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#i got a lot of songs i don't actually listen to all that much (the playlist is currently 15 hours) but i still like them
starzzmissthesun · 3 days
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i think you should totally drop whatever hc/ideas you have lying around honestly...i would love to see more into ur brain...pls <33
:DD
Hi!!!! Sorry this is a little late, I got so distracted with an animatic im working on(😈) and then a stupid essay😭😭 being honest rn... Almost all of what I've been thinking about is my fic.. 😔
But!! I can still go a little into that without spoilers. I've finally figured out The Perfect ending for this story that I feel fits with the overarching themes I wanted to tell. I've been making sure that every little detail fits with the themes I wanted to show, I wanted it to overlap Regulus and barty's characters and their overarching themes with PD. I also didn't want to just replicate PD cause I feel like that doesnt have the depth or commentary I want to out into it. Idk ive always thought it's super fun to put everything as some sort of symbol or metaphor or foreshadowing. I'm like literally so close to being done drafting and then I can actually talk about it a little more😭
Anyways! I've also been thinking about barty post regs death 😔(when am I not) But more specifically how every memory he had would almost be tainted, everything now would have an air of questioning and unsureness. Even memories where Regulus isn't there, just wondering where was he? What was he thinking? Am I remembering this right? What could've I changed? What was the domino that caused all of this to happen? Eventually finding it hard to accept the way it really was, having the "I guess it was" and feeling it, but overintellectualizing it. His logic and reasoning is his downfall in this situation, that's what makes him go crazy. (Side note I NEED to make a little post about his intersection between intelligence and madness) Hes doing a complicated version of when there's a task that seems so simple that you think it's a trick, but it's not, it's just that. What happened with Regulus was just that.
Also, I've recently self reflected and realized that a lot of my barty characterization is similar to how I think of Leonard Cohen's art(who I LOVE LOVE LOVE) Idk if you've listened to him or read any of his work, but I HIGHLY suggest it, it's perfect for fall. Anyways, a lot of his songs and poems carry themes of having a twisted self image, not completely self deprication though it may seem, but something else. It's closer to understanding and knowing that you are. Different. And unconventional. It's an uncomfortablility he has with himself. Being soemthig twisted from what you should've been. A lot of his stuff is also to do with tragically losing someone, out of their own choice, and still feeling very loyal yet bitter. Also of loving something so much that it turns dark, or it goes too quick, it spirals. Also his love songs are very barty's perspective on bartylus to me. And like, obvious war mentions. I could give some specific recs similar to barty or them if you'd like.
Another thing is of Regulus and his relationship with his dad. Though I see it completely reasonable if his dad was just kind of, not there and neglectful, it could give very interesting implications to his character, I like it the other way around. Orion seeing what a more carefree attempt at raising a child does and keeping Regulus even closer than he did before. I think Orion always liked Regulus more, despite him being the second, because he was a model son. I don't think he wanted this life or even to have kids, so Regulus being so complacent and in line with what he was supposed to be as a pure blood made him the decided favourite(as much as he could have one). He was always keeping a close eye on Regulus and he could feel it, but he didn't do anything out of place anyways. Orion could tell when he was even thinking something he wasn't supposed to. I believe that, no matter how much she tried, walpurga was too caught in her own head about her duty as a mother to see S+R as anything other than Her Kids, as property that she was supposed to care for and tend to, she obviously loved them, but couldn't see through them. But Orion was there around every corner looking through regulus' eyes into his soul to search for any thing out of his perfect kid.
Anyways.... That's all I can think of rn😭 but if you have questions about ANY of them lmk!!! I love yapping about my little thoughts 😁😁
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londondungeon2 · 2 days
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Im going visceral /pos
What are your thoughts on Floyd? Any kind
But if that's too vague, maybe what kinds of dynamics do you like writing with Floyd? (ex. visceral/toxic yaoi, tall/short, tall/tall, "i can make him worse", "i can fix him", etc)
any kind of thoughts work, tho! ex. I think he'd be killer at jazz (I'm thinking jazz drums, because it's the most "feel" out of all of them, and is the most "rhythm" out of all of them, too)
No need to respond if you don't feel like it, as always!! Have a great day, either way!!!
hi hi icarus!! was so excited to see you in my inbox!! hello!!
any time i want to think floyd thoughts 💭 i just listen to ‘the pillows’; a lot of their songs put me into the headspace i envision when writing floyd!
i’m going to ramble under the cut because i got carried away (it’s even got a table of contents)!!
because of the cake event, i’ve got a couple of requests for floyd … more so than jade which is fine, i’m fine (ʘдʘ╬) …. & i’ve been thinking of a concept of floyd as living armor! i won’t be able to write it because the two medieval AU requests are fluff and the concept is anything but fluffy (well, it is sweet and cute to me but my vision is warped)!
just a preface: whenever i solidify an AU in mind, i always divide into what are both jade and floyd doing. i like narrative foils.
— it’d be fun to get around to what jade is getting up to via mafia AU one day ….
medieval concept:
floyd and jade are both knights in this AU. floyd’s path is actually much sweeter than jade’s, despite how horrific it is.
as young knights, appointed to the front lines, floyd and jade were an invincible force. they slip through the grim reaper’s claws like water, finding themselves persevering no matter what. the grim reaper only catches up to one of them when he stumbles upon a suit of armor left in the ruin of a kingdom they just bested.
floyd is entranced. the material is studier than his own; it is exactly his shape and build; and the visor, shining the brightest silver, is shaped like a set of fangs enclosed. it is the finest piece of blacksmithing and forge work he has ever laid his eyes on — and jade, wiping red rain off his face and content with his kills, does not fight floyd when he declares he will take it for himself.
it is a descent into madness plot.
the more floyd wears the armor, the less he wants to take it off. he is starting to see twisted shadows out the castle’s windows. it only gets to the point of no return when he tries to remove one of the gauntlet and his skin peels off with the removal.
after that, floyd swears to never put it back on, resolute in his decision, as his brother smashes their room apart in a terrible rage over his arranged engagement to the king’s daughter.
however, he does put it back on. it keeps shining in kaleidoscope stars and beckoning him with honeyed whispers.
when he puts back on the helmet, it is last time he sees the sun with his own eyes.
the kingdom goes to ruin. jade has killed the royal family. there is nothing left for floyd, because try as he might, the suit of armor will not come off. he tries to push his own sword through the helmet and shoulder-plate, only to hit his neck and realize it is metal rather than flesh.
floyd rots at the bottom of the castle. alone for a decade. until one day, a scavenger from a neighboring building comes and raids whatever is left from the castle’s innards.
one last time, floyd decides he will serve his dead king one last time and kill this scavenger, hungry and desperate you. it is a wild chase around the hallways, him at 6’2”, face full of carnivore teeth, swinging a claymore that is intent on cutting you clean in half. he has you cowering in a corner, about to add another body to the ghosts that float in his ruined kingdom, his ruined home, only to stop when a loud yip ripples your tattered coat.
you have a puppy. a puppy you were trying to feed with the leftovers.
it is not bigger than a kitten and yet it barks at floyd like it is the size of the bear.
floyd’s sword slowly drops.
it is an unsteady friendship from then on. he still dislikes you roaming around in the castle; you are still afraid of this man in the armor. but, eventually, you do come to a truce.
floyd finds himself becoming more endeared to your company. you bring a light back into the court that has been extinguished by his own brother.
and for the first time in a decade, floyd gets to feel the sun on his armor (his skin will never be the same) as you slowly take his clawed, metal hand and bring him out the catacomb of his home.
“can i finally see your face?” you will ask him one day.
and silent, he will shake his head. no.
that’s okay. the company of each other is enough for the both of you.
tall/tall dynamic:
i really really enjoy the dynamic of tall/tall for floyd!!
like absolutely adore it with my whole heart!!! 🖤they’re slowly morphing into the height and relationship dynamic of okuyusau and josuke for me!!!
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picture for reference, mc and floyd are almost always the same height in my head.
i always have chess piece ocs in mind when writing /readers. its subtle but in narc, mc is the same size for shirts as floyd and is around the same height too. there is no part of standing on their tippy-toes for kisses & the eye contact is on equal footing.
i’m workshopping the scene where mc and azul meet in arnolfini portrait again & have to slap myself on the wrist every time i write ‘you glared down at azul’ or any variation of azul moving his neck to look up at mc.
idkw i feel so strongly about tall/tall dynamic with floyd. but i ADORE floyd with a tall shrimpy!!!
drummer! floyd:
from what i’ve seen from reading canon information on floyd, he did in fact play drums in a jazz band w/ azul and jade during middle school!! which i took to incorporating in ‘got you (where i want you)’ bc it’s largely a oneshot revolving around pop music club:
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i want to explore a bit of the difference between how kalim plays drums and how floyd plays drum in it. it is going to be a big piece, about three chapters!
i only play piano and drums so we’ll see how i can handle talking about guitars (but like every single guy involved in my life plays guitar — brothers, bf, friends, co workers — so i got people to ask about it)
also was going to have floyd keep knives in his drum sticks during narc but scrapped it.
cake event:
the lineup for floyd that will come out nov 5 is:
royalty AU — jester x princess smut
NRC — viscera part 2 smut, 69 position
Arranged Marriage AU — hurt/comfort (FINALLY some angst from my request list б(>ε< )∂!!!)
royalty AU — mutual pining (no plot outlined yet but i’ll figure out a dynamic)
time loop AU — requester was very specific so the outline is already there!
arnolfini portrait:
HERE, is a snippet from that long Floyd work I’m going to release next year, some fluff (i think idk fluff) in a pool of angst;
Jade looks down at the both of you, a moue on his face. “I told you to watch him; not join him.”
Bleary, tear-soaked eyes blink seven times before you finally can fix all the puzzle pieces of Jade’s visage clearly in your vision. Above you, he stands, tutting in disappointment with a single teacup in hand. Steam curls out of the ceramic, reminding you of the absolute flaming heat on your cheeks. In response to his serene anger, you mumble, “Hmmm what?” into the pillowcase.
“Really, what am I going to do with the two of you?” Jade sets the teacup on Floyd’s desk.
“Leave us alone,” Floyd grumbles, nasally and exhausted. He takes to rub his forehead in your neck, impossibly hot as well.
See, Jade told you to watch over his brother for the afternoon. It is the weekend; you had no classes so you sought Floyd’s company. Said company happens to be suffering from a high fever he developed Friday night. Fretful, Jade told you he would return during his break at Mostro Lounge with tea for Floyd. Which must be now; not that you are keeping track of time. With little convincing, you fell in bed with Floyd due to his clogged and snotty siren call, snuggling up into the tempting warmth and accepting his infectious kisses.
Now contaminated, you wake up from your nap to face off the enemy of Jade’s frowning discontentment. Your attack move is to shimmy yourself down until the comforter is up to your chin. Floyd’s arms wrap around you tighter, thinking you are trying to leave. You cast the verbal spell of, “Yeah, what he said.” and close your eyes to get more sleep.
A subtle, amused laugh is Jade’s counterspell. “I hope you two will accept the responsibility of holding each other’s hair back when this virus wants to make its exit.”
Cheek to cheek, Floyd mumbles back, “Of course, I’d do anythin’ for (Name).”
The atmosphere in the room suddenly shifts. The fluidity of your limbs that were melting into the cuddle hardens into stone. Even Jade seems to stand a bit straighter despite his already perfect posture. Slowly, you pull your upper body out of the hug, bleary eyes wide as saucers.
“Did you just –?”
It is hard to tell: is the blush on Floyd’s face from his ridiculously high fever or is it because of his embarrassment? He looks at you like you are the one who has grown two heads. He has no reason to be looking so shocked when you are one who has whiplash!
“I – um –”
“Oh my God, you just did!” The fact of the matter – Floyd using your real name – has put your world on such an axis that you worry Floyd is going to have to hold your hair back like Jade suggested; you are about ready to throw up from nerves. Nerves exit your mouth through laughter instead. “Oh my God! Hahaha! You – hahaha!”
“Shrimpyyy,” Floyd whines before erupting into a coughing fit.
“It’s cute! I promise, it’s super cute! Hahaha!”
Floyd, who hates being called cute, fixes you with a glare that is lackluster due to the sweat glistening on his forehead and the chagrin that has sunburnt itself on his skin. He pulls his hand off your stomach and pinches your nose. You let out a honking laugh that is more geese than human.
anyways,,, always holding floyd like this. i do enjoy his character (but never more than his brother)!!!!
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blue-hi · 6 months
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shuffled playlist tag game
sometimes friends tag me in these and i definitely mean to do them but i always forget. @leliesblou tagged me in one and i promise i'm not gonna forget this time!
Rules: you can tell a lot about a person by the music they listen to. Put a playlist on shuffle, list the first 10 songs and then tag people :)
i have a bunch of playlists, so i'm choosing my "bops only" one:
Safe & Sound - from The Hunger Games Soundtrack (Taylor Swift, The Civil Wars)
World's Smallest Violin (AJR)
The Devil Went Down to Georgia (The Charlie Daniels Band)
Father Finlee (Spence Hood, Justin Ray Stringer)
Rule #27 - Drunk on Pride (Fish in a Birdcage, Philip Bowen)
Will I Find My Home - Acoustic Version (Juniper Vale, Vian Izak)
Bang! (AJR)
Fire Fire (Steam Powered Giraffe)
Red Signal (The Mechanisms)
Ruin (The Amazing Devil)
there we go! i'll tag: @seismologically-silly, @gays4vulo, @vilesssserpent, @sol1loqu1st, @honeybeeofficial, @mlerf, @terriblelizbians, @astriiformes, and anyone else who wants to do it!
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dummerjan · 7 months
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i just came across ai covers on youtube and people are requesting songs in the comments instead of getting enraged and i am further losing hope in humanity and turning to misanthropy
#meins#for a minute i got really excited about henning may singing take me to church :(#i hate people#have you no appreciation for or understanding of art? clearly not.#why would you want to listen to an ai generated song? even if it sounds like your favourite singer it's not them#it has no feelings to meaning to intention. it is empty and soulless#reading the booklet for sinéad o'connor's album of traditional irish and folk songs gave me so much appreciation for her#she wrote a little bit about each song. why she chose it or what it means to her.#it has added so much to my enjoyment of those songs and i think of it whenver i listen to it#they were chosen with intention with love with a deep appreciation for the music and lyrics and there is a story behind it all#it is art and love and human#i see aboslutely no appeal in ai generated 'music' or 'art'#and i hate that i fell for it for a minute#i was sceptical because i had never heard of henning may covering hozier and since it wasn't just 20-60 sec i am certain#i would have heard about it by now#and something was just a little bit... unsatisfying? something was missing which does apply to a lot of cover songs#(i could go on hour long rants about why people fuck up danny boy (and sinéad o'connor does it best (because she actually takes her time)#or trash madonna's version of don't cry for me argentina (again a song ruined for by everybody else but sinéad - once she has sung somethin#i have a hard time enjoying it by anybody else. the parting glass is an exception. hozier's version is phenomenal))#but! henning may not giving it his all for a cover? unlikely. very unlikely.#anyway this concludes my tuesday night rant. rather here in the tags than some poor person's inbox.#or i would have kept fuming by myself for another hour or two
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icharchivist · 1 year
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hey remember when i left those tags on that post?
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i still don’t want to talk about what the work of fiction is but i legit just got reminded today that while it’s been like over 15 years that i did want to check this thing, the character that “caught my interest like 7 years ago” actually caught my interest 12 years ago. As in, there was a specific moment in time when i wanted to get into it because i learnt about the character in question.
i’ve been in hysterics for the past ten minutes because i’m realizing it’s been over a decade that once in a while i had humored starting this thing, and that while it definitely started out of another place, it’s been 12 years that steadily it was because this character was standing out to me enough that i wanted to get into it, but then forgot all about it, and now i’m out there actually getting into it after a *dream that came out of nowhere about this chara popping up while i haven’t thought of them in years* and i’m just. 
bestfriendo is making fun of me because “this is the most slowburn in all of history of fav characters” and i’m screaming into my hands, imagine considering getting into something for OVER A DECADE while constantly one character keeps standing out for you and eventually you just get a dream out of nowhere of this chara like a sudden “hey. I’ve been sending you messages about it for the past decade why the fuck are you leaving me on read” and now you’re not only forced to pay attention but also forced to realize YOU COULD HAVE STARTED ALL OF THAT OVER TEN YEARS AGO i’m feeling so unwell.
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storfulsten · 11 months
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hey uh sorry for disappearing yet again for a couple months. don't have much of an excuse, though things have been more stressful than usual, offline life having involved family and hospitals and stuff, but not gonna go into any details, things are better now either way so ye. my way of coping with things have been mostly to just play games (ffxiv mainly, leveling alts and other grinding can be a good distraction sometimes) and nothing else to keep my mind off things, so haven't been able to focus enough to do much of any art at all. I am hoping to get back into the swing of things, I am back on my meds that I skipped out on for like a year due to various reasons, but they seem to be helping again so yeah, fingers crossed that things will work out and such ha
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*screenshots the highlights of my youtube to mp3 downloads folder as if it were some fancy aesthetic spotify wrapped image or whatever* 
#I don't know how spotify works I'm not sure how the images people share are actually generated  but you know what I mean lol#Though I do wish the native windows music player thing kept track of like.. how many times you listened to a song or something#merely because I think it would be really funny for me since I'm very much a like 'listen to the same 3 songs on rotation for literally#4 months at a time. then eventually rotate in another few songs to replace those. never revisit any of them again' type person#And like most media I have a lot of trouble connecting with music or ascribing it the same deep meaning that most other people seem to get o#ut of it like. I think maybe it has something to do with my emotional range in general being very shallow (I am neutral 90% of the#time and even when I'm not I just don't feel things very strongly. when I do feel antyhing it's weak fleeting emotions usuually that#I don't even remember a few days from then. You know how babies don't have object permanence? It's like I don't have emotional permanence lo#l. Which is probably standard for like. severe childhood neglect situations where nobody was around for you to mirror their#emotions in early childhood or whatever usually happens when people are being raised. Like if nobody was there to encourage the development#of emotions and show what those look like then maybe your brain just doesn't develop them properly or etc. etc. ANYWAY gjhjhb)#I think maybe that has somehting to do with why it's just really hard for me to care about media of all kinds - and even when I do it's not#very deep. Also probably why I've never really been in a fandom or gone to a concert or been really into anything like that. Because people#form deep emotional connections and memories and attachments to their favorite media and I just like... don't#I can still like things!! But it's always in a more like.. intellectual kind of cognitive way if that makes sense? Like if I liked a TV show#it would never be becaise I find the message heartwarming or the characters relatable or because it made me FEEL something. It would be bec#ause the lore is cool and I like to analyze it. Or I think there's an interesting social dynamic going on which is fun to kind of pick#at the innerworkings of. And if I like a song like.. it's not because This Music Got Me Through A Hard time In My Life or because#I relate deeply to the lyrics or it makes me feel a certain way - it's usually because the overlapping of instruments or thetones that are#used interests me or there's something intruguing or cool about it to hear. Part of why I like classical or choir music is that there's oft#en so many instruments playing over each other it's like a little puzzle to try and hear each part seperately or etc. etc.#Which isn't to say that I can NEVER relate to or feel some sort of attachement or idea related to a piece of media. but just that it's not#ever very strong. like not powerful enough to be some significant motivator or pivotal aspect of my personality or etc.#BUT ANYWAY. I still can like things to a degree probably not just the same exact way as others lol.#So I rarely even listen to music that often (maybe once a week or so? I'll listen to like one song or two. but I'm not like a 'have music on#in the background playing in the house all the time' or 'listen to music while I get ready' type) but when I do it's very repetitive. I do#think it would be interesting to see the statistics then lol. I thought windows media player used to track statistics so I wonder why the#'updated' version of that on windows 10 doesnt??? Maybe bc they assume everyone is using streaming services instead? stinky#I don;t think the built in music player on my phone tracks anything either. It's more of just a file accessor or something. hmmgbb#That alone will never convince me to actually use some service to get music though lol. I don't need the statistics. yttmp3 for life babey
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jupipedia · 1 year
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neither here nor there ! — h. brown. ↳ " face down, ass up, that's the way i like getting fucked ! " ↳ content warning : nsfw ( minors do not interact. ), unprotected s*x, marking, pet names ( lovie, sweetheart, etc. ), overst*mulation, multiple org*sms, forced org*sms ( ? ), cre*mpie, slight or*l ( fem. receiving. ), c*m eating, not proof read lol, etc. ↳ dedicated to: @starsoir !
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you'd love to pretend that you don't know how you got where you were, but you knew exactly how you ended up in this position; face down with your ass in the air as hobie brown fucked you mindlessly.
you were dressed in one of the most revealing dresses ever made and had one goal in mind : fuck hobie brown.
you were more than the average groupie, having actually listened and enjoyed his band before you even thought of fucking him. your desire was sparked when you attended one of his gigs on a whim, wanting to listen to good music as you got a drink at your local bar. at one point, you made your way to the front of the crowd, careful not to spill your drink on anyone as you slipped through the dense ocean of bodies. once you reached the front, hobie brown stood in all his anarchist glory, shredding away on his electric guitar and quickly sparking your interest.
since then, you've made it a mission to be the hottest girl to ever touch the same sheets as the man. you kept up to date on his pop up shows, his appearances, and the new music his band would release every now and then.
tonight, you finally captured his attention when you stood at the front of the crowd, all dolled up and singing the lyrics to his songs. your dress left little to the imagination and piqued his interest once the two of you made eye contact as you continued to lip sync along to the word, smiling sultrily as you gazed up at him.
his set was barely finished as he removed his guitar from torso, jumped into the crowd, and made his way to the door with your wrist latched in his hold, loose enough for you to pull away if you weren't interested. he could barely keep his hands off of you as he pulled you into the back of the car, his driver raising the partition once his hands began to lower to the swell of your ass. his fingers wandered close to your heat, only to stop at your panty line, affectively teasing you as the two of engaged in a fighting kiss. his kiss was hard, having no care for the lack of air in his lung as he continued to pull you closer to him. your tongue pushed against his, marveling at the cold metal ball in the center of his appendage.
the car was not parked when hobie pulled you out of it, fixing your tousled hair before pulling you through the lobby of the hotel and into the elevator. the doors hadn't closed and his lips were already back on you, hot kisses being pressed into the crook of your neck.
his eagerness took you aback, surprised that such a simple act of knowing his lyrics was enough to rile him up so much. you knew the skimpy outfit had to play a grander part in things as he tugged on it slightly, almost as if he was holding himself back from ripping off of you right in the elevator.
"leng ting you are," he mumbled against your skin, kitten licking over the small bruises he created from him nipping at your skin.
"i try," your words are barely heard as you suddenly become breathless. this is the first time you'd really spoken, other than him ensuring that you wanted to spend the night with him. you'd been to preoccupied with each other's lips that you hadn't much time to ask any questions, let alone exchange compliments.
"you do a lot more than try, lovie. didn't know i had fans as beautiful as you. or as devout. 's cute watching my lyrics fall from your pretty lips," he replied, returning to task of marking every inch of your skin, hands grasping your ass in a bruising hold as he pulled you closer to him.
"what can i say, they're good lyrics," you mutter, words coming out breathless as he sucked on the spot just below your ear.
the elevator doors opened and he wasted no time pulling you in the direction of his room, wanting nothing but to have his way with you. he reached his room, opening the door and pulling you in. you'd barely finished removing your heels when he propped you up against the door, fingers making quick work of your dress and thong.
which led you to your current position, face pushed deep into the blankets as your ass was propped up in the air as hobie fucked your into cunt. his strokes were deep and forceful as you jerked forward each time he entered you. his veined cock scraped the walls of your tight pussy, evoking whines and moans from you and, surprisingly, hobie.
you imagined that he'd be a grunter or groaner but you were even happier to find out that he was a whiner. they weren't high pitched by any means but the whiny lilt in his remark heightened your already overspilling arousal. in your previous position, his mouth had been next to your ear, allowing you to hear the praise loud and clear. while this current position put a bit of distance between the two of you, you were still able to make out his whines when they weren't drowned out by your own noises.
"f-feel so good around my cock. so fucking good," he grunts out, angling his body differently, causing the head of his cock to bump against your cervix. you blindly reached back and pushed futilely at his pelvis, running from his deep strokes. "don't tell me it's too much for you, sweetheart."
"so deep! too deep," you mewled, still pushing him away without result. the pleasure was beyond overwhelming. your mind clouded as you continued to take the pleasure, too lost in it to speak or breathe properly. his cologne and natural musk lingered through the air, suffocating you in his presence.
your legs soon begin to mimic the twitch of your cunt as your orgasm began to build. your eyes welled with tears at the euphoric pressure filling your stomach.
"go on and cum for me, yeah?" hobie draped himself over your frame, whispering softly in your ear. the return of his aroused whines so close to your ear did nothing but push you closer to the edge, leaving you teetering on the edge of a release.
hobie's hand slid down your abdomen, using his fore and middle finger to draw circles on your clit and effectively bringing you to an earth shattering release. you cry out his name, tone doused in pleasure as you threw your head back to rest upon his shoulder. he continued to pump into you, prolonging your high. almost as if your orgasm was a catalyst, hobie's hips jerked and he stilled, pouring his cum into you warm pussy.
as your orgasm subsided, hobie wrapped an arm around your waist and pulled you up to rest against his chest before restarting his ministrations. you were overstimulated as you tried to escape his grasp, hoping for a quick break before continuing.
"you thought we were finished? nah, i could go all night with you," he said, holding you firm against his torso as he buried himself snug into your core. you dug your nails into his forearm, attempting to ground yourself as you melted due to the immense pleasure.
this position only allowed hobie to move minimally, but he sat snug against your cervix, each thrust pushing against it in a pleasurable way. he drew shallow gasps from you as you tried to steady your breathing. one of his hands groped at your breast, rolling your nipple between his fingers causing you to tighten around him. he chuckled into your neck as he fucked his seed back into you, relishing in the hot feeling of your vice.
"gonna give me another one, yeah. hmm, pretty girl?" he teased, pinching your nipple and quicken the pace of his finger on your clit. he smirked at the release of your pitchy moans before going back to kiss on your neck.
"'m gonna cum. please! gonna cum!" you wailed, withering in his hold as you began to release. you felt his nod and your entire body shook from the intensity of your orgasm. hobie whispered sweet nothings in your ear before he allowed himself to drown in his own pleasure.
"fuck, you feel so good. hmm. fuck, had my eyes on you since you stepped to the front of the crowd. leng ting singing all m'lyrics. nearly came in my jeans," he admitted in between whines. his grip tightened on you as his moans reached a crescendo and his seed spilled into you.
his hold on you loosened but didn't drop completely as he came down from his high. his breath tickled your ear as he tried to calm himself, savoring the warmth of your walls. he released you and you fell onto your chest, ass still propped in the air as he shifted to the foot of the bed.
"hobie, please," you begged, wanting nothing but rest as he inserted his head between your thighs and lapped at your core, determined to eat your mixed essence from your used cunt.
"jus' cleaning you, pretty," he mumbled, mouth full and tongue busy. your hands made their way to his wicks as his tongue dove into your pussy. the wet muscle scooped his cum out of your entrance, rubbing perfectly against your walls. you felt a foreign pressure rise and you tugged lightly at the man's head, wanting to remove him from your core before you came.
"hobie, s'too much," you whined with no avail as he sucked on your clit, changing his mission from eating your cum to making you release once again.
this release was a bit different as short streams of liquid shot from your pussy and into his welcoming mouth. he hummed as he slurped into your cunt, ignoring your attempts at pushing his head away until he decided he was finished.
he left his position and crawled up toward the pillows, pulling you into his chest as he laid back.
"we can talk in morning, yeah? wanna get to know you a bit," he muttered, exhaustion prevalent in his tone as his spoke with eyes closed. you couldn't reply as you slipped into a sleeping state.
mission accomplished.
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taintedcigs · 8 months
Text
i slept with someone from corroded coffin and all i got was this stupid song written about me.
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ROCKSTAR!FBOY!EDDIE X READER
summary: fooling around with a famous rockstar who's a notorious playboy sounds perfect on paper, until you catch feelings for him. that's why you decide to end things, to not get your feelings get hurt, and its all going perfectly, until eddie releases a song, written all about you.
warnings: smut, p in v, MINORS DNI!!!!, pet names, praising?, lovey dovey, kinda angst and arguments, drgs & alcohol mention, swearing? idk this is kinda cheesy n cute with a mix of fluff sprinkled honestly!
author's note: the indented parts are texts between steve and reader and thenn reader and eddie. they look confusing as fuck im sorry i just wanted to make them look unique but they look stupid. also yes. i patted myself in the back after i found this title (thank you fob). and yes the lyrics are inspired by i don't care im on a fob kick sue me! and ofc fboy!eddie isn't actually that much of a fboy bc if i can't write lovesick eddie ill die. this is super cheesy so i still struggled a lot but UGH. not proof-read ignore all mistakes
also credits to @dumplingsjinson for the prompts! (i changed them but still!) and @saradika for the dividers! pls like + rb + interact w me in anyway to support my writings!! ty!!
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DINGUS sent you a spotify link. did you listen to this? yeah. its kinda romantic. no. the lyrics are insane. n all about u okay? are u at the party rn? yeah. u comin? soon he’s there too u already knew that, didn’t u?  false accusations r rude, steve.
You click your phone off with a groan, but he was right. You couldn’t stay away from him, and maybe, just maybe, this was your way of running into him, accidentally. 
Because ever since he released the song, the tabloids had gone crazy with it, half of the lyrics screamed you and all of the old headlines pointed at you, the mystery girl Eddie used to be seen with, and you really were growing tired of seeing your name next to “Munson’s new girl.” 
Because you weren’t his new girl, you weren’t his anything. He was a cocky asshole who was good with a guitar and was even better at fucking. And that was something both of you could relate to, the only thing you had in common with him. Or, so you thought. 
But of course, as with everything else, the things between you changed, you started staying over, he started staying over, and the two of you even went on fucking dates, disguising them under ‘we were just hungry, is all.’ 
You tried to keep up the cool girl act, like you could fuck someone and not catch feelings. Every inch of you itched not to care, to act like it was all fine, but it was all fucking bullshit, you cared, so fucking much that your chest ached. The more you got to know him, the more you fell for him, and the more you fell for him, the more you realized there was no fucking way this would work. 
Cocky rockstar who spent more time doing drugs than sleeping, with girls all over him? The imaginary red flag bells rang in your ear, even now. He wasn’t looking for a relationship and you knew that. That’s why you ended it two months ago. Or at least, you started ignoring him two months ago. 
Yet, he had been calling and texting you, wanting to meet up, drunken slurs of nonsense, gibberish voicemails, and yet you never answered, because if you did, you knew you’d be back to pathetically swooning over him.
Until today, just because of that stupid song, like it meant anything. That douchebag probably wrote songs about every girl he fucked. 
You weren’t special. 
Another ding sound from your phone almost startled you, the contact name made you groan even louder. “don’t FUCKING answer.” That didn’t mean shit. It was just something stupid to make you feel better that you couldn’t stay away from him, because you knew, deep down that if you really didn’t want him to contact you, you would’ve deleted his number, and blocked him. You were too chicken shit to do that, and still desperately wanted to hear from him. 
So you settled on that contact name. Like it made a difference, like it changed anything. 
DONT FUCKING ANSWER did you listen to the song?
Don’t fucking answer. The contact name should be enough to convince yourself that.
Too late.
                                                                   no. don’t lie to me, sweetheart.                                                                            why would i lie?
You sink into the couch, a much quieter corner of the party, not even bothering to socialize. Your brows furrow, index finger flying to your lips anxiously, as you chew on it to patiently wait for an answer.
You sip on your drink with a nervous gaze on your screen, barely noticing the way the couch sink further when someone else took a seat next to you. 
“Hi.” The gravelly voice pulls your attention away from the screen, making you set your drink aside as you look up, finding yourself face-to-face with him. 
Shaggy bangs cascade onto his forehead, and with your exaggeration, it looks longer than the last time you saw him. Black jeans cladded with chains. A graphic tee messily thrown over his heavily tatted chest, that you could still imagine right about now—pathetic. He looked just about the same, the deep dimple adorning his soft cheeks had seemed to disappear, wearing a scowl instead, that tiny voice in your head told you that was your doing, that maybe he was just as miserable as you. Maybe your feelings weren’t fully one-sided.  
Shit. 
“Eddie?” Squeaky, and annoying, you were sure that’s how your tone sounded, yet he didn’t seem to comment on it.
“‘m glad you remember my name, sweetheart,” he scoffs sarcastically, leaning further into the plush couch, elbow propped at the side, eyeing you with frustration. 
“W—what the hell are you doing here?” You stutter as if you weren’t expecting to run into him. Full of bullshit. 
“Did ya really think you could ignore me forever, huh?” He tilts his head slightly, almost expectedly, earning an eye roll from you. 
“I wasn’t ignoring yo—”
Eddie tuts quickly, his gaze locking onto yours with an intensity that cuts through the ambient noise of the party, “I thought we said no more lies, huh?” 
With a huff, “Why are you here, Eddie?” you mumble.
“Am I not allowed to party?” He banters, brows slightly raised, making you huff out an exasperated breath, your eyes bore into him, almost to signal him ‘Take this seriously.’
“I wanted to know what you thought.” He shrugs like it was normal to just come running after everything just to know what you thought of the song. 
“The song?” He nods in confirmation.
“Didn’t like it,” you confess, avoiding his gaze, but your brows betray you, lifting ever so slightly.
He tsks, shutting you off quickly, “You see that little quirk your brow did? That only happens when you lie, you can’t help it. You do that when I ask you if you ate the last pizza slice, or when I ask if you watched the next episode of the show we were supposed to watch together, or when you—” 
“Fine, fine! I liked it,” you groan, interrupting him and suddenly standing up from the comfort of the couch, being so face-to-face with him immediately making your nerves bubble.
“Just liked?” He tilts his head slightly, a smirk curving on his lips. 
A deep sigh of breath, “what do you want, Munson?”
He stands up with you, making you back away from him with a heavy footstep, the entire party was too loud and crowded, yet, in this stupid corner, it was just the two of you. “For you to admit that you loooved the song, and how much you missed me,” he sing-songs, taking a step closer to you, musky smell invading your senses, making you take a deep breath.
Both of you stand near the wall, and it should be awkward, it should be enough to make you leave, but all it does is draw you closer to him.
“You’re annoying.” 
“Is that why you’ve been avoiding me?”
“I wasn’t avoiding—” He tuts, with his stupid index finger up, rejecting your lie.
“I—I don’t know what you expected.” You shrug, so nonchalantly that his gaze narrows, chest aching with the implications of your words.
“We both knew this wouldn’t last forever, didn’t we?” You chew the inside of your lip to stop those tears that had been begging to flow ever since you listened to the song, wiping off that smirk on Eddie’s lips. 
“Would’ve been nice if I got a reminder, and not have been just fully ghosted, huh?” The brunette grumbles with a downturn of his lips, shaking his head in disbelief. 
“Oh, don’t act all high and mighty, isn’t that what you do all the fucking time?” you snap, gaze narrowed, and arms crossed against your chest. 
“Fuck girls and then leave them? Did it crush your ego this fucking much that I did before you could?” 
“What the fuck does that mean?” He retaliates. 
“It means I was smart enough to pull myself away from your bullshit,” you rasp, disdain written all over your face.The room seems to shrink as the distance between you decreases. 
Another step closer to you, and you didn’t realize your back had hit the wall now. “My bullshit? God, that’s fucking rich, if I seem to recall correctly sweetheart, you were in this as much as I fucking was!”
“Oh, was I?” You bark out a chuckle, cruel, mocking, “I don’t remember being okay with you fucking half the city.” Realization of how bitter and jealous that sounds, dawns on you much later than the words leave your lips, and thankfully, Eddie’s too fucking immersed to realize the double meaning of your words. 
“Are you fucking kidding? No strings attached! Non-exclusive! That’s what you fuckin’ signed up for!” His voice echoes, mirroring his frustration, and you open your mouth.
But he doesn’t let you speak further, cutting you off sharply. “Is this all because of that new guy you’re seein’?” 
“What? What guy?” 
“The one who was all over you earlier,” he bites out, jaw clenched, and you can almost taste his bitterness in the air.  
“The same one you fucked at Jeff’s party.”
“Are you stalking me, Munson?” 
“Did you just want an excuse to end things? Are the two of you serious or somethin’?” His voice wavered between anger and desperation, gaze pathetically searching for yours, to gauge your reaction.
You scoff. Did he really think you’d end things because of a stupid fling you had which in the first place occurred just so you could forget him? He was so goddamn clueless it drove you insane. 
But what you didn’t realize was that you were just as clueless, if not more, because why would he write a song all about you, if this was just about sex? Because who would get so jealous of someone they didn’t care about? 
Say my name and his in the same breath.
I dare you to say they taste the same. 
The lyrics from his stupid song swirled your thoughts, yet you were still too stupid to see it, weren’t you?
Another step closer to you, a dangerous game the two of you liked to play. He smelled alluring, a fucked up mix of nicotine, his musky cologne, and that damn leather jacket. “Do you really think, he could compare to me, sweetheart?” 
Say my name and his in the same breath.
“Tell me he’s fucking better, and he’s actually what you want, and I’ll fucking leave, I’ll bury all the other songs I wrote, tell me, and I’ll be out of your hair forever.”
I dare you to say they taste the same. 
And just like that, all the defenses you put up, all the times you ignored him, they are cracked, disappearing into thin air. You hate it, you hate that he has this effect on you, you can feel your mind getting hazier, eyes blinking rapidly to process what the fuck is going on, and his face is mere inches away from yours. You knew their names didn’t taste the same. And you knew he could never ever compare to Eddie.
“Tell me,” he encourages, dares you to. You fail to notice how much emotion his gaze carries, how the corners of his lips twitch, just at the thought of you finally admitting you don’t want him. His stomach turns at the thought, this is his last chance, he knows that, and he can’t fucking lose you. He can’t. 
And you don’t know any of that, but you knew, know that no one else could compare to him. And you hate yourself for thinking that, you hate yourself for falling for him, the world stops rotating on its axis when he’s in your peripheral vision, and it’s fucking disgusting. Pathetic. Stupid. Because you know the two of you have no chance. But here you are. 
“H—he is b—” Of course, your brow quirks up almost immediately, betraying you quicker than you can even attempt to lie. 
That dawning smirk appears on his lips again, it’s mocking, and just as much smug. You want to wipe it off of his stupidly pretty face. “Tell me,” he dares you, again. This time much cockier and confident, and you suddenly realize how small you feel under him.
“He isn’t,” your meek voice is barely audible.
And you don’t register the shaky breath he draws when the words leave your lips, giving him the confirmation he needs. You wanted him, he had no fucking clue why you ghosted him, yet you still wanted him. Just as much as he wanted you. 
Both of his hands were placed on the wall now, towering over you, making your breath get caught up in your throat. “Speak up.”
“No, fuck! You know he’s not, you know he could never fucking compare to you, you fucking know tha—” He shuts you up with a rough kiss, lips pressed against yours messily, letting the petty comments die down your throat. Because this is all he wanted, needed to hear anyway. 
“Up,” he grunts into the kiss, tapping your thighs, hoisting you up from your waist to help you wrap your legs around him, tight, he wants you at his mercy, locked to him. 
You wrap your legs around him, barely, the melty sensation in your knees making you so shaky that he barks out a laugh into your lips, holding you close, firm, the butterflies in your stomach traveling all across your body.
He lifts you up as if you are weightless, arms wrapped around you strongly as he carries you to the nearest empty bedroom, impressively without hitting your back anywhere, so roughly that your core throbs at the feeling of his arms around you.
“Baby,” he mutters as he lowers you down on the bed swiftly, smooth, gaze darkened and pupils blown wide, all the pent up desire waiting to explode. 
“Eddie,” you beg, shaky voice sounding purely angelic to his ears once he got rid of his shirt, shrugging it off with a huff, his fingertips grazing against your top, feeling your hardened nipples, causing gasps out of you, he’s quick to pull it over your head while you run your fingers up the grooves of his stomach, the tip of your fingertips almost burns everywhere you touch. 
He groans at the sight of your bare breasts, “missed thi-you,” he corrects himself, because that’s all he wanted anyways, you. 
He nips at your nipples, tongue good at giving attention to both of them, all wet and warm, making you squirm under his touch, you’re quick to get rid of everything else, leaving you in your panties, making him grunt. 
The pad of his thumb rubs against your left nipple, leaving goosebumps in its wake, while his other hand travels down your chest, then your stomach, finally drawing circles when it stops between your thighs, ghosting over your panties before he tugs them down your legs, spreading them apart with a slight hum, pupils blown so wide that you can’t admire those chocolate hues anymore. 
He visually drinks in that sight of you, laid down on the couch, eyes squeezed shut, back arched, and he hasn’t even touched you yet. You’re completely at his mercy and his chest aches with need. “So pretty like this f’me,” he coos into your chest, pushing his middle finger inside of you. Making you feel so good that you can’t stop the gasps coming out of your lips.   
Pleasure shivers through everywhere he sucks and touches, his finger eases into you when he adds another one, a moan escaping you quickly. “Need to be in here, sweetheart, d’ya have any idea how much I missed this?” 
You don’t. You don’t know about the sleepless nights, the drunken ones, the drug-induced ones in an attempt to recreate the high you gave him. It’s fucked up, it’s insanely toxic. Yet, he can’t get enough of you. 
His gaze upon you is dangerous, maybe it’s because he had missed you so goddamn much, or maybe because he didn’t know where this would lead, but it felt fucking sentimental, different somehow, and he could feel you, everywhere on his skin.
Your hips start rocking up against him when the pad of his thumb flicks over your clit, making you arch your back, whines, mumbles leaving your lips. And all he can muster is, “so goddamn beautiful, look at you whining for me.”
You can feel his bulge rub against your thigh every now and then, it’s distracting, almost agonizing. You desperately need it inside of you, you had missed him, missed his touch, missed the feeling of him filling you to the brim, you missed seeing his face contort in pleasure when he was inside of you, you wanted him to never forget you again. 
That’s why you feel so numb, can barely speak, and of course, Eddie notices, how unusually quiet you are, and he wants to make this unforgettable, just so you have another reason to come back to him. Just so you don’t leave him, just so you stay forever. 
“Gone too quiet on me, honey, tell me what you need,” he coos down at you, thumb still caressing your pussy, and all you can fucking do is chew down on your bottom lips, eyeing his bulge that was begging to get out. And he barks out a goddamn chuckle, “P—please, Eddie.” Pathetically leaves your lips. 
And normally he would make you beg, tease further, but he reaches to tug down his pants quickly, because fuck, he had missed you. And he can’t bear the thought of not being inside of you any longer. 
Thinking is not your strongest suit right now either, your brain is mushy, all the nights and days spent thinking about him, about this explodes into your body. Your pussy aches when you finally see his cock again, a sound of need leaving your lips as you eye his length, so big that pleasure ripples through you, especially when you see his gushy tip, glistening with pre-cum. 
You want every fucking inch inside of you, and Eddie’s more than ready to oblige, “What do you need, baby? Tell me.”
“Need you, Eddie,” you moan, all fucked out, his fingers slip in and out of you still, but it isn’t enough for him. He needs more, he craves your validation like he never has before. 
“God, you’re soakin’ my fingers, princess,” he grunts, wedging himself between your thighs, weeping cock drips onto your inner thighs, making you moan breathlessly. “Tell me exactly what you fuckin’ want, honey.”
“Eddie.” His name sounds like silk, even when it’s so lewd, Eddie decides, and it makes him let out an impatient huff. “P—please. Need you to fuck me.” It’s so goddamn desperate that you can feel heat rise to your cheeks, but it’s everything to him.
“Want you to fuck me like you mean it.”
“Oh, that’s easy, sweetheart,” he grunts, lining his cock through your entrance, coating himself in your slick, enjoying your mewls before he doesn’t hesitate to push his cock inside of you, inch by inch, relishing the way you cry out for him. 
Greedily, you rock your hips into him, making him let out a frustrated groan. “Have no fuckin’ idea how much I missed this greedy cunt, sweetheart, shit.” He thrusts in a few more inches, and breathless moans and babbles of his name fill the air.
“Suckin’ me right in, baby, fuck, you’re so pretty like this, mhmm.” His cock moves inside of you, and your hands are wrapped around his back, desperately clawing at it, the fullness making you want more, “you like that, baby, like bein’ full of me?” A heavy sound leaves his lips, pathetic and you pulse around him. 
“S’so good Eddie, and s’big,” you barely manage to let out, and he watches you with that burning amber gaze, thrusting all the way in without hesitation. Those plushy lips that hang open, that filthy mouth, the prettiest fucking features—you, were going to be the death of him. 
Maybe it’s because you had missed him, or maybe because you hadn’t experienced this in a long time, or fuck, maybe, just maybe that the song had created a new type of need between the two of you. Using sex as a sort of connection that the both of you desperately needed. But, shit, was it this different this time. 
He felt different—his lips, touch, skin as it slapped against yours, it was different. 
Full. You feel so fucking full that your back involuntarily arches against him, fingers clenching desperately, your screams and cries filling the room the more he plunges inside of you, deeper, hungry, and just as greedy as you. 
“Yeah, better than that asshole?” It rolls off his lips so bitter and jealous that you can barely register it. Not being used to this possessive side of him, and it’s glorious, especially when he’s pounding his frustrations and insecurities into you. 
“Mhmm, so much better.” You clawed at his back, every thrust of his hip making you feel higher and higher, mind filled with nothing but him. 
“So pretty like this when you say my name, sweetheart… so goddamn beautiful, and all mine, yea?” He wants a confirmation, and wants to hear you say it, his head ducking between your breasts again to kiss, taste, suckle them. Make sure he never forgets it. 
“Wanna hear you say it.” He hums, the vibrations reverberating through your chest straight into your core, cock plowed so deep inside of you that you can barely speak through your cries, hitting that sweet spot that every other asshole misses. 
You’re too scared to give him what he wants. But you feel him, everywhere, and you still want more, of course, you’re his. That’s all you fucking wanted anyway. Plushy lips shake as you gaze up at him, his amber hues are so sticky-sweet that you still struggle to process it, words come out in a ramble “All yours, Eddie.”
His mouth crashes onto yours roughly, desire coursing through both of your bodies, almost interconnected. “Shit, fuckin’ hell sweetheart, ‘m not gonna last long.” His thrusts are getting sloppier, yet you feel the ravaging desire coursing through your veins. 
“So perfect,” he murmurs, the kiss he lays on your lips just as relentless, not letting you breathe or think for a goddamn second, you’re so goddamn close.
And you wonder, how the fuck did you even go two months without this? Without him?
“Eddie!” You cry out once you feel the pad of his thumb rubbing against your clit, eyes squeezed shut as your orgasm washes over you. Pure bliss overtakes you while you claw at his back, his body tenses, and cock flexes as he cums inside of you, groans and curses left in your hair. 
Minutes pass of you lying next to each other, breathless, processing everything that just transpired. And you should feel guilty, embarrassed, and should run to the hills for doing this with him again. 
But you’re obsessed, addicted. He’s like an excitement that you’re sure you’ve never felt before, running through your veins, like a fucking drug. 
Both of you get dressed in silence, the party booming outside is quick to bring the two of you back to reality, and out of the trance that he pulled you in. 
He breaks your bewilderment with a slight “Fuck.” Standing on the opposite side of the bed before he fully turns to you. “This wasn’t—I was supposed to talk to you.” He mutters, fingertips anxiously running through his tousled hair.
Caught off guard and awfully curious, you mumble, “About what?”
“The song…”
“I told you I liked it.”
His brow furrows deeper, and he shakes his head in frustration. “No, that’s not it—uh, did you not listen to the lyrics?”
“I did.”
“And?”
Your face searches his for some clarity, you take a step closer to him, the distance between the two of you was still awfully much according to him. “What are you asking of me, Eddie? Did you really think one song would just solve everything?”
“You don’t get it, do you?”
“W—what am I supposed to get Eddie? You wanna have your cake and eat it too! And I just can’t fucking do that, not anymore.”
“That’s—that’s not it!” His voice wavers, with urgency, and desperation in his tone. He takes a step forward, attempting to bridge the emotional gap, feeling so fucking frustrated that he wants to rip his hair out.
“Then fucking explain it to me!” You plead. 
“You want an explanation, fine! Fucking fine!” His frustration echoed through the room, pacing back and forth, making you take a deep breath. 
Was he… actually gonna do this? 
“You wanna know what the fuck I’ve been doing ever since you ghosted me?” He ran a hand through his hair, scared, gaze all mellow and vulnerable in a way you have never seen before. It makes your shoulders slump when you nod. 
“I go to those stupid Hollywood parties, meet asshole rockstars—the most interesting shit, yet somehow someway the thought of you will pop up in my mind, uncalled for, might I add, and then I can’t stop thinking about it, can’t stop thinking about you the whole fucking day.” Your eyes widen, trying to absorb his revelation, yet he won’t stop rambling and you feel your chest tighten with each word, fuck, he’s finally doing it.
“I—I never—shit! I never thought myself capable of feeling things like this, but fuck, you came along, with that goddamn smile, throwing a manicured middle finger right in my face, a—and just put up with my bullshit.” His voice softened, and he couldn’t help but trace the contours of your face, to desperately know if you were on the same boat, and you look at him with such glistened eyes that his heart leaps to his stomach. 
“My world flipped upside down, and you have proven me, so goddamn wrong that I don’t even know who the fuck I am anymore!” The tears almost welled in your eyes, because, fuck, there was no way this was real.  
You reached out instinctively, the corner of your mouth twitching uncontrollably. “E—Eddie, please… please stop saying things you don’t fucking mean.” 
“Things I don’t mean?” He gives you a breathy chuckle, ironic, and nowhere near funny. His eyes bore into yours, intense and searching. “Do you think I like feeling whatever the hell this is? I fucking don’t, you have me acting like someone I’m so unfamiliar with, to the point where it scares me. All I can think about is you, you, you, because you occupy every single space of my mind.” Your eyes soften, the room seemingly pulsing with his emotions, making you feel hot everywhere on your body. 
He felt the same way.
Eddie felt the same way. 
“B—but fuck I’m scared, honey, I’m so goddamn scared,” He admits, the vulnerability in his voice cutting through the tension before he’s at your side, calloused hands grabbing you by the shoulder, so softly that you melt into him.
“Because what if—what if all of this comes crashing down one day?” His voice trembles, gaze avoiding yours, he was scared, so goddamn scared of losing you. Forever. He doesn’t want that, he couldn’t afford that. 
“Just two months away from you fucking sucked. I didn’t—I don’t wanna feel these things, but you make it so hard not to.”  His forehead rests against yours, making you suck in a deep breath, it’s all so fucking sentimental, and all you wanna do this kiss him, tell him you feel the exact same way. Tell him about your fears. 
“And now I can’t fucking stop, fuck,” He confesses, admission punctuated by a frustrated sigh. 
“I wrote you a song,” he gently caresses your cheek, and you’re so scared to look up at him, to meet his tender gaze, because you know you can’t hold yourself back. 
“I came over to this party in a frenzy when I found out you’d be here,” he continued, his fingers tracing a delicate pattern along your jawline. “I—I just I haven’t even been able to touch another girl.” Your eyes snap open, you’re sure they’re almost heart-shaped now, with the adoration you look at him.
“And, do you actually fucking think I'd write songs for just anyone—” His question lingers in the air before you shut him up with a kiss, rough, sweet, and making Eddie feel dizzy all over, his head struggles to comprehend it all, breathless but he manages to react just in time.
The booming music becoming a mere background noise when he had you, mind swirling with all the possibilities and mouth begging to never stop tasting you. He wants to let you completely engulf him, feel you everywhere.
Everything he wanted and more.
He fucking hates himself for doing this, but he pulls away, mesmerized, eyes so wide that you can’t believe this is Eddie, he’s all flustered, salmon pink. And it makes a wider grin sit on your lips. “So… you—uh, what does this mean?”
You smile at him, lips widely stretching into a grin, as you shrug. “It means I feel the same, Eddie.” you admit, tone a tender reassurance. “That’s why I tried to shut you out… to try to move on, because I was scared—fuck, but I feel the same way.”
“So, does that mean we're dating now?”
“We can take things slow, figure everything out?” you mutter with a shy gaze, lips itching to twitch into a smile, again. “But I—uh—I like you, I really, really like you.”
“Gone soft on me already, sweetheart?” he mumbles with a stupid grin, making you elbow him softly, with an exaggerated playful huff. 
He’s quick to flinch, rubbing his arm as if you even delivered a powerful blow. “Ow—what the hell is wrong with you?”
“You think I’m going soft? You’re the one who wrote his feelings as an exaggerated love song!” 
He leans further slightly, his grin widening when you gave him those adorable eyes, finding you both equally amusing and endearing. “Oh… just you wait.”
You arched a brow, curiosity piqued, “What the hell does that mean?”
“The album is coming out soon, sweetheart. If you think this was an exaggeration, you should hear the whole fucking thing.”
That glint re-appears in your eyes just as quickly, gaze softening as you melt into his embrace.
“You’re an idiot, Eddie Munson.” You tease, scrunching your nose at him, so adorably that he leans down and presses a gentle kiss onto your hair.
He's an idiot, a total complete fucking idiot, but he's all yours.
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ma1dita · 9 months
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bedtime stories
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a 'partners in crime' installment - luke castellan x dionysus!reader
words: bitch this was supposed to be a blurb. 2.4k
summary: (pre-established relationship) The one where night shift with him runs late, but you don't mind at all. You won’t admit a lot of things to Luke Castellan, but perhaps he knows something you don’t. Luke Castellan x fem!Dionysus!reader
warnings: none, banter and fluff on a night shift
a/n: Introducing luke castellan x trouble!reader… this is just gonna be ongoing blurbs and one shots of an idea in my head (and my latest hyperfixation) reader is essentially reformed unhinged bitch now camp mom and it’s enemies to friends to lovers. Working through reading the pjo series hehe
(posted 1/16/24, beta’ed by the lovely @ttulipwritezz @mrsaluado & @lixzey thank you bunches)
Dragging your feet across the dirt of the forest floor, you sigh to yourself in the quiet night air. It’s gonna be another long night and with the beep on your digital watch, you blearily peer at the time and sigh. Almost 11. Swaying slightly, you whistle a familiar tune as your nimble hands straighten out the deck chairs near the firepit, pick up trash to toss into the receptacle, and turn off the lights in the dining hall. All on the way to check Cabin 7, mind you, and the Apollo kids will undoubtedly loop you into singing a song with them before you shut the lights off and close the curtains.
Gods, your dad is definitely gonna hear about this in the morning.
It’s not like Mr. D ever really cares, or listens, more focused on droning on about missing his wife and playing pinochle even when you rattle off his…your to-do list for the week to keep Camp Half-Blood running and the younger demigods in mostly one piece. Honestly, he should be grateful he has you, and even if he is, he’ll never let you hear it.
At least you’re Chiron’s favorite.
A shadow passes your field of view, and before you can rub at your sleepy eyes, strong hands pin you to the side of a tree on the dirt path you were supposed to take across camp.
Sorry, let’s correct that—you’re one of Chiron’s favorites. The other all-star camper stares at you like you’re a three-headed dog under the beam of his flashlight.
“Just me, Castellan,” you grumble, a bit winded as you blink harshly at the bright light. “Still doing checks.”
“You’re losing your touch. You making a habit of going to bed late?” Luke smirks, and it’s actually annoying how he always looks like he knows something you don’t.
“You always pin campers to trees?”
“Just the pretty ones.” His smirk turns into a sly grin that makes you roll your eyes.
“Okay loser, I’ve got cabins to check,” you drone as you push off from the tree. “6 cut into my time after staying there longer than I had to. The little ones kept asking these otherworldly philosophical questions and Annabeth just laughed at me while I tried to not pluck my eyelashes out one by one.”
Your clipboard taps lightly against your hip despite the aggression in your voice and Luke laughs much like his little sister, a burst of sunlight overflowing into the dreary and mundane. Your lips quirk upward before you can stop and remind yourself of who you’re talking to. The tall boy reaches behind him to scratch the nape of his neck and sighs, sucking at his teeth.
“You’re always doing the most, huh?”
“Who else is going to, my dad? He’s probably already out like a light.” Once, you found your dad asleep at his desk after dinner, snoring loudly instead of keeping watch. You started taking more night shifts after that.
“Well, no. You know I’m here to help you, even if you’ll never admit it.” Luke extends a hand to you so it’s easier to navigate the step back onto the dirt-trodden path, but there’s no fun in that, so you hop around him and start walking away. The sound of his footsteps fall and match yours as he follows you, both in tandem like the sound of a steady heartbeat.
“The day you catch me admitting anything about you is the day the Underworld freezes over. You should know that by now.”
“Woooooow, so I don’t get a thank you for singing the Apollo kids to sleep? You should’ve seen the look on their faces when I walked in and not you. They ended the song pretty quickly after I opened my mouth to croak out a chorus,” he says, drawing his bottom lip between his teeth and nudging your side as you both laugh.
He’s a terrible singer, to be honest. Not even the Fates would’ve expected that from someone who otherwise seems like a perfect boy. Sometimes you wonder what he’s done in a past life to have it so easy–to look like he’s been chiseled by Michelangelo, have the athletic prowess of ten Spartan soldiers, and the heart of a hero only legends could get right. He’s probably the closest thing to an actual hero here at camp. You often find yourself looking at him in hopes of finding a crack in the porcelain of his perfection, but any fault of his seems to just build up his endurance in his quest for glory.
Maybe that’s why your dad doesn’t like him, his aspirations for something greater than the camp that’s kept you safe all these years, though the multiple complaints and headaches the both of you have given him as squabbling teenagers must’ve added onto that. Sometimes, though, the way he helps ease your load prods a funny feeling you do your best not to acknowledge in your stomach. Luke walks ahead shining the flashlight onto the dark path so you both don’t trip. It’s there now, at the sight of him offering an arm for you to latch onto to hop over fallen branches.
Mental note: tell the satyrs to move that in the morning.
As you hurdle over the brambles, you let go immediately after you steady your feet, moving his hand that’s holding the flashlight back towards the path with no other words. You are your father’s daughter after all, and he knows this—stubborn and your name have the same face.
Moving further towards your destination, the light reveals a teenage couple entangled within each other’s arms at the base of a tree out there for everyone to see in the moonlight.
“Jeez, guys, alright— pack it up, wrap it up! Could’ve at least found somewhere private… It’s curfew already, if I see you two again it’s a citation.”
The boy blushes and mumbles an apology to you, scurrying back to cabin 7, and you raise an eyebrow at a sheepish son of Hermes who swears they were all in their beds when he was singing to them.
“I don’t wanna go back to my cabin, all the boys are gross…” the girl whines, cheeks flushed from embarrassment as she flutters her eyelashes at you and Luke. You sigh. What has the world come to that young demigods are entrusted to the care of two people who barely consider themselves adults?
“Well, if you’re still in 11 with this one,” you simper, blatantly pointing at Luke, “I can’t blame you. He’s gross. Come by mine tomorrow and I’ll get you privacy curtains, okay? Trust me Yvonne, you don’t think boys are all that gross if you like kissing them.”
She nods, smiling charmingly at the two of you, before brushing past Luke and winking, “See you inside!”
Your head swivels to look at Luke with a coy expression, “There’s no way she’s not an Aphrodite.”
Luke huffs as he clicks his flashlight on and off. His hands are always fidgeting, always searching for something to do. He’s more like his dad than he thinks, carrying the quieter traits of quick fingers and more obvious ones like his constant search for amusement. Talking to you consistently satiates that itch.
“Aphrodite isn’t the only god that attracts attractive people, you know.”
“Oh? Do tell, because if she’s one of you, your cabin’s gonna be extra trouble,” your mouth curves into a smile, and he thinks he likes it more when you’re trying to be mean to him like this because the back and forth between you two is a comfort Luke cherishes. The words have lost their bite over the years, and there are no more cuts and bruises besides an occasional wounded ego, but it’s still entertaining, to say the least. He can’t imagine a day without hearing the teasing lilt of your voice, always easy to prod at and always wanting to have the last word.
“My dad is the god of thieves and messengers. We’re fast, smart, charming, and also good-looking. Do the math.”
“Also apparently the ones with the biggest egos, but okay.” There it is. He shoves you and you trip over your own feet falling fast.
“Hey! Jerk.”
“Definitely a daughter of Dionysus, crazy as always, and clumsy too.” Luke’s nose crinkles at the sight of your crumpled frame.
“Your hand is like the size of my face, what the fuck was I supposed to do with that?”
A fleeting thought in the back of your mind reasons that maybe violence is the answer, but he’s still not finished making fun of you even after he helps you up.
“And vulgar! What a shocker.”
“Ugh. You better hope your dad stops populating because if there’s any more that come here and act like you? I’m quitting.”
Luke watches you gaze at the heavens, probably looking for a fuck to give and he snickers at how easily you give in nowadays. Maybe he’s the one losing his touch—usually you’d put up more of a fight to argue.
“You wouldn’t. You love this job. Camp. S’why you’re not as fun anymore, Trouble.”
A noise of agreement leaves you as you glare at him and the stupid nickname back from when you used to wreak havoc just because you could, a direct juxtaposition to the honorary position you hold today. Finally following him up the front steps of Cabin 11, Luke opens the door and beckons you in, pushing at your hip with his knuckles.
Checking this place last has become a habit with Luke helping you out, and all the kids—Hermes’, minor gods’, and unclaimed, love it when you come to stop by before lights out. They especially loved the later bedtime, but hugs and cool stories from you were a close second.
“Everyone good and ready for bed in here? Sorry it took so long guys,” you say, visually scanning the perimeter and matching faces to bunks, seeing them all settled beneath their sheets, all except for one Luke Castellan. He’s still leaning against the doorframe, breath grazing your shoulder as he hands you a copy of his log from the other cabins he kindly relieved you from.
“What, no bedtime story this time?” He says through hooded eyes, and though he won’t admit it, he adores the sound of your voice. Luke does anything he can to get your attention to hear it more. It almost has a calming effect on him, and maybe it’s the fact that your dad can cause and cure madness, anxiety, and all alike, so something in him believes you do the same, powers or not. One look from him has you sputtering out snarky remarks; different strategies, same results—works every time.
“Castellan…” He grins at the look on your face, and tiny voices pop up from around the cabin, all asking for a bedtime story. Chris even starts a chant from his top bunk, making you want to hurl your clipboard at his head. Hypnos is calling your name at this point, and you’d do anything to crawl into your own safe haven in Cabin 12, but your heartstrings pull at the sight of the little ones pouting, hoping for you to tuck them in with a blanket of comforting words and stories of something more than what these walls meagerly provide. Camp Half-Blood only keeps them safe for so long, and not a lot of them make it out of here alive. You and Luke both know that being two of the oldest at camp, and his smug expression as he settles into his bed is confirmation that you’re about to give in.
“Fine. One quick story, and then everyone goes to sleep okay? Who wants to sit on the floor with me?”
You take your place sitting on the ground next to the foot of Luke’s bunk as he lays upside down on the twin-sized mattress, peering at you through one open eye as the younger children, mostly the unclaimed ones—drag their blankets and form a circle in the middle of the room, waiting patiently for you to start enchanting them with something to occupy their tired minds. Acting— that’s the gift your father had to give you; this time you decide to tell the story of Atalanta and the golden apples, how she ran from love and it still found her in the end, and how some stories can have good endings, despite what’s often found in Greek legend.
Multiple tired eyes droop closed as you finish the story and carry the ones who’ve fallen into Hypnos’ embrace back into their bunks, tucking them in with kisses on their foreheads and it leaves you with a warm feeling that will help you brave the chill on your walk back.
Admittedly, this next part is your favorite part on nights like these. The overflowing cabin of rowdy pranksters and babbling children is as quiet as the secret you hold close to your heart, tiptoeing back towards Luke’s space and draping his blanket over his muscular frame, exhausted from another day of trying to achieve greatness. Your hand brushes a dark curl away from his forehead, fingertips ghosting his pale skin like a kiss you’d never have the guts to give. With everything you have in you, you summon thoughts of serenity and peace, hoping whatever keeps him up at night lets him rest for even a few hours. You don’t pray often, finding yourself spiting your father instead of honoring him on most days, but in the dim light of Cabin 11, you find yourself making time to do so for a pain in your ass called Luke Castellan.
Perhaps he knows something you don’t after all, the crease in his forehead relaxing as you pull your fingertips away.
“Sweet dreams, angelface.”
Mental note: Put his ass to work tomorrow for falling asleep halfway through the story.
It’ll only give him another excuse to ask you to tell it again a few nights later. You find yourself not minding that, a sliver of a smile pulling at your face as you walk towards the door and shut the lights off, a sleeping son of Hermes illuminated by the gentle shine of the moon.
You’d never admit that, though.
“you steady me and stir me
all at once.”
-Tanya Wright
ask to be added to luke/general taglist!
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1K notes · View notes
plasticferal · 8 months
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hey queen! can you pls do an angst story with chris. where they get into an argument and chris said things he never meant. then he apologizes to her afterwards. ( basically angst to fluff)
damsel in distress | chris sturniolo.
i added my own twist to this ask. it's my favourite prompt so thank you! 18+ protective!ex-boyfriend chris x fem!reader. fighting, touches on themes of unwanted attention, mentions of alcohol, explicit language. reader discretion is advised. p.s inspired by the unreleased olivia rodrigo song 'prison for life'.
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the house is filled with familiar faces and strangers. a small gathering turned into a full blown house party from the moment the word got out. where the sturniolo triplets are, a flock follows. you sigh, pushing and shoving your way through the unwanted crowd.
all you want is to make it into the kitchen, miraculously being the only place no one wants to linger. the last person you need to see right now is your ex lover. chris is standing ahead of you, leaning on the kitchen counter, alone in the room. you shut the doors behind you, needing to escape. even if it means with him.
“if you wanted to get me alone, you could have just asked." he speaks smug, before taking a sip from his red solo cup.
“i'm not in the mood,” you dismiss. you open the fridge, eyes scanning the shelves but nothing calling your name.
you know you're not actually looking for anything, you just don't want to look at him. the entire night has you shaking with anger. from the mess in your home, the lack of care everyone is taking, the noise complaint you know you'll be getting later, and worst of all, that one guy who won't leave you alone.
you've never seen him before tonight, you don't even know his name, but all he's done is make you uncomfortable. try to dance with you, try to give you drinks. he brushes your waist every time he walks past.
all of your friends have been encouraging you to go for it, to get over chris. and honestly, you consider it for a moment. just to finally move on, but you can't bring yourself to. at least not with some random creep.
the break up is still raw. he tells everyone it was 'mutual' but it was a part on your request. he'd never throw you under the bus like that. he knows why you made your decision, he's never questioned it.
chris feels like it's unrequited love. although, you haven't lost any love for him, no matter how much you try to push him away. he has every right to despise you, but he doesn't.
every time you close a chapter with him, you find yourself in a sequel. it's like you're re-reading different stories, but the ending stays the same. your heart wants him, your brain wants to hate him.
"what's wrong?" he asks, sensing you're genuine in your frustration.
"nothing." you refuse to let him know what's happing in your world, let alone your mind. you don't need to let in him anymore, even though you want to let it out. he's the one person who could just sit and listen to you for hours on end.
"alright, just askin" his words trail off into a hush. he switches the tone, not wanting the conversation to stop.
“your friends are nice” he speaks in a sickeningly sweet tone, because if anyone knows how to kick you while you're down, it's him.
"you would think that" you scoff, implying that you've seen them throw themselves at him all night. him pouring them drinks, smiling and frothing over the attention he's receiving.
"the fuck is that supposed to mean?" his temperamental side seeps out, and you grow only more irritated.
"chris, can you get out please?" you huff, hands crossing over your chest. an unintentional way to seperate yourself from him, a metaphorical wall being put up.
"such a party pooper. you really gotta let loose, relax a bit." his words come out a lot more nasty that you hope he meant them, and it makes your face hot.
you give him the benefit of the doubt and think he's speaking with resilience, at the fact you keep shutting him down.
"i wonder why we ever broke up." you reply sarcastically, a fake smile on your face. he rolls his eyes, finishing off his drink and letting out an audible "ah," like a child finishing a juice box.
"i haven't seen you all night, y/n" his voice softens, and it becomes clear he's speaking for the sake of talking to you. he always wants to talk to you.
looking at the counter quickly to place his cup down, he looks back at you, tilting his head to the side slightly. he's not being horrible to you, he never has been. he's still in your life whether you like it or not, despite your hostility.
"sorry. i'm just tired." you lie. he knows it.
"your poker face isn't very good. i learnt that the hard way," he bounces his eyebrows, biting the tip of his tongue, eyes a bit wider as he stares at the ground and you can tell he's having a flashback.
you chuckle at the reference. the one time he caught you faking an orgasm didn't end very well, and he's been able to catch you out ever since. he's never been afraid to pull you up on your own fibs.
"sorry, again." you hug your body tighter, avoiding his eyes. he pushes himself off the counter with a stretch like hum and walks over to you, wrapping an arm around your shoulder.
"stop apologizing, you sound like matt," he rolls his eyes lightheartedly, and you let out a small laugh. that's always his intention, to make you smile.
"c'mon princess, let's get you a drink. seems like you need it." he nods toward to the door, rubbing your shoulder enthusiastically.
you let him try to fix your mood, because god knows you do actually need to stop stressing. you can't control what happens, just how you react. that's what chris always used to say when you were together.
feeling safe in his embrace, he security guard style moves you through the party. he hollers "excuse me!" and "coming through!" and everyone just listens, parting like the red sea. he's not the biggest guy in the room, but he sure is the most assertive. especially with you under his arm.
when you finally get to the drinks table, he makes you a vodka lemonade, saving the rest of the can for himself to finish off. it's not the most thrilling drink, but enough to keep you settled. ease the tension a bit. plus, it tastes good. no harm, no foul. as chris is mixing the liquids into cups, you feel an unwanted hand snake up around your hip.
"there you are. are you hiding from me?" your stomach drops at the voice of the mystery man towering over you, and you look ahead to watch chris's eyes snap up instantly.
chris lowers the cups, holding his eyes on the man behind you. you watch as he kinks his neck and his jaw tenses, taking a step closer. you shake your head at chris, holding a hand up subtly to tell him not to come any closer.
turning around, you stare up at the man. his breath reeks of liquor, and his shirt is drenched is sweat. it makes you sour your face and tense your entire body.
"i don't know what you want from me, but it's not gonna happen. i think you should leave." you speak sternly, trying not to let your voice shake with pure nerves. not even liquid confidence could help you right now.
"the party's just getting started," the man smiles, stumbling toward you in what you think is an attempt at a hug, but you begin pushing his body away from yours with a shove.
"dude, she doesn't want you. walk away." you hear chris's direct voice over your shoulder.
the last thing you want is negative attention on chris in a room full of people who would spread the news like wildfire. you never want that for him.
"it's okay, i got this." you dismiss chris in the nicest possible way, but you're being serious.
"come on, we'll have fun," the man hiccups through his words, mumbling them and tripping over toward you again.
"get the fuck away from her." chris's breath hits the back of your neck as he moves even closer to you.
"christopher, i'm serious. stop." you speak through grit teeth, so people can't read your lips, as he lingers next to you.
you try to be as inconspicuous as you can in your rejection to his advances, but he won't give up. the man appears more annoyed, and he grabs your wrist with a tight grip.
"let go of me." you grab the mans hand, trying to pry his grip without making it obvious.
you’re shaking at the thought of attention drawing. not for you, but for chris. eyes are already on you, being his ex. it's not what he ever wanted for you either. if he could make it all disappear, he would. it becomes more difficult when chris notices, and this time, has no intention of backing down.
"i'm not gonna repeat myself, back the fuck up." chris walks around your body, face to face with the guy who has a hold on you now.
"please, chris." you beg, voice quivering.
you know his temper can change in the blink of an eye. him and matt both have that in common.
"she doesn't need your help, pretty boy." the man splatters his words, a malicious smile on his face as he leans toward chris, almost nose to nose.
chris smiles criminally, flashing his teeth.
"you're right," chris puts his hands up in defence, a downward smile on his face as he chuckles darkly, taking a big step backward.
there's a feeling of relief, and intense fear as he actually does start to back away. but you know chris. unfortunately, it's unavoidable.
you try to catch his eyes, and speak through a begging stare without using words. he looks at you with sadness, and you mime the words, 'please don't'.
the moment the man tugs your wrist as if to leave with him, making you wince with the grip he holds. you regret your counteraction instantly, because chris reacts viscerally.
he flares his nostrils and squeezes his nails into his palm, balling up his hands by his hip. his knuckles are turning white.
before you can get pulled away, chris lunges forward with a tight fist, throwing a strong, perfectly aligned punch to the mans cheekbone. it throws the man to the ground in the blink of an eye, relieving the pressure on your skin. you stumble backwards, out of the line of fire.
chris steps heavily forward, shoving a foot into his ribcage before straddling his legs, completely overpowering him. the man projects forward to swing and hit chris's mouth. chris doesn't even flinch, like it was painless. you watch chris raise his arm up again to pummel down onto the now defenceless stranger.
the surrounding crowd gasps and yells, clearing the space that chris has created with his actions. iphone cameras flash, making you feel sick. the whispering and gossip you can already hear pounding in your head is overwhelming.
you feel so futile. chris is too in his own world to even realise the repercussions. you're not saying the guy didn't deserve it, you have no care in the world for him. you care about the aftermath.
in a fantasy world, a daydream, a fairytale even, this is attractive. a knight in shining armour, fighting for his lady. a world where there are no consequences, or social media, or fear. a reality chris has suddenly forgotten about.
he looks natural doing it, too. the veins in his arms so prominent, his tight mouth and huffed breaths as he gives it everything he's got.
you're frozen in shock, watching chris pelt another punch into the man, and you want to pull him off, you know you need to, but all your body can do is watch. watch the two men roughhousing and exchanging blows, chris taking every hit with pride.
you're numb to the feeling, screaming in your head.
appearing out of thin air, nick and matt are in your line of vision, hiding the chaos ahead of you. his brothers move into action before anyone else needs to.
they've obviously been summoned, but there's a part of you that believes they could just sense it. like they telepathically knew chris was getting himself into trouble by the lack of surprise they express.
nick grabs chris by the collar of his shirt, pulling him off. matt grabs his wrists, to stop him from using his fists. the fight comes undone, finally, but chris is disoriented. he spits onto the man as he's being escorted into the kitchen by his brothers.
your eyes burn with tears that refuse to fall, and matt sweeps your hand up, guiding you with them in a hurried manner. matt is trying to snap you back to reality, but it's just white noise.
chris hits his palm aggressively with frustration against the door frame of the kitchen as you all walk through, and you take a deep breath to compose yourself. your eyes are still welling as you choke back a sniffle, and you're not sure if it's shock, hurt, or anger anymore.
you're in a trance as you walk over to the freezer. your body is in autopilot, moving without you even knowing. you grab a frozen bag of vegetables out of the tray.
"so fucking stupid," you say nastily under your breath, slamming the door shut.
walking over to chris who's sat up on the ledge of the sink. you throw the packet at his chest, and he grabs it, questioning you for a second before matt walks over and shows him to place it on his bruised and red raw knuckles.
the room is filled with tension.
matt is biting his nails, you're leaning against the closed door, and nick finds himself squatting on the floor.
"what the actual fuck was that?" nick is too stunned to even yell, he just speaks aloud.
"i asked you not to, chris. i could have handled it myself." you shake your head, vision blurry as you stare vacantly ahead. you want to lash out at him, but for some reason you can't.
"yeah, it really looked like you had it under control." he crushes the frozen packet harshly against his hand.
"we'll leave you two alone." matt cuts through awkwardly, shooting nick a warning glare.
matt knows it's not his place to go off at chris right now. he'll do that later.
"but-" nick begins, and matt snaps toward the door. you hear nick sigh, knowing he would love nothing more than to stay and listen to you tear into chris. alas, they both leave promptly, matt flashing you a sympathetic smile on the way out.
you can hear from the other side of the door, both nick and matt are hustling trying to kick everyone out. it’s a weight lifted off your shoulders. the literal mess being left behind is the least of your worries now.
you're alone with chris in the kitchen again, the second time not being anymore pleasant than the first. you blame yourself fully for dropping your guard, even if for a second.
“i begged you not to, chris.” you repeat with a stern tone, laced with betrayal and genuine hurt.
he’s silent for a moment, staring at you from across the room with no emotion on his face. you know he feels terrible, he doesn’t have to show it. or tell you.
“did you think i was just gonna stand and watch?” he rebuttals.
“i would have preferred that, honestly.” you don’t understand how he can’t grasp the intensity of the situation.
"did you want him? go back out there then." he's bitter, pointing at the door. you roll your eyes, shaking your head in disbelief.
"chris," you start. he keeps talking.
“because i’m sure he’s still laying on the floor. go ahead. he might have a hard time talking now, though.” chris shrugs, speaking in a provoking manner.
“you’ll be lucky if he doesn’t press charges." you apprise.
“he should feel lucky i didn’t do worse.” he takes another step toward you, presumptuous in the way he carries himself.
"you've done a lot of stupid shit, chris. but that," you raise your hand as you speak, laughing in shock.
"that was unbelievable." you pinch the bridge of your nose, taking yet another deep breath.
"you know what's unbelievable is how you haven't even thanked me once" he ignores your words and bites back with irritation, face growing more twisted with upset.
"thank you?" you repeat, jaw dropping. you step toward him this time. you feel dejected trying to get him to understand.
"thank you for what? for causing a scene? for putting yourself in danger?" you step forward again, feeling like you could drive your heels into the ground beneath you.
"you're acting insane" he brings his hands to his head, tugging at his own hair with despair. his words sting, despite the back and forth arguing.
"you're the one that lashed out on that guy with no consideration for anyone else around you. that's insane" you speak with physical gestures unconsciously.
you're trying to reason with him, but with the state he's in, it's like trying to put a brain in a statue. you examine him, trying to search for his eyes but his body won't keep still, twisting and moving around.
"fuck, okay, i get it! i get it, y/n. you're not happy with me. you never fucking are apparently," his words trail off and he waves you away, turning his back to you. he sounds desperate for it to end.
you want to scream at him at the top of your lungs, and quite frankly, you could. your face burns and steam is about to shoot out of your ears.
"you don't need to protect me anymore, chris."
"i saved your ass out there." he speaks with his hand, four fingers direct to your chest. his words are like salt being rubbed into an open wound.
"saved me? that's a fucking stretch. your brothers saved your ass, because you don't think before you fucking act!"
"this is about YOU, y/n! what i did for you!" he slaps the back of right hand into the palm of his left.
"i'm not some damsel in distress that you need to sweep up and put in a tower, chris"
"yeah well at least in a tower you can't attract trouble." he speaks as if it's your fault, and of all the things he's just spit out, that's by far the worst. the most menacing and cut to the bone tone he's used.
"that was low, even for you." you huff, emotions at an all time high.
your breathing feels tight, but instead of reacting, you force yourself to seperate your emotions from the reality of the situation. you're both feeling very intensely, and expressing it the same way.
in hindsight, you could have redirected some of your emotions, but you also wish chris would take back some things he's said. there's no excuses.
chris re-collects himself and turns toward you again. he shrugs his shoulders, like he has nothing left to say. no fight left.
the closer chris is standing the more prominent his face is, and more specifically, his busted open lip.
you gasp in a mix of being upset, and shock. it feels like a piece of your heart is breaking off, seeing his delicate, pale skin so sore.
"your lip, chris." you exhale, stepping toward him.
he flinches when your hand raises to touch his face, and you know now that you've acknowledged it, it's hurting him. neither of you paid any attention to it amongst the turmoil.
"come here." you sigh, pulling his arm, bringing him over to where the paper towels are, in the corner of the sink.
tearing a white square into your hands, you rinse it under cold water lightly before squeezing the saturation out, leaving a damp cloth in your hand.
turning into chris's body, he looks down at you. he's still at last, and looks like he has no thoughts behind his now seemingly innocent eyes.
you cup his cheek gently, to turn his face downward. you bring the towel up to his lip, wiping his stained chin and mouth. he lets you, and doesn't even wince. he visibly gives into your touch. he's content.
"i need you to promise me you'll never do something like that again." you pull back, folding over a clean side and then wiping his lip softly, trying not to cause him pain.
"i can't promise that." he speaks in a whisper, as if he doesn't want you to hear his word.
with his lip no longer being red, you toss the damp and crumbling paper into sink, making it a problem for another time.
"why?" you look into his eyes, wiping your hands on your shirt.
his blue eyes are big but blameless, pupils dilated. holding his stare as your arm lowers.
"because if anyone lays a hand on you again, i'm going to prison for life." the piece of your heart that broke off earlier reattaches at his words alone.
chris's much shorter hair is spikey around his ears, and wet at the ends, turning dark brown from his sweat. you caress his messy curls, tucking it over the curves of his ears and taming the wispy strands. you hold his head in your hands, tiling him up and your mouths are inches apart.
"how hard did he hit your head?" you ask against his lips. he chuckles, genuinely.
he's an idiot, undeniably. but the gut wrenching, lawless love he has for you makes him that way. his low, smooth laughter, makes your heart skip a beat.
"i mean it, y/n."
"but i know, i know it was stupid." he admits.
"yeah, it was." you agree, shaking his head around slightly.
he grabs your hands with his own, engulfing them and holding them in his palms. he squeezes your hands, bringing them to his lips and kissing your knuckles.
"i'm sorry." he speaks on your skin.
"like really fucking sorry." he strains his head back with remorse, making his adam's apple more prominent, and he swallows hard. like he's swallowing his guilt.
"i said some nasty things. i wish i could take them back, y/n. i really do."
"i know, chris."
"no, you don't. i'll apologise to you everyday for the rest of my life if i have to. i've been horrible tonight."
"chris, enough," you hush him, the calmness in your tone making him understand you hear him. loud and clear. you need some time to forgive, but you absorb his words.
"i don't know how you didn't smack me in the mouth." he jokes, and you giggle through your breath.
"there's still time," you joke back. and he knows it by your tone.
"i could never bring myself to do that. as much as you deserve it." your banter eases the pressure, and you feel chris squeeze your hands in his again.
you rub your thumbs over his knuckles, looking at the little purple marks forming. he notices your face drop with stress, and he slips his hands away, moving to your hips instead.
"hey, i'm fine. i don't care what happens to me, i just need you to be okay."
"i am okay," you reply. he drops his face with a look that expresses he doesn’t believe you. you give a light eyeroll, and small smile.
"i mean it, i swear.” you raise your pinkie finger to him, to keep your promise. knowing it’s the only way he’ll actually believe you.
chris smiles, weak with his bruised lip, and wraps up your pinkie with his own, wriggling your hands around.
"i'm always gonna want to protect you." he pulls you toward his body. he's so warm, and radiates a magnetic energy that makes you want to collapse into his arms.
you know you don't need him to, but deep down, you would like his protection. his unconditional love. selflessness.
"i'll be sure to send you love letters in jail" you grin up at him, and laughs from the chest.
his voice is like a scratched record, fatigue taking over his body. you swallow hard, all of your senses coming back. he feels so real standing in front of you all of a sudden, like it's not just a dream you're about to wake up from.
"stay the night." you speak mindlessly.
chris brushes your hair from your face, cupping the back of your neck lightly to pull your forehead to his lips, kissing just above your eyebrows gently. he rests his chin on the crown of your head, pulling you tight to his chest in an embrace.
"i'll stay forever if you ask me to."
this is the feeling he fights for. requited love.
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hyunniesgirl · 11 months
Text
Another Love | part 1
Summary: you've been hopelessly in love with Han since you were children. One night you confess your feelings to him.
Words count: 8,539
Warnings for this part: lots of angst, drunk people, drunk Han is petty asf
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6
A/N: So I made that pool asking if I should post this fic in chapters or a 20,000+ words chapter and the long ass chapter won but at the time my mind told me I would be able to finish the whole fic before posting it... Jokes on me I need validation and feedback for me to write so yeah let's do this in chapters, sorry
A/N2: I had this idea for quite some time now but got suddenly inspired listening to the song another love.
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You're done. Really, you can't take it anymore. You've known Han Jisung since elementary school, you have been basically joined at the hip since then, your parents even became best friends because of you two.
You don't know exactly when you fell in love with him, was it on your second day at school when he invited you to play with him because he noticed you were all alone? Was it when someone made an awkward joke about your messed up hair cut in second grade and he picked a fight with them? Maybe it was the very first moment you laid eyes on him, joking around with everyone and being the most popular kid in the classroom. You really can't remember, but the thing you're sure of is: Han Jisung doesn't like you back.
You've always known that, but inside you there was a tiny bit of hope that one day he would wake up and suddenly love you back.
That didn't happen though. You are now 23 and he has never ever shown the smallest amount of romantic interest in you.
"That's fine", you thought to yourself, ever since you realized your feelings for him, "I'm going to stay with him his entire life, that doesn't sound so bad"
Until it started to sound really bad. What are you gonna do? See him getting a girlfriend, then getting engaged and eventually married? Would you always be there on the sidelines listening to his lovesick whines about the woman he loves so much? Would you be the godmother to his children? By then, would you have gotten over him already? Or would you keep this up forever, marrying someone just because you can't stay alone and being in love with your best friend for the rest of your life? That was the moment you knew you had to stop, you can't keep this up.
Coincidentally Han broke up with his last girlfriend a few months ago, you thought that would be a good opportunity for you to be his rebound, yeah, pretty dignified of you.
So you dress up really pretty, hair up, a dress that always made Han compliment you and to finish it off—the necklace he gave you on your 12th birthday.
You think this is it, this is the day you're going to tell him how much you love him and maybe, just maybe he will contemplate giving you a chance.
When he arrives at your shared apartment, with two cans of beer and fried chicken, you give him a cheerful greeting, setting the table and trying to gather courage to speak.
"So, how was practice?", you begin, maybe some small talk will help you relax.
"It was good, we are almost done with the album", he says, typing something on his phone. "How was your day?", he asks, putting the device on the table and looking at you.
"Good, I had class in the morning and tutoring in the afternoon", you take a sip of your beer, "one of the mothers actually recommended me to other parents and I'm gonna start tutoring more students next week"
He smiles, "that's good, you're really smart"
You blush, bringing the back of your hands to your face to try and lessen the hot skin of your cheeks with the cold of your hands.
"Actually, I want to talk to you", you start, it's now or never.
"Sure-", Jisung stops mid sentence when his phone buzzes. "Just a minute", he looks at the screen and smiles, your heart sinks at the sight. You know that smile too well, you have seen it dozens of times. You feel your insides turning over. It's the smile meant only for the person he likes.
"Hey, Lia. Yeah, totally, I can talk right now", he picks up the call and once again asks you for a minute lifting his index finger, he walks towards the balcony and closes the glass door after going through it.
He's laughing about something, is she even that funny or is he just trying to win her favor? She's pretty, you know it. All of his girlfriends looked like models. You sigh, looking at yourself and feeling awful, suddenly you don't feel pretty anymore, you actually feel ridiculous.
Why did you think things would change just because you got brave enough to speak up? Jisung sees you as a best friend and nothing more, you have to come to terms with that.
Your mind is rushing, thinking about what you're going to do now? Can you keep being friends with him? Yeah, of course, he's your best friend, you won't end your friendship because you can't control your feelings. But you'll need time, right? You won't be able to get over this unrequited love if you keep seeing him everyday, doing everything with him and sleeping in the same house.
"So, what do you want to talk about?", he asks, sitting again. You didn't even notice he had come back inside.
You sigh, you'll tell him about it all and then you'll find the strength in you to move on.
"I like you", you say so low you're not sure he heard you. But he did, he smiles and chuckles.
"I like you too, we're best friends for a reason", he stretches his arm to take a fried chicken.
"No, I like like you", you admit, hugging yourself, feeling cold suddenly, you look around and see Han left the door to the balcony open. "I've been in love with you since I can remember", you complete.
The look on his face would be funny if it wasn't tragic, his brows are furrowed in confusion and his eyes have a very familiar look: fear. Of course, he's afraid of losing his best friend, you already guessed that much.
"Y/N I-", you notice his breathing quickening. "I'm sorry, I never knew", he says, shoulders slumping, his arms dropping to the side of his body.
"Yeah, I know you didn't", you say. He's still staring at you with so much hurt in his eyes. Jisung knows he will have to turn you down and it's going to hurt him a lot, but not as much as it will hurt you and he never ever wanted to hurt you. 
"I'm sorry, I don't know what to say", he takes a deep breath, "I never thought about you in that way, I'm really sorry, I don't feel the same"
You're not going to cry, you decided that the moment you saw fear in his eyes. It's not his fault you like him, he can't fall in love with you just because you love him. You're not going to cry and make him feel worse than you can tell he's already feeling. But listening to those words it's worse than you could have expected, you feel like the world is crumbling around you.
"I know you don't", you smile sadly.
He looks more confused now.
"Then, why did you tell me?"
"It's just… I'm done with all this", you reply, getting up from your chair.
"Done with our friendship?" Han can feel all the air leaving his body while he waits for your answer.
You chuckle, fidgeting with your foot.
"No, I don't think I could ever be done with that", you smile trying to reassure him and he feels so relieved. "I can't keep doing this, I can't continue seeing you with other people and stay hurting alone"
"I can stop bringing people to the apartment and I'll never talk about them around you", he says trying to help and your stomach sinks a lot more. Why does he have to be so sweet?
"Actually, I'll need some time", you clear your throat, "I think I'm going to stay with Seungmin for the time being, he is looking for a roommate"
Han's eyes widen and he gets up, walking towards you.
"What are you talking about? Are you going to move out?"
"It's not something definitive, I'm going to stay there until he finds a new roommate and come back after that", you take a step back, noticing how close he is to you. "Luckily by then I'll be over you, I think I just need some personal space for now, where you're not there everytime I look, or your things aren't mixed with mine or your scent isn't around every room"
"Will you still speak to me?", he asks, he wants to hug you, to hold you in his arms and say how sorry he is for not feeling the same. But he knows he can't, the best thing he can do is to keep his distance from you right now.
"I think we should keep it restricted to apartment things for now, I'll keep paying my half of the rent since my things will still be here"
"You don't have to pay if you're not here"
Ever since Jisung started making good money he insisted that you didn't have to pay for rent since you only work part time as a tutor to pay for your living expenses but you always refused. Even though he earns a lot more than you it wouldn't be fair for him to be the only one paying and honestly, you felt that if he was the only one paying for it, you would feel too much like you were a couple.
"No, I'll pay you. This arrangement doesn't change the fact that we still share the apartment"
He nods, looking down, the awkward silence making you sick.
"I'm really sorry I hurt you", he whispers and all the crying you avoided over this whole conversation threatens to come out at that exact moment.
"It's not your fault", you say, "I'm sorry I made things awkward, just give me some time and we'll be back to how things were, okay?", you give him a reassuring smile even though you're not sure things will ever go back to the way it was.
You wake up feeling like shit, you cried your eyes out the moment you stepped into Seungmin's apartment. He was so sweet to you, staying awake until you calmed down and even offered you his room for you to sleep but you refused. He was already doing you a favor by letting you stay on his couch until he found a roommate.
You sit, stretching yourself, you slept pretty comfortably but all the stress from last night left your muscles sore.
"Are you feeling better?", you hear Seungmin's voice and look at the kitchen, he's making coffee. That reminds you of all the days you woke Han up with a nice and hot coffee so he wouldn't be in a bad mood waking up so early.
"I don't think so", you answer, shaking your head like that would make your thoughts disappear. "Can you get me some of that?", you ask and he smiles.
"Already on it", you start tidying up the blanket and the pillow you used.
"What are you going to do today?", Seungmin asks while you sit at the table.
"I have some tutoring to do and class in the afternoon, maybe I'll go shopping with Hannah later"
"That's good, try to keep yourself entertained at least for the next couple of days", he hands you the mug and you nod.
All your friends knew about your crush on Han and you made all of them swear they wouldn't tell him. You were afraid things would be awkward now, since Han was their friend before you met them, but they all showed you support now that you had confessed.
Hannah had offered you to stay with her, but she has a roommate that's really strict about everything in their apartment and you don't want to cause trouble to your friend by staying there. Luckily Seungmin's last roommate had moved a couple of weeks ago and he was looking for someone new, but by the way he's picky that's not going to happen so soon.
"Since I'll be staying here and you won't accept money because I won't be using a room, the groceries will be on me and I won't accept no for an answer", you say finishing your coffee and getting up. Seungmin sighs, rolling his eyes.
"I know you're going to buy it anyway, so I'll accept it"
"Then send me a list of whatever you need and I'll buy it tonight or tomorrow", you blow him a kiss, picking your bag from the floor and heading to the bathroom.
You take a long, hot, refreshing shower and pick some comfortable clothes to go to your tutoring session.
Seungmin's already gone when you go back to the kitchen, there's a message from him on your phone.
Minnie: I left some sliced fruit in the fridge for you, eat before going out.
Minnie: I'll send you the list later btw
You smile, having someone taking care of you is nice. For a second, it makes you forget the reason why you're there to begin with.
You feel like crying again, but you can't show up to your students house with red eyes and a puffy face.
The parents that are near each other usually ask you to teach their children together in longer sessions. That strengthens the bond the kids have while strengthening the connection between the families. That usually happens when the families are wealthy, they see an opportunity in their children's friendship to get on each other's good side.
Your parents started hanging out with Jisung's parents too, not because of connections but because you two were always in each other's houses. Once, you broke your arm falling from a tree you tried to climb following Han, his mother had to call yours and calm her down on the phone the entire time your mother was driving to the hospital to meet you. That day you got scolded by both and after they finished the lecture they looked at each other and smiled, bonding over the fear of something happening to their precious child.
When they went out to buy some coffee and talk, Jisung sat by the side of your hospital bed, lips pouting and tearing up.
"I'm sorry I dared you to follow me all the way up there", he says, taking the hand of your good arm and holding it.
"It's okay, now at least I have an exciting story to tell the others", you say and he smiles, whipping his eyes.
The noise of the gate opening wakes you up from your daydream, you have to stop thinking about Han if you want to get over him.
The kids come running in your direction the moment the housekeeper opens the door.
"Miss Y/N, look I got a 9.5 on my test", the girl smiles brightly showing you the paper with the grade marked in red.
"Woah, Misu, you're so smart, I don't think you even need me anymore", you bend to her height and she pouts, sometimes she acts like a little child when she's already 12.
"Of course I need you, you're the prettiest and smartest person I know", she says and you hear someone clear their throats by the stairs. It's Misu's mother.
"If I didn't agree with her I'd be hurt", she says and you smile.
"Good morning, Mrs. Kim, I only helped a little, Misu's really smart", you say and the girl shows you her white teeth, looking at her mother and waiting for some praise.
"Of course she is", she pats the girl's head. "Eun, aren't you going to say hi to Y/N?"
The boy is a few months younger than Misu but a lot more shy. You saw him coming with her when you arrived but got so engrossed in your conversation that forgot he was there in silence.
"Hello, miss Y/N", he says, polite as ever.
"Hi, Eun, did you get a good grade like Misu?"
He nods, showing you his test with 9.8 marked in red.
"He's smarter than me", Misu pouts.
"Congratulations, Eun", you say, patting his head, making him blush and you smile. "I think you are both really smart and I'm here to help you get even smarter"
Mrs. Kim tells you to go ahead and start the lesson and invites you to stay for lunch. You were pretty lucky with the parents you met till now, all of them were nice to you and cared a great deal about their children so it's a lighthearted job to do.
The kids are indeed smart, usually you don't have to explain the same thing more than twice and they always ask a lot of questions during your time with them.
A week goes by since you last saw Jisung, fortunately he didn't try contacting you. You're sure that if he did you'd break hearing his voice and would beg for him to like you back, giving up on any pride you still have left.
You arrive at school an hour before your classes begin, you're meeting Hannah at the cafe nearby so you can talk a bit.
You look at your phone, there's a message from her saying she's on the bus but the traffic is awful so she might be a little bit late.
You choose a table by the window, contemplating if you should order already or wait till Hannah arrives.
Looking outside, you remember the moment you heard the news that you got into this university. Yours and Jisung's family were at your parents house, you both were seated on the couch when you received the message saying the college entrance results came out. You couldn't type your information, you were trembling so much Han had to do it for you.
When you read your name and the word "accepted" you actually screamed, making your mother drop the plate she had in hands. Your father and Han's came running to see what happened when Jisung showed them the screen.
Your mother and father embraced you, telling how proud they were of you and Jisung's parents did the same, like you were their own daughter.
Jisung wrapped his arms around your waist and lifted you up, spinning you and making you burst out laughing. That moment was so good, you wanted to stay there forever.
"Earth to Y/N", you hear Hanna's voice and snap out of your thoughts, sighing. "Is everything okay?", she asks, worried.
"Yeah, I'm good", you say and she narrows her eyes, knowing you are not telling the truth.
Hannah left it at that though, you are going through a hard time and she doesn't want to push it.
Honestly, she don't expect you to be fine. Your lifelong crush had rejected you and to make things worse he is your best friend, so yeah, of course you are not okay.
"Then, I'm going to order", she drops her bag in the seat in front of you, "your usual?"
You nod, seeing her walk to the cashier. You met Hannah three years ago, when you started college. She's the total opposite of you, really outgoing and a total social butterfly, it seems those are the people you attract seeing how Han is the same.
She sat by your side on the first day, making a random joke and making you laugh, that's how she became your best friend. You didn't even have to tell her about your one sided love, she had to see only one interaction between you and Jisung to know exactly what was going on.
She is the one that urged you to tell him about your feelings and was very adamant about you moving on from him, she couldn't let you waste all your 20's being in love with someone that didn't like you back… or not the way you wanted to.
"So, I heard about a party", Hannah says, putting the pager on the table and sitting in front of you.
"There's like a hundred of those, you have to be more specific", you joke and she rolls her eyes.
"You know that guy from English literature? The one that dyed his hair pink last semester?"
"Yeah, it's kinda hard to forget about him", you laugh.
When Yunho came to school with pink hair a rumor of him becoming an idol started going around, everyone tried to be nice to him and all that shit but it turned out he just lost a bet.
"He's hosting this party in like a really big fancy place to celebrate his graduation", she finishes.
"That's nice", you say, fidgeting with your fingers under the table.
"Hmmm, are we going to go or what?", she asks and you glance at her.
"Were we invited?"
"Ahm, you're hot and I'm hot, why wouldn't we be invited?"
You laugh, knowing what she's doing. Hannah is more sensible than you give her credit for, you really thought she would ask about everything that happened on that night, but instead she has been trying to distract you for the past week and that is really nice of her.
She smiles, seeing you smile. Hannah knows you never give enough credit to yourself, you never think you're pretty enough, funny enough, cool enough or smart enough even though you're those things and much more. She approached you on your first day because there's just something about you, something bright and cheerful. When people are upset, mad or sad you always do your best to make them feel better, so Hannah felt this was her time to cheer you up.
The pager buzzes on the table and she gets up, going to the counter to get your orders.
You look at her coming back with a big grin in her lips, handing you the coffee with a note glued to the cup sleeve.
"To the girl with the yellow cardigan, I see you coming here often and I think you're cute, maybe we can hangout sometime? If you're up to it, text me: xxx xxxx-xxxx"
You blush, looking at the counter and seeing the cutest guy looking at you with flushed cheeks. He's so red you can see it from where you're seated. He smiles waving at you and you wave back.
Hannah has one eyebrow lifted looking at your interaction and you feel your cheeks even hotter.
"So, are you going to text him?", she asks, reading the note and you sigh.
"I don't think so", you say, sipping at your coffee.
"Why not?"
"I don't think it would be fair to someone if I start something with them when I'm still in love with someone else", you answer and Hannah sighs.
"Yeah, you have a point", she pouts, "but like, maybe messing around a little won't hurt? I mean, he's not in love with you or anything, you can talk with each other and see where things go"
Hannah's right and you know it. Even though it's still too soon, you should try meeting new people, you're not going to get over Han just by staying away from him.
This feelings, you have it with you for so long, it's hard to let it go. Loving Han is the only romantic feeling you have ever known, it's scary to walk off of this thing you know so well  to something completely new.
You have to, though. It's the only way for your friendship to keep existing. So you nod to Hannah, taking your phone out of your pocket and dialing the number written on the cup, seconds later you're typing a message.
You: Hey, it's the girl in the yellow cardigan, my name is Y/N btw
You send and hear a ping, you thought he would have his phone on silent mode and sudden embarrassment creeps up when you see him taking his phone out of the pocket of his apron.
Cute guy: Hey, I was afraid of making you uncomfortable, so let me apologize first. I just didn't know how to approach you
Cute guy: Ah, and I'm Heeseung
You change the name in his contact before replying.
You: it didn't make me uncomfortable and thank you for calling me cute.
Heeseung: you don't have to thank me for telling the truth.
You giggle, it's interesting to feel like this, even though you can tell it's something temporary.
You: lol, you're really smooth.
"Let's go?", Hannah says, smirking at you and you blush. You nod, picking your things up and getting up from the table, you wave goodbye to Heeseung before going out and he smiles brightly at you.
>><<
The morning after you went away, Han woke up feeling awful, all the things that happened the previous night coming back at him at the same time. He was sure the moment you walked out of the door, giving him your best smile and trying not to cry was the saddest he ever felt in his entire life. You were his best friend, you were everything to him, he felt like shit because he never noticed your feelings. He doesn't know what he would have done if he knew, but maybe he could have been better, talking less about his relationships and especially not bringing his hook ups to the apartment.
He got up, feeling like crying everytime he had to pass by your bedroom door, knowing you were not there and wouldn't be for far too long, all because of him. The bell rings and he runs to the door, hoping it's you, hoping you'll tell him everything was a joke and that you didn't actually like him. Even though he knows you wouldn't press the doorbell since you know the password and he knows the hurt in your eyes when he said he didn't feel the same as you was no joke.
So it was no surprise when he opened the door and found Chan and Changbin there. They did tell him they were going to stop by in the morning to pick him up but with all the things that happened he just forgot about it.
"Are you okay? You look like shit", Changbin says entering the house.
Chan looks at Han, worried.
"Are you sick?", he asks, "where's Y/N?" He knows you wouldn't leave Han alone if he were sick, but you would have shown up already by hearing Changbin's loud voice.
"She's gone", Han says, running his hands through his hair.
"What do you mean?", Chan asks with wide eyes.
"She- she confessed to me and I turned her down", he says, maybe he should have told you he could like you back, that way he wouldn't be feeling this way and you'd still be there with him.
"Shit", Changbin says, his lips pressed in a thin line.
Han looks at the both of them, why don't they look surprised?
"You guys knew about it?" He asks, a little louder than his usual voice and the boys exchange a look. "Woah, thanks for the heads up"
He shouldn't be mad at them, it's not their fault, but he's already too mad at himself so he doesn't know where else to put the blame.
"It was not our place to tell you", Chan says.
"Does everyone know?", Han asks and Changbin nods, "so I was the only one? Am I dumb or something?"
Chan sighs, "it's not really your fault for not knowing, you probably are used to the way Y/N looks and talks to you because you're best friends since you were children, but to the people outside it is pretty clear from the get go that she likes you"
"But where did she go? Are you not friends anymore?", Changbin asks the difficult questions and Chan glares at him.
"She said she will be staying with Seungmin till he finds a roommate and then she's going to come back"
"She probably just needs some time", Chan says, putting a hand on Han's shoulder trying to reassure him, and he really hopes that's the case.
>><<
You've been texting Heeseung for a few days now and he's pretty nice, he's a dance major and works part time at the cafe to pay for living expenses the same as you do with tutoring.
Hannah had convinced you to go to Yunho's party and get wasted, saying you need the college life experience the most now that you had your first heartbreak but you don't want to think about that, you want to forget that you ever loved Han Jisung.
So you drink a whole bottle of wine before leaving for the party, Seungmin's coming with you and Hannah will meet you there. You are looking good, or maybe it's the alcohol that makes you feel good, your hair is down, you're wearing a black lace cropped top you borrowed from Hannah, with a much lower neckline than you are used to, high waisted jeans and black boots.
The party is already crowded when you and Seungmin get there and it's really a fancy place like Hannah told you.
"Let's grab a drink", you yell to Seungmin.
"You should drink water, you're already drunk", he demands and you show your tongue to him.
"Nooooo, don't be a killjoy"
He sighs, it's hard to convince you of something when you're sober, it's even harder when you're drunk.
"You can have a drink after you drink a cup of water", he tells you and you nod, sounds like a win win for you.
After drinking a whole cup of water you show it to him, waiting for a praise and Seungmin rolls his eyes. What are you, a 10 year old?
"Good job, now you can drink", he gives you a cup with something mixed in it, "but you have to drink some water for each drink you take, okay?"
"Okay, dad", you joke, sipping your drink.
Seungmin knows a lot of people at the party and you feel left out every time someone approaches him so you're really happy when Hannah shows up, with a much taller boy accompanying her.
"Look who I found", she says pointing at him.
"Heeseung?", you scream, startling Seungmin who's close to you.
"Jesus, Y/N, calm down", he says putting his hand over his ear, "I'm a singer, I can't lose my hearing", he says and you pout, whining an apology even though you know he's not really mad.
"I didn't know you were gonna be here", Heeseung gets closer to you, side eyeing Seungmin.
"I didn't want to come, Hannah made me", you tell him, "this is Seungmin, he's my friend"
He nods at the boy by your side, relaxing to hear you call Seungmin a friend.
"Hey, Minnie, let's go dance?", Hannah says and Seungmin narrows his eyes suspiciously.
"I don't dance", he answers, crossing his arms and she sighs.
"For fucking sake, just come with me", she says and Seungmin follows her without more questions, he knows too well not to mess with her when she gets angry.
"You look really pretty", Heeseung says, bending a little to lessen the difference in your height. You blush even though it's not as good hearing him saying that as it was when Han complimented you, but you're trying to get over that, aren't you?
"Thanks, you look hot too", you hiccup, you don't have a filter when you're drunk. He smiles, turning around on the table and pouring you a cup of water.
"Drink this, it's going to help", he hands it to you.
"Thank you, you're so sweet and handsome", you yell again but he doesn't flinch like Seungmin did.
"You can't keep saying these kinds of things and not want me to kiss you", he says and you smile, sly.
"Who says I don't want that?", the moment he comprehends what you just said his face reddens, and he thought he was being bold.
"Once you sober up we can talk about that", he tells you and you pout. You wanted to kiss him now, maybe if you did all the hurt you were feeling would go away. Maybe you just needed someone to make you forget about Jisung.
"But I want it now", you cross your arms, behaving like a child that didn't get their way.
"Do you like dancing?", he changes the subject. Your face brightens with his question.
"I LOVE dancing", you show him the choreography to queencard that's playing on the dance floor and he laughs at your messy steps, he's sure you're much better at it while sober.
"Then drink this and let's dance", he hands you another cup of water.
"Seungmin told me I could have a drink after a cup of water, but this makes two cups of water and no drink", you point out and Heeseung can't help but find the drunk you really cute.
"This water will help you so you won't have a bad hangover tomorrow", he says and you nod, that's a good point.
Super by seventeen starts playing and you finish downing the water, grabbing Heeseung's hand and dragging him to the dance floor.
Being a dance major, of course he knows the steps and he's so good there are moments you just stop and watch him in a daze. Actually, he knows the steps to every song playing after that too, you dance so much you're all sweaty and your legs are tired. You're totally sober now, feeling ecstatic. It's so good being at a party having so much fun.
You're jumping and smiling until you see him.
You stop in your tracks seeing Han Jisung staring at you from the other side of the dance floor, your smile fades away as soon as your eyes lock with his.
He looks sick, he lost a lot of weight considering the short period of time you haven't seen each other and he wasn't smiling like he always did. He takes a step in your direction and you automatically step away, your stomach sinking.
You're feeling your heart beat so fast it's overlapping with the loud music, you gulp feeling your legs weaken, why the hell are you having this reaction? He's the same Han Jisung you've known since you were a child, the only difference now is that he knows how you feel about him.
You can't avoid him until you get over your feelings, that won't work and you know it, you have to get used to being near him feeling nothing other than friendship, but you can't see him at that moment, you just can't. You're having fun, there's a handsome guy with you and you want to like him and not Jisung.
You grab Heeseung's hand and pull him away from the dance floor, walking outside so you can breathe some fresh air.
"Did something happen?", he asks, looking confused and worried.
"It just felt stiff in there for a moment", you say and he nods.
You didn't want to explain to him why you were not speaking to your best friend and how messed up your relationship with Han is right now. You want to forget about it and your way of doing it is right by your side, handsome and available.
"So, about that thing you said we could do once I sobered up… I'm sober now", you say and he blushes, analyzing you for a moment to see if you are telling the truth.
The last drink you took was more than an hour ago and you drank so much water after that, it's a miracle you still don't have to use the toilet.
"I don't want to do something you'll regret later", he says and you appreciate how considerate he is. But right now you don't want someone considerate, you want someone that'll sweep you off your feet and help you forget what you so desperately want to. So you get closer, caging him against the wall and tiptoeing, trying to get closer to his face.
"If you don't want to, it's okay. But if you're holding back because you think I'm drunk, I'm not", that was his cue to kiss you. His lips crashing sloppily onto yours, hands cupping your face then moving down to your waist. You wrap your arms around his neck trying to get closer than you already are. He's good, you've kissed enough people in your life to know that, yet you feel sick.
You feel bad and like a horrible person because you just know he can't compare to Jisung even though you never kissed your best friend.
You feel bad thinking about someone else while kissing Heeseung, he's so nice and sweet and you know he's not fooling around, if you give him the chance he's going to truly like you and you're only using him.
You step away sighing, seeing his brows furrowed and the confusion in his eyes.
"Was it that bad?", he jokes but you can see he's feeling hurt. "I'm not trying to brag, but I never got a reaction like that after a kiss"
You smile apologetically, looking for words to explain yourself.
"It was great and you're great", you begin, "I think you're too sweet, that's why I can't lead you on"
"What are you talking about?" he asks, even more confused.
"I'm in love with someone else and I know it sounds awful, I did try to get over him with you but I feel like you'll really like me if we don't stop right now and I'm not sure if I'll be able to be that person for you", you look at him, seeing the disappointment in his face. "I'm sorry, I'm a terrible person and you can hate me if you want"
He stares at you for a few moments, sighing and giving you a reassuring smile after.
"I don't think you're terrible, I think you're truly brave for coming clean like that", you're relieved, you were afraid he would say something mean and even though you feel like you deserve it, you're really fragile right now. "Thank you for telling me before I got too deep into this and I don't know, maybe we can be friends?"
"Absolutely, I would love that"
"So, do you want to go back inside?", he asks and you shake your head.
"I don't think so, I should probably go home", you say, you don't want to go back there to see Han again.
"Do you want me to take you home?"
"It's okay, I'm going to text Seungmin and see where he's at but you can go inside, I'm going to stay here and get some more fresh air"
"Alright, I'll see you at the cafe"
You nod, seeing him walk away. Woah, you just let that masterpiece of a man go because you can't forget about a fucking unrequited love. You curse yourself, slapping your forehead.
After that, you text Seungmin telling where you are and asking where the hell he and Hannah went, sending the same message to her and waiting for their answer.
You sit on the grass, taking a deep breath. You feel a bit sick after seeing Jisung, you never thought you'd feel that way. Never in your worst nightmares did you think you would be afraid to talk to him, maybe you're scared of talking to him and feeling nothing, what if all of this was just in your head and you just needed some time apart to figure it out?
You hear steps close to you and pray it's not some horny couple trying to fuck near you, however, the moment you lay eyes on your best friend you actually wish it was a horny couple.
You get up in a jump, your stomach sinking and your head spinning. Why does it hurt so much suddenly? It feels like your chest is being torn apart and you can't do a thing to make it better.
Jisung looks worse up close, he has huge bags under his eyes and he's too pale.
You're worried about him, even though you can't have the luxury of that. Not when your insides are all messed up and you want to throw up. You walk past him without saying a word, you can't handle this right now, but he grabs your wrist holding you in place. You don't look at him, staring at the floor trying to get out of his grip.
"I miss you", he says and your heart drops to your stomach. Why is he doing this to you? It's not like being apart from your best friend is fun to you. "Can't you look at me?", he pleads but you can't find the courage to do that yet. "Please", but he sounds so desperate, you force yourself to do it.
You look at him, he's obviously drunk. Who the hell let him drink this much?
"What is it?", you sound more spiteful than you were planning and his eyes widen, releasing your arm from his grasp.
"Do you hate me now?", he asks and you sigh.
"Of course I don't hate you, you're my best friend", you say that but for some reason it doesn't feel right, it doesn't sound like the truth.
"Can't you come back home? I feel like shit everytime I wake up and you're not there"
"I told you I need time", you say, running your hands through your hair.
"Are you going to forget about me by fucking some random dude?", he asks and you glare at him, eyebrows furrowed in confusion.
"I don't understand how that's any of your business"
"It is, because you told me you love me but you act like you never want to see my face again", he scoffs.
You feel mad, what's he trying to say? Should you keep hurting just because you love him?
"I can't sit around forever, waiting for you to look at me", you say and he steps closer to you.
"I'm looking at you right now, I- I'll be good to you, I'll like you back", the moment he finishes saying that, you can't control the tears running through your eyes.
Is that supposed to be good? He would be forced to date you so he could have you close to him?
"Why are you doing this to me?" You ask and he takes a step back startled with you tears, suddenly sobering up, "it's not easy for me to be away from you, you're my best friend, but I do have some bit of dignity left in me and I won't accept less than I deserve, even if that less is the man I love with me", you wipe your tears seeing him step closer, trying to reach your hand and you step away, "don't come close to me right now, I could never stay with you knowing you don't love me, you should know that"
You turn around trying to get away from him but stop on your tracks seeing Hannah, Seungmin, Chan and Changbin right there looking at you awkwardly. Of course, the humiliation is the cherry on the top. You pass through them feeling so embarrassed you want the earth to swallow you.
The ride home is awkward and silent. Hannah and Seungmin keep exchanging looks while you look out the window trying to figure how your life became this mess.
You really should have dated Jeongho when he asked you out in middle school, it was around that time that you realized you liked Han more than just a friend—when Haneul asked to be his date to the school festival and you wanted to punch her so hard. Maybe if you had dated that boy at that time you would have forgotten the feelings you had for your friend, maybe you would have brushed it off as some childhood crush, but no, you rejected Jeongho while Han went with Haneul to the school festival and you third wheeled the whole event earning nasty glances from her every time your best friend played two times the same game so he could win you a plush too.
Back then you still thought everything would be okay, if only you had him everything would be okay.
You start bawling without notice, crying so much you can't even breathe. Seungmin stops the car and Hannah gets to the back, hugging you and caressing your hair while whispering that everything will be fine and you really want to believe her.
You don't know how you got into Seungmin's apartment, you guess he carried you inside after dropping Hannah home but you're not sure. It's sunday so he's not up yet for you to ask and it doesn't actually matter, what matters is the absolutely pathetic scene you made at the party and in the car. You want to bury yourself into a hole and never come back, how the hell are you going to face your friends after they saw you being humiliated by Han like that?
You know he was drunk, of course he was. You know he didn't mean it, he was hurt and drunk and people act on feelings not reason when they are like that. But does he think you have no pride? Does he really think you would date him knowing he doesn't like you back?
It's different when you confessed to him, you knew he didn't like you that way. But if he told you that there was something there, that he was not going to promise you anything but someday he may like you back, that's all you needed to hear. However, that didn't happen. He told you with all the words that he doesn't like that way, that he doesn't feel the same way as you do, there was no room for interpretation, no room for what if's.
You get up, in need to distract yourself. This week is going to fly by, you have tutoring lessons using up all your free time so you just have to get through the day.
There are a lot of messages on your phone, you really don't want to read them because you know that other than Hannah's, it's awkward comforting words from your other friends.
Hannah: call me when you wake up
Hannah: let's go eat something delicious, what do you think? It's on me.
Hannah: are you still not up or are you ignoring me?
You: I just woke up, calm down girl
You: why would I ignore you though? I just have to brush my teeth and eat something then I'll call you.
Binnie: morning babes
Binnie: Hannie is such an asshole
Binnie: I'll date you if you want, you're hot it's a win win for me
You chuckle to Changbin texts, he's so sweet in the weirdest way.
You: I mean, you're hot too
You: I think we'd make an awesome couple
Chan: good morning, Y/N
Chan: we didn't hear anything last night, so please, don't be awkward or embarrassed around us.
You: good morning Channie, I know you heard
You: you should have matched your story with Changbin before texting me though
You: it's okay, alright? Of course I'll be embarrassed for the time being, but we're friends I won't be embarrassed forever.
You leave your phone on the couch and go to the bathroom. You look like shit, smeared makeup, hair disgusting and you're still wearing the same clothes. You turn on the hot water, taking your clothes off and entering the shower, the warmth embracing you as you feel more relaxed.
You put on something comfortable, it's Sunday, you're going to ask Hannah to come by and you're going to order takeout.
You call her number while eating because you know she's anxious.
"Hey babes, good morning", she picks up, cheerful as always.
"Good morning", you say, biting the toast you just made.
"So, what about going out and eating something really good?", she asks.
"Hm, I'm actually not in the mood to go out? Can't you come by, we order something and watch that movie you've been bugging me for the last month?"
"Yeah, sure. We can do that", she answers and you are happy she doesn't sound upset or disappointed. With all the shit you're pulling lately you're scared your friends are going to get tired of your bullshit and stop talking to you. You used to think no one wanted a friend that's always crying and whining, but they showed you that real friends help each other.
"So what time are you gonna come?"
"I will just take a shower and wait for the bus, so in maybe like an hour?", she guesses and you nod forgetting she can't see you.
"Okay, see you then"
You decide to clean the house while waiting, Seungmin is pretty organized and clean so there's nothing too difficult. You'll just wash the dishes and vacuum a little.
Hannah arrives later than she predicted, Seungmin is already up and cleaning his room. He scolded you because it's his day to do the dishes and you shouldn't have done it because it's not fair to you.
You think he's being extra nice to you because of what happened the night before and it's true, he was really scared when you cried in his car.
He has known you for almost five years and he never saw you cry like that, even on the night you came to his house after confessing to Han you didn't cry like that. This time was different, you had a soul crushing cry, he wanted to stop the car and go to the back to hug you the same as Hannah, but he knew you were already being comforted by the perfect person.
Han is his friend, he could never choose between you two. But he couldn't deny it, that was a dick move, how could he ever say that to someone that likes him? He basically told you that he could pretend to like you if you stayed with him.
And of course, Seungmin understands the fear of losing a friend, but doing what he did just increases the chances of you never wanting to see his face again.
You are seated on the couch, watching the movie Hannah is obsessed with at the moment. She already watched it five times alone and asks anyone she can find to watch it again with her, she even repeats some sentences together with the characters.
The pizza you ordered is almost gone, you didn't know you were so hungry until the smell hit your nose. Luckily or thanks to Seungmin and Heeseung, your hangover is not that bad and you want it to stay that way so you keep drinking lots of water.
You got through the day thanks to your friends, they kept you entertained the whole time so you wouldn't overthink or even think about Han.
You are doing that just now, looking at the ceiling in the dark room. You want it all to be a dream, maybe you would wake up tomorrow and still be in middle school, you'd take the opportunity and get over him at that time, that would have spared you of some big problems.
----------------
A/N: So, I don't know how many parts this fic will have. If you like what I write please reblog or let me know in the comments, feedback give me motivation to keep writing.
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love-belle · 11 months
Text
i wake up and it's october, the loss is yours !!!
*ੈ✩‧₊˚ in which the songs she wrote haunt him while he's trying to move on.
or
for when you thought that it'd be forever. ˚ ༘♡ ⋆。˚
social media au // lewis hamilton x fem!reader
warnings - language
author's note - im so SORRY!!!!!! i genuinely have no inspiration to write atm but i still wrote this bc i felt so guilty :// i hope u like this, i love you thank u sm for sticking around <3
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yourusername my ep "i'll smile and you'll have to face it" is finally hereeee!!!!!!! i wrote one half of it on the floor of my closet and the other half in my gf's (carmenmmundt) bedroom so this obviously holds a lot of meaning to me :) i hope all of u are able to heal a part of yourself while listening to this just like how i was able to heal myself while writing and recording this <3 i love u and im so proud of u in case no one told u this today, thank u so much for supporting me, i'll forever be in love with u all
18,528 comments
username IM SCREAMING MISS MA'AM WHAT IS THIS
username you were driving fast??? i was holding back??? and i loved you babe??? but i bet u knew that???
username nothing has ever and will ever hurt me like this ep has
username I MEANT DON'T GO IT CAME OUT AS GOODBYE U SAID FINE WHEN YOU SHOULD'VE SAID WE COULD TRY
username the way she's literally our mother like AHSHSJSJJSJSKSS I LOVE U
username lewis hamilton watch ur back
username tears are streaming down what the fuck
username OH SHIT I WON THE BREAKUP
username love how this ep is her crying abt lewis and simultaneously shitting on him and somehow still blaming herself for everything
username THERE 😭 IT 😭 WAS 😭 HEAVEN 😭 KNOWS 😭 THERE 😭 IT 😭 WAS 😭 AND 😭 THERE 😭 IT 😭 GOES 😭
landonorris nice album 👍
-> yourusername thank u this random dude said it hit all the right corners
-> yourusername unlike u in the last race
-> landonorris UNPROVOKED
-> username NAH SHE'S SO WRONG FOR THIS
username did it hurt? when y/n finally acknowledged her break up but with a 5 song ep that rips out ur heart out of ur body and crushes it?
username need lewis to blind react to this NOW
username I KNOW THAT I SHOULD KNOW BETTER
username the way i know lewis saw this post and cried like imagine having to say that y/n y/l/n is ur ex gf???
-> username right like i would litch never show my face again
-> username no bc he was so "my girl is angry with me i hope death takes me swiftly" HOW IS HE HOLDING UP
username they still follow each other that HAS to mean something
username all this time we were hoping for a lewis x y/n collab but instead we got a break up and endless PAIN
-> username no bc we got "i'll smile and you'll have to face it" (feat. lewis hamilton getting ripped to shreds)
carmenmmundt so proud 🩷
-> yourusername ILOVEYOUSOMUCH
username NO ONE TALK TO ME IM CRYING OVER TWO WEEKS AGO
username WHEN U SAID WE'RE LIKE YOUR MUM AND DAD KNEW U LOVED ME BABE WHEN U TOLD ME THAT
username im in shambles whatcthe fufk
lilymhe tears are falling down LOVE LOVE LOVE LOVEEEEEEEE IT
-> yourusername i LOVE LOVE LOVE LOVEEEEEE YOU
username CAUSE U BROKE MY HEART AND MY SELF ESTEEM FOR A GIRL WHO'S A REMIX OF ME
-> username when i tell u my jaw DROPPED
username she did NOT hold back
-> username committed several felonies one by one
-> username no bc "now you're living the goddamn dream have a golden star this one's for free" had me SHOOK
username "nobody actually happy and healthy has ever felt so desperate to prove it" called me out SO BAD
username i bet lewis didn't last one (1) verse without bursting into tears
charles_leclerc 1/10. the singer called my pasta "dog shit".
-> yourusername it's a miracle i survived that
-> charles_leclerc ALEX LOVED IT
-> yourusername U LITERALLY TOLD HER UR RELATIONSHIP DEPENDED ON IT
username the way i loved u i will not be embarrassed of that just should've known when to quit ARE U KIDDING ME Y/N
username "the love we had was eating me whole i had to send it home" 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭
username yoko broke me half bc WHAT DO U MEAN he misunderstood her 😭
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lewishamilton better than i was two weeks ago
16,689 comments
username SCREECHING WHAT THD FUCK
username nah im like wtf
username WHO THE FUCK IS THAT IN TJE LAST SLIDE???? LEWIS????
username nah the audacity of men sometimes
username im going feral wgatctefuck
landonorris GROW UP!!!!!!!!!!!!!
-> landonorris sorry oscar took my phone but the sentiment stands the same
-> lewishamilton lando?
username bitches are so messy sometimes i LOVE it
username the way i know he cried while hitting post
-> username frrrr LMFAO like there's no way he's this thriving after the break up
username lewis it's okay to cry after losing mom 🗣️🥶😭🙏 we're suffering too 💯‼️🔥💔
username so no one's gonna mention that one interview?????
-> username please i SCREAMED like what do u mean he dissed her on live tv
-> username "yeah i mean you can either be mature about some things or go about it the childish way and i guess she's chosen her way so yeah"
-> username for me it's the way charles and lando both looked at him like they knew my guy was talking out of his ass 😭
username when he announced that he was dating y/n and the caption was "better than i was before" but WITH her and now it's when they've broken up and he's WITHOUT her
-> username WHY WHY WHY WH YWHY WOULD U BRING THIS UP
username slowly going insane over the fact that we're never gonna get a dog mom y/n feature on roscoe's acc ever again
maxverstappen1 not really, no. we can hear you listening to apologise by one republic.
-> lewishamilton we're not even in the same hotel?
-> username NOT APOLOGISE BY ONE REPUBLIC
-> username oh so he's DESTROYED destroyed
username nah bc if the rumours are true i will go straight for manslaughter bc wtf
-> username GIRL WHAT RUMOURS
-> username AJSJSISIKWISISJJS so basically some people were saying that y/n and lewis broke up bc lewis was finding it hard to be in a long distance relationship and they weren't seeing each other much and also he was (APPARENTLY) saying that he's js not at a point where he WANTS to be in a relationship but just 3 weeks after their break up he was seen with a girl and they're allegedly dating idk
-> usernme NAH WHAT THR CHCK
-> username how's he gonna say he doesn't wanna be in a relationship but turn around and date someone else like BRO
-> usernme lewis didn't cheat but he's still a traitor 😔💔
-> username "got the news just last month that i'm exhausting and you're not in love" makes so much sense now wtf
georgerussell63 pick up my phone??? what is this behaviour lewis???
-> lewishamilton you've done nothing except yell at me
-> georgerussell63 IT'S SO JUSTIFIED PICK UP THE BLOODY PHONE
-> username russell george i am shook
-> username omg he's madddddd
username the entire grid is gonna jump lewis bc of this no one can convince me otherwise
-> username sebastian probably yelled at him over phone
-> username toto is delaying contract renewal bc of this
-> usernme george is gonna make him kiss the barriers bc carmen asked him to
-> username mick is definitely giving him the silent treatment
-> username roscoe barked at him
mercedesamgf1 lewis, come back to the garage, we're calm. - toto wolff
-> lewishamilton make max, charles, carlos, lando, oscar, fernando and daniel leave and then i will.
-> mercedesamgf1 they're not gonna jump you, lewis. - toto wolff
-> maxverstappen1 yes we will
-> charles_leclerc yes we will
-> carlossainz55 yes we will
-> landonorris yes we will
-> oscarpiastri yes we will
-> danielricciardo yes we will
-> fernandoalo_official yes we will
-> mercedesamgf1 yes they will. - toto wolff
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yourusername i wake up and it's october, the loss is yours
comments on this post have been limited
username AHHHDJEJDIEJEKSKSK
username nobody speak to me they finally unfollowed each other
username IM CRYING ARE WE REALLY DONE DONE NOW
username OH SHIT YOU WON THE BREAKUP 🗣️🔥💯‼️
username i will forever remember the y/nlewis era 💔💔💔💔💔
username nah wtf i wasn't even this sad over my ACTUAL REAL parents divorce
username do it for roscoe guys get back bc of him :(
charles_leclerc it's november what are you doing
-> yourusername it's the formation lap what are you doing
-> charles_leclerc STOP I'M TRYING TO GET OVER THAT
-> username IM CRYING SHE WILL NEVER LET THE GRID LIVE IN PEACE
username i will always remember the way lewis was so :) whenever she was around and the way y/n was so 🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰 like
username IM SCREAMING THEY UNFOLLOWED EACH OTHER
-> username no bc why am i so destroyed over two exes unfollowing each other
username y/n i will always let u bejeweled pls give me a chance
roscoelovescoco not cools mum's
-> yourusername LOG OUT OF THIS ACC I SWEAR TO GOD LEWIS
-> username IM SCREAMING WHAT THE FUCK
username I DON'T NEED YOUR LIGHT TO BE LIT
lilymhe YOU'RE GLOWING I LOVE U STAY HAPPY ALWAYS AHSHSJSISN 😡😡😡😡😡
-> yourusername MY LOVE I LOVEEEEE YOU
username forever in love with her like AHSJSJSS
username i screamed
username someone sedate me im ginna pass out WHAT IS THIS
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elllisaaa · 1 month
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fjhkvdhfvd I LOVE YOUR BF THOUGHTS SO MUCH!!! you write them so well 😭😭😭 can we please get a vernon one!!! ahhh
thank youuu so much ! i'm really glad this concept gets attention because i really like doing this, hope you'll like it !
BF!VERNON who's maybe not the most expressive but who knows how to show you that he loves you through many other ways.
vernon says "i love you" without any words, and actually, you love it that way a lot. for example, whenever you recommend a song to him or when he sees you listening to something he doesn't know, he's gonna go listen to it too. you have a shared playlist and he also made you a playlist filled with songs that reminded him of you, and the lyrics or vibes sometimes hit so deep it makes you tear up how much he gets you. this is something recurring between you and vernon - the non-verbal communication. you can literally spend hours and hours with each other without even speaking because you don't need words to understand each other. that's something vernon loves a lot because sometimes he just wants to hold you in his arms, scroll on his phone and not talk at all. both of you often have stay at home dates rather than going out, but vernon always makes sure to plan a fun activity - like building legos, trying to learn how to paint or doing scrapbooking with pics of the two of you. it allows you to test some activities you wouldn't usually have and it's fun when it's with him.
"what are we doing tonight baby ?" - "it's a secret, but i know you're gonna love it."
he stares at you a lot whenever you're doing mundane things - washing the dishes, simply reading or when you're putting on makeup. it's so domestic, it makes his heart beat faster and think about marrying you soon. vernon also does this when you're talking with someone else, staring at you because he just loves to see you live and shine. he always has a faint smile on his lips when he's watching you, and generally, he smiles a lot around you. that's something his members quickly noticed, even before the two of you got together. and you never fail to tell him that you love his smile, and that flusters him every time. actually, every one of your compliments makes him shy. however, he often flusters you very easily with some random words or gestures and gifts that make you fall in love with him even more. vernon is the type to just look you in the eyes and bluntly tell you that you're gorgeous just because it crossed his mind suddenly how pretty you are.
"why are you looking at me like that ? is there something wrong with my makeup ?" - "you're so pretty, i don't understand how it's possible."
if sometimes vernon just wants to stay quiet and not say a word, there are other times where the two of you end up talking for hours, jumping from subject to subject because one of you always has something to tell, something to debate about. when you are talking together, it's like you're inside of a little bubble where only you and vernon exist and you love it. that leads to the both of you having so many inside jokes that nobody gets - you're laughing like maniacs when everyone else around you is just confused and doesn't understand anything. honestly, sometimes your couple looks a little awkward from the outside, but it all fits perfectly and the way you're just so right for him is something vernon still has trouble understanding. sometimes, when he thinks that he doesn't deserve you, that he thinks he doesn't do enough to make you happy, you need to remind him that he's been perfect from the start. you can count the times you saw vernon crying with your fingers, but he knows that every time he's down, he can just let go in your embrace and let himself be vulnerable.
"i feel so safe when you're here, i don't ever want you to leave."
BF!VERNON who's just going with the flow because as long as he's inside of you, it doesn't matter if he's in control or not.
he's much more talkative when it comes to sex because he just cannot shut up when you're doing so good for him. whether it's praises, just some random thoughts, babbling or degrading words, he needs to speak to you through it. when he wants to tease you, he whispers his dirty words directly in your ears, knowing how much it turns you on. when he's just so lost in how good you feel, he just says whatever is on his mind - mostly compliments and swear words. when he's in a more romantic mood, he's constantly praising you, telling you again and again that you're perfect and gorgeous. and vernon also likes it when you're talking to him too, loves to hear you say how good he's making you feel, that you're close or that you want more. generally, the noises you make are really appreciated, even going as far as stopping you from putting your hand over your mouth when you think you're too loud because vernon wants to hear it all.
"shit… you're taking me so well, baby, i don't think i'm going to last if you keep squeezing around my cock like that."
just like vernon loves doing new activities with you, he also loves to experiment in the bedroom. you want to test something ? he's down. you have an unusual fantasy that you want to try ? no problem. after all, there's no harm in doing something out of the ordinary - if you both like it, it's good, and if you don't in the end, then it's okay too, you just won't do it again. that's how he discovered some things he didn't think he would like but that slowly became his favorites, like hair pulling for example. you ask him to pull on your hair all the time when he's taking you from behind, and he loves to do it to punish you too, but he came to wonder how it would feel if you pulled on his instead. so he asked, you did it, and he never wanted you to stop. no matter if he's eating you out or fucking you, vernon wants your fingers tugging on his strands hard enough to make it hurt a little. sometimes, you're pulling at each other's hair, moaning together at the feeling.
"want me to pull on your cute ponytail ? then pull on my hair too, yeah ? fuck, just like that…"
as stated before, he loves to watch you do almost anything, but he loves to watch you get off even more. when you're fucking, he cannot detach his eyes from your glistening folds, from his cock thrusting inside of you or from your face contorting in pleasure. so sometimes, he just leans back and asks you to touch yourself for him. he knows you're frustrated because he's just one feet away and he won't touch you, but he can't help it, he loves to see you masturbate. the fact that you whine about how your fingers cannot reach as deep as his, and that it's not fair gets him so hard. if vernon is in a teasing mood, he will even jerk off in front of you, just to make it "even". the feeling of cumming together, eyes in eyes, while you're both touching yourselves is unmatched for him. also a lot of phone sex is involved, whenever he's away, he calls you at night and asks you to facetime him and show him your cunt, to touch yourself in front of the camera for him. sometimes, he's jerking off too, but sometimes he only watches you reach your orgasm while biting his lips.
"show me your pretty cunt, baby. you're needy ? then put one finger in for me."
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madschiavelique · 1 year
Text
𝐬𝐡𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐥𝐞𝐬𝐬 (𝐦𝐢𝐠𝐮𝐞𝐥 𝐨'𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫)
summary : miguel didn't like very much the way you left him all horny for you in the toilets during the unexpected mission, so once the anomalies have all been maintained, he decides to teach you proper manners
content warnings : SMUT (18+) minors dni, lots of tension, soft!dom miguel, quick boob job, cunnilingus, "it's too big", pnv sex, miguel teaches reader magic words, so much kissing i swear, no use of Y/N, biting, mention of scars (from fights, miguel's) - let me know if i forgot any !! word count : 7,7k
note : i'm sorry i took SO LONG writing this baby, but here it is (and not yet proofread but i couldn't wait hehehe). the end is corny i AM SORRY but it was already long and this is to keep a pretty open. thank u all so much for ur support !! we passed the 400 subscribers today and i'm literally jumping to the ceiling of happiness. this is the last part of the 4shot, i hope you liked it <33 i was super inspired by Shameless by The Weeknd (one of my favourite songs hehehe). enough of me talking, love u guys !!
the previous parts : 1 - love bite 2 - late night training 3 - unexpected mission
tag list : @marit332 @coralineyouareinterribledanger @sunnyx07 @mamamiriamxo @l3laze @amy180801 @gojos-goth-gf @readingfan @cheezit-luv3rr @scaleniusrm @cowboyharrryy
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Miguel hadn't followed you, so you decided to lure the creature back by calling out to it:
"You're really terrible at hide-and-seek, you know that?”
Suddenly, it turned towards you and charged at you as you leapt into the air to keep it at bay, at least long enough for Miguel to finish... what he had to do. The sound of his breathless voice replayed in your head, the heat in your cheeks rising. You propelled yourself silently up to a floor above, observing the behaviour of the dough.
The feel of his fangs on the skin of your neck, his tender kisses on your cheeks, the hard feel of his erection against your thigh as his claws pressed into the skin of it...
"Oh my god you're going to be the end of him!" exclaimed a small voice beside you.
The anomaly turned towards it at the same time as you: Lyla.
"Lyla?" you choked out, swivelling your head just in time to avoid the anomaly that had climbed extraordinarily nimbly to your floor.
"His pulse quickened, his body heat increased and his muscles contracted amazingly hard!" she chirped as you mimed shutting up or lowering her voice, but she wasn't listening and you started darting from floor to floor as she continued "You've got him completely wrapped around your finger! No pun intended."
"Please Lyla, keep it down!" you begged her, feeling like a huge red tomato as you blushed and above all hoping not to be chased away by this abomination.
"Oopsie," she smiled, placing a hand over her mouth.
The anomaly swung a ball of paste at you, and you narrowly avoided it as it crashed and exploded with power, splattering you as it went, a large drop smearing across your suit.
"I didn't know you had access to... all this," you muttered breathlessly as you ran down a corridor to get away from the unspeakable thing. "It doesn't matter... Yes, it does matter actually, how come?"
"Don't be angry, you've just given me what little fun I'm allowed to have," she said with a pout, "you know, programme life isn't always fun."
Out of breath, you let out a sigh that relaxed your shoulders with its depth. You shook your head for a moment.
"Well, we'll talk about it later, can you identify this for me?" you asked breathlessly, silently, as you spooned some of the substance and held it up to a small metal support on your watch, which lit up when you dropped a little on it.
"My pleasure, sugar," she said with a quick clap. "Hmm, that looks like a basic bread dough mixture to me. Flour, water, salt, yeast, not forgetting the anomaly gene, otherwise it wouldn't be any fun."
"It's true that I'm bursting with laughter," you say, putting both hands on your hips, still trying to catch your breath. You looked at her for a moment, biting the inside of your cheek, hesitating before asking, "Is Miguel... Done?"
"Yep, he's on his way," she said, giving you an amused wink, and you couldn't help but let a little laugh slip from your nose.
"Right," you said, clearing your throat so the anomaly could hear, "I'm going to lure this thing towards the exit!" You could hear the oily, slimy sounds coming in your direction, turning to Lyla one last time to ask: "Make sure you send Miguel my location, okay?" you said as you started to trot off.
"Already done!" she replied, blowing you a kiss which she pressed onto her hand before disappearing in a cloud of pixels.
You ran on, stammering aloud to keep the beast at your heels: " Come this way! You know, I think you'd really like rock, I've got two friends who play really well, I think you'd love to meet them!"
The pile rumbled behind you. You leapt into the air, grabbing the glass dome and hanging upside down, standing with your arms crossed over your chest.
"No, really, I think you'd like it. Oh well! You've got a head that could listen to metal, plus you've got exactly the right mouth shape to sing it, you know."
It was rumbling from the ground, right underneath you.
Then, just above you, you felt a tap on the thin glass roof, and when you looked up, you saw Miguel. It was a funny sight, the way you were standing made it look like you were reflecting yourselves in a mirror.
"Oh, hi there," you smiled behind your mask, taking on a slight intonation as if you hadn't been the cause of his delay. "Did everything go well?"
He let out a desperate sigh, the red glasses on his suit narrowing, before simply saying:
"Something unexpected came up, it was very... frustrating. But I'll wait."
I'll wait. The very word made you gulp.
"Observations?" he asked, jerking his chin in the direction of the anomaly just below you.
"It's dough, we'd just have to find something to bake it with," you suggested.
Outside there was a loud bang: the lorry Gwen and Hobie had been chasing had started to roll over, and the anomaly, just as alert as you and Miguel, leapt towards the first bay window to get out.
Gwen and Hobie seemed to have managed to deal with their anomaly, the truck was completely dented, sideways, and luckily for you, the oil from the truck was starting to spread on the ground. You got out, Miguel following to examine the situation. All it needed was a spark...
"I'll try to coat it with a bit of oil, find a lighter, a box of matches, whatever," he warned, before dashing off towards the pile of dough.
You looked around, and there, as luck would have it, was a convenience store. You leapt towards it. Managing to light a lighter with your costume on would be complicated, so you managed to find a box of matches, rushing towards the street again.
Miguel kept jumping up and down to coat the anomaly, and when he finally saw you coming, he shouted: "Light it up.
So you grabbed a match, struck it against the side of the box and threw it into the oil. You stepped aside and ran further to avoid taking any damage from the fire. It immediately licked at the anomaly, which let out horrible, high-pitched screams as the paste on its body cooked and smoked, turning golden and thinning little by little.
And so, you launched the multidimensional cell that had been given to you, and finally imprisoned the anomaly.
"I think 'the more the merrier' is a phrase I like less and less," said Gwen as you catalogued the anomalies.
"Are you kidding me? This was so much fun," said Peter. "It was like doing MMA!"
"Speak for yourself, we took care of the Magic Bus driver," Hobie huffed.
"I think Gordon Ramsey would be proud of our muffin," you agreed.
"You have to admit it smelled good," confirmed Pavitr.
Everything had gone well, Gwen had finished her exam period and you were all filling in your reports. Everything was going well, and everyone was pretty relaxed, except maybe you.
It was a pretty nasty trick you played on Miguel, leaving him like that, so close to the climax, and then leaving. And somewhere in there, you feared and waited impatiently for what was to come.
You couldn't help glancing at him from time to time. He seemed to be concentrating, but sometimes you could feel his gaze on you, insistent. You found him incredibly calm, and maybe it was just because he hid it well, but just to see him lose a little of that control, you managed to brush past him for a moment when no one was looking, your knuckles deliberately brushing his thigh before joining the others. Pretending to be interested in their conversation, you couldn't help but glance over at Miguel.
Death stare was probably the closest you could come to defining the look he was giving you at that moment, and a shiver of dread ran down your spine as you swallowed. He seemed to chew the inside of his cheek for a moment, trying to act as if nothing had happened.
You weren't going to get out of this alive, or entirely.
"Well, I don't know about you, but the lack of sleep knocked me out, so I'm going to bed, see you later!" said Gwen before leaving.
"Same here, see ya," said Hobie.
And successively, the only ones left were Peter, Miguel and you.
He waited patiently, with you beside him, until Peter had finished his report and, like all the others before him, had gone to sleep. The seconds seemed to stretch out painfully, every movement and possibility accentuated by the wait. Miguel seemed tense, and you had no idea whether Peter could feel it from his side too, but you could feel your skin tingling with anticipation.
Every moment, every second tickled your mind and body like tiny needles, Miguel's gaze resting insistently on yours.
"Well, that's not all, but I think we've all got better things to do than hang around making a report," Peter yawned. "Good night, sleep well."
Oh, it won't be sleep.
He then waved goodbye one last time, turning his back to you as he headed for the exit. Miguel turned to look at you, taking a deep breath as he tilted his head back to look at you from an even higher angle.
The footsteps echoed around the room, fading away little by little as Miguel's eyes turned red, yours watching them and stifling a gasp. He took a single step closer, no more, but it was enough to intimidate you and for you to take a step backwards.
It was when the door finally closed behind Peter that he grabbed you powerfully around the waist and pinned you down on one of the desks, causing you to squeal in surprise as you widened your eyes for a moment, blinking frantically. In less time than it took to say 'empanada' Miguel had you completely under control, immobilising you faster than poison and more powerfully than a pair of handcuffs.
His nose wrinkled slightly.
"Did you enjoy your little act?" he asked, his tone extraordinarily calm, which made him all the more menacing. "Leaving me like that without finishing what you'd started?"
Your heart was racing, and suddenly just meeting his gaze seemed too powerful to maintain eye contact, so you turned your head to the side. Was it simply because you were embarrassed by your own little prank, or was it just that the intensity of his eyes on yours was too much? But Miguel wasn't going to have it any other way, so with one of his hands he grabbed your jaw and redirected it so that you were facing him.
"It's very rude not to look into someone's eyes when they're talking to you, you know that," he whispered, moving a little closer. "We're going to have to correct that, and teach you polite forms of address."
And you couldn't argue with that, because right now it wasn't a choice you had to make.
"Speaking of politeness, I realise that you haven't used any magic words so far for our little encounters," he said, his thumb pressing and digging into the skin of your cheek.
He moved a little closer, tilting his head to one side as you felt his nose brush against yours, moving a little closer still to feel his lips brush against yours, the simple touch of them sending little electric currents of excitement through you...
But nothing, he just grazed his lips against yours, not moving any further, but not backing away either. Your breaths collided softly, his eyes still fixed on yours with insistence.
"What do you want me to do?" he asked, his voice composed and contained, as you tried to free yourself a little from the hold his hand had on your jaw, to no avail.
His lips, so close to yours and yet so far away, gave you electrifying sensations, but you wanted more. You wanted the two of you to kiss, for your lips to become one again, for you to be able to offer him the body's 'I love you'.
So you tried to move a little closer, meeting his lips to satisfy your desire, no, your need. But he pulled back slightly, causing you to sigh in disappointment. No, you'd have to tell him.
"Kiss me," you whispered, your voice small but audible, as if you were pouring your desire into his plump lips.
A smile, the stretch of his lips pulling them a little further away from yours.
"Where," the question sounding more like a command.
His thumb eased a little in its pressure and caressed the skin of your cheek for a moment before sliding across your chin, settling just below your bottom lip.
"There," you replied, your desperation for more contact growing stronger by the second as the only thought on your mind was his kisses.
You wanted to taste that rainy, woody flavour on his lips again, and feel them assault your body with kisses.
"Only there?" he questioned, provoking your cravings even more as your impatience was felt almost painfully.
It didn't seem fair, he seemed to possess incredible composure and cold-blood as your veins pulsed through your body like lava flowing from the volcano of your heart.
The little game Miguel was playing with you almost felt like a little revenge. Could you blame him? He wanted all this as much as you did, but he liked balance, he liked things to be even, and he was making you pay for the advance you'd dared to take from him.
His thumb pressed against your plump lip, his skin barely brushing against it, and it felt like a thread sticking out with no way of pulling on it.
"Yes- No!" you moaned, feeling like a child who was denied a sweet treat, unable to hide your longing for more as his touch confused you, "everywhere."
His lips were parted, as close as ever, his warm breath spilling over yours. His thumb had moved up the curve of your lips to press against the volume of her, his eyes fixed on it.
"I didn't hear that properly," he said, his eyes returning to yours.
Their carmine colour reflected your face: eyebrows slanted back, eyes almost watery, his thumb resting on your lips as he continued to caress it mathematically to elicit a reaction from you.
You tried to squirm away for a moment, but Miguel's hand on your waist held you in place with incredible ease.
He raised an eyebrow, obviously your attempt was in vain, he hadn't started hand-to-hand training the day before like you had, he'd been an ace at physical power and combat for much longer, so of course he could immobilise you in less than no time and much less delicately if the mood took him.
His lips brushed yours a little closer, and you could almost feel them completely. But this tiny glimpse of heaven wasn't granted to you, and you whimpered for a moment before finally just saying:
"Kiss me," you whined, "please."
His eyes crinkled with his smile.
"Mira que buena."
He finally kissed you, and it was like you had taken cotton candy in your mouth and as it melted you could feel all the little crystals of sugar that were hidden by the fluffiness of the sweet, a moan of relief vibrating from your lips against his lips.
Millions of tiny sparkles crackled under your skin, rising to the surface like champagne bubbles as Miguel cupped your face and kissed you. He took your lips as if you were holding the air that allowed him to breathe, his hand going round your side to slip under your back, pressing against your pelvis to bring it close to his.
He bit your lower lip lightly before pulling away, his half-closed eyes looking into yours again. His hand came to caress your cheekbone gently, with a tenderness that was almost unlike anything he had ever offered you before.
"Tell me more about these desires you mentioned.”
Your breath caught slightly, and you suddenly felt your face heat up fiercely, as if you were leaning over the hearth of a fireplace, its fire licking your face and your being from afar. You swallowed, formulating out loud your desires, all those thoughts you'd had about him even after your meeting at the Conditioning Centre and what had happened in the cabin, seemed difficult.
"Come on, don't be scared," he murmured before leaning over to kiss your forehead gently, offering you soft, sweet words to help you get the burning out of your soul.
All those thoughts you'd had, those warm nights during that week when you'd imagined the feel of his fingers, his lips, the sweet words that interested you as he searched inside you to expose you to him emotionally, all of them could be said, especially the one that was vibrating immensely inside you at the moment.
"I want... I want you to..."
You had the impression that the words you were about to say would be like throwing a tiny stone into still water, like stepping on ice and feeling it crack, like throwing alcohol into the fireplace that was warming you up.
The hand that was resting on your cheek ran down your neck, brushing your chest as it slid to your hip and slid all the way down to your thigh, stopping in its descent at that very spot, his hand gripping it.
"Hmm?" he asked, his humming vibrating against the skin of your cheek and tickling you.
You bit the inside of your lip, your teeth pressing into your flesh and trapping some of the wet skin against your bottom teeth. You released this clutch with a gasp as your voice dropped to a whisper when you whispered :
"I want you to fuck me."
His eyes crinkled as he smiled, an eyebrow raised, his proud grin stretching across his cheek as his lip parted wide enough to reveal his fangs. He came to kiss your cheek, his soft lips caressing it as his lashes offered you butterfly kisses.
His grip on your thigh softened, his thumb making circular movements against your covered skin as a warm cloud began to form in your lower belly.
"Say that again," he said, his breath landing on your neck as his thumb began to move slightly up your inner thigh.
You tilted your head back, closing your eyes as the simple sensation of his fingers on your body caressed you sublimely, a sigh of ease slipping from your lips. Miguel then took the opportunity to kiss the corner of your jaw, laying a trail of kisses that mixed sweetness and hunger, kissing and biting your skin. He lowered his lips a little further down your neck and kissed you lazily, the coolness of his lips meeting the fire burning at the back of your head. His lips reached a sensitive corner, causing you to let out a moan.
You moistened your lips, your cheeks burning as Miguel's fingers traced the sensitive skin of your thigh and his other hand rested on the small of your back, close to the cloud of heat.
And he expected you, with all these delicious distractions, to be able to string a sentence together properly and clearly. So you tried to speak louder, swallowing before saying:
"I want you to fuck me."
His lips came away from your neck, just brushing your ear before coming back to face you. The red of his eyes was deep, hungry, but above all attentive to your every move, which made him even more intimidating. His lips were so close to yours that you could feel them moving close to your skin as he spoke.
"There must be something with my hear because I can't hear properly what you said," he said, his tone a little less contained than he had managed to convey before, less composed, "say it louder."
His fingers continued their trajectory, very close to you, to where your desires came from, the knot in your lower abdomen tightening even though he never reached the spot. So this was the intense despair he'd felt earlier? The pain of his desire overcoming his thought and logic in the simple hope that he would be touched to turn the pain into sweetness?
You tried to move your hips a little, in the simple hope that he might go further, touch you, but he steadied you in an instant with his hand on your back, making you let out a little cry of longing.
You bit the inside of your cheek, your gaze meeting his for a moment, and you saw it in the reflection of his eyes: the breadth of your desire spreading through your whole body.
You breathed in, gathering your strength and thoughts to say, "I want you to-"
His hand went up your back to the nape of your neck and traced up and down your spine, your body undulating uncontrollably as you concluded with a strangled sigh:
"Fuck me, please."
His carmine eyes watched you through his long black lashes, a proud sneer stretching his lips, your request seemed to have pleased him greatly.
If you had something to ask him, you might as well ask him politely. He tilted his head to one side, the light illuminating his jaw over his massive shoulder, it was so sharp it could have cut glass. Did he have any idea of the hold he had over you?
"Muy bien, bien hecho, muñeca," he murmured before kissing you again, gently.
His kiss was demanding, hungry, eager for your lips to be captured by his. Your hands, until now too afraid to touch anything or attempt any gesture, were tempted by the need to touch him in turn. They came to rest on his face, cupping it as he devoured your mouth relentlessly, his kiss a mixture of thirst, craving and the occasional sensation of his canines scratching your skin.
His thumb had moved up to your groin, deliberately avoiding and brushing very close to the part you'd been dreaming of him touching. Both his hands were now on your hips, gripping them to draw them to his.
And the electrifying sensation of his erection meeting in a single touch the excitement of your cunt that had grown inside you caused you both to moan together.
Your hand snaked through his hair, his sighs of comfort rushing into the depths of your body, blowing on the already burning fire inside you making it blaze and shine. His pelvis had begun to undulate against yours, the friction he was exerting against your covered flesh, against your throbbing clit, sending sparks throughout your body.
"Coño," he let out between kisses, one of his hands gripping your hip a little tighter to pull you closer to him and hold you in place while the other moved up your body like ivy on a statue, pressing against the back of your neck so that you were even closer. He wanted to eliminate any space between you, and you wanted it just as much, arching your body to his touch.
The kiss went from gentle to passionate, from passionate to hungry, and from hungry to needing more. Your tongues exchanged a waltz, and the next moment Miguel was back at your neck as your hand rested on his hip.
You needed more closeness, more of everything, but less clothing. He pulled you in again, straightening you up so that you ended up sitting on the desk, both your mouths still dancing.
He placed both hands firmly under your thighs, ready to lift you up.
"Hang on," he whispered between two kisses.
Without missing a beat you wrapped your legs around his waist, wrapping your arms around the back of his neck as he lifted you with incredible ease, heading for a door at the back of the room: Miguel's quarters.
To avoid being bothered by anything during his precious, absent sleep, Miguel didn't belong to any of the dormitories, sleeping in secluded quarters. One of his hands came up to grip one of your buttocks, grasping it with his full hand and kneading it, a little hum of pleasure vibrating from your lips against his as you nibbled on it. You kissed his cheek, tracing his jaw with your wet skin.
As he depixelised his hand from his suit and placed it on the digital recognition pad, you gently kissed his neck, a rumble rising in his throat, a mixture of threat and plea for patience. But how could you still be patient? It was impossible, you were each other's tinder box and lighter.
As soon as the airlock opened, he came to kiss you dangerously, not tiring for a moment of the sensation of your lips caught between his. He walked quickly and eagerly, his erratic breathing colliding with your warm skin.
You rounded a corner, and the familiar sensation of a mattress under your back met you almost brutally. You were out of breath, lying back, looking at Miguel.
He stood there, looking down at you. His hair was dishevelled from the passage of your hands, his eyes shining like two rubies in the half-light, watching you hungrily. He towered over you, dominating you with his size and power. You shuddered, because at the moment he looked like a predator facing the prey he was about to devour.
He chuckled, moving closer as he put one knee on the mattress, one of his hands coming to rest beside your head, leaning gently over you, crawling up to spread your thighs as his face came level with yours.
And it was with the sensitivity that only lips possess that he whispered to you:
"You have no idea how long I've been waiting for this," his mouth hungrily came to reclaim yours, his other hand sliding up your waist to reach your hip and hold it in place as he consumed you.
You were in his grip, entranced, trapped in the web of desire he had woven in your mind, every thread of which you touched bringing the spider back to its prey.
His hand came up to your head and nestled under the nape of your neck, looking for the zip to take off your suit. You helped him, pressing a little harder against his lips in your kisses as you raised your head to help him pull it off.
He found it, and you could feel with what composure he was pulling it. You knew perfectly well that if it had only been up to him, your suit would have been ripped to shreds and it would have been impossible to reassemble it properly and put it back together in one piece. But he was holding back, with difficulty.
The sensation of all those little metal teeth coming loose against your back and letting your abundantly heated skin breathe sent tingles through each of your ribs and down your spine, your back arching all the more at the sensation. Maybe having absolutely nothing under your costume could be complicated in certain situations, but it had never been as practical or as pleasant as it was right now. And Miguel seemed to agree.
His hand came to pull at the fabric, exposing your shoulder, and feeling his fingers run over it made you shiver. He continued to pull gently, your chest meeting the cool air until your breasts were bare.
He broke away from your lips for a moment, watching your skin like a flame and its enchanted dance. And you were burning, your whole body aflame with his touch, his kisses, his eyes. You couldn't undress him on your side, his costume knew no beginning or end other than pixels, and you found that profoundly unfair.
Then, very gently, his hand came to hover over your skin. It barely grazed, not even touching it, passing over the roundness of your shoulder, following your collarbone up to your cheek. He placed his hand on it, and it was as if your body was a diamond, every facet of which was illuminated by the light from his hand.
"Tan linda," he whispered, nestling back into the crook of your neck, kissing the warm, tender skin there. His kisses trailed down to your collarbone, sucking on your skin from time to time to reveal violet and pink flowers.
You hummed with delight under his touch, your body lighting up and glowing a little more with every touch of his lips against your skin. They came to rest between the valley of your breasts, his red eyes meeting yours as, while one of his hands pulled a little harder on the part of your suit that was still in place, his own suit began to depixel as he straightened up to face you.
Lips parted, you watched his body reveal itself, his tanned torso sculpted like a god. But above all, you couldn't help letting your eyes wander along the countless scars that marked his body.
Various shapes were mixed in, cuts, burns, strange, sinuous lines, all marking the traces of past dangers. And he had survived them all.
Gently, your hand came to rest on his cheek, pressing against your touch and kissing your palm as you let your fingers move down his torso. You let your fingertips trace a scar, caressing it gently, Miguel's breath shuddering against your skin for a moment.
Your breath caught in your throat as his bare hand grazed the skin of one of your tits, his thumb gently tracing the bouncing skin. His lips moved down the ridge of your breasts, kissing the soft, tender skin of it.
He looked into your eyes as he stuck out his tongue and ran it over your nipple slowly, the warmth of his saliva and the roughness of his muscle sending all sorts of little stars into your body.
It was as if your flesh was bare soil, and with his hands he brought forth flowers of many colours and intoxicating scents that enchanted you, making you drunk with his touch and the colours he painted under your skin.
His tongue traced the separation between your skin and your nipple, his hand resting on the other, pressing it gently between his large fingers. Then he kissed it gently, sucking lightly as his teeth grazed the sensitive skin. And as the moans multiplied between your lips, he stopped, a smile stretching his lips as his hand dripped down your waist and clutched the rest of your costume.
As he pulled it off, in a slow motion, he kissed his way down your belly, letting buds of caress blossom on your body. Reaching below your navel, he exchanged a glance with you, seeking approval.
As a simple response, you raised your hips, and he gently pulled the rest of the costume down, his bare fingers brushing your buttocks and thighs as he pulled until you were covered by nothing but your panties.
One of his hands grabbed your thigh, the other settled on your waist, lazily tracing your skin until it reached your groin, stopping there, drawing indescribable patterns as the fire in your lower belly heated up.
He stayed there, eyes riveted on yours, his other hand moving slightly up your inner thighs but not reaching your core either. The tingles it sent through your being were delicious, but you were getting impatient. Your pussy was almost starting to ache from the lack of touch and contact.
"Lower..." you murmured, your desires taking possession of your body, your reason silenced.
He tilted his head to one side, and the same words you'd said to him earlier in the bathroom came back to you:
"Say that again."
A grunt of frustration rattled against your teeth. Your own cards had just been used against you in your own game, and you had no say in the matter. His fingers continued to draw as if nothing had happened, sometimes reaching for half a second a little lower than where they were staying. You needed more.
"Touch me lower," you said, looking into his red eyes, which raised an eyebrow as if to say 'aren't you forgetting something?', so you punctuated your sentence with a little "please."
He smiled, dark, his tongue passing over his canine and his lip as he ran his fingers between your skin and the elastic of your panties, pulling the latter so that only the air, his hands and his warm breath covered you.
His fingers returned to your now naked groin, and he gently traced your skin, finally coming to touch your cunt, a sigh of respite taking hold of your chest as he gently passed a single finger between your lips.
"Hmm?" he hummed, raising his fingers to the height of his head, observing the sticky substance that glued to his skin, "would you look at that." Evidence of your arousal was placed before your eyes, "Am I the reason you're so wet ?"
Your head tucked into your shoulders, your cheeks heating intensely as he smiled wider.
"Tengo suerte," he murmured as his finger returned to your entrance, coating itself in more of your wetness as his thumb settled on your clit, making slow, hypnotic circular movements that tightened the knot in your lower abdomen.
Your hands clutched the sheets as you drew in a shaky breath, but he reached down and guided one of them to his hair, which you grabbed without hesitation.
"Like it when I touch you there?" he asked, echoing the words you had said to him in the cabin.
"Mhm," you agreed, unable to formulate a coherent sentence, inhaling more air as he pushed in his first finger.
His hands were big, his fingers thick, and he manipulated them all to perfection. His finger was streching you out, undulating to awaken exceptional sensations in you.
"How does that feel?" he asked, his tone composed and almost teasing in the way he asked you things.
"Good," you assented as he inserted a second finger, causing you to gasp out a moan, your eyelids closing of their own accord.
His fingers worked you out, curving up to touch the spot that made you see stars.
"Keeps your eyes on me," he whispered as his head lowered against your cunt, his hot breath falling against your damp skin, "I want you to see me."
With difficulty you complied, and he brought his tongue against your pussy, a moan of pleasure rising from your throat. The sensation of his hot, wet tongue licking your clit made your whole body burn.
Your hand gripped his hair more firmly, needing something to anchor it so that you didn't succumb entirely to all your vices. Miguel groaned at this gesture, and the sensation of his vibrant voice on your sensitive skin almost made you come in an instant.
Your pelvis moved of its own accord, and Miguel immediately grabbed it to immobilise you, his fingers and tongue working together to make you moan even more.
The sight reminded you immensely of the bullet incident: his eyes reddened, his tongue and lips resting on you while your fingers were knotted in his hair.
You were beginning to feel as if you were flying away, but it was at that precise moment that Miguel stopped, pulling his fingers out and his mouth away. You whimpered, a whiney complaint filling your mouth as you laid your head back in disappointment on the pillow, Miguel moving up to your face.
"I just wanted to make sure you'd know what it feels like."
The torment was unbearable, and you bit your lips for fear that, on the instant, you might send an insult into his face.
"Oh," he said, raising an eyebrow, "did I make you mad?"
His tone seemed almost condescending, addressing you as if you were a child. He brought his face close to yours, his eyes falling on your lips.
"Want me to fuck you, querida?" he questioned, his lips brushing yours "want me to fill you up with my cock?"
You looked up at him through your eyelashes, simply nodding in response as his simple words managed to make your hair stand on end.
"Use your words," he said simply.
"Yes," you said, beginning to learn from his lessons, trying to find more strength in your voice, "fuck me, please."
He nodded, proud.
"Good," he said, bringing his two fingers, still covered with yourself, close to your lips, "open up."
Timidly, you parted your lips.
"Wider," he ordered in a calm voice.
You obeyed, and soon felt his moist fingers on your tongue. You licked them, his eyes watching with great interest. They were thick and having them both in your mouth wasn't easy, but by relaxing your jaw you eventually managed to suck them off properly, your eyes returning to his, feverish with desire.
Without further ado, he removed his fingers from your mouth and came to kiss your lips, hungry. The entre-met you had offered him wasn't enough, and he was fasting from it to be able to taste all the other parts of you that were still untouched by his lips.
His naked erection pressed against your cunt, and your hips undulated against the sensation as you let out an excited moan against his lips, your walls closing in on nothing.
You wrapped your arms around his neck as he splayed his hand across your lower back, undoing the kiss to press his forehead against yours. He adjusted his cock in front of your entrance, coating himself in your juices, and just by that gesture and the memory of your hands, you knew it would be too much.
"Miguel it's," you breathed softly against him, "it's too big. I'll never-" but he cut you off.
"I'm sure you can take it, muñeca," he murmured softly, kissing your cheek.
He returned to kiss your lips, then asked before doing anything else:
"Ready?"
You inhaled softly, your eyes plunging into the red of his, before murmuring against his lips:
"Ready."
He nodded, coming to kiss you chastely before lining up his cock and thrusting in. A moan slipped from your lips, he was big, way too big.
"Shh," he soothed, kissing your temple, "you're tense cariño, breathe through your nose."
So you followed his instructions, trying to relax as much as possible as your nails on his back began to dig into his flesh. Your breath was coming in shaky gasps, your teeth sinking into your lip as Miguel whispered:
"You're doing so well," his hands gently caressing your arched back and thigh.
His voice relaxed you, your breathing a little more settled as he thrust deeper, stretching you out. He kissed your forehead tenderly, brushing the tiny tear from the corner of your eye with his lips.
"Just like that," he groaned, finally managing to fill you completely, "look at you taking me so well.
He kissed your lips gently, caressing the skin of your side. He kissed your cheek, then the side of your neck, sucking in one more mark.
Full, that's how you felt. He stretched you out fully, filling every inch of your being, meeting the warm cloud as he kissed you to contrast the sensation. And soon enough, you relaxed a little more.
"Are you ready for me to move?" he murmured, his thumb resting on your cheek.
As a simple response, breathing softly, you moved your hips on him. He smiled, kissing your lips softly as he pulled back slightly to push into you again, a shaky breath mingling with a moan that he swallowed from your lips.
His tongue came to meet yours, curling around it, sucking it between his lips tenderly as he took a slow rhythm to get you used to him.
He sprinkled kisses across your face, sloppy ones running over your warm naked skin, inevitably coming back to your neck, nibbling lightly. He traced your collarbone with his lips, running along it until he reached your shoulder, where the rounded skin was bitten and a moan was torn from your lips.
His hand came to take your arm, kissing the skin gently as he raised it, straightening slightly to manipulate and kiss it better.
His lips came to linger on the inner skin of your arms, depositing his lips gently as he traced that softened area, his pelvis taking on a slightly faster rhythm.
After the little treatment he'd given you, you weren't going to last long, so you let yourself be carried and touched by his adoring lips.
His tongue traced the skin on the inside of your wrist, his teeth grazing the separation between your hand and it. He came to kiss your palm, then delicately placed his lips on each of your knuckles before pressing it against his cheek.
Your thumb caressed it, and he surrendered to your touch. He then guided it to the side of your head, his fingers nestling in the crack of yours until your hands were intertwined.
"Qué guapa," he breathed.
His rhythm quickened, and you could feel the knot in your belly gradually tightening as Miguel's thrusting in and out of you became sublime, and the sounds you were making multiplied as he hit all the right spots.
Your fingers tightened on Miguel's hand as your other reached down his back to grip his arm, squeezing hard as you felt you were going to come.
"Miguel," you sobbed as he returned to kiss your lips, "I'm close."
It was a miracle you managed to get those few words right. The hand that wasn't intertwined with yours came to cup your face before moving down your body to grab your hip, a deep sigh escaping from his throat.
And you felt his canine gently bite your lip as the knot burst in your lower belly and a moan echoed in your throat. It was like a bolt of lightning striking against metal, spreading out in a powerful electric shock in your entire body as the pleasure beat like a second heart. Miguel's voice growled against your skin as you closed around him spasmodically, your nails clawing at his arm.
You twitched, Miguel kissing your forehead, your eyelids, your nose, your lips. You were slowly coming down from your clouds, the sensations you had gradually fading.
"Tan buena..." he whispered, close to your lips, "but I'm not done with you yet.”
His fingers loosened from yours as he grabbed your arms with both hands to pull you against him and straighten you up. He was sitting, still inside you, making you sit on top of him, facing him.
One of his hands grabbed one of your buttocks, guiding you to move back and forth on him, while his other was on your back, caressing it.
He came to attack your lips again, the sound of your two bodies meeting clapping in the air as you felt completely disorientated by the pleasure. The speed with which he entered you was exceptional, and the sensations he triggered were even more so.
His lips moved over the back of your neck, then settled on your shoulder, his breathing becoming more and more jerky.
You tilted your head back, your voice interspersed with the feeling of him pounding you, the heat in your belly not entirely gone and tightening again.
Then the hand that had been resting on your back slipped between your two bodies and caressed your clit, your breath catching as you felt the cloud spread once more to the small of your back.
Miguel's voice grew less hushed as his rhythm quickened, his fingers working your clit with speed as you felt the climax building up again.
And all at once, you felt his fangs penetrate your beloved as he gave a powerful thrust, and you both came. The earth stopped spinning as you felt like you'd been sent miles above the clouds, both your bodies warm against each other, both of you breathless.
Everything seemed soft, floating, an inner peace had taken hold of both of you as you came down from this peak of pleasure.
He held you against him gently, running his tongue over the two slits he'd made in your skin. He pulled out of you, placing you so gently and carefully on the mattress that it was as if he had a spider's web in his hands.
You snuggled up to him, and he pulled the blanket over you as he kissed you again.
You felt safe here, cuddled in his huge arms that wrapped around you, his hands caressing your body with pure adoration and softness.
You kissed his chest, on one of his scars, and he breathed a profound sigh.
"How did you know?" he whispered.
The end of his question never came, but it was simple: how did you know I wanted to be kissed here? Probably no one had ever touched him this way, here, like that.
"There's nothing like tenderness to soothe the scars." you smiled.
He breathed out, his eyes had returned to their natural brown. He pressed you a little closer to him, his eyes locked in yours. Blue words are the ones you say with your eyes, when your lips are too tired.
"Maybe we'll have to find a name for this pseudo-friendship?" he smiled, the little chat you'd had on the first mission coming back to you as you smiled and kissed him sweetly.
"Why when we already have two letters?" you replied, placing your hand on his cheek, kissing your palm as his hand caressed your waist.
"Two letters?" he asked, curious.
"Yeah," you confirmed, your voice becoming a whisper, "us."
He gave you a candid, sincere smile before kissing your lips softly.
"Yes," he nodded, "we could make a great us, muñeca."
Us, two letters, a whole world.
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spncvr · 6 months
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HIII I kinda suck at writing so maybe you could take my idea and use your amazing writing skills and make something of it? (Only if you want ofc!!) hear me out yk how Spencer rambles about random facts and everything at the bau imagine if he had a partner (was a profiler as well) and that knew a lot about musics or movies and would ramble about it to him?
Ignore this if it sounds stupid 😭
rambles | s. reid
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summary: you talk a lot, spencer doesn't mind.
pairing: spencer reid x reader
warnings: okay so idk if this counts as gn!reader?? but reader wears a dress lol. drinking, and again my terrible english,, lmk if i missed anything!
a/n: hey beautiful!! this deffo does not sound stupid i had fun writing it but this is so bad im sorry i didn't do u justice *crying emoji* also im so sorry this took me forever to finish LMAOOO
masterlist
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YOU CAN FEEL it.
In your spine, in your ears. The song’s quiet but it had you in its grip, tight and firm—music’s always been like that to you. It didn’t matter if it was Hendrix, Queen or even Chopin; it has always been the one thing to make you stop dead at your feet. It’s a feeling you can’t quite put your finger on. There wasn’t a word in the English language that could possibly describe how it made you feel. Perhaps, you think humorously, you ought to learn another language, or two. 
You’re wearing this dress. This sweet, white silk thing that sweeps against your knees each time you take a step. The taste of expensive wine sits against your lips, lingering. The glass rests idly around your hand and your grip is careful. Expensive red wine and a cheap dress don't usually mix well together. 
“You okay?” 
You smile, teeth and all. Spencer who’s found his place next to you, furrows his eyebrows worry painted against his soft features. He looks tired. But he’s here, with the rest of the team; he always is.
“Fine,” you say, blasé. “You, Dr. Reid?”
His eyebrows raise slightly, “Yeah, fine.” then, “nice dress.” It’s a small whisper. 
You brush your tongue against the wine on your lips. The comment catches you off guard—especially when he’s dressed like this and looks at you like that. So, all that leaves your wine-stained lips is a small: “Oh.” then, because you remember your manners you say, “Thank you.”
The song changes, and Spencer smiles, “The songs—” he says “they’re nice.”
“I—” You stop yourself from rambling because really, they’re more than nice. It’s Elle Fitzgerald. She’s—Her voice, her instrument is clear as a bell, with diction that’s almost impossible to misunderstand. Her rhythm is— well it’s, you can set her as the metronome for her own band. Which, well, isn’t exactly easy to do. The way she’s able to scoop and bend her pitches with such precision is, beyond, nice. So the song, really it’s, more than nice, it’s a masterpiece it’s—
“Uh, yeah, s’nice.” you pause, “More than nice, really.”
Spencer smiles, amused, “More than nice?” he echoes.
You clear your throat, “It— yeah. I mean, it’s Fitzgerald, you know…”
“I don’t know,” he says simply.
Figures, you think. “No, yeah. She’s, like, got this tone in her voice, you know? And it’s like she’s the one leading the band— with the rhythm, I mean. As in like, instead of the drummer, which isn’t exactly easy to do. You know, actually, some people say she — she’s got the voice of an angel. Or something along the lines; can’t really remember and—” you pause, slightly embarrassed at how much you’ve been talking.
“Er, sorry,” you mumble sheepishly. The edge of your shoes had suddenly become increasingly interesting. “didn’t mean to go on a tangent.”
Spencer kisses his teeth, and you look up to find him grinning. “No, uh,” he scratches the edge of his eyebrow. “You don’t need to apologize for talking about something you like.” He seems to think about his next words as he brushes his hand against your arm. It sends a shiver that lingers longer than the touch itself. Spencer Reid could be so cruel sometimes. 
“I love listening to you talk.”
Your dress ends up wine-stained, anyway.
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as usual my inbox is always open for requests (or just to talk lol) but it will take 192374 years to actually finish it,, reblogs are soo appreciated !! (u guys r always so kind idk why im asking for them) so is feedback btw!! (despretely in need of some)
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