#if you actually read the second part i love you | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

throatgoat4u · 2 days ago

Text

breakfast

word count: 10k

summary: matt moves to la and ghosts you, breaking your heart, but when the opportunity arises, you decide to get your revenge

warnings: emotional abuse, psychological manipulation, gaslighting, toxic relationships, exploitation of vulnerability, heavy emotional distress

a/n: guys this might be a long read...... also this is for @bernardsbendystraws song writing challenge thingy. i'm actually shocked i was able to even write this cause like i'm lazy and procrastinate a lot and the fact that the challenge had a deadline too?!?! i'm amazed. i worked pretty hard on this one and i think this just might be one of my favorite things i've written. ps and by the way, i will be calling the reader cherry in this so that's what people will call her and what she introduces herself as! also one last detail, this doesn't happen in the span of like a few weeks or like 1-2 months, this story takes place in the span of like almost a year. so yeah... enjoy!

toodles sluts :)

matthew bernard sturniolo.

god, you couldn’t stand the man. but looking at him now, his life a complete mess, there was nothing sweeter. and the best part? it was all because of you.

four years ago, the two of you were in high school. you and matt had this sort of relationship where you did practically everything like a couple—going on dates, giving gifts, whispering sweet nothings to each other, cuddling, kissing, the pda, fucking—but you were never actually official. matt didn’t do labels until he was sure. and you, like the naive girl you were, went right along with it, telling him you’d wait until he was ready.

he had promised you the world, swore up and down that you were the only one who truly understood him. it’s you and me against the world, baby. one day, i’m gonna marry you, you know that? but they were all lies. lies, lies, lies. the only thing that high school failure was good at was lying—and making it sound so convincing. and you? you had been dumb enough to believe every word.

when you two graduated, he left for la to pursue youtube with his brothers, and naturally, he fed you more lies. baby, i’ll come visit you every few months. we’ll call and text every single day, i swear. i’d never leave you, you know that, right? i love you.

it still astonished you how easily those words had slipped from his lips, how effortlessly he could say them without meaning a damn thing. but the saddest part? you ate it all up like a starving man who hadn’t eaten in years. you believed every single word because—why wouldn’t you? he was the love of your life.

for a while after the move, you and matt stayed in touch, talking almost every second. ten-hour calls, facetime marathons, endless text messages—the works. but slowly, you noticed the shift. he started withdrawing, calling less, ending conversations quicker, taking longer to reply—or not replying at all. when he did, it was just to blow you off. i’m busy. shit, sorry, next time. and you bought it. of course you did. he had just moved to la, and being an influencer wasn’t easy. you gave him the benefit of the doubt. that was—until he just stopped. he never replied. all calls and texts went unanswered. he had ghosted you.

you were left utterly broken. he had promised you so, so much. you two were supposed to spend the rest of your lives together. you were supposed to be endgame.

but the wallowing didn’t last long.

one day, you opened instagram to find a post—matt shamelessly making out with some girl at a party. a flood of emotions hit you all at once. sadness, confusion, hurt, betrayal. but most of all—anger.

how could you have been so blind? you gave him everything. your time, your trust, your heart. and he threw it all away like it was nothing.

you weren’t going to let it slide.

so you started planning.

now, four years later, you executed it perfectly. it wasn’t easy—oh no, it was tedious. every step had to work seamlessly for the next to fall into place. one wrong move and the entire plan would collapse.

and what plan exactly?

well, in theory, it was a very simple nine-phase plan. you didn’t even mean for the tenth phase to happen, but it did.

phase one: move to la

this was easy. you had finished college with a degree in fashion marketing, and job offers from la weren’t exactly uncommon. all you had to do was pick the highest-paying, most reputable one, and you were on your way.

you settled into the city faster than you expected. the air was thick with ambition, the streets buzzing with influencers and socialites desperate to be seen. it was a world fueled by image, where clout mattered more than character. and if you played your cards right, it was a world where you could thrive.

phase one: complete

phase two: befriend an influencer (preferably one with connections to matt, preferably tara yummy)

why tara yummy? simple. she threw some of the biggest parties in la, meaning tons of other influencers—some of whom could have connections to matt—would be there.

befriending tara? well, that was a process. you had to admit, you stooped to some pretty unethical and borderline pathetic measures to make it happen. and all for what? revenge on a boy. pathetic.

still, you stalked her obsessively, tracking where she would be and when. you knew her schedule for every day of the week—surprising, right? like, tara yummy having an actual schedule? technically, no. but she did go to the same coffee shop every day at exactly 12:43 p.m.

why 12:43? who the fuck cares? as long as you could follow her to her next location, you were fine with whatever time she picked for her little coffee rendezvous.

saturday, february 15, 12:42 p.m.

you were parked outside the coffee shop, drumming your fingers against the steering wheel, the hum of the engine filling the silence. your eyes flickered to the time on your phone.

what if she decided to go somewhere else today? what if something came up? had you picked the wrong day?

then, at exactly 12:44, you spotted her—rushing inside, her oversized sunglasses perched on her nose, phone in one hand, car keys in the other.

you let out a breath you hadn’t even realized you were holding, watching as she ordered her iced oat milk shaken espresso with one pump white mocha, one pump caramel, light cinnamon powder, and vanilla sweet cream cold foam. (don’t ask.)

when she finally got her coffee and walked out, you turned on your car, keeping an eye on her as she made her way back to hers. now, all that was left was to follow her—hopefully to somewhere public where "accidentally" running into her wouldn’t be suspicious.

you waited a few moments before pulling out behind her, keeping a safe distance—close enough to track her, but not close enough to look like you were tailing her.

she drove for about ten minutes before pulling into target’s parking lot.

your eyes lit up almost instantly. perfect.

you parked a few spots away on the opposite side, ensuring a clear view of her. watching carefully, you waited until she stepped out of her car and started toward the entrance before making your move.

inside, you immediately noticed—no basket.

an idea formed in your head.

you trailed behind her, watching as she browsed the aisles, picking up items—a blanket, a book, some makeup, shampoo, conditioner—until her hands were completely full. she stumbled a bit, dropping things occasionally.

this was it. your chance.

you turned down an aisle, walking toward her while she unknowingly walked in your direction. just as you neared her, you looked down at your phone—pretending not to see her—before crashing right into her.

her things tumbled to the floor, and you let your phone slip from your hands for added effect.

"oh my god! i-i’m so sorry, are you okay?" you asked, putting on the best fake concerned voice you could.

she looked up at you and smiled. "yeah, no, i’m okay. how about you?"

"i-i’m fine, don’t worry about me. i’m so, so sorry again. i should’ve been paying attention."

"hey, no, don’t be sorry. it wasn’t really your fault. hell, it wasn’t really either of our faults," she said, laughing as she bent down to pick up her stuff. but you beat her to it.

"no, here, let me get that for you," you said, gathering her things. as you handed them back, you put on a puzzled expression. "wait, you don’t have a basket?"

she shook her head, and you tsked softly before placing each item into yours.

"what are you—" she began, but you cut her off.

"no, it’s okay. i didn’t really have anything in my basket anyway. it’d probably be more useful to you," you said, handing it to her.

she smiled, taking it from you. "stop, thank you so much, you’re so sweet."

"no, stop. it’s really nothing, i don’t mind," you replied, playing it off casually. then, after a brief pause, you added, "oh, and by the way, you’re like… really, really pretty."

"o.m.g. shut up. like, actually. you’re too sweet," she giggled, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.

"no, i’m dead serious. you’re gorgeous."

"well, you too. like, oh god, you look like one of those really hot girls i see who just seem so unapproachable and intimidating," she mused, eyeing you up and down.

"why, thank you," you replied with the kindest smile you could muster. "sorry if this interaction is kinda awkward… i’m new to la and sort of looking to make friends." you lowered your voice a little, trying to sound just the right amount of shy.

her eyes widened, and her mouth parted slightly. "well, consider me your first friend. i’m tara."

"…cherry," you responded.

"nice to meet you, cherry. c’mon. you’ll be walking with me now," she smiled, grabbing your hand and dragging you along.

phase two: complete.

phase three: get invited to a tara event

over the next few weeks, you spent most of your time with tara, considering she was your only friend.

you went shopping together, got your nails done, hit the gym, had spa days, and she even showed you all the best clubs and bars in la. the two of you really hit it off, and it kinda made you feel bad that you were using her. kinda.

wednesday, march 5, 2:54 pm

you and tara were sitting on her bed, planning out her next big party. but this party wasn’t just any party—it was for you. she wanted to throw an event so you could branch out and meet new people because, being a loner in la? yeah, no, you weren’t going to let that happen. especially not with your plan in motion. if you stayed invisible, everything would be ruined. matt would win, and you'd lose once again.

"so, um… tara… how big is this party going to be, exactly?" you asked, carefully faking a nervous tone as you sat cross-legged on her bed, your fingers fidgeting with the hem of your shirt. you needed to convince her you were an introvert. playing that part would help you blend into the background and make it easier to focus on your real goal.

tara barely looked up from her phone, scrolling through pinterest, tapping on various pins as she pulled ideas for the event. “well, i’m inviting the usual crowd, so it won’t be too big,” she replied casually. “just enough to get the party vibes right.”

"right..." you sighed, casting a quick glance at the laptop screen, pretending to chew your lip nervously. your act was flawless, but the truth was, you weren’t anxious about being around people—you were just anxious about matt. you knew him all too well, and if he didn’t show up, everything would fall apart. matt was a big homebody, after all. if he didn’t come, you’d have a much harder time achieving your goal.

you needed to know exactly who matt would hang around at the party, and that meant focusing on his closest friends. it was a given that he'd stick close to his girlfriend, macy, but you had to make sure you pinpointed the others—the ones who would be your best shot at making things happen.

the two of you spent the rest of the day bouncing ideas around for the party. tara wanted to host it at her place, and you both decided on a theme—black, white, and a rich, dark red. it was bold, dramatic—something that would definitely make a statement.

tara had already invited a ton of people. for her, it was just another night to throw a party, another chance to be around her usual influencer crowd. but for you, this was more than just a party. this was the perfect opportunity to get closer to matt's friends and, eventually, get closer to matt himself—so you could finally tear him down.

“so, who all did you invite?” you asked, trying to sound casual, but your mind was already mentally listing off everyone who might be there.

tara smirked, eyes flicking up from her phone as she responded, “oh, you know, the usual bunch. larray, quen, carrington, jake, johnnie… some of the other la influencers. then, of course, there’s the triplets—matt, chris, and nick.”

you nodded along, your expression neutral, though internally, you were bracing yourself. you already knew the triplets, of course. but this party wasn’t about them. it was about the other people who would be there.

“that’s a lot of people,” you said, trying to keep your voice light, but your mind was already working overtime. “what’s the vibe like with everyone? how do they all mix?”

tara shrugged nonchalantly as she tapped away at her phone, her attention already shifting back to the planning. “honestly, they’re all chill. some can be a little extra—like, really extra—but nothing you can’t handle. you’ll fit right in. just make sure you make an entrance, you know?”

you gave her a knowing smile, nodding along, though your mind was elsewhere. you weren’t here to fit in. you were here to observe, to learn who matt’s closest friends were, to subtly insert yourself into their world. and then, you’d take him down. piece by piece, without him even realizing it.

this party was just the beginning.

phase three: complete

phase four: figure out just who’s in matt’s inner circle

you looked in the mirror as you fixed your hair, making sure everything was just right. the tight black dress hugged your hips in all the right places, the slit riding high enough to leave barely anything to the imagination. your hair was perfectly blown out, sleek and cascading down your back like silk. but still, something was missing.

your eyes landed on the red lipstick sitting on the vanity. you grabbed it, uncapping it with a flick of your wrist before carefully applying it to your lips. the deep, sultry shade coated them perfectly, adding just the right amount of boldness to complete the look.

perfect.

you pressed your lips together, ensuring the color was flawless. now, you were ready.

tara walked into the room, and her jaw practically hit the floor. her eyes widened as she took you in, her gaze trailing from your perfectly blown-out hair to the curve-hugging black dress and the deep red lipstick that added just the right amount of danger.

“oh my god.” her voice was barely above a whisper before it quickly turned into an excited squeal. “cherry, you look stunning! you might’ve just been my lesbian awakening because what the fuck?!?” she said, walking toward you with wide eyes.

you giggled, rolling your eyes as you turned slightly to check yourself in the mirror one last time. “oh, shut up,” you mumbled, but the slight flush on your cheeks betrayed you.

“no, no, i’m being dead serious.” she placed her hands on her hips, giving you an exaggerated once-over. “like, i cannot believe you’ve been hiding this version of you. you look gorgeous.”

“thanks, t,” you murmured softly, your lips tugging into a small, satisfied smile. but before you could revel in the compliment for too long, tara’s expression shifted.

“but,” she said, her tone a little more serious now, “i actually came up here to tell you a lot of people are here now. i know you’re not the party type, but… it’s your party. you need to come down.”

you almost laughed out loud at that. not the party type? oh, if only she knew. at least you’d done a good enough job convincing her that you were shy and reserved. it was all part of the plan.

“yeah, yeah, i know,” you mumbled, tugging your dress down ever so slightly, playing up the nervous act just a bit longer. “can… can you come with me? and maybe… stay with me? i don’t really want to be alone with so many people around.” your voice was soft, almost timid, as if the idea of walking into a crowded room made you anxious.

tara’s features softened instantly, her eyes filling with warmth as she gave you a reassuring smile. “of course i’ll stay with you,” she said, reaching out to squeeze your hand gently. “i won’t leave you alone for a single moment tonight, ‘kay?”

you nodded, offering her a small, grateful smile as you took a deep breath.

perfect.

you followed tara as she began to walk out of the room, her arm loosely linked with yours as the two of you made your way downstairs. the muffled bass of the music grew louder with each step, the sounds of laughter and conversation drifting through the hallway.

as you reached the bottom of the stairs, you scanned the room quickly, your mind already working.

the party was in full swing. influencers, tiktokers, and la’s finest were scattered everywhere, drinks in hand and smiles plastered on their faces.

but you weren’t interested in any of them.

your eyes swept the crowd, zeroing in on the people who mattered most. matt’s friends.

they weren’t hard to spot. matt—whenever he did decide to show up at events like these—always stuck close to the people he felt most comfortable with. usually, that meant nick, chris, and a couple of his closest friends. and tonight was no different.

one person caught your eye almost immediately. larray.

he was laughing, completely immersed in whatever conversation he was having. matt had never looked happier in a group of people and it was sort of like a stab to your heart but you quickly shook the feeling off, refocusing on the small group that surrounded matt. nick, chris, larray… and macy.

macy. matt’s new girlfriend.

the girl who had everything you ever wanted.

she was perched right beside him, her hand casually resting on his arm like it belonged there. she looked so comfortable, so secure in her place next to him. it made your stomach turn.

but not with sadness.

with determination.

there they were—laughing, chatting, blissfully unaware that they were about to become pawns in your little game.

but timing was everything.

you weren’t about to make your move too soon. not when there was so much at stake. so, for now, you waited.

you stuck close to tara, mingling with other guests and keeping up appearances. you laughed at jokes, smiled at compliments, and made small talk with influencers you barely cared about. to anyone watching, you looked like you were just another girl trying to blend into la’s social scene.

but your focus never strayed too far.

your eyes flicked back to matt’s group every chance you got, tracking their every move without being obvious.

nick and chris were in their usual spots, close to matt but engaged in their own conversations. larray was his usual vibrant self, effortlessly making everyone around him laugh. and macy… well, she was glued to matt’s side, just as expected.

you kept waiting, biding your time as the night dragged on.

and then, finally, it happened.

matt, nick, and chris stepped away, heading toward the backyard—probably to get some air or escape the chaos for a moment.

perfect.

your heart pounded in your chest as you took a deep breath, steadying yourself.

“tara,” you murmured softly, leaning closer so only she could hear, “i’m gonna go grab another drink. be right back.”

“want me to come with?” she asked, her eyes flickering toward the crowded bar area.

“nah,” you smiled, shaking your head. “i’ll be fine.”

she nodded, giving you an encouraging smile before turning back to her conversation.

and with that, you made your move.

your eyes locked onto larray, who was still standing near the bar, chatting and laughing with a few other people.

game on.

you made your way to the bar, grabbing some random drink that had been left unattended, and started to move toward larray. you made sure to stumble a bit, really selling the whole oops, i’m tipsy act. when you were close enough, you “tripped,” falling forward and spilling your drink all over him.

“shit. my bad. i didn’t mean to do that. i’m so sorry. are you alright?” you asked frantically, eyes darting around for anything to help. you spotted a napkin nearby and quickly handed it to him.

“yeah, i’m okay. chill, girl, damn!” he said, laughing it off as he wiped the drink off his shirt, giving you a playful side-eye.

“gosh, i’m sorry. i might be a little more drunk than i thought. i usually don’t trip over my feet like this,” you mumbled, shifting nervously.

“bitch, it’s okay. i promise, it’s not that deep. my clothes will dry.”

“yeah, i know. but i still feel bad.”

“well, don’t.” he waved you off, flashing you that bright, easy smile. “anyways, i’ve never seen you ‘round. you new here or what?”

“uh, yeah. i moved to la about a month ago for my job.”

he hummed, grabbing his drink off the table and taking a sip. “what do you do?”

“i actually work in fashion marketing.”

his eyes widened instantly, his interest clearly piqued. “wait, so like… do you get all the tea on the brands? tell me everything.”

you giggled softly, shaking your head. “sadly, not yet. i just started. but, trust me, you’ll be the first to know when they let me in on all the juicy shit.”

“you better.” he gave you a pointed look, but his grin was playful.

“cross my heart.” you smirked, making a little x over your chest.

“mm, i like you already.” he gave you a wink before glancing around the room. “but, babe, why are you stuck talking to me when there’s a whole party happening?”

“honestly?” you shrugged, flashing him a sheepish smile. “you’re the most interesting person here.”

“aww, stop it, i’m blushing.” he fanned himself dramatically, making you laugh.

“seriously, though,” he leaned in a little closer, lowering his voice, “stick with me tonight, and i’ll make sure you have fun.”

perfect.

throughout the entire night, you stayed glued to larray’s side. he was the perfect guide to la’s influencer scene, introducing you to a lot of people—some of whom you already recognized from social media. but your focus wasn’t on them.

no, your interest was piqued when he introduced you to madison and quen.

it quickly became clear to you that they were probably the closest people to matt—along with larray.

you watched closely, noting the way they spoke about him, the way they laughed at inside jokes that only came from years of friendship. it was subtle, but the familiarity was there.

these were the people who mattered.

and they were exactly who you needed to get close to next.

you slipped seamlessly into conversation with them, playing up the charm and matching their energy effortlessly. it was easy, really—madison was sweet and warm, and quen? well, she was sharp, funny, and didn’t seem to take shit from anyone.

by the end of the night, you weren’t just some random girl who just moved to la. no, you were now on their radar.

the party came to a wrap and as you exchanged goodbyes and promises to hang out soon, you couldn’t help but smirk to yourself.

they had no idea what was coming.

phase four: complete.

phase five: get close to macy

you realized at the party that it wouldn’t have been a good idea to try and talk to macy because she didn’t leave matt’s side once, and matt would’ve immediately recognized you if he had seen you, which would’ve completely jeopardized the plan.

see, the thing is, macy is a model, and your agency just so happened to be looking for some new faces. after the party, you made sure to keep macy in the back of your mind because you knew it was only a matter of time before you’d be working with her in person. it wasn’t long before you got the chance—both of you were assigned to the same photoshoot for a big brand that the agency was promoting.

the first time you saw her in person, she was a lot quieter than you expected. maybe it was because she was surrounded by other models and people she worked with, but she didn’t seem nearly as outgoing as she came off on social media. you had no intention of just jumping in to get to know her right away, but you did make sure to get in a few casual hellos and comments about how excited you were to be working with her.

the shoot itself was long, and there were a lot of down moments while the crew set up shots or adjusted lighting, which gave you plenty of time to talk. you started by talking about the job itself—what it was like working with the agency, the constant hustle, and how draining it all could be. at first, macy wasn’t very open, giving you short answers, but you could tell she was warming up.

after a few hours of talking about everything from the industry to personal stuff, you noticed she seemed a little more relaxed around you. when the crew took a break, you casually offered to grab coffee with her, making sure it didn’t seem like you were trying too hard. macy agreed, and the two of you grabbed a quick coffee from a nearby shop.

over the next few weeks, you found more opportunities to work together, whether it was at another photoshoot or event. each time, you made sure to keep the conversation going, offering small, relatable advice about the industry and connecting on more personal levels. she started confiding in you more—about the pressure to maintain a certain image, the loneliness that came with constantly being on the go, and how hard it was to find genuine friends in a world full of fake ones.

you didn’t push her. you just listened, offering support when needed and being someone she could trust. eventually, she started to reach out to you first, asking for your opinion on various things, and you could tell she was beginning to see you as a friend, not just another coworker.

the real turning point came when the agency booked you both for a big event. during the event, things were relaxed enough that you had a chance to talk one-on-one. this was when you dropped the suggestion—about how your agency had been looking for fresh faces for future campaigns and how they were always interested in bringing in new talent. it was subtle, but effective. macy took the bait, and the next time you talked, she mentioned she’d been thinking about it and was considering taking the next step.

the seed had been planted. you’d gotten closer to her, built the trust, and now you had her in the perfect position. it wasn’t long before macy was fully onboard with the agency's next big campaign, and just like that, your plan was moving forward.

things were falling into place—slowly, but surely.

phase five: complete.

phase six: start spreading the rumors

now that you were getting closer to macy, madison, and quen, it was time to move to phase six of the plan: spreading rumors. subtle, harmless ones at first, ones that wouldn’t immediately seem like an attack, but that would eventually create tension in matt’s friend group. you knew matt’s friends well enough to know that they would start questioning his actions if the right things were said at the right time.

you decided to start with larray. after all, he was the easiest to get to. you’d spent a good amount of time with him, and he was an open book—always down to gossip and willing to listen. it didn’t take much for you to casually bring up the fact that you’d heard a little something about matt during one of your late-night conversations.

“so, like, i don’t know if i’m the only one who’s noticed, but…” you’d start, lowering your voice, like you were sharing some kind of secret. larray, always keen on gossip, would immediately lean in.

“what? spill it,” he’d say, raising an eyebrow.

you’d shake your head, pretending to hesitate. “it’s probably nothing, but i’ve been hearing stuff about matt… like, he’s been kinda distant lately. i don’t know, maybe it’s just me, but i heard he was kinda flaky at the last couple of events. like, not showing up or leaving early.”

larray’s expression would shift slightly, as though he was mulling it over, but he wouldn’t say much at first. you could tell he was processing the information. the next time he was hanging out with matt and the crew, he’d likely file that tidbit away in the back of his mind.

from there, you’d move on to madison. she was always more perceptive, more cautious about things, but you were good at working your way into people’s trust. one day, as you sat together, sipping your drinks, you’d casually bring up something you’d overheard.

“you know, i’ve noticed matt’s been kinda off lately. like, i don’t know if it’s just me, but he seems different. like, more withdrawn? you know, i’ve been hearing that he’s been talking behind people’s backs about his friends.”

madison would pause, taking a sip from her own drink, but her eyes would narrow just a little. “seriously? that doesn’t sound like him,” she’d say. “who’s he been talking about?”

“i mean, i don’t know if it’s about any one person specifically, but i’ve heard him say stuff about the larray before. not, like, bad stuff, but, like, you know, a little judgmental. he’s always got something to say when he’s not around, which is kinda weird, right?”

madison would probably just shrug it off at first, but you'd know that this type of gossip would linger in the back of her mind, especially when she started noticing the little things that seemed off in matt’s behavior.

last but not least, you’d work on quen. she was sharp, observant, and you knew that getting her to trust you enough to believe what you were saying would be a challenge. but you were up for it. your approach would be a little more direct with her.

one afternoon, you’d be hanging out, and you’d make sure to mention something that would start getting her wheels turning.

“i don’t know if you’ve noticed, but matt’s been acting really off lately. like, he’s not as, i don’t know, present? when he’s around the group, it’s like he’s just not… engaged. he’s distant. i heard him say some weird stuff about how he feels like he’s outgrown a lot of the people around him.”

quen would furrow her brows, not immediately responding. “outgrown? huh. that’s… odd. i mean, he’s always been the one trying to keep everyone together.”

“right? and now he’s just, like, pulling away. it’s strange. especially with how close he used to be with everyone.” you’d pause and look at her, as if genuinely concerned, adding, “maybe i’m reading too much into it, but it’s not just me noticing.”

quen would likely stay quiet for a moment, processing it, but deep down, she’d start to think about it. the next time she was with matt, she'd start paying more attention to the way he interacted with the group. the little things would start to show.

with each of them—larray, madison, and quen—you carefully planted just enough doubt to make them start second-guessing matt’s intentions, his loyalty, and his true feelings toward his friends. nothing too drastic at first, just small seeds of uncertainty. but soon enough, the tension would begin to rise. they’d start noticing what they hadn’t before.

and once they did, it would only be a matter of time before matt’s world began to shift.

you let the information sit with them for a while before starting to up the stakes—making the rumors a bit more… compromising.

“girl, don’t even get me started. i heard matt’s been real weird lately,” you say casually, swirling the straw in your drink as you sit next to larray. it’s subtle, but you know exactly what you’re doing.

“uh-uh, hold up.” larray’s eyes widen as he sets his drink down, giving you that signature side-eye. “what do you mean weird? like… weird weird or just matt-being-a-man weird? ‘cause you know these men don’t know how to act.”

you let out a small, dramatic sigh, playing it off like you don’t want to say too much. “i mean… i don’t know, it’s probably nothing. just heard he’s been kinda distant with macy lately. you didn’t notice?”

“not you trying to soft launch tea and then leaving me hanging,” larray gasps, placing a hand on his chest. “spill, bitch. don’t play with me like that.”

“nooo, it’s not that serious!” you laugh, shaking your head. “just… i saw him the other day and he barely acknowledged her. like, he was all up on his phone the whole time. it was just… weird.”

“not him treating macy like she’s on do not disturb,” larray snorts, rolling his eyes dramatically. “ugh, men are so exhausting. they can’t even pretend to care when they’re in public. disgusting.”

you shrug, acting nonchalant, but you know his perception of matt was changing.

onto madison

one night, when you and madison were grabbing drinks after work, you casually brought up matt’s name again, this time in a more pointed way.

“you know, i think i’ve been seeing something with matt,” you’d say, your voice almost too casual, too innocent. “well, not me personally, but macy has been telling me all these things about how matt’s being all secretive with her and stuff. like recently, that’s been our whole topic of conversation while we’re at work. she tells me he’s on his phone more often and how he’s always so dismissive of her questions when she asks him why he’s been distant lately. i don’t know ‘bout you, but it sounds like to me that he might be seeing someone on the sid

madison frowned, clearly uncomfortable. “seriously? that doesn’t sound like him at all.”

you’d nod, looking concerned. “yeah, i don’t know, but it’s been bugging me. i mean, macy doesn’t deserve that. and maybe he isn’t cheating. but why is he still being weird towards her.”

“yeah no, that’s really fucked up.” madison says, feeling a little sad for macy

“i know i shouldn’t be telling macy’s business like that but it was gnawing at me. and what’s worse is that macy doesn’t even consider that he could possibly be cheating on her. like i don’t know. i just- do you promise not to tell anyone?” you ask, trying your best to sound like you’ve been overcome with guilt.

madison nods, giving you a soft smile. “baby, of course i won’t tell anyone. secrets safe with me. in the end, these could all be rumors and a shit ton of overthinking so i wouldn’t really jump to conclusions but i’d definitely keep it in the back of my mind.”

you nod, returning the smile. “thanks. you’re a really good friend.”

“anytime”

you’d pulled off larray and madison, now all you had left for this round of rumors was quen.

after one evening, when you and quen were hanging out after work, you casually said, “have you noticed something with matt?”

quen raised an eyebrow. “what do you mean?”

“i don’t know, it’s just… i’ve noticed that matt is just… different. but like only with one person.”

her eyebrows furrowed in curiosity as she tilted her head slightly. “who?”

“macy.” you said carefully, like her name was some sort of taboo subject. “it’s weird. he’s like a whole different person when she’s not around. like i feel like he’s more of himself when he’s away from her. when she comes around though, he gets all agitated and annoyed. i might be reading into shit but like… i don’t know.”

quen scoffed, but there was a slight hesitation in her voice. “that sounds like some weird shit, honestly.”

“yeah, i mean, it’s not like macy hasn’t caught on either,” you’d say. “she has! but she’s kinda brushing it off, choosing to ignore it. i just feel like she’s making excuses for him. god i just- i feel bad.”

“well who wouldn’t? like no one should treat their girlfriend like she’s trapping them.”

“yeah no, it’s bad. could you like… not mention this to her. she just- she gets all defensive and mad and she’ll probably realize i told you and i’m not trying to be messy i just needed to get this off my chest and stuff.”

“girl i gotchu. don’t worry.”

“thanks.” you mumble.

now it was time for the even bigger ones. the rumors that would really leave them questioning matt.

you sat beside larray, pretending to scroll through your phone as if what you were about to say was nothing. casual. just another piece of gossip in la.

“okay, so tell me why macy was saying matt’s been so busy with filming and working yesterday’s problem lately,” you murmured, keeping your tone light but just loud enough for larray to catch it.

larray raised an eyebrow, already intrigued. “mmm, okay… and?”

you sighed dramatically, like you didn’t want to be messy but just had to spill. “and… quen told me she saw him at a bar the other night.” you paused for effect, giving larray a pointed look. “like… not the filimg. not working on his project. a bar.”

larray’s eyes widened, lips parting slightly. “bitch, what?!” he blinked, processing the information before shaking his head. “oh no. not this man lying through his motherfucking teeth and playing her in her face.”

“right?” you scoffed, biting your lip to hide the satisfied smirk threatening to form. “i mean, maybe there’s a good explanation, but… doesn’t it seem kinda weird?”

larray leaned back, crossing his arms, and gave you a look. “girl, ain’t no way. if my man told me he was working but was out getting going to bars n shit? he’d be single faster than he could even say single.”

“i knowwww,” you drawled, shaking your head, “but macy doesn’t suspect a thing.”

larray sucked his teeth, already mentally adding this to his list of things to bring up later. “ugh, these men. always something. i swear.”

you nodded, pretending to be concerned, but deep down, you knew this was exactly what you needed.

a few days after your conversation with larray, you decided that you’d get madison again. you and madison found yourselves grabbing drinks again, just like before. but this time? you came prepared even more.

“so… remember what i told you about matt last time?” you started, swirling your straw around in your drink, eyes carefully avoiding madison’s as if you were hesitant to even bring it up.

madison’s expression shifted, her brows furrowing slightly. “yeah… what about it?”

you bit your lip, leaning in a little closer like you were about to spill something big. “okay, so… i wasn’t gonna say anything ‘cause i didn’t wanna let macy’s business out into the open again, but… i’ve got more shit on that situation.”

madison’s eyes widened slightly. “girl, what happened?”

you sighed, feigning reluctance, but you wanted this. “so, macy mentioned something again the other day. she said matt’s been going out more—late nights, no explanation, just saying it’s ‘work stuff.’ but like… get this. when she asked him about it, he got defensive. like, super weird.”

madison’s frown deepened, concern flickering across her face. “defensive? over what though?”

“exactly!” you leaned back, arms crossed as if you were just as confused. “like, why get all worked up if you’ve got nothing to hide? and… i don’t know, macy mentioned she checked his location once and he wasn’t even where he said he’d be. she brushed it off, but…” you trailed off, letting the weight of your words hang between you.

madison’s lips pressed into a thin line. “no… that’s shady as hell. if he’s lying about where he’s at?” she shook her head. “girl, that’s not a good sign.”

“right?” you gave her a look that said you get it. “i mean, maybe it’s nothing… but macy’s too trusting. she doesn’t wanna believe he’d do anything like that. but…” you paused, lowering your voice slightly, “what if he is?”

madison’s jaw tightened, her protective instincts clearly kicking in. “ugh, poor macy. i hate that she’s going through this.”

you nodded, your expression perfectly laced with fake concern. “same. that’s why i told you… i didn’t wanna keep it bottled up. but, you know, i just… i feel bad keeping it all to myself.”

“no, no,” madison said softly, shaking her head. “i’m glad you told me. i’ll… i’ll keep an eye on things.”

after that night, things started falling into place exactly how you wanted.

a week or so later, you and quen were hanging out again, this time lounging at her apartment after a long day. casual vibes, just the two of you unwinding, but your mind? it was working overtime.

you waited until the conversation lulled, until the timing felt just right before you spoke up, your tone light but laced with just enough concern to hook her.

“so… remember what i told you about matt and macy the other day?” you said, fiddling absentmindedly with your phone like it wasn’t that big of a deal.

quen glanced over, her interest piqued immediately. “uh, yeah. why? what’s up?”

you sighed, leaning back against the couch like this was weighing heavy on you. “ugh… i wasn’t gonna say anything else, but i’ve been noticing it *a lot* more now. like, girl… it’s bad.”

quen’s brows furrowed, her attention fully locked in now. “how bad are we talking?”

“like… okay, so macy told me that matt’s been avoiding spending too much time with her lately,” you started, keeping your voice low and almost hesitant, like you were scared of even saying it. “she says he’s been making excuses. work, friends, whatever. but get this…” you paused for dramatic effect, watching quen lean in a little closer. “the other day? she said they were supposed to hang out, but matt bailed last minute, saying he had something with the boys. but… quen…” you bit your lip, looking conflicted.

“what?” quen pressed, her eyes narrowing slightly.

“one of my friends saw him that night. and he wasn’t with nick or chris,” you said, lowering your voice. “he was *with another girl.*”

quen’s jaw dropped, her expression flipping from curiosity to full-blown disbelief. “*bitch, what?!*”

“i know,” you murmured, shaking your head like you hated even saying it. “i didn’t believe it at first either. but then i heard it from *two* people. like… what the fuck is going on?”

quen sat up straighter, her lips pursed in frustration. “nah, that’s wild. and macy doesn’t know?”

“nope,” you said softly, shaking your head. “and i don’t know if i should be the one to tell her. i mean, she’s already brushing off so much. she’d probably just think i’m stirring shit.”

quen’s face hardened, her protective side flaring up. “that’s some *bullshit.* she deserves to know if matt’s acting shady like that.”

“i know,” you sighed, looking down, feigning conflict. “but… i don’t wanna be the one to ruin things, you know? i just… i don’t know what to do.”

quen shook her head, clearly irritated now. “girl, don’t worry. i’ll keep an eye on him. if he’s up to something shady, we’ll know.”

you gave her a small, grateful smile, nodding. “thanks, quen. i just… i needed to tell someone. this whole thing’s been eating at me.”

“don’t worry,” quen said firmly, her tone serious. “if that boy’s up to something, he won’t be able to hide it for long.”

and just like that, the wheels were turning. quen was on high alert now, watching matt like a hawk. you didn’t even have to do anything more—she’d handle the rest.

phase six: complete

phase seven: introduce macy to the matt treatment

phase seven was the hardest part.

everything up until now had been about laying the groundwork, planting little doubts in everyone’s minds. but this? this was about making macy feel something that wasn’t even real.

the thing is, matt was a great boyfriend. he wasn’t distant, he wasn’t sneaky, and he wasn’t out here treating macy the way he treated you. and that was the problem.

because if macy never felt the way you felt—if she never experienced the gut-wrenching, soul-crushing matt treatment—then she’d never leave him.

and that? that wasn’t part of the plan.

so, you had to get creative.

step one: distance. but not from matt—from macy’s side of things.

it started small.

“girl, why don’t you ever come out with us anymore?” quen had asked her one night after work, and you made sure you were just within earshot.

macy had laughed it off. “ugh, i know. matt and i have just been spending so much time together lately.”

“damn, glued to his hip, huh?” quen had joked, but the seed had been planted.

and you? you watered it.

“you know,” you said softly the next day, when it was just you and macy grabbing coffee, “it’s great that you and matt are so close, but… don’t you miss having time for yourself sometimes?”

macy frowned a little but shrugged. “not really. i like being with him.”

“of course,” you smiled, keeping your tone light. “but… i don’t know. sometimes too much time together can make things feel… suffocating, y’know? like, matt’s great, but maybe a little space wouldn’t hurt?”

she didn’t agree. not yet. but that’s the thing about seeds—they take time to grow.

step two: fake tension.

if matt wasn’t going to create the tension, you’d have to do it for him.

“ugh,” macy groaned one afternoon while scrolling through her phone. “matt’s been so stressed with everything lately.”

you leaned in, feigning concern. “what’s wrong?”

“just the usual… filming, editing, meetings… he’s been overwhelmed.”

you nodded, playing your part perfectly. “yeah… that’s a lot. has he been… different with you because of it?”

macy’s face scrunched up a bit, her mind already working through a scenario that didn’t exist.

“different how?”

“i don’t know,” you shrugged, keeping it vague on purpose. “sometimes guys get quiet when they’re stressed. pull away a little. they don’t even realize they’re doing it half the time.”

she didn’t say anything after that. but her silence? that was exactly what you wanted.

step three: paranoia.

this was where things got tricky. you had to be subtle, careful not to overplay your hand.

“hey, have you noticed matt texting more lately?” you asked casually one evening, like it was just a passing thought.

macy blinked, looking up from her drink. “huh?”

“oh, nothing,” you waved it off with a smile. “i just… i don’t know. when we were out the other night, i noticed he was on his phone a lot. but it’s probably nothing.”

but it was never nothing.

because now? macy’s mind was already spiraling.

and it worked.

little by little, macy started to feel the things you had felt.

the distance.

the doubt.

the sinking feeling in her gut that something wasn’t quite right, even though matt was still being the same perfect boyfriend he had always been.

but to macy? it wouldn’t feel that way anymore.

because now?

everything felt off.

phase seven: complete.

phase eight: start encouraging macy to break up with matt

phase eight was all about patience.

you knew macy wasn’t ready to let go just yet. she was still holding on, hoping things would get better with matt—even after all the doubts you’d planted.

but that was fine.

because this wasn’t a sprint. it was a marathon.

so you kept playing your part.

you spent more time with her, slowly becoming her confidant.

hangout one: thursday, july 17th, 12:14 pm

another brunch.

macy looked exhausted, her smile just a little less bright than usual.

“you okay?” you asked, keeping your tone light but concerned.

she gave a small shrug, stirring her coffee absentmindedly. “yeah… just tired, i guess.”

you let it go. didn’t push. just offered a soft smile and changed the subject to something easy.

hangout two: wednesday, july 30th, 11:37 pm

a late-night target run.

the conversation was effortless, jumping from one topic to another.

“ugh, i swear, i’m gonna end up living off frozen pizza and sour candy,” you joked, tossing a bag into the cart.

macy laughed, but her response was softer, almost distracted. “at least you know what you like.”

it was nothing. just a passing comment.

hangout three: friday, august 22nd, 10:43 pm

movie night at her place.

you both sat curled up on the couch, the glow of the tv flickering across the room.

“thanks for coming over,” macy murmured, almost too quietly to catch.

“of course,” you said softly, not making a big deal of it.

she didn’t say anything else.

but the way her shoulders relaxed just a little more as the night went on?

that wasn’t nothing.

but none of it stood out.

no lingering looks. no obvious smiles. no heavy silences.

just… a quiet comfort.

she started replying to your texts a little faster.

her invitations to hang out came a little more frequently.

and maybe—maybe—she seemed a little more at ease when it was just the two of you.

but it was subtle.

so subtle that even you didn’t catch it.

because phase eight wasn’t about that.

phase eight was about planting doubt.

and that?

that was working perfectly.

phase eight: complete

phase nine: watch as matt’s life falls apart completely

and this all brings us back to now.

matthew bernard sturniolo.

god, you couldn’t stand the man. but looking at him now—his life a complete mess—there was nothing sweeter. and the best part?

it was all because of you.

his friends had all turned their backs on him. larray, madison, quen—they didn’t look at him the same anymore. the doubt you’d planted in their minds had festered, grown, and twisted everything they once believed about matt.

larray? couldn’t trust matt after the whole “bar incident.” he’d barely speak to him now. anytime matt tried to reach out, larray would leave him on read or reply with some dry-ass response that made it painfully obvious he wasn’t interested. and when he did talk to him?

“girl, i’m busy. find someone else to lie to.”

madison? she kept her distance. she hadn’t confronted matt directly, but you could tell she was piecing everything together. the seeds of doubt you’d planted had bloomed beautifully, and now she didn’t even look at matt the same.

quen? she was the most direct.

“nah, matt,” she had said the last time he tried talking to her. “i don’t fuck with that weird shit. you’re different.”

and then there was macy.

sweet, sweet macy.

she had been the hardest to break. her love for matt was deep—genuine. it took time to unravel that.

but you did it.

every rumor. every carefully crafted conversation. every doubt you whispered in her ear.

it all led to this moment.

she had finally broken up with him.

you weren’t there to see it, but you could imagine how it went down. the tears in her eyes, her voice breaking as she confronted him.

“i just… i can’t do this anymore, matt.”

and matt?

probably standing there, dumbfounded, begging her to believe that none of it was true.

but it was too late.

you had made sure of that.

now, matt was left standing in the wreckage of his own life.

his friends? gone. his relationship? over. his reputation? in shambles.

and he had no idea who was pulling the strings.

you stood on the sidelines, watching it all crumble, a satisfied smirk tugging at your lips.

all that heartbreak? all that pain?

now, it was his turn to feel it.

and the best part?

he never even saw it coming.

but it wasn’t enough.

watching matt’s life fall apart had been… satisfying. no doubt. but it still didn’t give you the closure you needed. not yet.

because he still didn’t know.

and what fun would it be if he never found out?

no, matt needed to see you—face to face. he needed to look you in the eyes and realize who was behind it all. he needed to feel the weight of everything crashing down around him and know that it was your doing.

you needed that moment.

and as fate would have it, that moment was just around the corner.

macy had left something at matt’s place. she didn’t want to go back for it herself—too painful, too fresh—so, naturally, she asked you to grab it for her.

at first, you weren’t sure if it was a good idea. walking back into his space? after everything? but then, you realized…

this was your chance.

you’d have matt all to yourself. no macy. no friends. just you and him.

so, here you were. standing outside his apartment, heart pounding, pulse racing.

you knocked.

once.

twice.

the door swung open faster than you expected, and there he was.

matthew bernard sturniolo.

and he looked like shit.

dark circles under his eyes, hair a mess, his expression was… tired. broken.

“cherry?” his voice was barely above a whisper, pure disbelief written all over his face.

you felt a sick sort of satisfaction bloom in your chest.

“matthew. it’s been a while. how’ve you been lately?” you asked, an almost sadistic smirk tugging at your lips.

he blinked, eyes wide, like he was seeing a ghost. “i-i… wha-what are you doing here?” his voice was barely above a whisper, shaky and unsure.

you tilted your head, feigning innocence. “you really haven’t figured that out yet?” your hand rested on your hip, your tone dripping with impatience. all this hard work, months of planning, and the boy didn’t even have a damn clue. how rude.

but what was even more insulting? the way this idiot had the nerve to shake his head. “n-no.”

wow.

“ugh, you’re as stupid as ever,” you scoffed, shaking your head in disbelief. “it was me, goddamn it. i did it. i’m the reason your sad, pathetic life is crumbling to pieces.”

the color drained from his face, eyes widening—not with confusion this time, but pure, unfiltered terror.

“why… why would you do something like that?” he asked, his voice barely holding together.

you rolled your eyes, a bitter laugh slipping out. “god, are you stupid?” your tone dripped with disdain. “you really don’t remember?”

his silence was answer enough.

“jesus christ, matt,” you muttered, crossing your arms. “four years. four fucking years, and you can’t even remember the shit you put me through?”

his lips parted, but no words came out.

“let me refresh your memory then.” you stepped closer, just enough to watch the panic build behind his eyes. “remember high school? how we did everything like a couple but you never wanted to put a label on it? all that ‘i’m not ready for a relationship yet’ bullshit? and me? i was so fucking stupid, i waited. i waited for you.”

matt’s jaw clenched, but he didn’t speak.

“but it didn’t stop there, did it?” you went on, voice dripping with venom. “no, you kept feeding me lies. you’re the only one who gets me, baby. one day, i’m gonna marry you, you know that?” you scoffed, eyes narrowing. “and like an idiot, i believed it. i believed you.”

his breathing was heavier now, chest rising and falling a little too quickly.

“then you left,” you hissed, your tone colder now. “moved to la. promised we’d make it work, that we’d talk every day, visit whenever we could.” you let out a bitter laugh. “but those calls? they got shorter. the texts? less frequent. until, eventually…” you paused, your gaze hardening as you locked eyes with him.

“you ghosted me.”

his face paled even more, if that was even possible.

“left me wondering what the fuck i did wrong. wondering why i wasn’t enough for you,” your voice cracked, but you swallowed the emotion down, refusing to let him see you break. “and just when i finally started to accept that maybe you weren’t coming back…” you tilted your head, a cruel smile tugging at the corners of your lips.

“i saw the pictures.”

matt’s breath caught in his throat.

“you. at that party. all over her.” the venom in your voice was impossible to miss. “while i was sitting at home, waiting for a text you were never going to send.”

matt opened his mouth, but you didn’t give him the chance.

“and that’s when i realized,” you said, leaning in just enough for your words to cut deeper. “i was never going to be enough for you. but that’s okay. because now?”

you smiled sweetly, though your eyes were anything but kind.

“you’re the one who’s left with nothing.”

you stood there, staring at him for a few seconds, letting the weight of your words sink in. you could see the way he was struggling to process it, the panic mixed with guilt. but it wasn’t your problem anymore. you had done what you came for, and that was all that mattered.

you let out a deep breath, shaking your head in disbelief.

“god, matt,” you muttered, the contempt thick in your voice. “you really are the worst.”

you turned your back on him, hearing him call your name weakly, but you didn’t stop.

"you're nothing but a liar and a coward," you threw over your shoulder. "so enjoy the mess you made. you deserve every bit of it."

without looking back, you walked towards your car, your heart pounding, but not from anger—no, from a strange kind of satisfaction. for the first time in years, it felt like everything was finally in place. like all the puzzle pieces had clicked together, and you had everything you needed.

you slid into the driver's seat, slamming the door shut. you could still hear him shouting your name, but it didn’t matter anymore. his voice was nothing now.

you put the car in drive, the engine rumbling to life, and slowly pulled away from the curb.

as you made your way home, your mind wandered back to macy.

phase ten

you couldn’t help but smile, the anticipation building. it had been a slow burn, but now, things had shifted in ways you hadn’t even expected. what started as a plan to destroy matt had turned into something much more unexpected. you had gotten under his skin—and now, macy’s too.

the thought of macy, her soft lips against yours, the way she started leaning into you more and more, her touch lingering a little longer than it should’ve—none of it had been planned. but here you were, with a beautiful, broken mess of a boyfriend’s ex, and she was yours now.

you smiled to yourself as you sped down the road, your thoughts consuming you.

phase ten: ravish your new girlfriend's body completely.

and just like that, the plan was over. the game had changed. you didn’t need revenge anymore—you had her.

dividers: @bernardsbendystraws

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frownyalfred · 1 day ago

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The fortress completely overlooking how culturally fucked up that is by human non-ai standards and just. Noncon edges Bruce for days while sending kal on a goose chase is crazy. esp maybe if like. The fortress convinced kal that Bruce was in danger in some way and that that’s why he’s missing but it’s actually just a huge ploy to amplify just how desperate they are for each other (the person you love and yearn for being missing and the pure relief of being able to hold them again after days of constant worry, etc) so the point when kal finally figures out what the fuck is going on he makes the fortress let him into Bruce and the second he touches Bruce to hug him poor Bruce completely falls apart 😭 and the fortress is prattling about all the super cool changes it made to prepare Bruce for very important kryptonian breeding and it’s the most tormented and overwhelmed kal has ever seen Bruce in his entire life. He’s never been this angry at the fortress before but also is starting to understand why this happened after the fortress explains because ?? Why wouldn’t this be a good thing ? Bruce and kal el at compatible emotionally and sexually, they just needed reproductive help!!! And that was so easy to the fortress to fix! So what if the human was a little sad about it, it’s for a greater purpose. And Bruce just. Does not want to be in the fortress after this so kal has to fly him away from it while all Bruce can do is sit in his arms and shake and tell himself he’s not crying even though he definitely is and he never thought he’d need to be protected from kal’ down fortress in this way

Exactly!!! Exactly. That’s perfect, right here. I could read 50k of this seriously. The Fortress thinking it did the right thing, Bruce so angry and hurt and yet so relieved Clark found him, Clark in total shock but growing angry — and then what? Clark can’t touch Bruce without both of them losing it. Is this really what it envisioned? What about Lois? What about the Fortress who used Clark’s face and voice for days and brought comfort to Bruce (maybe it was specifically profaned to be the “good cop” versus the more mechanical parts of the Fortress) and tapped into an infatuation Bruce had kept hidden? Aghhh.

#idk how to tag this #tw body horror #tw body modification #tw dubious consent #batman #bruce wayne #dc #asks #anon #fic ideas #clark kent #superman #superbat #fortress ai #fortress of solitude #a/b/o mention #a/b/o tw #mpreg mention #mpreg tw

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bianotbia · 2 days ago

Text

— 𝐁𝐈𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐒𝐖𝐄𝐄𝐓 𝐒𝐏𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆 [ 𝐲𝐨𝐨𝐧 𝐣𝐞𝐨𝐧𝐠𝐡𝐚𝐧 ]

main masterlist

˗ˏˋ you promised yourself to never fall for jeonghan, but when new feelings bloom inside you have to make a very painful decision ˎˊ˗

⤷ a/n : this was actually the first ever fanfic I wrote and, after I lost my previous account, I swore to myself I would try to rewrite it. even though I spent months in it and used a little bit of help from chat gpt to help me rewrite some parts, I couldn't be happier with how it turned out ^_^

⤷ contains : office crush!jeonghan x gn!reader, office au, hanahaki disease, full angst because I'm sad, mentions of blood and bruises [ wc : 2.6k ]

⤷ now playing : daisy by pentagon

Spring arrived in a hush of pink petals, drifting weightlessly through the air before settling on the pavement like forgotten confessions. A warm breeze carried the scent of earth and blossoms, yet all I could focus on was Jeonghan—his head tilted back, eyes half-lidded as if caught between daydreams and reality.

“Jeonghan,” I nudged him lightly, pretending not to notice the way my chest tightened at his absentminded smile. “Did you read the report I sent you this morning?”

He turned to me, lips curling at the corners in that easy, unshaken way of his. “I will,” he promised. “After lunch.” And just like that, I let myself believe, if only for this fleeting moment, that we existed in a world where he would look at me the same way he looked at the cherry blossoms—like something worth pausing for.

Half an hour later, we made our way back to the office after the lunch break ended, walking alongside the blooming cherry blossoms that painted the path towards it. He nudged closer with a spark in his eyes, as if he just came up with a brilliant idea. “Why don't we go out for some drinks tonight? We can celebrate spring and you can take your head off work for a bit.”

The pounding inside my chest echoed in my ears after hearing those words, feeling a flush painting my face almost the same color as the pink rain falling around us. It wasn't unusual for us to meet each other for drinks after work. Sometimes our other colleagues at the office would come along and other times we would go on by ourselves, but lately he hadn't been going out much.

I slightly nodded my head, trying to brush away the sharp pain that stung my heart as I wished I had never met Jeonghan, just so that the heartbreak of knowing he would never return my feelings for him wouldn’t make me slowly wither every day.

A dark shade of blue covered the sky, gracing it with stars invisible to our eyes blinded by the city lights. The scent of alcohol took over the streets along with the sound of slurred voices laughing over nothing. Already on our third glass, the conversation barely consisted of meaningless giggles and words that surely would get lost into the night.

“What’s your favorite flower?” He asked, a confused frown settled in my face which made him laugh at my reaction. “C’mon…it’s spring! Get in the vibes.” His body felt warmer—closer than it had ever been—as if one faint touch could send me on a maddening spiral of passion.

“Cherry blossoms…I think.” He hummed, a low sound that traveled through my body and made it even more limp thanks to the empty glasses spread around our table.

“What about you, Han?” I gazed at him, searching for the slightest slip of any hidden emotion that might only show when someone is drunk. He giggled and downed the remains of his beer, and from that moment on the only thing I could remember on the following day was the one word that came from his teasing smile.

“Daisies.”

The weekend faded into a grayish and gloomy monday morning, as if an incoming storm was getting closer at each second. Flashes of last friday night still swirled inside my mind and his laugh still echoed in my heart along with a conversation that seemed to go on all night long. There wasn't anything not to love about him—pretty face, smart comebacks, mischievous smile—how could I not fall in love?

Yet something always tightened inside my chest whenever he was around, something that drowned out any kind of words that conceived how much I liked him, how much I longed to have him close to me.

“Hey, did you see it?” I heard as soon as I arrived at my desk, mindlessly turning to my grinning colleague, Yena, who leaned over her own desk, “Mr. Yoon brought flowers to Haerin today.” She tried to cover a growing smile that quickly turned into a pout “They are so cute together! Oh, now I want a boyfriend to give me flowers too.”

“Boyfriend?” That word played over and over in my mind as I still tried to process everything she just said.

“Yeah! Apparently they just started going out in the past few weeks.” For a second, sitting in that cold office, all of the air inside my lungs seemed to vanish.

“Wh–what flowers did he give her?” I couldn’t keep my voice non-chalant, but she didn't notice anyway, just humming to herself while trying to remember what she saw.

“I think they were pink” cheerfully nodding her head, “Uh-hum, I'm pretty sure they were cherry blossoms.”

In the corner of my eyes I saw a shadow approaching us, Yena glanced up with a sparkling smile, one I tried to imitate as I realized who came over.

“Hi Mr. Yoon! We were just talking about you and Haerin. We're so happy for both of you!” He gave her a polite smirk, but quickly turned to me with a worried look. “Are you feeling alright? You seem quite pale.”

Any words I had to say to him got caught on the back of my throat. I felt my head nodding and could only hope that the tears pooling in my eyes wouldn't cross my cheeks in front of him.

That evening, my apartment was eerily quiet, the air cold and the room dimly lit. The only sounds were the relentless storm that had been pouring since lunchtime and the steady rush of water filling my bathtub. As I sank into its warmth, the sensation faintly reminded me of the rain dripping over my coat as I waited for Jeonghan at our usual meeting spot in front of the building. Only, this time, he didn’t show up.

As I neared the restaurant we often went to, my eyes caught a glimpse of him and Haerin. They laughed together, his usually sleepy eyes shining with a liveliness I had never seen before. I kept walking, eventually settling on another place to eat. Yet, even as the rain soaked through my clothes, the thing that bothered me most wasn’t the cold creeping into my bones—it was a strange itch at the back of my throat.

I heated up some soup after the bath, hoping to fend off this possible spring fever. But the itch remained, growing worse at every second and every cough that came out of me. Finally, something emerged from my mouth—a single daisy petal resting on my lips. It felt like a cruel joke while I forced myself to finish my meal.

Later, as I lay in bed and my thoughts slowly drifted away to dreamland, I could only cling to one desperate hope—that by morning, the delicate white petal would have disappeared, as if it had never been there—just like a bittersweet memory.

Unfortunately, the flower was still sitting at my nightstand as I woke up, alongside the annoying scratch that came from within my throat. I hurried to get dressed trying to ignore the suffocating sensation that made me feel even more ill while riding the crowded train, its constant rhythmic movement barely matching my ragged breaths.

The bitter feeling faded by the time I walked into the building, leaving just that unbearable sensation of something lodged in my throat. An itch I couldn’t scratch. A weight I needed to expel, as if letting it go was the only way to keep moving forward.

I ran into Haerin as I arrived at the office. The concern in her eyes told me I must have looked as awful as I felt. Time dragged mercilessly, stretching an hour into what felt like days. Had I already gone to lunch? Caught the train? Made it home? Or was I still lost, wandering through the remnants of a forgotten memory?

Then, once again, that suffocating feeling clawed its way up from my lungs to my throat—the desperate urge to rid myself of whatever was trapped inside. Not wanting to draw attention or fuel office gossip, I bolted to the restroom on the other floor.

Alone at last, my lungs felt like they were being filled with a hundred thorns, my throat suddenly surrounded by weeds that choked every airway. The coughing worsened and didn’t stop—not until flowers slipped through my fingers just as the tears that dripped from my eyes. The amount of them could probably make the decoration of a small wedding–their wedding.

By the end of that painful episode I was sitting on the cold tiled floor surrounded by white petals, a tear stained face and a bouquet full of daisies hanging on my shaky hands.

Everyday I saw Jeonghan mildly flirting with Haerin at the office, everyday I feigned a smile, and everyday I got home and felt flowers and more flowers coming from inside me. However, something started to worry me more than having to clean the white petals off my bathroom—was that daisies weren’t thorny flowers—yet as blood stained my hands and pain settled in the back of my throat, I knew this wasn’t some uncanny spring fever I could just brush off.

I couldn’t keep living like this—pretending that nothing had changed. I couldn’t keep going out with everyone after work and seeing both of them laugh at an inside joke they shared with each other, knowing that I wasn’t the one he looked at with such loving eyes.

The rain had poured relentlessly all day, a dull gray sky stretching endlessly above. That evening, Jeonghan invited me out for some drinks, just like old times, insisting I had been too distant lately. I only hoped the dim bar lights would be enough to hide the exhaustion in my eyes and the bruises in my lips.

“It’s been so long since we’ve gone out together. Feels like we’re not even friends anymore,” he said, nudging me playfully. I forced out a tired laugh, but it faded almost as soon as it escaped my lips.

“There’s something I need to tell you, Han.” My voice wavered as I met his gaze.

He frowned slightly. “That sounds serious—are you okay? You don’t look like yourself these past few weeks.”

A deep sigh left me as I looked away, the weight of everything I had been carrying pressing down on me. “I’m leaving the company. I found… something better. The people are nice, and the pay is good too.”

His face froze. He blinked once—twice—before finally speaking. “Oh…well…why are you saying it as if it’s something bad? You should be happy about it, right? Let's drink up to that.” We clinked our glasses while his gaze still lingered on me, a fading laughter from a night far away still echoed in the night.

As we got out of the bar the rain hadn't stopped and a sudden wave of longing rushed right through me. “There's…something else I wanted to say to you.”

He raised an eyebrow, a flicker of curiosity in his eyes. But I couldn’t speak. The words were caught in my throat, tangled in the thorns tightening around it, suffocating any attempt to express what I truly felt.

“Actually, never mind. It wasn’t that important.” He chuckled softly, the sound light and effortless, and we continued walking along the pink-strewn path of fallen cherry blossoms.

The next few days passed in a blur, an empty void where time moved, but I remained still. I saw them together at the office—smiling, happy—and let all my unsaid words spill out only when I was alone at home. As my last days at work dwindled, I barely managed to say proper goodbyes to my colleagues, promising to keep in touch with everyone, even Jeonghan—but deep down, I knew that was a lie I couldn’t keep telling myself.

The moment my final paycheck hit my account, I made the call. A hospital I found online—one that specialized in Hanahaki disease. They told me the procedure to remove the flowers from my lungs was costly and could have irreversible effects on my mind. But after everything that I went through, it didn’t feel like the worst idea.

As a single tear traced down my cheek while I entered the surgery room, the doctor assured me it was a simple procedure. That when I woke up the next morning, everything would feel just the same. Everything—except for one thing. He would be gone. Every memory, every moment we had shared—erased as if they had never existed at all, like a forgotten dream.

As the voices in the room faded into the background and the bright lights dissolved into darkness, the last thing I heard was Jeonghan’s laughter—followed by a sharp, piercing white noise.

When I opened my eyes, sunlight streamed through the window, casting a warm glow across the room. I took a deep breath, and for the first time in what felt like forever, the weight on my chest was gone. My lungs, once suffocated, now welcomed the air freely—light, empty, and unburdened.

Slightly sore from the surgery, I listened to the soft sounds coming through the window. Outside, summer was in its final stretch, clinging to its last few scorching days before making way for autumn. The pink trees swayed gently in the warm breeze, like a distant, faded memory fluttering somewhere in the depths of my heart.

As I looked to the side, something caught my eye—a vase of white daisies. A small note from the doctor rested beside it: “As much as it might hurt to see them, these were too beautiful to throw away.”

Something deep inside me stirred. I knew what he meant by it. And yet, no matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t quite grasp who I was trying to remember. Only the distant echo of a familiar voice lingered—faint, unreachable, already slipping away.

Summer’s final days passed in a golden haze as I settled into my new job, adjusting to the unfamiliar faces and surroundings. This weekend, I had plans to meet up with Yena, just a casual get-together, a chance to catch up on all the latest gossip.

I stepped out of the chocolate shop, a small bag of gifts in hand, when I accidentally bumped into a young man. He took a long look at me before his face lit up with a bright smile. “Oh my god, how long has it been? It feels like ages! How have you been?”

For a brief moment, I furrowed my brows in confusion. “I’m sorry, sir, but I think you have the wrong person.”

He chuckled at my puzzled expression, reaching slightly for my hand, but I instinctively pulled away. “What are you talking about? It hasn’t even been that long... It’s me, Jeonghan.” His once cheerful expression wavered, slowly shifting into something more uncertain, almost desperate.

There was something in his eyes, something pleading, as if silently begging me to remember. But I had nothing else to say to him.

“Sorry, I really don’t think I’m who you’re looking for,” I said, my voice polite but distant. “I should get going. I hope you find them again. Have a great day.” With a quick bow, I muttered another apology and walked away, leaving the stranger standing there.

Jeonghan remained frozen in place, his breath hitching as he watched me disappear down the tree-lined path. His vision blurred, the world around him smearing into shades of green and pink as tears welled in his eyes. A tightness coiled around his throat, sharp and suffocating. And then, finally, he felt it—a strange itch clawing its way up from deep inside him. Coughing lightly, he reached up, and from his lips, he pulled a single delicate petal.

A sakura blossom. Resting on his trembling palm.

#seventeen #seventeen imagines #seventeen x reader #yoon jeonghan #jeonghan imagines #jeonghan fanfic #jeonghan x reader #jeonghan x you #jeonghan x y/n

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nerdgirlbutinpink · 10 hours ago

Note

just putting it out there but what if joaquin torres and busy woman. not sure if its a perfect match but maybe an au?

wait i actually love this!!

i offer you this, please let me know if you want a part 2 and i’ll write it *insert mischievous fly rubbing hangs together*

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ 𝐁𝐔𝐒𝐘 𝐖𝐎𝐌𝐀𝐍 | ��𝗼𝗮𝗾𝘂𝗶𝗻 𝘁𝗼𝗿𝗿𝗲𝘀 𝘅 𝗚𝗡!𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗱𝗲𝗿

𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀: cursing, fighting, angst, and angry y/n! and joaquin! not a warning but the song is titled busy woman but i tried my best to make this a gn!reader

𝗹𝗶𝘀𝘁𝗲𝗻 𝘁𝗼 𝗯𝘂𝘀𝘆 𝘄𝗼𝗺𝗮𝗻 𝗯𝘆 𝘀𝗮𝗯𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗮 𝗰𝗮𝗿𝗽𝗲𝗻𝘁𝗲𝗿!

˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆

“you know, if you weren’t so busy, we’d probably be having a great time right now.”

you roll your eyes, shoving your feet into your shoes as you balance your phone between your shoulder and ear. another meeting, another last-minute change of plans. you barely have time to glance at him before you press a quick kiss to his cheek.

“i know, i know. rain check?”

he just hums, watching you rush out the door like you always do. and you know it’s not fair.

it’s not like you don’t want to see him. of course you do. but between work, the endless responsibilities, the constant feeling that if you stop moving everything will fall apart—you just keep pushing him to the side, promising yourself you’ll make it up to him later.

but later keeps getting further away.

missed calls stack up. texts go unanswered for hours. plans get made, then rescheduled, then canceled. and through it all, joaquin stays. he stays with that half-amused, half-exasperated expression, hands in his pockets, waiting.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

until one night, he calls instead of texting.

“do you even wanna see me, or am i just here when you have a free second?”

his voice isn’t sharp, isn’t angry. it’s worse than that—it’s tired. worn down. like he already knows the answer but is asking anyway, just to hear you say it.

you shut your laptop, pressing your fingers to your temple. exhaustion seeps into your bones, but it’s not just from work anymore. it’s from this. from knowing you’re hurting him, knowing you don’t mean to, and knowing that doesn’t make it any better.

“joaquin, you know i do. i just—there’s so much going on.”

a pause. silence stretches between you, thick and heavy, before he exhales a quiet, bitter chuckle. the kind that isn’t really a laugh at all.

“yeah, baby, i know. you’re a busy woman.”

you squeeze your eyes shut, hating the way his words sink into your chest like a weight you can’t shake. because he’s busy too. he’s not just joaquin, the guy who leans against your doorframe with that teasing smirk. he’s the falcon. a superhero. he’s out there saving people, putting his life on the line, yet somehow—somehow—he still makes time for you.

and what do you do? you cancel plans. you leave his texts on read. you tell him next time like that’s a promise instead of another excuse.

he should be the one too busy for you. but he isn’t. he never is.

“joaquin, i—” your voice cracks, and you hate that you don’t even know what you’re about to say.

but what excuse could possibly be enough? what words could make up for the nights he’s spent wondering if he’s just another thing on your to-do list, something to be checked off when it’s convenient?

so when he sighs, low and tired, and says, “get some sleep, alright?” you don’t try to stop him from hanging up.

and when you’re left alone in the quiet, the weight of it all finally sinks in.

maybe the problem isn’t that you’re busy. maybe the problem is that, eventually, he’s going to stop waiting. and if you don’t figure this out soon, you’re going to turn around and realize he’s already gone.

˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆

a/n: i tried to write this as the best i could, hope you like it >u<

#fanfic #joaquin torres #joaquin torres x reader #joaquin torres x you #captain america brave new world #captain america #falcon #the winter soldier #falcon and the winter soldier #mcu fandom #marvel mcu #mcu #mcu falcon #mcu fanfiction #danny ramirez #danny ramirez x reader #nerd girl but in pink writes

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didyoulookforme · 17 hours ago

Text

think i'll stay

you come back from holiday and things between you and matty are a bit different.

warning: some angst (with kind of a happy ending). teenagers dating. grammatical errors, typos.

part of the bf matty au. masterlist here.

-----

the summer you leave feels a whole lot longer than only three weeks.

sure, it is just time away with family, which you enjoy for the most part. you spend hours on the beach, slathered in sunscreen so you can actually sleep at night. you eat way too much ice cream before it melts all over your legs. you even read the paperback you brought from home. but you always end up getting distracted by your phone, sending matty text after text, telling him every single possible thing that has happened since you left. you send him an endless collection of blurry ocean photos and a few of yourself, making sure to show enough of your bathing suit but not so much that it is considered indecent.

it is hard not to count down the days until you are back. you miss him. and perhaps the reason why you text him so much is that he’s not been as responsive lately. your phone usually pings within minutes of hitting “send,” but now there are occasions when he does not answer until the following day. and even then, some of the replies are short and not his usual monologues that barely make sense until you read them out loud for the tenth time. you tell yourself you are overreacting. after all, it is summer. he is probably just busy with the boys, holed up in the garage writing who-knows-how-many songs until either they pass out from exhaustion or from drinking too much.

yes, it is summer. you try to convince yourself it is only that.

—

then the day finally comes. you make it back home on a thursday evening, dashing and tripping up the stairs so you can immediately drop off your bags of dirty laundry, because dealing with that is a future-you problem. present-day you needs to see matty. like, right this second, so you dash out the door. you do not bother texting, do not even think about calling. you are just hoping, praying, he is home. after four or five minutes of sprinting as fast as your legs can move, lungs burning and heart pounding, you finally reach his doorstep and knock, trying to gulp in enough oxygen to replenish your bloodstream.

please be home, please be home, please be home…

you hear those familiar footsteps on the other side, and when the door swings open, you practically trample him, arms shooting out to wrap around his neck before he even gets a chance to say hello.

“easy there.” matty laughs, a little off balance as you cling to him. “missed you too, loser.”

you pull back just enough to shove him lightly in retaliation. “do not call me that. i ran all the way here just to see your stupid face.” but you cannot stop grinning, leaning forward to embrace him once again because he is finally here. right in front of you. he smells like shampoo and cigarettes and you would be lying if you said it is not the best thing you have smelled in weeks. then you remember why you are so excited to come see him.

you quickly let go once more, rummaging through the crumpled receipts and loose lipsticks in your bag until you find a small box wrapped with entirely too much tape. “here, got you something.” and you basically shove the present in his hands, stepping back again so you can watch him open it because you know he will love it.

but that is when you notice it. the orange-reddish color adorning his fingernails. the perfect contrast against the blue paper you used to decorate the tiny gift. the polish is on way too neatly for him to have done it himself. and you do not even own that shade, so it could’ve never been you. plus you were gone for most of the month. you gaze from his nails to his face and down to his hands again. perhaps it was his mum. even a cousin. or maybe—

“um… i have something to tell you.”

and it is then you know exactly why he has not been replying to your texts at 3 a.m. anymore.

turns out he met a girl while you were away. emily. he took her out on a date, and apparently now they are… something. a couple, maybe. he does not use official terms, but from the way he is talking and smiling when he brings her up, you sense it is serious enough.

all you can do is stare at his fingers because your heart is jackhammering in your chest and not from running this time. it is you who started painting his nails. that one day he met you at the park after he finished rehearsal. you were applying the second coat of your own when he arrived and you annoyed him enough to let you paint his for the first time. and you’ve done it ever since. it is your thing and you love it. until now.

his voice brings you back from inside your thoughts. “she’s here, actually. upstairs. we’re just hanging out, listening to some demos.” he nods toward the staircase. “want to come up? she’s super excited to meet you. i’ve told her all about you.” he rubs the back of his neck. “i mean, if you want.”

you realize you are already stepping back, your feet instinctively carrying you toward the doorway. “i, uh… it is okay. ’s late, and i have not even unpacked. i just wanted to drop… this off.” you gesture lamely at the rectangle in his hands. “i should probably, y’know, go shower. and clean my room. and stuff.”

matty’s face falls just slightly, but he tries to mask it with an awkward nod. “right. yeah, that makes sense. you literally just got back. we can, like… talk later. right?”

“later. yeah.” you force a smile that feels all sorts of wrong on your lips. “text me, okay?”

“i will.”

“alright, so…” you glance around half-hoping you will think of some brilliant excuse to stay. but your mind has gone blank. “i’ll talk to you later, matty.”

“later,” he echoes.

then you turn and practically jog down his driveway, gripping the strap of your bag so hard your fingers turn white and ache. your head buzzes with a million thoughts, most of them revolving around how stupid you feel. you missed him so much. but apparently he didn’t miss you as much as you’d hoped.

you eventually do make it home with not one single bone in your body having the intention to clean. instead, you slam your door shut and flop face down on the bed. you can still smell the ocean in your hair. it lingers on your shirt, in the faint saltiness of your skin. it reminds you of the necklace you bought him at the beach stand. nothing fancy really, just a circular white pendant on a strip of dark brown suede. something you picked up on a whim because it instantly reminded you of one he loved during a day trip to london. and it is probably now sitting unopened on his bedside table as he does god-knows-what with his girlfriend.

but to be fair, he texts like he said he would.

hey. thanks for the gift. it’s amazing. i’m wearing it rn. i missed you xx

and for a few hours, it is almost the same as it used to be. banter, memes, him complaining about the heat in george’s garage. but the days that follow? not so much. sometimes he replies. sometimes a day or two passes before you see a new message pop up. and it stings every single time, way more than you would like to admit. you are happy for him, right? he deserves to be happy. it is just that the “happy” you imagined was always the two of you, side by side, best friends and all. you’d hoped to spend most of the summer nights hanging out until the early hours of the morning, listening to him ramble on about music he’d just downloaded.

now often when you go to see the boys at rehearsal, he does not show up until later, with emily of course. she sits on the amp that used to be your spot. the one beside matty, covered with stickers you placed there yourself. she laughs at his dumb jokes, hugs him when he takes a break, and you cannot bring yourself to be mad at her because she is perfectly nice. that is the cruelest part: emily is wonderful. she is funny, caring, bright, and she likes you. or at least says she does. so there is really no reason for you to hate her, other than stealing your friend...

you are actually glad when school starts back up. it means you are able to keep your mind busy with homework and studying, and as lame as it sounds, you welcome it. matty is still in some of your classes, and if it is just the two of you, things feel mostly the same. all until she comes around again. not that he behaves differently. he is still matty. yes, you speak less and do not hang out as much, but he is still the sweet, shy, sassy boy who makes you laugh until you sob. but now it is not just you. there is someone else he also makes laugh until she cries, only she is able to run her fingers through his hair and hug him as she pleases. and well, you just cannot.

weeks go by and you begin to enjoy her company even if you weren’t seeking it. you guess in the end you’d rather have her around than not have matty at all. most of the time it is harmless. having lunch or hanging out at someone’s house. but it is always when they leave together that it hurts the most because it means you won’t hear from him for a while. you’ve kept it hidden, how sad it still makes you. don’t tell anyone. not until one evening when ross catches you wiping your eyes after their rehearsal.

“you okay?”

you just shrug your shoulders and slightly nod. but you don’t even realize more tears are falling down your cheeks until he pulls you in for a hug, letting you bury your face in his shirt as he keeps you close and rubs slow circles on your back.

that night he’s the one who stays over just as matty would, keeping you company until you doze off and hope you can stay asleep until it doesn’t hurt anymore.

—

the buzzing beside your head wakes you up.

hey can u meet at the park?

it’s 8:14 a.m. and last you checked, matty doesn’t do mornings. at least not on saturdays.

a little too early for you to be alive you okay?

he replies immediately. probably the fastest he’s texted you back in months.

please

and that’s all it takes. you drag yourself out of bed, throw on last night’s clothes, and leave the house with your keys in one hand, your phone in the other.

k. be there in 20.

somewhere between dodging morning joggers and yawning yourself awake, you realize you never even glanced at the mirror. you catch your reflection in a parked car’s window, mascara smudged in a dark crescent under each eye. great. you lick your thumb, scrub at the mess until it’s mostly gone. close enough. and you keep going, legs on autopilot as you head for the same picnic bench where you and matty have wasted countless afternoons, paint peeling from its surface and made only worse by his habit of chipping at it while you talk his ear off. something tells you that won’t be the case this morning, though.

you spot matty from a distance, perched on top of the table, feet planted on the bench seat. his hood is up and you know for a fact he’s staring down as his converse tap on the wooden slats. he only looks up the moment your shadow stretches across the lawn.

his face. he’s exhausted. a weight in his eyes you’ve never seen before. it makes your blood run cold because you cannot think of a single day in the past couple of years when you’ve actually seen him sad. you didn’t think it was possible. but guess you were wrong.

you step up onto the bench and settle beside him, close enough that your sides touch. he doesn’t move away. if anything, you swear he leans in just a little. he finally tugs out his headphones and turns around to glance at you. and all you can do is bite your lip because, what do you even say here? is something up with the band? did you do something?

neither of you says a word. the hush is almost claustrophobic, so many questions piling in your mind but refusing to come out.

“i broke up with her yesterday,” his voice is so quiet, “feel like a total dick, to be honest.”

oh.

“i… are you okay?” the swirl of emotions starts to make you lightheaded. sympathy, confusion, relief that’s so shameful you bury it quickly. your teeth are still sunk into your lip, only noticing because his eyes flick down to your mouth for a fraction of a second before dropping to his hands, where he begins tugging at the edges of his fingers.

“i dunno. it stopped feeling right. she’s great, you know? she’s cool, funny, very pretty—” he stops to glance at you with a nervous twitch on his mouth. “sorry. i know that’s weird to say.”

you shake your head. “no, it’s okay. i get it.”

he doesn’t speak for a few seconds, maybe searching for the right words until he seems to give up. he says he knows it sounds dumb, but he misses his friends, giving you a sad, apologetic look meaning he missed you. he confesses it was fun at first, he really liked her a lot, but one day, kissing her didn’t feel the same. and when she wanted to have sex again, he didn’t want to anymore. your eyebrows shoot up. he’s never outright said he wasn’t a virgin anymore. part of you suspected it (he’s matty, after all) but hearing it confirmed still surprises you. he notices your look and points, half-heartedly rolling his eyes as if to say, don’t even start, so you raise your hands in surrender. you can ask questions later. right now, he needs to talk, and for once, it’s him spilling all his tangled feelings while you just listen.

he exhales heavily. the words keep coming as though he’s been desperate for someone to just listen. he goes off about how guilty he feels, how he worries she’s going to hate him, how maybe he should’ve tried harder. this might be the longest he’s ever talked uninterrupted and it honestly warms you from the inside out. perhaps not the best circumstances, but you can’t ignore the way your heart beats a little faster, knowing you’re here for him in a way you haven’t been in a while. and by the time he’s done, you can’t figure out what to say. he gives you this tight-lipped, exhausted smile that you mirror on instinct, then drops his head down again, picking at his fingernails, slowly continuing to tear them to shreds.

your voice seems to be trapped somewhere in your throat, so all you can do is wrap your arm around his shoulders and hold his hand with the other so he doesn’t make himself bleed. he’s warm and smells faintly of the same shampoo and cigarettes. the kind of comfort you’ve been missing since last summer and something in your chest squeezes painfully at the familiarity of it. you lean in close enough to rest your chin on his shoulder, your forehead against his temple just as he intertwines his fingers with yours and holds them impossibly tight.

“it’s okay, matty.”

he closes his eyes, leaning into your touch. “promise?”

“of course.”

he lets out a shaky breath and slowly melts into you, the tension in his shoulders loosening as the minutes pass. another wave of guilt rushes through you at how good it feels to be this close to him again. you glance down at his hand in yours, noticing how his thumb rubs tiny circles against your skin, sending little jolts of warmth through your veins. a sign you might need to put some space between you before you do something you regret. so slowly you pull away to find your bag, searching through its contents until you find a tiny bottle which you shake in front of his face. you settle down on the bench and gesture for him to place his hand on the table in front of you.

he lifts an eyebrow but does as you ask. “it’s not black?”

“not this time,” you twist open the bottle, “figured we could try something new.”

he responds with a grunt but there’s a ghost of a smile on his lips. so you begin painting, gliding the tiny brush carefully across each nail. you concentrate on smoothing the colour in even stripes, wiping stray bits with your thumb, letting the mundane act of painting nails distract you from the swirl of emotions happening inside you.

“so,” you begin quietly, still focused on the polish, “what’s that new song you’re working on? ross said it’s coming along okay?”

“yeah, guess so.” out of the corner of your eye, you notice his other hand starting to tap on his knee, probably drumming along to the beat of that same track. “though george is being an idiot and won’t listen about this one fill… even though he knows ’m right. stupid prick.” this time you bite your lip to hold back your laugh.

“g being stubborn? shocker.”

you listen as he tells you not only about this demo, but several others they’ve been working on, diving into so much detail that honestly goes over your head. but you don’t mind if it gets him distracted. you just try to pretend you know what you’re talking about by responding with half-baked music terms you think you’ve heard him say before.

“there. that one’s good to go.” you pull back to admire your handiwork before looking at him. he brings his fingers close to his face to inspect them, and now you actually laugh as he starts to gently blow on them, just as you’d taught him a year or so ago: remember when you were little and had a super nintendo and the cartridges wouldn’t play so you would blow on them? do just that. but not too hard that you spit and ruin the polish.

before you even have to ask, matty places his other palm flat on his thigh, giving you permission to continue on with the second hand, careful not to get any paint on his jeans because you can practically feel the warmth of his body radiating through the denim.

once you finish up his pinky, you cap the bottle and tuck it away. you cradle the bag against your chest, crossing your arms atop to rest your chin there, gazing up at him. you notice as he stares up at the sky, wondering what’s going on in his mind right at this second because he seems a bit calmer. a bit more like himself. the boy who’s still your best friend, the one you’d do pretty much anything for. even if it means stumbling into the park at a ridiculous hour with makeup smudged halfway down your cheeks. a reminder of how exhausted you are. your eyes slip shut for what feels like half a second only to be startled by the sound of him rummaging through his hoodie.

“matthew, seriously?” you yank his hand from his pocket. “they’re probably still wet.”

he mumbles a low “my bad,” not sounding sorry at all, noticing the soft smirk that tugs at the corner of his lips. then your eyes land on the rectangular outline within the fabric, so you shuffle closer and reach in yourself.

“uh… what are you doing?”

ignoring him, you fish out a battered pack of cigarettes. you slip one between your lips, digging in your bag for the lighter you keep on hand. just in case. by the time you spark the flame and take a quick drag, matty’s eyebrows have shot up halfway up his forehead, staring as if you’ve been replaced by someone else.

“wait. so you smoke now?”

you hand over the cigarette, wrinkling your nose and shaking your head. “not really. not these, anyway.”

matty gives you an all too knowing glance, a hint of a crooked smile forming as he inhales. “ross got you into weed, didn't he?”

you shrug then nod because it’s true. you’ve been getting high with ross ever so often. and you’ve found out you really don’t mind it.

“i leave you alone for one summer and suddenly you’re out here getting stoned in my mate's basement. good to know.”

“shut up,” you say, rolling your eyes even as you can’t help but grin. “it was longer than a summer, by the way. and it’s not like i do it every day.”

he actually laughs. “yeah, well. this i can’t wait to see.”

“whatever,” you mutter back without any bite in your voice. he offers the cigarette but you wave it off, already certain you'd hack up a lung and a half at this hour.

you settle back against your bag, chin propped on top, picking absently at a bit of chipped paint on the table and watch in silence as he exhales smoke into the air. every now and then, you notice him extending his hand to look at his nails, cigarette tucked between his index and middle fingers.

“you like it?”

he nods. “yeah. it’s nice. it’s pretty. different, but cool.” he smiles down while thanking you, absentmindedly placing his palm besides your own, the sparkly electric blue colour on his fingers perfectly matching yours.

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malterea-kingdom · 1 day ago

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This is the part two to the Au I made for Forsaken, remember, anyone may use this Au or give me suggestions, just give me credit first! Anyways, onto the art and Loorree!

(Ps. Ignore most writings on the papers, I just sum them up underneath the pictures, also TW Blood, guts, and slight amounts of body horror!)

007n7:

• 007n7 knew this day would come, just not so soon… just one more minute with my so-

• 007n7 had teleported his son away from him just before he couldn’t control the C00lGUI any longer

• the only survivor 007n7 won’t actually try to kill is C00lkidd and if he does then (hypothetically) he’ll be stunned and hold his boy in his arms, muttering that his boy should rest or that he was so so sorry, kiddo… he’s aware of what he’s done, it’s just too late

• it is particularly Noli’s fault for 007n7’s corruption due to him putting in a joke code that would corrupt 007n7’s C00lGUI faster than expected

Fun Fact!: the text over my 007n7’s eye says “kill or be killed”

Chance:

• Chance is the shortest killer

• if given the CHANCE : D, Chance will chase down iTrapped

• Chance has his blood constantly suspended and floating around his head

• if chasing iTrapped down then he will start screaming and accusing iTrapped of being a traitor and pleading with him to tell “them” that they’ll have the money, they promise!

Fun Fact!: Chance can use his blood around him to attempt to attack people, and he can flip his favorite coin up into the air, grab it, see what it says, and then he’ll attempt to shoot the survivor

Two Time:

• twisted and broken due to the improperly completed ritual, he can no longer see

• Two Time was originally trying to do the ritual that he does in the OG Forsaken except Azure turned the knife on him, accidentally completing the sacrifice needed for the ritual

• this caused Two Time to become a monster with his second life, and gave Azure the ability to heal

• Two Time will call out for Azure and say that they need to share their abilities with the others

• Two Time can impale people with his wings and pull the dagger in his heart out to stab them, before returning it to its spot

Fun Fact!: Two Time has a cracked open neck where a wing sprouts and covers his eyes along with another wing

Shedletsky:

•the creator of 1x, used to call 1x his son, to 1x’s distain, now he’s different…

• ₮Ⱨł₴ ł₴ ₦Ø₮ ₥Ɏ ₵ⱤɆ₳₮ØⱤ

• Shedletsky is no longer himself in this form

• Shedletsky’s cheek on his right has rotted through, now showing his sharp teeth

• this form of Shedletsky is what has caused most of this sudden change

•the black stuff on him is feathers and rot

Fun Fact!: he still loves fried chicken!

Noob:

• less so a killer and more so a pain in the ass

• other killers can summon Noob to craw after the nearest survives

• Noob will not attack C00lkidd, instead they just hang out, for some reason???

Fun Fact!: he can crawl about the speed of C00lkidd’s goons in the OG forsaken.

Elliot:

• after being pushed around too much, he’s finally snapped

•Elliot is straight up just batshit crazy in this Au and is willing to kill you with his bare hands

•Elliot has slightly sharper hands, sharper teeth, and he is slightly stronger than OG Elliot

• Elliot kills people by slamming a steaming hot pizza on their face to disorient them before grabbing them and shoving their face to the floor, he will then proceed to kick their head in

• Every time Elliot sees 007n7, he attempts to stab him before laughing at him, the C00lGUI does not appreciate this

Fun Fact!: Elliot has a sizzling hot pizza covering his right eye and the bone beneath is slightly visible

Welp, thank you for reading and looking at my little rants! Sorry for not having Builderman, Duskurker (I can’t spell his name) or Guest 1337, I just had no idea how to make them and I didn’t want to make them poorly, if you have ideas for them then feel free to make them!

Sincerely, a man named Victor = D

#forsaken au #forsaken #007n7 forsaken #tw blood #tw body horror #? technically #chance forsaken #two time forsaken #forsaken shedletsky #shedletsky #roblox 007n7 #two time roblox #noob forsaken #tw spiders #elliot forsaken #elliot roblox

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olderthannetfic · 2 days ago

Note

You know what would be swell? If some of the dumbasses out there would realize that books written by people who'd be western minorities, but in their homeland are natives AND a majority, are NOT "minority" books.

I don't know what idiots need to hear this, but the fucking manga from Japan you're reading, the Danmei* from China, is NOT a minority book, JUST because Japanese and Chinese people are minorities in the West.

*from the perspective of them being Chinese. Not the gay part, obviously.

Just because these people would be minorities where you live, does not make them minority written books. It's also painfully insulting when people put ACTUAL minority written books on the same shelf as these other books.

They're not the same.

But also some of the idiotic white knighting attempts I've seen and just make no sense. How do you roll on in and talk about defending minority writers, when the book in question is a translated novel that's written by a native in their native homeland where they're a majority?

I think the added insult to the salted wound is how disrespectful on average people are about foreign markets. Hell, people in the West can't even be civil to their next door neighbours, yet still love juggling that high horse, and tell everyone else about the moral, social, and political failings of native written books. You'll see someone from the West talk about respecting minorities/fellow minorities, how these writers need supporting, but the next second talk shit about a foreign culture and how those books are offensive and bad because they just so happen not to fit a Western sociopolitical climate. (Yes this is about media like eg: anime which are clearly aimed at a Japanese demographic, and especially eg: aimed at teen boys. Why the fuck are you upset that the teenage boy horny bait is teenage boy horny bait? Stop reading/watching the teenage boy horny bait if it's too horny for you.)

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looksm · 1 day ago

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allied crew as kpop idols pt.1

ft. daniel park, vasco, zack lee

A/N: just randomly thought about how crazy allied as a kpop group would actually be so chaotic and ran to type this in the middle of the night so this was rushed and wasn’t revised! maybe i’ll do a second part idk

DANIEL PARK

idol!daniel whos sweet towards the fans, when meeting fans hes always telling them to eat well and to stay healthy. brings up his mom all THE TIME!! speaks the nicest things about his mommy with his sparkly eyes and smile which this just makes the fans fall deeper in love with him

idol!daniel whos the king of fancams!!! with a face card like his, his fancams always gain MILLIONS of views! and ALWAYS goes viral

as the leader of the group idol!daniel cant get ahold of his members who are all just idiots and loud! (except for jay)

“i share a dorm with 5 grown men who only eat and fart.. every day i consider if i should leak their info to dispatch..” has a crisis on live after one of the members ate his strawberry cheesecake he’s been anticipating to eat after all damn day of practicing!

idol!daniel whos more into the calmer side, has his moments of burst of energy which the fans love to see

honestly.. hes the IT boy of his generation. anything idol!daniel touches or wears gets sold out and EVERYBODY wears it but cant replicate it the way he can. obviosly he gets TONS of brand deals.

VASCO

idol!vasco who has the kindest heart and goes all out for the fans! will buy fans snacks and keychains if they come to any fansign events

fans who just start becoming fans get intimitaded by him at first but older fans always let it known that idol!vasco is just a big dummy with a bigger heart!!!!

idol!vasco who gets a lot of invites to go on variety shows because he just has such a good personality to make people laughs and his reactions or facial expressions always tend to become memes and gifs for twitter

he says stuff that leaves the group speechless and confused cause what goes on in this man’s head 😭

“bruh how did you even pass elementary?!” every member has at least gotten irritated by him cus vasco struggles to read his lines.. or read in general

this man doesnt know that he is FINE!! he doesnt have a clue in the fucking world. the fans go crazy when he takes his shirt off during concerts and he just stares at the crowd confused why everyone started screaming

ZACK LEE

idol!zack who just has a bored expression most of the time, tired of the groups bs and just yelling off his ear. always having something to say which honestly.. the fans didnt know what to think about him at the beginning.

it wasnt till the members did a group live playing uno that changed their perspective on him. the whole live was idol!zack losing every round and just losing it completely acting like a little kid pouting his lips, which the fans thought was cute.

sometimes he goes on live to complain about the members (obviously in a not so serious manner) and FANS EAT IT UPPP for the laughs, ends his 20 minute rant with a sigh and says “i love my members.” after roasting them

idol!zack whos surprising very loyal to the fans, despite his idgaf face, he shows how much he cherishes the people who cheer him on. says lots of stuff like "the fans will like this" "we have to give the fans a good performance today"

shuts those dating rumors DOWNNN

“i only have eyes for our fans”

the type to say "fans.. dont look at other idols, okay?" which JUST MAKES EVEYONE GO INSANEEEEE

i would like to say he would be the main dancer of the group.. i feel like idol!zack can dance so at end of the year awards he always gets a dance break that ALWAYS goes viral

#manhwa #daniel park #daniel park x reader #lookism smut #viral hit #lookism x reader #lookism #zack lee x reader #zack lee #vasco #vasco x reader #questism #idol

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nikethestatue · 3 days ago

Note

Azriel and Gwyn were already interacting in ACOSF, so having that potential romantic development in the next book (and the possible reveal that they're mates) + ON PAGE will still make it up for the readers that never read the bonus chapter. Like, CC4 will definitely bring up the fact that Ruhn and Lidia got married (despite it happening in a bonus).

The bonus chapter is a teaser for what will happen in the next book, S.J.M confirmed she sprinkled little crumbs and I quote "I want to hear all your theories after you read the book and his [Azriel’s] bonus scene, the crumbs have all been scattered, little bread crumbs everywhere".

If Gwyn is not that relevant of a character then what is she doing in Azriel's chapter? Why are the shadows' reactions to her are unique? Why was it Az who first showed up as grump felt settled down and his shadows even calmed down after their interaction? Why is Clotho in his chapter?

If you do a simple layout or a breakdown of the bonus chapter:

First half: Elain and Rhysand - both end on a miserable note for Azriel

Second half: Gwyn and Clotho - both end on a hopeful note for Azriel

I know that authors tend to put a lot of thought into how they start a chapter and how they end a chapter.

The bonus chapter begins with Azriel reflecting on his own loneliness, and it ends with him burying the image of Gwyn's joy in his chest after Clotho thanks him for the joy the gift will bring to her.

Some readers might not agree with it, but Azriel's chapter ended with Azriel's thoughts and the image of Gwyn's joy. Won't that nudge the reader that direction?

The love triangle Az is stuck in is already messy as it is, so there was absolutely no need to have Gwyn in his bonus chapter-still she's there.

His chest sparking and the image of Gwyn's joy wasn't planted there by some nefarious power, it wasn't until Clotho thanked Azriel for Gwyn's joy. So technically, Clotho triggered it. (Her name does get mentioned in mythology and she is someone of Fate. It is not a coincidence!)

The entire last paragraph he was aware of his thoughts. He consciously erased his smile at the image of Gwyn's joy and chose to bury her image deep in his chest where it glows quietly.

"For whatever reason" oh I don't know, the reason he can't pinpoint to it is because it could be the mating bond that he isn't aware of? Azriel is the only bat hoy without a mate.

There is constant foreshadowing in ACOSF that Gwynriel are mates. And they will be the endgame.

Anon, you can write the longest anons in the history of anons.

All of this comes off as desperate, because you aren't convincing anyone but yourself. This is in line with the general Gwynriel desperation to bag Azriel and make their ship happen.

What none of you ever understood is that 96% of Elriels are Elain stans first. Kind of like Nesta stans, who put Nesta first and foremost, we are the same.

Elain liked Azriel. Azriel obviously likes Elain. That equals Elriel.

But if you think for one moment that we'll be as pathetically desperate for Elriel to happen as you are for Gwynriel to happen, if there is even a WHIFF of hesitation on Azriel's part, if he is not fully obsessed with Elain, if he is not going to be willing to tear the world apart for her, then YOU. CAN. HAVE. HIM.

If there is hesitation. If he is written as someone CHOOSING between two women. If he is someone who looks at two traumatized, young, vulnerable but strong women, and he starts choosing one over the other like he is trying on a pair of shoes, then YOU. CAN. HAVE. HIM.

He'd be no better than Graysen. Worse actually.

If this is the MMC of your dreams--then have him. We'll wait for something better. It's that simple.

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steviesmarigold · 2 days ago

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M’s Week on AO3

3/23/25

First Reads

The Good Morrow: 75k words

Every night, Steve falls asleep and finds himself dreaming about a diner, and every night he finds Bucky waiting for him there. But in the waking world, Bucky has disappeared, gone on the run after the fall of the Triskelion and Project Insight, and the strange dream that they share may be the only way that Steve has to bring him home.

Never Like This: 76k words

The Winter Soldier thrashed, drowning. It was taking forever. His mask seemed to be stuck. He pulled on it, struggling to draw breath, sinking and resurfacing, clawing at his face, the panic in his eyes terrible.

Steve's would-be killer. The very worst HYDRA had ever conjured. A symbol of death and everything he stood against. And Steve just couldn't bear it. He was ready to go, but this guy clearly wasn't.

Bait and Switch: 2.6k words

"Post-action tacos?” Tony suggested. “I’m thinking that place by Fordham. BattleBot, you in?”

“Can’t,” the Soldier said, typing something into his phone. “I have a date.”

Tony stopped talking for an entire three seconds. “You. Have a date.”

The Soldier looked up and blinked, clearly nonplussed to find Sam and Tony both staring at him. “Yes.”

“With who?”

“My boyfriend.”

“You have a boyfriend. You have a boyfriend?” Tony looked like he’d just walked into a lamppost, and then the lamppost had handed him a birthday present.

I’m Not Sick (But I’m Not Well): 29k words

Steve Rogers doesn’t meet Bucky Barnes in the 1930’s. Instead, Steve meets him April 17th, 2012.

Well…sort of meets him.

In actuality, Bucky had almost hit him with his truck.

Or: The fic where millennial Bucky Barnes nearly runs over a freshly thawed national treasure, and what Steve Rogers did to adjust to modern NYC during those two weeks before the events of The Avengers.

watch them rolling back: 16k words

Bucky was just here, he was right here. This can’t be all that’s left.

Well, it’s not all that’s left, not quite. There, in the pile of ash that used to be Bucky Barnes, already drifting to scatter across the soil of Wakanda, to dissipate in the air, to be nothing but dust on Steve’s hands and in his gasping mouth and in his lungs—left there, in that ash and dirt, are his gun, and his left arm, gleaming dully in the sunshine.

I Saw You Yesterday: 9k words

Bruce counts down from five, but Steve never reappears on the platform.

And all of a sudden Bucky starts seeing him everywhere.

ReReads

Incredible! 100 Year Old Man Finds Love: 2.4k words

After Steve finds an article poking fun at his internet usage he tracks down the author's Twitter to give him a piece of his mind. Steve Rogers is not a meme and it's imperative Bucky Barnes knows that.

Captain of Death: 105k words

*Discontinued*

They call him the Captain of Death.

That’s because he’s never lost a fight.

Being forced into the ring every week was as shitty a life as any could have, but it was fight or die, and Steve was not going to die. It was his life; earning loads of money from bets, and never seeing any penny himself, getting punched and kicked on the regular, and beating others half to death. A miserable life.

Then enter James Barnes, head of the infamous Sevastyanov family. He’s heard of this fighter they call the Captain, and he’s interested. It’s not the first time some rich asshole showed interest, but Steve can’t help but feel that this is different somehow. He just doesn’t understand why Barnes looks so familiar. Like a friend of his youth he had long forgotten about, or perhaps a part of a future that has not yet been.

Ain’t Gotta Hide This Heart of Mine: 3.8k words

“Uh, so listen, Steve,” Rebecca says. She seems nervous now and she’s biting her lip, “I don’t want to, uh, come across as rude or anything, but I don’t think a relationship between us would work out,” Rebecca fiddles with the straw wrapper from her cranberry juice, “Mr. Stark sort of sprung this on me and I agreed because I was sort of startled,” she makes eye contact with him, “but I’m actually pretty gay, so…”

Steve can’t stop the sigh of relief that makes its way out of his mouth.

...

Steve has been dating Bucky Barnes, an ER nurse, for over a year. None of the Avengers (excluding Sam) know about this. It leads to the Avengers (mainly Tony) trying to set Steve up on dates.

might never be normal again (but who cares): 51k words

The beginnings of a plan took shape in Steve’s mind, as clear and simple as a tactical frontal assault. He’d prove to Bucky that this was it, he was staying: Steve was retired from the fighting game, Steve wasn’t going to let anything keep pulling them apart. Maybe then when Steve finally told him he loved him, Bucky would believe him.

All things considered, Steve thought he’d handled the whole Thanos killing half the universe thing and the ensuing bitter, desperate quest to defeat him pretty well. Sacrificing his super soldier serum to use one of the Infinity Stones wasn't a problem either, not when it meant getting back the half of the universe they'd lost, and especially not when it meant getting Bucky back. But retirement and finally confessing his feelings for Bucky? Those were proving to be more challenging.

This is the Perfect Time to Panic: 8.7k words

James, the golden voice says. We can’t tell you where you are. But we can tell you that you’re dead.

Fuck his entire life. Except he doesn’t have a life to fuck anymore, apparently. So he can’t really do himself any harm by back-talking the Infinity Stones, can he?

“No shit,” he says.

or: Finding the infinity stones and restoring half the universe is the boring part. The fun part comes next.

Endless War: 27k words

There is always something more to lose.

(Which means all is not lost.)

thot through the heart (and you’re to blame): 9.8k words

"You look like shit," Steve says, and that breaks the spell a little because fuck you, Steve, he looks good. Steve's nostrils flare. "Is that—is that blood on your mouth?"

Oh, fuck. Bucky needs to work on not being a sloppy eater. He wipes his mouth hastily, and without thinking, licks his hand clean. Steve stares.

In which Bucky is a baby vampire, a disaster, out to have a good time, and hopelessly in love with his roomate; and in which Steve has a few secrets of his own.

Effects of Obliteration: 25k words

“I watched a documentary on the bombs dropped on Nagasaki and Hiroshima a while ago. In the blast radius, sometimes a… a person blocked the bleaching effect of the radiation. So the person was vaporized, but a shadow was left behind, on a bridge or a wall – their shape, their outline, when they were completely gone," Steve said. "It’s called a nuclear shadow.”

“If you’re implying the Soldier is like a nuclear shadow, then that is seriously fucking dark, man,” Sam said dryly.

Before the fall of the Soviet Union, the Winter Soldier was sent to the American arm of Hydra - only there was a malfunction in the cryo-unit that meant it couldn't be opened, and it was left, powered but abandoned, in an underground base.

25 years later, the Avengers find it.

#m’s week on ao3 #stucky fic recs #stevebucky fic recs #stucky #stucky fics

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keyboardsmashess · 2 days ago

Text

Stars, Stripes, and Stage Lights

Chapter One: Bang Bang

Pairing: Steve Rogers x OFC

Warnings: language, eventual smut (but not in this chapter), fluff. MINORS DNI. A/N: We're BACK BBS! Welcome to part two of the Marvel Keyboardsmashiverse! This work can definitely be a standalone, so if you're new here don't fret, but you may encounter some unfamiliar OCs if you don't read my first work in this series (The Siren, or The Heart of the Matter) first. Anyway, happy Marvel Monday lovelies 😘 I missed you! Let me know if you want to be on the taglist!!

Summary: When HYDRA targets Pop Princess Kassie Cantor for reasons unknown, Steve Rogers has no choice but to accompany her on the rest of her tour. His goals are simple: keep her safe and figure out what HYDRA is up to. Romance is nowhere on the list - especially not with a popstar known for her hyper-girly image and lyrics full of innuendo. Can Steve complete his mission? Can Kassie crack the soldier's armor? Find out in Stars, Stripes, and Stage Lights.

Chapter Directory

WE WEEKLY MAGAZINE

What Can’t Cantor Do? by Miranda Morris

For this week’s Celeb Scoop, I sat down with America’s new princess of pop, Kassie Cantor. She gave me the Scoop on her album, life on tour, and her recent split from actor Luke Anders.

WW: Thank you so much for taking the time to sit down and talk with We Weekly, Kassie. It seems like you barely have a free moment these days!

KC: Oh my gosh, I know! I’m so grateful to the fans for how they’ve responded to Holy [Cantor’s recent chart-topping album], and getting to extend the tour? Insane!

WW: I actually just got word that Holy has gone platinum this week - how does it feel to have one of the most popular albums on the charts right now?

KC: I just have to say again how grateful I am to my fans - they’ve really shown up for Holy and I couldn’t be more excited to see their response to it. And it’s been so much fun seeing how many people know the lyrics on tour.

WW: Speaking of your tour, you’ve just added twelve new stops across North America. Do you ever get tired?

KC: Me? Tired? No way. The Holy Tour has been nothing but energizing. I mean, I get to hang out with, like, eighteen thousand of my closest friends every night while we sing and dance to songs I wrote - it’s a total dream come true.

WW: Still, a schedule like that can take its toll. I have to ask - did your tour have anything to do with your recent breakup?

KC: Oh, gosh. Um, no - not exactly. Relationships are hard for everyone, you know? And then with the extra pressure of being in the public eye, sometimes things just don’t work out. Luke and I decided that we weren’t working anymore, and luckily we both have plenty of creative projects to focus on instead.

WW: How do you feel about the recent appearances he’s made with his co-star, Amber Reynolds?

KC: If he’s happy then I’m happy. They were both great in The Saturn Chronicles, and I wish them nothing but the best.

WW: So the breakup anthem everyone seems to have stuck in their head isn’t about Luke Anders?

KC: Well… let’s just say sometimes I’m allowed to be more honest in song lyrics than I am in an interview.

That sounds like confirmation to me, readers! You can find the Luke Anders breakup anthem “Like I Used To” and the rest of Holy in stores now, or - if you’re lucky enough to snag a ticket - you can hear it live at one of Cantor’s twelve new tour dates.

🎶 🎶 🎶 🎶 🎶 🎶

“I’m telling you guys, it’s just another weirdo with way too much time on their hands.” Kassie focuses on touching up her lipliner in a compact mirror. “You need to chill out.”

Her publicist and agent exchange looks.

“Kass,” Rick says, voice gentle. “Susan and I both got letters. At our home addresses. That’s a big deal, kiddo.”

Kassie rolls her eyes. “She’s the best publicist in the industry right now, and you work for New York’s biggest talent agency. I could probably find your addresses with, like, a five second google search.”

“Kassie, you know I wouldn’t be pushing for this if I didn’t think it was serious. Do you have any idea what a nightmare it is to cancel a show this last-minute?” Susan doesn’t look up from her phone, but her voice sounds grim.

Still, Kassie plasters on her signature megawatt smile and stands, flipping her long blonde ponytail over her shoulder. “Well, it’s a good thing I’m not going to cancel, isn’t it?”

Susan sighs and finally lifts her eyes from her phone screen. “This is a bad idea.”

Kassie adjusts the hem of her miniskirt casually. “If anything goes wrong, I’ll make sure everyone knows you were both in camp ‘bad idea,’ okay?”

Susan rolls her eyes and Rick fiddles nervously with his watch.

Kassie accepts the sparkly, purple mic from a tech with a dazzling smile and winks at her team. “It’ll be fiiiiiiiine,” she sings, before turning and striding confidently onto the stage. Anything they might’ve said in response is quickly drowned out by the crowd of cheering fans, and she takes a deep breath once she’s at her mark for the first song.

“Hello, New York!” She places her hands in a prayerful position around her mic. “Are you feeling holy tonight?” The responding screams are deafening, and Kassie smiles widely.

It’ll all be fine.

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Despite being able to stand completely still for hours in some of the worst conditions imaginable, Steve Rogers is very uncomfortable. A week ago, he would’ve said he found this music perfectly fine - catchy, even - but that was before he saw the songs performed live and started to understand the double-meaning of some of the lyrics. Now he isn’t sure if he’ll ever be able to listen to them again.

He leans over to the person standing next to him. “Are you absolutely sure you didn’t make the intel up as an excuse to drag me here?”

Cleo rolls her eyes. “That would be a lot of fucking work just to get Captain Party Pooper to ruin my night.”

Bucky leans behind his girlfriend’s back so Steve can hear him. “I saw the report, Steve. HYDRA definitely has something planned.”

Steve frowns. “I still think we should have stuck with watching the exits.”

“I’m telling you, we have a better vantage point from here!” Cleo says, but she undercuts her own point a bit by belting out the lyrics to the song’s chorus along with almost every other person in the stadium.

I’d say I wished you well

But I don’t, and you can go to hell

Why don’t you sell your pretty lies to someone else?

I said we’re done, we’re through

Here’s looking at you

Because I bet she doesn’t do that special thing I do

Or love you like I used to

Steve has to resist the urge to cover his eyes when, at the second-to-last line of the chorus, the singer drops to her knees facing away from the audience and bends backward until the crowd can see her upside-down face, moving her microphone like… Well, like something that shouldn’t be done in public, if Steve is being perfectly honest.

Cleo laughs at his obvious discomfort, and Steve rolls his eyes. “I’m going to go check the perimeter,” he says, because it’s a good idea and also, he needs some air.

Bucky nods and Cleo waves a hand dismissively, not even looking at him. He’s barely made it into the aisle, though, when he hears an explosion coming from the stage. Steve whirls around, grabbing his shield from where it’s been strapped to his back, and starts pushing against the sea of screaming fans as they try desperately to flee the stadium.

Onstage, the singer - Kaci or Kassie or something like that - backs away from the hole that’s been blown through the stage floor, terror written across her face. Steve picks up the pace, resorting to elbowing people out of the way to get through the crowd.

“Sorry, excuse me, so sorry, excuse me ma’am.” He apologizes out of habit as he nears the edge of the stage. A few security guards have made their way up, but when Steve sees the five HYDRA operatives climbing out of the hole in the stage floor, he knows that this isn’t a job for a security guard.

He throws his shield at the first man’s head, climbing seamlessly onto the stage and catching the shield as it bounces back to him. Cleo levitates up next to him, now wearing her Sirensuit, and Bucky isn’t far behind. Cleo handles one of the four remaining HYDRA agents as Steve engages two in hand-to-hand combat. He blocks a stab at his neck, disarming the man and sending the knife hurtling across the floor toward where the fourth and final operative is closing in on the singer.

Steve ducks to avoid a swing from the second agent he’s fighting, popping up and moving several steps away from them. Before they can advance on him, he throws his shield and it hits the first man, ricochets off his head, and takes the second man down before returning to Steve like a boomerang. He locks it into place on his forearm and turns to save the singer from the fourth man, but freezes at what he sees.

The singer is standing with her hands in the air and a panicked look on her face while the HYDRA agent tries to staunch the blood leaking from the knife wound in his shoulder. Steve hurls the shield to knock the man out just to be safe and nods as Bucky begins restraining the unconscious agents. He strides over to the panicked woman.

“Holy shit, I think I stabbed him!” she says, voice feminine and airy despite nearly being kidnapped. She’s still standing with her hands up, like someone is holding her at gunpoint.

“It’s fine, ma’am - you just got his shoulder,” he says comfortingly, but she backs away from him slightly. Steve realizes that he’s towering over her, her head barely above his shoulders, and a small part of him imagines how delighted Cleo would be to find someone even shorter than she is. In an attempt to help her feel a bit safer, though, he holds out his hand. “My name is Steve Rogers. It’s nice to meet you.”

She finally lowers her hands and shakes his with a blank look on her face. “I’m Kassie.” She watches as Bucky restrains the stabbed man and carries him away. “Am I in trouble for stabbing that guy?”

Steve chuckles and shakes his head. “No, ma’am. You were just defending yourself.”

Suddenly, a man and a woman rush onto the stage, both of them frantically checking Kassie for injuries. “Oh my god, kiddo, are you okay?” the man asks, sweating profusely.

Kassie waves her hand dismissively. “I’m fine, Rick.”

The woman has a phone in her hand and her eyes dart back to the screen every few seconds. “Okay, great. In that case, we really need to get you backstage to start figuring out a statement. A few fans were injured leaving the stadium, so you’ll have to be apologetic about that, but you’ll also want to -”

“Excuse me,” Steve interrupts. “But we’re going to need to take Kassie here somewhere safe to ask her a few questions. We need to figure out why HYDRA was targeting her.”

Rick turns, wide-eyed, to Steve. “Yes, of course, Captain. Whatever you need!”

The woman rolls her eyes but nods. “Fine, I’ll just put something generic out for now. Kassie, call me the second you’re done with… whatever this is.” She stalks off the stage, heels clicking with every step.

Kassie blows out a huff of air. “Alright, let’s get this over with.”

Steve frowns. “D-do you want to… change?” he asks tentatively. “Before we go?”

Kassie looks down at her outfit - a very short skirt, a top that isn’t much more than just a bra, and heeled boots that come up to her knees. With a glint in her eye, she smiles and surprises Steve by taking his arm. “No, I’m perfectly fine. Lead the way, Captain America.”

He blushes at the way she says his name - almost sultry - but forces his face into a mask of calm confidence as he escorts her out a back entrance. Bucky snorts a laugh, and Steve shoots him a glare as they climb into one of Tony’s team SUVs.

We may only be a handful of blocks from the Tower, Steve thinks, but this is going to be a long drive.

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