#situation iykwim

[thebogiscoming]

Urgh. If ii s4 isn't slice of life I'm going to turn evil. Give them a break from the show....

[statementlou]

The One Direction ones honestly, well there's two things… I have like certain songs that I like more than others in the One Direction stuff but then.. what's been a challenge at times is... let's just take maybe the cheesiest of our songs, right, let's just take a What Makes You Beautiful- you kinda have to do that as it was, I couldn't reinvent that and make it [huge air quotes] "cool," I don't really think it exists in a cool realm or something like that you know it's a slightly different thing

--Louis talking about maybe adding a different 1D song to the set for the upcoming tour leg

[wavesoutbeingtossed]

The issue of power is so interesting (or something) to see because yes, from an economic perspective Taylor undoubtedly has more sway -- she's one of the most famous people on the planet, she's a billionaire, her every move is followed, etc. So I can almost sort of understand the concern, in another scenario, where some people may expect that she could crush her detractors (For instance, I'm thinking about how Harvey W. silenced his victims as a Hollywood mogul, or how corporate titans silence whistleblowers which I feel are analogies some people may turn to. Or maybe we've all just watched too much of the Roys on Succession.)

I said this in the tags of a post the other day I think, but I think some of the discourse is kind of conflating power with platform. And yes, Taylor undoubtedly has a bigger platform, again by virtue of her fame and position in the media/industry. But part of that is that she's visible in these areas, and her presumed subjects aren't, of their own choice. If any of these subjects ever chose to spoke out, or make art based on their experiences, or pursue opportunities in the media/public eye, they would absolutely be given a platform for it. (Going way back, think of how JM used the media to give his side of the story through his music and his interviews after their split. And I'd argue he was probably way more public/direct about it than she ever was.)

If any of these people decided they wanted their side of the story out there, it would be and it would absolutely be turned into a story. (And arguably that may already be starting but that's a whole other thing.) And this is just my opinion, but given that the subjects of these topics are often privileged white men, I'd argue that their sides tend to carry (more) weight regardless of their economic status in relation to her. If JM or JG or JA or HS wrote a book or a song or a script about their experiences, even only insinuating about her, it'd be the conversation. And not to be a cupcake about it, but the media seems to always want to find something to knock her down a peg about (which, sure, journalism's job is to hold people accountable, but that's not what always happens here and we know it), so they would absolutely give this the time of day, if they chose to put anything out there.

The thing is, I do see in a superficial way that there is there is a clear difference in their socioeconomic/celebrity status, and perhaps that's perceived as a power imbalance, but that's implying that she's dictating a whole host of entities out of her control, and I just don't think she holds the sway of those that some feel she does. Don't get me wrong, she's absurdly wealthy and has influence, but so do so many other people around her, including those who don't support her. (That's the wrong word for it, but I just mean, people who aren't in her circle/sympathetic to her.) And as I've posted about so so so many times before, THESE OTHER PEOPLE (men) ARE WEALTHY AND IN THE PUBLIC EYE TOO. They are all in careers that entail celebrity and involve their own influence in the media. These are not shrinking violets in private civil life who are like, grocery store checkout clerks. They're actors and musicians and media personalities who play the same game. And even the "poorest" of these subjects for the most part are millionaires who are far, far wealthier than any of us will ever be in our lifetimes. They may choose to stay off of social media or the press when it suits them, but they could absolutely make art or give interviews about their experiences and they would command their own kind of influence. (I'd also argue that they would be given a platform thanks to Taylor's platform, but that's another thing.)

I don't want to dismiss the influence of her wealth and stature in the entertainment industry, and I feel like that's kind of where the perceived "imbalance" comes from, but to be frank, I feel like if any of these other subjects spoke out, the media would be so quick to raise their stature in the press for the sake of clicks/controversy/what have you. Critics claim that Taylor can crush any story or person who goes against her, but I think given the breadth of stories out there about her at any given time (the NYT op ed, the jet stuff, the DM stuff, etc.) I don't think that's true; I think the publicity/clicks outlets get for covering stuff, even if salacious, outweighs any concerns over upsetting her or burning bridges. (Not saying that may have not happened, but... I think it would be more obvious if it were a regular occurrence these days.) If anything, 2016 through rep kinda proves that she doesn't have the "control" of the media that some claim she does.

But most importantly, THE ALBUM ISN'T OUT YET. WE DON'T KNOW WHAT THE LYRICS ARE. Taylor gets accused of writing diss tracks, but she rarely does, and I don't think she's written an outright callout song since her Fearless/Speak Now days when she was a teenager/very young adult. Just about everything since Red on has been about her own feelings, experiences, etc. and not a literal "you did x and y and z and you're stupid and i hate you" song. She's not calling people out by name, and truly only chronically online fans are going to deduce who songs are about; five years from now, people discovering the music will just know they're bops (or depressingly sad breakup songs, as the case may be).

I don't know where I'm going with this, i'm talking in circles, it's just interesting how things are being interpreted or assumed so far. I fully acknowledge I'm a cupcake so I'm generally not going to jump to the worst conclusion about Taylor, but there's also curious sociological/gender stuff happening in these conversations. I absolutely think that if the roles were reversed and her exes were billionaire household names and she was an indie artist, nobody would ever talk about power dynamics. I think it's all moot because like so many people have said, I don't think the album is going to be what some think it's going to be, and I think it's going to be way more introspective/vulnerable/dark than what they assume a breakup album is going to be, though obviously I don't know anymore than they do. It's just funny because you never hear about this with other people. (Like, was there a big fuss when Kelly Clarkson wrote a breakup album about her ex-husband? I know she's not as wealthy as Taylor and her ex was probably wealthier than Taylor's exes, but she's someone with sway in the industry and is on TV everyday, but everyone kind of said "lol her ex was a jackass wow she writes sad banger ballads" and moved on.)

Anyway I don't want to start shit or anything, but I'm just giving my two cents about my observations of the whole media landscape stuff.

[meimi-haneoka]

I have written an adult!YunaAki ficlet vaguely inspired in the last fanart I did (it's Halloween themed too) but I'm too insecure to post it in the open yet so I'm just gonna say HAPPY HALLOWEEN AND KEEP BOOPING!! 🎉. 👻 🎃👻🎃👻🎃👻🎃

[jas-the-shrimp]

Breaking news: Local beginner artist wants to make more art but too depressed to do so

[3verythingiknowaboutlove]

first fall of snow

how spencer guesses you're pregnant before you actually tell him

fluff word count: 1390 warnings & tags & stuff: pregnant reader, slight issues with mother mentioned?, non-graphic vomiting, mentions/allusions to winter holidays being celebrated, kinda spencer's pov but still 2nd pov, reader is scared spencer will leave her lol, anxious!reader in general, mentions of death?, probably medical inaccuracies ive never been pregnant author's note: hiiii i'm forcing myself to post this because if i don't then i'll never post and i'm being BRAVE. i hope it can be a little comforting maybe. i've realllyyyy been struggling with my take on spencer's characterization lately soo this was kinda like a bootcamp/exercise situation into his mind and less an expression of my writing skills, iykwim. let me know your thoughts if u have any! i love you & have a splendid day!!

Spencer is walking—speed walking—toward his car, away from the case he just finished, away from serial killers and guns and geographical profiling and death.

He places his feet carefully on the snow-covered sidewalk with each step, the cold air biting at his face. He barely notices it, absorbed in the path ahead, as the snow provides a satisfying crunch underfoot—a nice background to his perpetually racing mind.

He doesn’t like the winter. It’s always too harsh outdoors, and too stuffy indoors, and he’s trapped in a suffocating haze no matter where he goes. 

His phone starts to vibrate gently in his pocket, interrupting his racing thoughts for a split second. His pace falters as he pulls it free, a quick smile tugging at the corner of his lips when he sees it’s your name on the screen.

“Hi. How are you?” he asks after picking up, watching his breath come out in puffs of vapor in the cold air.

Winters, however, have gotten progressively better each year he spends with you.

“...I’m okay,” you say, though the crack in your voice reveals the all-consuming ache in your bones and mind.

“No. You’re overwhelmed,” he guesses in his matter-of-fact way, voice gentle. You huff out a soft laugh at his ability to read you, never getting old.

“Yeah, I guess. A little. The holiday season, you know. Are you on your way home?” you ask, voice softer now. You’re sitting on the couch of yours and Spencer’s cozy apartment, wrestling with a blanket to cover your lap, and bouncing your leg relentlessly.

“I’m walking to the car now. Hey, have you done the crossword today?” Spencer asks, words a familiar, tender remedy for your nerves. You told him a long time ago that hearing his voice makes you feel better, and there are times, like these, where he just knows it’s what you need. You rest our head on the arm of the couch, curling up.

“No, I didn’t have the time. Why?”

“There was an interesting question about causes of death in Shakespeare plays, but they completely messed up the part of speech. It read, ‘Popular ways to die by the hands of England’s national poet’. I thought it was ‘poisons’ at first, but it was actually ‘stabbed’, even though the correct answer grammatically should’ve been ‘stabs’ or ‘stabbings’,” he says, his car now in sight through the steady sprinkle of snow coming down. “Do you think I should send an email to let them know? I guess stabbing does make more sense, though, versus poison, because throughout his works, thirty characters out of his 74 that died were stabbed compared to only four that were poisoned. Three were stabbed and poisoned. Did you know that two were actually baked into pies, which is a-”

“Oh my god, the pie,” you groan, cutting him off mid-sentence, sitting up hastily, the blanket falling to the floor.

“Pie?”

“Yeah. My mom coerced me into making it to bring tomorrow.” You pad over to the kitchen and crouch down to peek through the hazy glass of the oven, inspecting it. “Oh,” you murmur. “It’s…not pretty.”

He sandwiches the phone in between his ear and shoulder, gently opening the door to his car to sit down as he listens to you. He turns the heat on, exhaling in an exhausted relief, hovering his hand over where the air comes out. 

“Can you tell me what it looks like? Maybe I can help,” he suggests, leaning back against the headrest and letting his eyes close for a second. You put the phone on speaker, setting it on the counter as you bend down to take it out. “Don’t burn yourself,” he adds, hearing what you’re doing.

“I’m not going to burn my-” you cut yourself off with a huff. “Whatever. It’s just really messy. There’s like… liquid overflowing where the lattice should be.”

He hums. “How long has it been cooking for?”

“45 minutes. My mom sent me this one ancient recipe that I had to use written on parchment paper from like 70 years ago, and it does not have a bake time listed, so I’m just eyeballing it.”

“Okay. You could either put it back in the oven in hopes that more of the liquid will evaporate, or you can leave it out to cool down and hopefully thicken,” he says.

“What do you think I should do?”

“I think you sound exhausted and need your sleep.” 

You sigh, staring at your mess of a pie, hopes that you’ll appease your mother this year slipping further and further away, soon to be completely buried by the snow.

“Hey. I’m sure it’ll taste really good. Besides, people still liked Shakespeare, and he wrote about much worse pies than you could ever make.” 

A smile pulls at your lips.

“Yeah. Okay. I’ll just leave it out to cool and head to bed. Will you stay on the phone a little longer?” you ask, padding over to your shared bedroom.

“Of course.”

He doesn’t start driving as you talk, not when nearly 2000 people die per year due to driving on icy roads, and two thirds of them were people who were reported to not be paying close enough attention.

And especially not when 54 hours ago on your last phone call, he noticed a drastic shift in your behavior, and was quickly able to tell that you were pregnant. 

He had too much waiting for him at home to be spinning out on black ice because he was talking to you and not watching the road.

He chooses instead to look outside at the falling snow, blanketing the city, his city, the very first for D.C. to have this winter out of the septillion snowflakes planet earth receives each year.

…

Spencer gets home a little later that night, holding another pint of cherries in his hands. Not for the pie—which he turns to see resting on the stove and winces slightly at—but for you. 

Cherries, with their 342 mg of potassium per cup, help replenish lost electrolytes and can soothe nausea.

He’s expecting it to start any day now.

He quietly steps into the bedroom, setting his bag by the door to be dealt with tomorrow. The soft glow of the lamp that was left on, presumably for him by your endlessly considerate heart, provides just enough light so he can get changed. He then finally clambers into bed next to you, one hand reaching out to lace in your hair, moving his fingers to gently scratch by the nape of your neck. He lifts the other to rest, like you're made of a delicate china, on your lower stomach, sighing in pure relief the second it makes contact.

You turn sleepily, humming when you’re met with the sight of him. “Spence,” you murmur, contented.

“Hi. I really didn’t mean to wake you up. I’m sorry,” he says, so quietly.

“I'm glad you did. I like it when you wake me.” You tuck yourself closer to him. “I love you.” His hand comes to trace gentle patterns all over your back and arm, and he gives you a little kiss, adoringly.

“Go back to sleep. I love you.”

You let your eyes shut once again, this time much easier now that he’s with you. You inhale his scent, which you swear could repair anything broken or lost in this world. You exhale, wondering if he’d still hold you the same way after learning that you’re carrying his child. 

It’s a scary thought, but you’re comforted by his warm touch, pushing you farther out into the deep sea of sleep.

Once your breaths get steady and your mouth parts slightly, he adds, in a whisper, “Both.”

…

The next morning, when you’re hunched over the toilet bowl, Spencer is there with you, rubbing your back and wiping your teary eyes. You look up to him after brushing your teeth, and no words are exchanged. He tugs you into his arms, silently quelling any of the countless anxieties swarming your mind, at least in this moment.

His hand comes up to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. He lets it rest there, cupping your jaw.

“Let’s go shopping after breakfast today, okay? You need prenatal vitamins.” He presses a soft kiss to your forehead.

“And a new pie.”

[iamgonnagetyouback]

hi! congratulations on 2k ivy! i've only recently stumbled into your acc but i'm loving all of your works so far!

you write so good i feel like im actually in it, iykwim!

anyways, if it's okay with you, can i get a 🧸 teddy dust for mattheo or theo with the prompt; "look, i know i probably should have backed off and i apologize." "no, honestly it was kind of hot." "what??" (from the 2nd angst prompt list)

i love your works sm you're amazing! cheers to 2k again!

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ⠀────۶ৎ reckless

synopsis: ever since you met mattheo, you knew he had a temper. but when some creep at a party gets too close to you, he completely snaps. now you're in his dorm, everyone yelling, but all you can think about is how pretty he looks when he's angry content warnings: violence, fighting, blood, suggestive tension, possessive!mattheo, mutual pining author's note: hi love!! ୨ৎ omg first of all, thank you so much for your sweet words, you have no idea how much that means to me ♡ hope you love it, darling—mwah!! ‹𝟹 nav. ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀2k celebration. ⠀

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ᡣ𐭩 words.ᐟ 705

The party had been going fine—better than fine, actually. The music was loud, the drinks were flowing, and the Slytherin common room was packed with students laughing, dancing, and generally causing trouble. But then, of course, someone had to ruin it.

You’d been trying to ignore the uncomfortable feeling of some Ravenclaw’s hand lingering too long on your wrist, his body crowding too close as he slurred something about how you were “too pretty to be this stuck-up.”

You were this close to hexing him when someone else stepped in.

More specifically—Mattheo. And more as in swung in.

The shift in the room was immediate. One second, you were glaring up at the guy, and the next, Mattheo was right there, shoving himself between you and the Ravenclaw.

His voice was low, lethal. "Touch her again, and I’ll break your fucking hand."

The guy scoffed, clearly thinking Mattheo was all talk—right up until Mattheo’s fist connected with his jaw.

The impact was loud. Gasps echoed around the room.

"For fuck’s sake, Riddle!" Draco groaned, already marching over.

Draco and Theodore had immediately shoved themselves between Mattheo and the guy before he could do worse. Lorenzo grabbed you by the wrist, tugging you back as Blaise and Pansy tried to calm the situation down. The guy scrambled away, cursing, but Mattheo still lunged after him, only stopped by Theodore gripping his shirt and yanking him back.

"Fucking hell, Riddle," Blaise hissed. "You wanna get expelled?"

"Expelled?" Pansy cut in, flipping her hair over her shoulder as she grabbed your hand. "More like murdered—if Snape finds out, he’s going to skin him alive."

"I’d like to see him try," Mattheo muttered, wiping his knuckles on his shirt.

"Are you dense?" Draco pinched the bridge of his nose. "Do you ever think before you act?"

Mattheo scoffed. "Oh, please. You lot would’ve done the same."

Theodore rolled his eyes but didn’t argue. "Doesn’t mean we’re not going to call you an idiot for it."

Eventually, after much grumbling, the boys dragged Mattheo upstairs to their dorm, with you and Pansy following close behind.

Once inside, the scolding resumed.

"If you break every guy’s nose who flirts with her, you’re going to run out of people to fight," Lorenzo pointed out.

"And fists," Blaise added.

"And brain cells," Theodore muttered.

"Bold of you to assume he has any left," Draco deadpanned.

Mattheo huffed, plopping onto his bed. "Whatever. Worth it."

Pansy shook her head before turning to you. "You okay, love?"

You nodded, offering a small smile. "I would’ve handled it, but..."

"But he had to go full knight-in-bloody-armor," Draco finished, rolling his eyes.

Blaise smirked. "Our resident guard dog."

Mattheo flipped him off. "Shut up."

Eventually, after much scolding (mostly from Pansy and Lorenzo), everyone trickled out, leaving you alone with Mattheo.

You exhaled, arms crossed as you leaned against the wall.

"Look, I know I probably should have backed off, and I apologize."

You let out a breathy laugh. "No, honestly, it was kind of hot."

Mattheo blinked. "What??"

You smirked, watching realization dawn on his face as he tilted his head at you, eyes darkening with mischief. "Ohhh. So you like watching me throw punches, huh? That’s a bit concerning, love."

You shoved his shoulder. "Shut up."

"No, no, this is good information. Noted." His grin was all teeth, but there was something softer in the way he looked at you now.

The air between you shifted. You could still see the adrenaline buzzing under his skin, the way his jaw flexed slightly, his lips still slightly parted like he had more he wanted to say.

So you decided to shut him up another way.

You grabbed the front of his shirt, pulling him down into a kiss. His hands immediately found your waist, fingers pressing into your skin as he responded instantly, tilting his head and deepening it like he’d been waiting for this.

When you finally pulled away, Mattheo was grinning like an idiot. "So, just to clarify—if I get into more fights, do I get more kisses?"

You rolled your eyes. "Try it and find out."

"Merlin, I love a challenge."

And just like that, Mattheo Riddle was absolutely, hopelessly gone for you.

© iamgonnagetyouback ⋆.˚ please do not copy, translate, or repost any of my work.

[malereadermaniac]

Utter Devotion ~ Xiao x Male Reader drabble/imagine

Fluff and smut with Xiao :) Word count: 556 Nsfw / MDNI ~ amab m!reader / FDNI

The fact that Xiao makes sure you know that no matter when and where, if you call his name, he'll be there?? Like that's so fucking hot

Bro is devoted to you, that's for sure - the twink just loves his boyfriend, he'd quite literally die if anything happened to you

He's even teleported to you on accident before! He usually just hears the "Xia-" part and sets off - which is really silly of him, cause you're good friend with Xiangling....

Xiao was reluctant to even start dating you at first, worried that his karmic debt would affect you. But the adeptus couldn't fight off his growing feelings for you - For real, the man was absolutely lovestruck

He couldn't pass an hour without thinking about you, about your voice which he found cute or sexy depending on the situation (iykwim), about your eyes, about your body, about spending time with you

Xiao would catch himself blushing like an idiot around you so much that he himself thought it was too much - the Yaksha would even STUTTER when talking to you!

It took Xiao courting you subconsciously (giving you gifts, going out together, and spending almost everyday with you) for YOU to ask HIM out! And even then you had to CONVINCE HIM TO DATE YOU!!

Greatest decision you both ever made though - you two are like two peas in a pod now!

Dates with Xiao are incredible

This man will carry you down the Wangshu Inn and sit you down at a table filled with fresh, fancy food and act all nonchalant like it's nothing! As if it isn't the most romantic thing ever!

And the sex is crazy good too.

Xiao's a twink but he got that sleeper build for sure!

He looks like a twig but FUCK when he flexes them ARMS - it makes you crack within seconds

The man likes to pull that trick in bed a lot, fucking the shit out of you and then pushing you that extra mile by flexing an arm for you (his tattoos also look real good like that)

Oh and you bet he does that thing where he squishes your face between his bicep (Fucking hot)

And the way that his abs are toned, his 6-pack ever-so subtle - its just sooooooo good

Again, the adeptus is wholly devoted to you, so the only thing he thinks about during sex is how to make you feel the best he can - which usually means you cum before him

Xiao will suck you off and eat you out for agesss, his strong arms under your thighs as he goes crazy, leaving purple and green hickeys and red lovebites on the soft area

And though he likes to go wild and fast when drilling into you, Xiao will make sure that his angle and pace is perfect, he makes sure that your prostate is generously milked each time!

He's big too! You wouldn't expect it from such a thin and kinda short guy, but that dick is long and veiny - and it puts its work in damn!

He's perfect in every way, Xiao is just the man for you - and he knows for sure that your the one for him, for life

You just gotta love twinks n their horse CO-

[maxtermind]

for the 3k event can you do oscar or max (or both iykwim🤭) with “i want to hear you beg” and “aw, to bad i don’t care”

“i want to hear you beg.” + “aw, too bad. i don’t care.”

( event masterlist \ main masterlist \ drop a request ) ★:summary:: you have a meeting to attend but your jealous boyfriend couldn't give less fucks. well one fuck. ★:feat:: max verstappen x reader ★:genre:: NASTY smut ★:a/n:: kinktober? 3k event? max's birthday post? who knows

"max, i-i really can’t right now. i’m late," you say, trying to keep your voice steady. you glance at the clock on your desk, anxiety gnawing at you. you should already be in the conference room, and yet here you are, pinned against your own desk by the man whose jealousy has been brewing for days.

his response is a low growl in your ear, sending a shiver down your spine. "you’re not going anywhere," max murmurs darkly, his grip tightening on your hips. his body presses against yours, the heat of him radiating through your clothes. “not until he knows who he's messing with.”

you try to protest, to push him away, but your body betrays you. the moment his lips crash against yours, you’re kissing him back just as fiercely. the intensity of it, the raw possessiveness, sends your pulse racing. you want to tell him to stop, to remind him of the meeting you’re late for, but the words die on your lips.

instead, your fingers clutch at his shirt, pulling him closer. you hate how much you want this— how much you want him— despite the circumstances.

"m-max," you breathe, but it’s not a real protest. you feel his hand slide up your thigh, your skirt hiking up with every touch. "i ha.. have a meeting…"

“aw, too bad i don’t care,” he mocks against your ear, his fingers already hooking into the waistband of your panties. you gasp as he tugs them down, the cool air hitting your skin. his voice is thick with jealousy, low and possessive. "you want this just as much as i do, baby. don’t pretend you don’t."

he’s right, and you hate it. you can feel the wetness between your thighs, it's almost embarrassing, your body betraying the urgency of your situation. the logical part of your brain is screaming at you to stop, to tell him no, but the rest of you is aching for him, craving the way only he can make you feel. you just wish he knew that too.

you hear the rustle of his clothes as he frees himself, and before you can think of another excuse, he’s thrusting into you, filling you in one swift motion. a moan escapes your lips, your hands gripping the edge of the desk to steady yourself. the suddenness, the intensity—it’s too much, but at the same time, it’s exactly what you need.

"see?" his breath ragged as he thrusts deep into you, pinning you against your desk, slapping your butt as it wiggles back into him, seeking some relief. "no one else can fuck you like this. no one else can make you feel this good." before his words even finish, his hips already start moving with a relentless pace.

his words send a wave of heat through you, your body arching back into him, seeking more. the meeting is a distant memory now, completely overshadowed by the sensation of him inside you, the roughness of his hands on your hips.

the door to your office is unlocked, and the thought of someone walking in on you, seeing you bent over your desk while max takes you, only heightens the intensity.

"max, s-someone could—" you whine, your voice shaky with both desire and fear, a deadly combo.

"let him," he growls, his grip tightening. "let him see who you really belong to."

his words send a surge of arousal through you, and you know you’re already too far gone to care about anything else. the way he’s thrusting into you, his pace unyielding, his breath hot against your neck—it’s everything. every time you try to form a coherent thought, it’s shattered by the overwhelming pleasure that’s building inside you.

you try to hold on, to fight it, but your body is betraying you. his possessiveness, the roughness of his touch, the way he’s claiming you—it’s pushing you closer and closer to the edge. your legs tremble, your breath coming in short gasps as you feel yourself unraveling.

"max, i’m-" you try to warn him, but the words get lost in the haze of pleasure.

he leans down, his lips brushing against your ear as he thrusts harder. "you’re mine," he growls, his voice thick with satisfaction. "say it."

"i’m yours," you moan, your voice trembling as the pressure builds, the tension in your body coiling tighter and tighter. the thought of someone walking in, of seeing you like this—helpless, claimed, utterly his—sends you spiraling. and then the worst thing happens.

"max, noo!" you whine pathetically as he pulls out of you, the string of juices connecting you both drops on the floor and tears well up in your eyes as your thighs tremble, your poor hole clenching around thin air. your boyfriend flicks the tear away and shushes you as holds your body firmly.

"i just wanna hear ya' beg, honey." you open your eyes to watch him eyeing his dick that was rubbing the slick against your clit, your puffy pussy barely able to handle it. so fucking messy. each rub, each touch making your back arch further. "bad girls don't get free orgasms."

"c'mon, baby." max taunts with a fake pout as you move to get more friction, to reach that high again. "don't go all dumb on me now."

it wasn't till he was removing his whole body from yours that immediate cries of please max, please, please, plea- was falling out of your lips.

your boyfriend immediately goes back into action and it wasn't too long before he was inside you again and his hand connected to your clit that you were gasping and screaming altogether.

your orgasm crashes over you, your body convulsing around him as you cry out, barely able to hold yourself up. the intensity of it makes your vision blur, your legs shaking as you cling to the desk for support. your mind goes blank and all you can fell is your boyfriend still rutting into you, now frantic and not in a rhythm, meaning he was close.

"fuc-ck," max groans soon enough. you feel him tense, his hands gripping your hips even tighter, surely going to leave bruises, as he thrusts into you one last time, whispering your name as he spills inside you. for a moment, you’re both still, breathless and trembling, making sense of what just happened.

you’re the first to break the silence, your breath coming in shallow gasps as you try to pull yourself together. "i- max, i have to go," you whisper, though your voice is weak. your legs still feel like jelly, your body still buzzing from the intensity of it all.

you barely manage to stand, your legs shaky, your mind still reeling from the intensity of whatever the fuck just happened. before you can even begin to gather yourself, there’s a knock at the door. panic surges through you as you try to fix your dress, max rushing to help you look put together but it’s too late.

the door opens, revealing your coworker—the one who’d unknowingly triggered max’s jealous streak in the first place. his eyes flicker from you to max, confusion and something else flashing across his face as he takes in the scene. you’re flushed, disheveled, barely holding it together, and max? max is smirking still patting your clothes and your hair because you can't move.

he gives your coworker a nod, as if to say, yeah, i know. the unspoken message is clear, and the smirk on max’s face says it all. he kisses your temple as he doesn't break eye contact with your coworker while you figure out the fastest way to die on the spot.

you’re late, and everyone knows why.

with a final, cocky grin, max walks out, leaving you to face the consequences. and the worst part? you liked it. all you can think about is him during the meeting, your ego too big to admit it out loud to him though.

©maxtermind // do not copy, rewrite or translate any of my work on any platforms.

★:a/n:: thanks for the request love! feedback and reblogs are appreciated :3

[astrobydalia]

Vietnamese astrology observations

Some observations on the Vietnamese astrology signs to celebrate the lunar new year. Disclaimer: these are based on observations and experiences from my pov as a dragon lmao As always credits to @novy2sirius for the inspo and knowledge of these things.

astrobydalia

🎋I've rarely seen Tigers getting married or having a relationship that lasted more than 1-2 years💀​💀 But the few ones that I've seen with stable marriages had spouses who were incredibly independent, someone who they admire and acts like they don't need/want the tiger person all that much. When tigers have these kinds of parters, they seem to be the most devoted and engaged in their relationships

​​💮​Tigers are highly attracted to danger (e.g. Mr Beast), sometimes to very concerning extents

​​💮​Tigers 🤝 having the attention span of an ipad kid. They like to command attention to themselves but don't like it when others demand their attention

​​💮​Which speaking of, Tigers ooze main character energy I’ve noticed. They are the star of the show and they know it. It's hard to not notice them in a room and honestly they really do have that 'it' factor, have this ‘unique’ energy to them (I think Lady Gaga is very representative of this vibe)

​​💮​My honest opinion on Tigers tho is that they’re annoying af, tend to be very abrupt and the kind of people who don’t know when it’s time to stop and stfu. Tiger men in particular I’ve noticed tend to say and do very inappropriate things often.... However I've seen older/more mature tigers that are pretty chill and simply have BDE

🎋Cats/Rabbits have beautiful smiles and a very youthful look to them. I’ve noticed however that they tend to smirk a lot, often appear cunning and mischievous cause they looooove messing with people, a lot of teasing and provoking. Very witty.

​​💮​Also, cats/rabbits are pretty horny and slutty. Even when they don't talk about sex at all their energy is very sensual, they come off as "easy" iykwim

​​💮​I’ve also noticed cats/rabbits have like some glow to them idk they look like this ✨🎀🪄 to me

🎋Horses are talented and really good at their job and crafts but they are also kinda bland and uninteresting tbh. On a surface level, they are cool cause they are rather playful, social and very engaging, they also have an approachable and warm aura. However they feel a lil vapid and superficial to me after some time. They don't look deeper into things and don't consider long-term consequences. They're also pretty aloof and inexpressive a lot of times

​​💮​Horses are very agile tho both mentally and physically. They are quick to respond to immediate or short-term situations/problems and I've also seen they are prone to be on the go 24/7

​​💮​I’ve also noticed horses tend to look strong, fit, muscular or in shape even when they don’t go to the gym

🎋I don't initially gravitate towards snakes but I always end up vibing with them incredibly well. Very profound, intelligent and insightful people. They have a lot of knowledge and wisdom about life. If you are looking to have philosophical convos they will totally deliver, both street smart+book smart

​​💮​It's extremely hard to get close to them on a personal level tho. They have sus energy and seem to hide a shit ton of things about themselves.

​​💮​Snakes are also very good at easing themselves into leading positions, they sneakily take charge of situations.

​​💮​Snakes have a wild side when underdeveloped tho. A lot of snakes I know are into conspiracy theories and/or are all about this idea of going against the system or the stablished rules but like in a very unhinged way. Tend to also make apparently mindless decisions that make ppl go "wtf are you doing?". In many cases they can become controversial af (e.g. Kanye, JK Rowling)

​​💮​Something I’ve noticed a lot with Snakes is that they tend to randomly ghost people. They’re the kind of people who you never really know where you stand with them unless y’all are super duper close. Tend be secretly very judgmental and have a very all-or-nothing mindset in their relationships (obsessive AF). They play A LOT of mind games with ppl all the time

🎋Both Tigers and snakes have difficult love lives and are prone to getting in abusive relationships. What I’ve seen with snakes in particular is that they tend to be the toxic and manipulative ones most of the times (e.g. Chris Brown). With tigers I've seen it go both ways but what stands out with them is that they tend to get in relationships where there is a MAYOR power imbalance in some way such as huge age gap or things like that (e.g. Amber Heard or Marylin Monroe). Tigers are attracted to forbidden people and that's also why they are the most prone to cheat

🎋RoostersI've noticed have very neat features, sharp jawlines, high cheekbones, nice lips, etc. They always look really snatched af and their bodies seem to have perfect proportions regardless of their body type.

​​💮​And yeah I've seen they are indeed the most arrogant out of all the signs here

🎋Both Snakes and Roosters are rather funny and sarcastic, but roosters pull it off more naturally. They guenienly have an unbothered and unserious vibe to them so humor comes to them effortlessly even when they don't try at all. With snakes it feels like they are intentionally trying to be punny so it doesn't land the same a lot of times

​​💮​A lot of roosters have memorable moments that become iconic memes😭:

​​💮​A lot of Roosters ik actually do not think of themselves as being funny or charming at all. They usually describe themselves as serious and hardworking

🎋Dragons have a very large and in charge personality, they often appear chill and normal at first glance but I’ve noticed they tend to be known for being unapologetic and highly expressive (Rihanna, Ryan Raynolds, Emma Stone, Adele, Kenue Reeves)

​​💮​When developed dragons quite literally and genuinely don’t give a fuck what people think, say or do to them. “Im just doing me” energy

​​💮​Dragons tend to enhance their own self-importance as a defense mechanism when they’re insecure tho. They might or might not be the most confident but they’d rather die than let others see that

​​💮​Dragons very often lack self-accountability or self awareness and tend to not handle conflict well. They are prone to having one-sided beef with people who aren't even thinking about them, I’ve seen this so much!!!!💀💀😭 It's giving:

​​💮​On that same line, Dragons tend to be advocates against mean or bad ppl I've noticed but this often manifests as them getting in personal vendettas about things that have absolutely nothing to do with them. So a lot of times all they're doing is causing a chaos nobody asked for

🎋Goats I wanna protect tf out of them. It's so hard to stay mad at them fr, they have the most endearing energy and they're very popular from what I've observed.

​​💮​When underdeveloped goats have the worst emotional intelligence and tend to be very emotionally volatile. Tend to take things personally very easily and make other people pay for their own issues

​​💮​Goats are the definition of a simp when in love or in a relationship. They LOVE romance and tend to be really good at it as well

​​💮​Goats are very soft spoken too!! I always find myself LOVING their voice or the way they speak, it's really soothing and hypnotic

🎋I honestly don’t like monkeys all that much, I can vibe with them cause we’re friend signs or whatever but they tend to be pretty childish, emotionally immature and self-centered imo. They can be very deep and intelligent but also fail to be responsible and take things seriously a lot of times

​​💮​The good side of them is that they are very creative and they are the type of person that never gets old to have around, they have many hidden talents

​​💮​Something else I like about Monkeys is they are really good with kids and are very family oriented. They truly love children and will prioritize the younger people in their life whether it’s their own kids, their siblings, etc

​​💮​I've also noticed Monkeys can be big big liars. They lie a lot and for no reason at all.

🎋Pigs aren't really all that ambitious, what they mainly want out of life is to live with as much comfort, ease and financial stability as possible and that's it. The good thing about this is that this can make them rather genuine people, not the type to have a hidden agenda or anything like that

​​💮​Pigs tend to be lazy but they can be hardworking at the same time. They drag their feet to do anything but when they finally bring themselves to put in the work they actually deliver great results. They are VERY financially smart too, you can count on them to get high-value and high-quality stuff

​​💮​Honestly pigs actually have a lot of potential, they can be very disciplined but their main thing is that they expect everything to be handed to them on a silver platter

​​💮​I’ve noticed pigs are very likable but also tend to be socially awkward at the same time. They're like that one introverted person everyone loves and wants in the group

🎋I don't vibe with oxes for some reason. They appear calm, unassuming and grounded but my god they are strategic, calculating and ruthless affff. Very self-righteous too, have a very unapproachable energy😭

​​💮​Oxes have a very harsh and cold “you gotta do what you gotta do” mindset and which can be really good but I think that's what I find the most unsettling about them. If you try to appeal to their more emotive side once they’ve set their mind on something they’ll look at you like this:

​​💮​Oxes are very disciplined and resilient tho. If people try to tear them down those people will fail miserably. Truly a force to be reconned with

​​💮​Oxes are super duper loyal too in EVERY aspect of their life, similar to dogs

​​💮​A lot of oxes that I've seen were surprisingly into occult as well or were into holistic forms of self-improvement. They can be very "zen" people

🎋Oxes and pigs are the most materialistic signs from what I've seen.

🎋Snakes and dragons are the biggest gatekeepers. Not just with material things but with anything that is valuable to them and gives them sense of power (think of the legends of dragons always guarding a treasure and the sneaky and secretive nature of snakes)

🎋Rats are usually very playful and energetic I’ve seen but in a more graceful and charming way. Very good entertainers and cool people to have around to be honest, another sign that tends to be popular.

​​💮​Rats seem to be all-rounders, very adaptable, fast learners and open-minded which is the main reason why I've seen they find success in the matrix.

​​💮​The main negative I’ve seen with rats tho is that they can be rather opportunistic and hypocritical but they hide this very well. They’re really good at sweet talking others and staying in people’s good graces. Very manipulative and deceitful, they can easily hide any ulterior motives and appear genuine to others

​​💮​A lot of Rats I know are interested in health and wellness in some way, having good hygiene, eating good food, working out, meditating, etc. Cooking in particular is a big thing with them I've noticed

🎋Dogs feel very mid to me….. I recognize they are MUCH more creative, intelligent and clever than horses imo but their go with the flow energy can make them very unoriginal or predictable.

​​💮​Dogs are also the definition of “same old story”. Strong tendency to stay stuck in the past, going back to their old ways and never really reinventing themselves

​​💮​The good thing about this tho is that its true dogs are loyal and consistent af tho, the kind of loyalty and devotion most people would only wish to find in someone and they are also peaceful, compromising and charming

​​💮​Dogs are very pretty too, they clean up nicely but I've noticed they tend to be super insecure about their image

​​💮​Dogs appear kind and trustworthy regardless of what kind of person they are deep down. Either they're genuinely very lawful and righteous people or very fake and phony, the type to smile to your face while planning to murder you in their heads

That's all folks!

astrobydalia

[scudslut]

ahhh yes yes, I haven’t written him too subby on here yet so I was super excited to write this❤️ I hope you like it @darylsgirl23 <3

Heartsease

Daryl x f!reader

Setting: Bridge Camp/Post Savior War

Wordcount: 2.6k

Warnings: 18+, softdom reader, unestablished relationship (but both know there’s a little somethin somethin iykwim), aka your his and everyone knows it, oral (m - receiving), unprotected piv, premature finish

Daryl was never one to keep still.

It made him anxious to be in one place for too long, always going on runs and patrols ensuring his people were as safe and provided for as they could be. He felt at ease outside the walls, out of people's prying gazes, and left alone to do his part for the community in peace. These days though, he was a flurry of activity. Hardly ever in the same spot long enough to see the sun rise and set again.

You knew he felt guilty - that he was angry and didn't know how to release it. You'd watch him work on the bridge for hours, frustration seeping out of his bones and into the atmosphere around him. It hung off him like a phantom.

The vast majority of the community was intimidated by it. They would walk on eggshells in his presence as if they could predict an oncoming outburst. But you knew better, you knew him.

He was angry at the world, yes. But he was distraught with himself... his own mind. It ran a mile a minute and gave absolutely zero reprieve. Anyone could see that if they dug just a bit deeper, looked at him a little closer.

Sure he was strong and burly; a true beast of a man, but he was also quiet and thoughtful. He cared so deeply about others that it frightened him to his core. All he wanted was to protect his family and do right by them.

And you saw all of that.

You had for years now and it only made your desire for him stronger. You wanted to thank him. Drop down to your knees and worship every freckle and scar that made him, him. He deserved it, deserved an escape.

Initially, you thought maybe he wasn't into that and preferred to keep his relationships asexual, to which you were perfectly happy to abide by. Any time spent with him was cherished time in your eyes. But during a sleep-deprived chat with Carol one night on patrol, long ago, you had found out he did have a few sexual encounters before the apocalypse. Just none that had truly meant much to him, or that he was entirely sober for.

That small bit of insight helped you understand the man so much more and you carefully dropped your hints from that point on. However, with your luck, every time you thought something might happen between you two, the moment would slip right through your aching fingers, dusted away by whatever imminent danger lurked behind each corner.

To be quite honest, you were getting fed up with the world's continuous cruel jokes, and from the looks of things, Daryl could use a healthy distraction right about now.

Ears perking at the familiar rumble you'd grown to love, you watched as he pulled up on his trusty, beaten-up Nighthawk, finally returning from a longer visit at Hilltop. You could see the sheen layer of sweat built up above his furrowed brows, his teeth nibbling away at his lower lip - an anxious habit you had picked up on mere days after meeting him.

His mind was bothering him. That much was clear.

He shuffled quickly to his tent, gaze transfixed on the muddy shoes he wore, avoiding any onlookers who wanted to ask their silly questions, throwing the flaps open, and disappearing in a fluster.

You knew better than to bother him now, give him some time to gather his thoughts and decompress. You whittled away at your spears, biding the time as you devised a plan on how you would approach him. After all, the last thing you wanted was to scare him off or embarrass him in any way. He was reserved when it came to these situations, unsure of himself. The few times you had brushed lips or touched him a bit heatedly, he was jumpy and almost insecure, as if he needed instructions on how he should behave. It was extremely endearing to you; like a stray pup who just needed a little reassurance and affection to calm his fierce walls of doubt.

It was almost dusk when you finished with your spears, gathering them up and placing them near some of the other weapons the community used when needed. You scanned the grounds, noticing everyone collected by the fire, dishing up for a late dinner. You quickly made your way over, grabbing two portions and slipping away before you were noticed and stopped for conversation. You knew Daryl wouldn't get one for himself, spew some excuse that 'he wasn't hungry' or was 'too tired' when really, he just didn't want to take away from another. Even if that meant he didn't eat or drink anything for days at a time. It made your heart blister for more reasons than one.

You balance both plates on your left arm, reaching to pull the flaps open slowly, not wanting to startle him with your arrival, "Dar? You asleep?" you whisper into the dim den.

You hear a grunt, some shuffling, and in a moment a soft glow fills the area as he lights a nearby lamp, perching up on his small cot, "I was."

Flicking off your boots, you zip the entrance closed behind you, "I brought you some dinner, figured you'd be hungry after your trip," You smile and he mutters a quiet thanks, opting to accept your kind offer rather than argue with you, he knew you wouldn't take no for answer anyway. He scoots to the side, creating a spot for you to sit while you two eat in comfortable silence. He liked that you didn't feel the need to fill the air, that you could simply enjoy each other's company without all the small talk. You were one of the few people he'd met in his life, who just inherently understood him, down to the most basic level. He hated leaving you all the time like he had been, just another thing to nag at his over-exhausted mind.

Hearing him sigh quietly, you cast your eyes over, watching as he scrapes up the remaining crumbs off his plate, placing it outside the tent along with yours for you both to deal with in the morning.

"I imagine your pretty tired, huh?" You ask, following his movements as he plops down again beside you.

"Nah, not really. Got a few hours 'fore ya came bustin' in here," he grumbles with a small smirk and you lean into him nudging his shoulder playfully. "Why ya wanna chat or somethin'?"

You consider him for a minute, trying to find the proper words to initiate what was truly on your mind. You knew you had no reason to be nervous. That even though you'd never labeled anything between you guys, you both felt it. Knew it was there. You just needed the right moment. Now was as good a time as any, you figured.

"No, I just- I wanna try something."

He nods his head for you to continue, so you scoot closer, placing your hand delicately on his shoulder and bringing your face centimeters from his. You stop just before you close the gap, gauging his reaction. His breath hitches slightly and you feel his pulse rapid under your fingertips, but he doesn't pull away. Taking that as the only confirmation you'll get, you press your lips to his softly, brushing your thumb against his stubbly, pink cheek. He takes a good minute to respond, carefully moving his lips back against yours and placing his hands on your hips. You feel him squeeze, eliciting a quiet moan of encouragement from you and he all but sinks into your touch, falling into a comfortable rhythm with your lips. You stay like that for a while, breathing in his piney scent and relishing in his gentle kneads at your waist. It wasn’t much to the untrained eye, but you knew that was his way of pouring his affection into you without so many words. His way of telling you he was yours.

You drag your kisses down his neck, nibbling and sucking at the salty flesh between his collarbones. His breaths grow uneven and you can feel him begin to tense again, unused to such personal attention, "Is this okay?" You ask, not wanting to push him past his boundaries. He only nods in response, his throat feeling like the Sahara.

He has to admit, he's thought about this many times, relieved himself to thoughts of you too many times to count over the years. He's just never known how to approach you about it, scared you'd reject him or he'd do something wrong.

He watches as you slip to your knees before him, your eyes glued to his. "You'll let me know if you want me to stop, yeah?" As he tries to nod in response again, you stop him, "I need you to say it to me," You press.

"Y-yea, I'll say somethin'," he whispers timidly and you grin, beginning to unbuckle his belt and slip his raged jeans down. You kiss down his strong thighs, feeling them tremble slightly beneath you. His hard-on is poking through his boxers and you drag your lips across it, placing soft pecks down the length of him, listening to his breathy pants. You didn't realize how turned on you'd be, having him all flushed and needy for you, but god were you enjoying it. Slipping your fingers into the waistband, you tug them down and his cock springs free, precum leaking from the pretty, pink tip.

"You dun have'ta," he mutters, anxiety sweeping over him fast, even though he really, really does want to. You catch his gaze, noticing how dark his stormy eyes have gotten.

"Let me take care of you, sweetheart," you reply, pressing soft kisses from the base to tip, feeling him pulse under your touch. You enclose your mouth around him, taking almost his entire length at once and you hear a guttural groan from above you, his knuckles white from the clutch they had on the bedsheets.

You wondered if he had ever had a woman go down on him before. Judging by the gasps and twitches he was emitting, if he had, it hadn't been for a very long time.

He bucks into you, searching in a daze for more friction, and you pin his hips down, earning a deep whine from him. You knew if he wanted to, he could easily overpower you, use your mouth to his heart's content, but he wouldn't. He wanted you to take charge. Needed it.

Raking your eyes over his heaving figure, you slide your tongue along his shaft, moving in slow, sensual circles as you bob up and down. Daryl's head is tossed back, eyes screwed shut and you can tell he won't last much longer. The sensitivity of not being touched in so long, sprinting towards him at full speed. You pull back, slowing your movements. He lifts his head off the wall, pale blue eyes blown to darkness as he watches you take him so sweetly, "Please," He whispers.

When you shake your head, humming a soft, "Not yet," as best you can around him, his eyes roll back into his skull, entirely overwhelmed by the overstimulation, but loving it nonetheless. "I-I can't," He gasps, his accent muddled even stronger in his lustful state. You have to squeeze your legs tighter, clenching around nothing hearing your man so utterly wrecked beneath you. You want to draw it out for hours. Have him begging you to let him cum down your awaiting throat. However, you decide you both have waited damn long enough to prolong your union even more.

Releasing him with a soft kiss to his leaking tip, you stand in front of him, shimmying out of your clothes as quickly as you can. "Lay down for me, baby,' You direct, moving the straddle him as he eagerly follows your orders, turning lengthwise on the makeshift bed. His eyes never leave yours as you sit down on him, groaning when he feels how wet you are pressed against his cock. "Have you thought about this before, pretty boy?" His cheeks flush crimson at your sultry compliments, nodding curtly whilst avoiding your stare.

"Dar." You press.

You were being so gentle yet stern with him it was making it brain fuzzy, all stressors from the day long washed away to be replaced by only you.

"Have, yeah," He huffs in embarrassment, trying with great difficulty not to portray how truly turned on your words were making him. But you saw right through him... or rather felt him. You lean forward, kissing and nipping up his neck to the shell of his pink ears, "Do you want me to stop?"

A full-body shiver jolts through him when he feels your warm breath against his ear, involuntarily rolling his hips into yours and you chuckle at his obvious sensitivity. He knows he needs to use his words. You won't be letting him off that easy. "Please don't," Is all he manages and it seems to do the trick. You grip his length, tracing it along your soaked folds, and slowly sink down. Your careful as you take in his reaction, scanning his expression for any signs of discomfort. He bites his lip, his eyes squeezed shut and lets out a muffled groan.

"Fuck," He mumbles, and you're surprised to hear him say anything you didn't need to pry out of him. A positive sign, you determined and start to bounce your hips slowly, creating a synchronized dance between your bodies. Your body is buzzing as you ride him, finally feeling the dull ache you’ve had for the man below you begin to dissipate as he whimpers oh so softly for only you to hear. His hands grip your waist hard enough to leave bruises to find in the morning, but you hardly give it a second thought. All you can think about is Daryl. His closeness, his warmth and strength, and-

He tenses beneath you, broken gasps leaving his chewed lips and suddenly he’s lifting you off of him, soaking your thighs and abdomen completely. You gawk as you watch him come down, sworn you haven’t ever seen something so fucking sexy in your life. His head tossed back, jumbled curses leaving his mouth, and dark auburn hair dripping with sweat. You don’t care that he finished before you, this was about him. But you see his eyes snap to yours when he fully comes back down to reality, cheeks blazing for a different reason than before.

Leaning towards him, you capture his lips with your own, tenderly pouring your affection into him, needing him to know you weren’t upset, “It’s okay, relax,” you whisper against him with a soft smile, leaning your forehead onto his. His eyes are filled with guilt, “I mean it, Dar,” And he’s back to his nods of response.

He didn’t need any more words of sympathy. He knew you were happy as a kid on Christmas, he just needed to accept it for himself. So with one last peck to his cherry lips, you slide off him, grab a rag to clean yourself up with, and scoot right in beside him, craving his warmth. He turns to you quickly, grabbing your waist and pulling you impossibly closer to him, burying his head into the crook of your neck. You feel a few soft pecks from him along your jaw and you sigh contentedly, wrapping your limbs around his, reeling in your post-coital glow.

You were safe, snuggled with your love, and that was all you needed.

[teapartyprincess4two]

begging you to write matt with reader who's also a youtuber/influencer. I want them to be best friends and reader is naive and way too kind for her own good. my idea is that there's another influencer who has a bad reputation and everyone hates on him because supposedly he's a big red flag. but one day y/n met him at a party and he put on an act so y/n now believes that he's not as bad as everyone makes him out to be. they become friends and that's when matt questions her about it and keep warning her about the type of guy he is because matt's worried about her but she won't listen because she's still giving the guy the benefit of the doubt and then they argue about this stuff idk you can change it up I just want this fic to have lotssss of angst but with a happy ending. if you could maybe even squeeze in an angry confession like "WHY DO YOU CARE" iykwim🤭

Why Do You Care?- M. Sturniolo

pairing: Influencer!reader x BestFriend!Matt

classification: angst, fluff

warning: use of y/n, toxic relationship, argument, slight cursing, mentions of blood, physical fight, “slut,” mention of alcohol use, long

inspiration: request^^

summary: You’re naive and let yourself be led on by someone you believe has good intentions, but one day Matt puts him in his place and ends up confessing his feelings to you in the process.

—

Most celebrities quickly become out of touch with reality, allowing the fame to inflate their ego beyond recognition. They splurge on fancy cars, big houses, designer clothing, and then flaunt all of it in the face of their viewers. They become friends with whoever’s currently trending only to chew them up and spit them right out, draining them for as much clout as possible before moving on to the next.

When you first started YouTube you were scared to become one of these celebrities; the celebrities that trade in everything old and meaningful for whatever’s new and shiny. You worked hard to create quality content for your viewers while also trying to remain as humble as possible. If it weren’t for your friends, you probably would’ve fallen victim to the materialism as well.

You had a large friend group consisting of influencers you met after the fame, but a small inner circle made up of your true, irreplaceable friends. Matt and his brothers were a part of this inner circle, all of you riding the wave into fame together. So, when everyone else was gloating over their newfound fame, the four of you remained humble and down to Earth.

Erik, the guy you were seeing, was the complete opposite though. You met him at an influencer event, much like all of your current friends, and he held a certain charm that drew you in immediately. Everyone warned you, claiming he was bad news and would only break your heart, but you didn’t listen. You were naive, giving him the benefit of the doubt and letting his sweet words convince you that he wasn’t what everyone said he was.

You’re currently sitting with Nick and Chris in their living room talking anything and everything boys. Usually Chris would just sit and listen, but the conversation has meandered into the topic of Erik, and he struggles to contain his opinion. An old film plays lowly in the background, a bowl of popcorn situated between piles of blankets and pillows.

“He’s not that bad. I promise!” you exclaim towards Nick and Chris, but it sounds more like you’re trying to convince yourself. You’re scrolling through your phone, buttery fingers trying to find proof that Erik wasn’t all that bad. Nick rolls his eyes, peering over your shoulder as you shuffle through endless photos on your phone.

Chris scoots in closer, copying Nick in invading your personal space before saying, “I don’t know, Y/n. I’ve seen him at a couple parties and he’s always either arriving with a different girl or leaving with one, or both.” You pop a few pieces of popcorn in your mouth, finally finding the screenshot you were looking for.

“Shush Chris, just look at this,” you reply with a mouthful of popcorn, a greasy finger zooming into the screenshot of messages between you and Erik. Before Chris can grab ahold of the phone, Nick is snatching it from you and reading the messages out loud.

“Hey baby, you looked so cute in that black dress. Can’t wait to see it off,” Nick reads, visibly shuddering at the message. “THAT’S the message you wanted to show me?” Chris scoffs, stealing the phone from Nick to examine the messages for himself.

“Just keep reading,” you murmur, now peering over Chris’s shoulder and shoving more popcorn into your mouth. Chris rolls his eyes at you, proceeding to read the messages from Erik, “You’re better than any girl I’ve ever had.” Nick laughs loudly at that, a laugh that exemplifies how unimpressed he is.

“He basically told you he’s fucked other bitches but you’re the best,” Chris deadpans, tossing your phone onto your lap. He’s had enough with the messages, all of them making him cringe beyond belief. Nick once again grabs the phone, examining the messages one more time, “He’s fucking doing the bare minimum, Y/n. Actually, he’s setting the bar so low it’s on the floor.”

Chris laughs at the comment, getting comfortable on the living room floor and averting his gaze to the TV. “Whatever Nick, he’s nice and I really like him,” you retort, no hint of true bitterness in your voice.

The room goes silent for a while, Nick’s focus being on deciphering any hidden meanings within the messages. You lean back into the blankets and pillows that surround you, joining Chris in finally watching the movie. Finally, when Nick has read the messages 10 times over, he replies, “Yeah you really like fucking him apparently.”

Your eyes widen to the size of saucers, your hands swiftly snatching the phone away from him, “I haven’t fucked him! What the fuck!” Nick laughs, knowing the comment trigged you, “Well from what I read, it sounds like you did.”

Before you can stop yourself, you’re grabbing one of the many pillows you’re laying on and lightly hit Nick with it. The pillow ricochets off his chest, the feeling being more annoying than painful. “Don’t start, bitch. I’ll fucking win every time,” he laughs, grabbing a pillow of his own and bouncing it off your head. Soon you’re both caught in a pillow fight, your giggles and laughter filling the living room and drowning the movie out.

Chris groans in annoyance when a stray pillow bonks him in the head, scooting away from you two and turning the volume up. Matt enters the living room fresh out of the shower tussling a white towel on his wet hair. He watches in amusement as you and Nick toss and turn on the living room floor, turning to Chris briefly and asking, “What’s going on with these two?”

Chris groans again, getting up and rounding the corner to head downstairs to his room, “I don’t know, something about Y/n fucking Erik.” Matt watches as Chris disappears into his room, the statement settling in his mind when the door clicks. You hear Chris’s comment, attempting to hit him by throwing a pillow his way, but missing because he descends the stairs before it can reach him.

“You’re fucking Erik?” Matt asks, attempting to sound nonchalant and casual. But there was nothing nonchalant or casual about his question, especially not when directed towards the girl he’s loved from the moment he met her. You and Nick halt your movements, both slightly out of breath and in shock by the straightforwardness of Matt’s question, he was never the type to be so blunt.

“No, that was a lie made up by Nick. See, Nick, that’s how rumors start,” you reply, directing the last part to Nick who holds his hands up in defense. Matt feels himself relax at your confession, the anxiety that was forming subsiding, “Oh okay, yeah. Good, cause I don’t like that guy.” He’s still trying to play the unbothered card, and he wonders if you can tell that it actually did bother him. You roll your eyes, watching as Matt slings the towel over his shoulder from behind the couch.

“Yeah, alright, because who I fuck is dependent on who you do and don’t like? Right?” you reply, a challenging tone in your voice. For some reason it hurt more coming from Matt than from Nick or Chris, maybe because you’ve been pining over Matt since childhood and he’s never realized it. You’ve seen him go through girlfriend after girlfriend without complaint, but the second you’re interested in anyone it’s a problem? “And that’s my queue to leave,” Nick mumbles, getting up and walking upstairs to his room in an attempt to leave the awkward moment.

Matt doesn’t get a chance to reply as you continue, “Whatever, I don’t know why I’m fighting with you.”

“We’re not fighting?”

“We literally are? You never like any of my boyfriends,” you reply, but even you know that you’re overreacting.

“Oh, so he’s been promoted to boyfriend?” Matt prods, a sassy hand resting on his hip. Truth be told, Matt has loved you for longer than you’ve loved him, but he’s always been too afraid to admit it to you. Both Nick and Chris know, but they’ve never exposed Matt’s true feelings for you because they know your relationship is complicated. They’ve watched you both try to fill the void with fling after fling, only to end up arguing about who’s dating who and ending up alone again. It was a never ending cycle between you and Matt, a cycle that would never break until one of you confessed.

“And so what if he has? What is to you, Matt? Not like you don’t have a new random girl in here every week,” you snap, surprised by the venom in your voice. Matt’s hurt by your comment, is that what you viewed him as? As a womanizer? But his hurt is quickly masked by anger, “Alright so now we ARE fighting, and it shouldn’t be any of your concern who I’m seeing.”

“Same goes for you, buddy! I don’t see why you care so much about my relationship with Erik,” you stand from your spot on the floor, feeling small compared to Matt’s towering figure. The condescending nickname is a slap to the face, quickly informing Matt that you aren’t here to play games or coddle his feelings. He wants to say so many things, all of them about his true feelings for you, but he bites his tongue. Plus, after being called ‘buddy’ he’s not sure you’ll even listen.

His jaw is clenched, one fist balled up and the other gripping onto the towel so tightly his knuckles turn white. Once the silence becomes too much, you continue, “Whatever, Matt. I’m going home, I’ll talk to you later. Tell Nick and Chris I said bye.”

“No, you don’t get to ‘whatever’ me. Let’s talk about this,” his tone is almost pleading, a gentle but firm hand keeping you in place. You won’t make eye contact, afraid that if you meet his gaze the tears will spill.

“There’s nothing to talk about,” you sigh, suddenly feeling defeated and guilty for arguing with the one man you truly loved. Why was this so hard for you both?

Matt opens his mouth to say something, but quickly closes it like a fish in water when he realizes that what he wants to say will only further complicate the situation. He silently watches as you gather your things. You push past him, making your way to the front door without another word, but you’re internally wishing he’d pull you back in and fix this. He doesn’t though, so you swing the front door open and walk towards your car.

When the door slams closed, Matt realizes that if he doesn’t do something about it, he’ll lose you for good.

—

Loud music booms through the club, the vibrations of the bass shaking the walls with each beat. You never pass up on the opportunity to celebrate friends, so when Tara, an influencer friend of yours, invited you to her party you immediately said yes. The venue is filled with drunk people, all of them so inebriated that all they can do is dance, makeout, and continue drinking.

Matt, Nick, and Chris follow closely behind you as you push your way through the crowd of dancing people. They were completely out of their element, choosing to stick to you like gum to avoid any uncomfortable interactions. As you weave your way through the club, you spot Erik in the corner with a few of your other friends, and immediately without thinking you abandon all loyalty to your friends and start walking towards him.

“Hey, where are you going?” Matt asks, voice straining to be heard over the music. He’s holding onto your elbow, grip firm enough to keep you from moving. “I’m gonna get Erik, I want you guys to meet him,” you reply, managing to slip out of his grasp and continuing your journey through the dense population of drunk, sweaty people. Matt wants to grab you by the waist and pull you back, but you just forgave him after your last argument and he knows your relationship is too fragile for another argument right now.

“Where is she going?” Chris shouts, scanning the room anxiously. The club was loud and chaotic, filled with strobing lights and bumping bodies that were enough to overstimulate anyone. Matt’s eyes are trained on you, watching as you reach Erik and cling onto him like a necklace. Chris, upon not receiving a response from Matt, looks at his brother. Matt’s jaw is clenched, prominent veins visible on his arms as the anger begins coursing through his veins.

Chris follows Matt’s gaze, immediately clocking what has Matt so serious. Nick is standing close by, bopping his head to the music. “Fucking hate that guy,” Chris comments, slapping Matt’s back and pulling him into a quick side hug. He was attempting to console his brother, to show his solidarity, but Matt was too blinded to notice.

“Tell me about it,” Matt grits, watching as you excitedly lead Erik towards the trio. Your right hand is holding a drink high in the air as your left is behind you, fingers laced with Erik’s as you dance your way back to your friends.

“Guys! This is Erik!” you look so excited, like a little kid showing off their new toy. But Erik is unimpressed and honestly, he doesn’t give a fuck who your friends are. Matt, Nick, and Chris care even less about him, in fact they hate this guy from the rumors alone.

“Hey man, nice to meet you. I’m Chris,” Chris is the first to break the awkward tension. He extends a hand, dabbing Erik up briefly as to not seem rude. Nick follows, going in for a quick side hug, “Nice to finally meet you, I’m Nick. Y/n has told us so much about you.”

“All good things I hope,” Erik replies. There’s a fake tone laced in his voice that Matt catches instantly, causing him to roll his eyes. Matt waits for Erik to give him his full attention before introducing himself with a firm handshake, “I’m Matt.” He wasn’t going to put on a show, all he had to do was introduce himself, simple as that.

Matt’s hand holds onto Erik’s for a little too long, successfully managing to intimidate him before he pulls away. “Matt. Noted,” Erik says awkwardly, ready to ditch this situation and consume as much alcohol as possible to forget this ever happened. Erik rocks back and forth on his heels, surveying the room for an excuse to leave. He spots a girl he’s fucked before, eyes lighting up as he creates an excuse on the spot, “Hey baby, I’m going to go find some friends I want you to meet. I’ll be back in a bit.” Erik plants a kiss on your cheek before dismissing himself with a wave, “Nice meeting you guys, see you around.”

“Nice meeting you, see you around,” Matt mocks in a high pitched voice, rolling his eyes for what feels like the 100th time tonight. There were so many red flags about this guy, but he was being so nice, so fake, that Matt couldn’t even point them out. And hearing another man call you baby has Matt’s blood boiling, he just knows that Erik throws that nickname at anything with legs.

Chris and Nick return Erik’s wave, but Matt immediately pulls you in close and begins warning you about the type of guy Erik is. “He’s so weird, Y/n. Just be careful please,” he whispers into your ear, the loud music forcing him to be inches away from your face. As he says it, he catches Erik checking a girl out on the dance floor, the same girl that Erik dismissed himself to go talk to.

“I don’t want you to get hurt. I care about you and don’t want to see you upset over a guy, especially not a douche like him,” Matt continues, subconsciously letting his hands rest on your waist. It’s a feeling you welcome, wishing that it was more than just friendly.

“I’m not going to get hurt. I’m a big girl,” you reply, a drunk smile on your face. How you’ve managed to get so drunk already, he doesn’t know, but he knows that he feels a sense of responsibility for you. He’s about to tell you to stay close, your drunken state inhibiting you from properly taking care of yourself. “I’m gonna go find Tara,” and with that you’re lost in the crowd again, forcing Matt to loosen his grip on your waist as he watches you dance away.

He leans against the wall behind him, a tight jaw forming as he switches his attention from you and Erik. You’re having so much fun dancing with friends, completely oblivious to the fact that Erik is chatting up yet another girl, and Matt couldn’t do anything about it.

—

After about two hours, Matt has officially decided that he’s bored. He and his brothers are the only sober people, the three of them watching as everyone else makes drunk decisions they were sure to regret later. “I’m gonna go to the restroom,” Matt excuses himself, earning a head nod from both his brothers. In reality he just needed an excuse to stretch his legs and a reason to walk around the club to look for you.

Matt hasn’t seen you since went to look for Tara. And as he laps the club, he ends up running into Tara, her small dancing figure thanking him for celebrating such a big milestone with her. He asked her if she’d seen you, but she said it had been a while since she last saw you. That worried Matt, especially considering how drunk you were. So, as he heads towards the restroom, he studies every face in the room in search of yours.

When he finally reaches the restroom, he still hasn’t found you, but as he pushes the door open he’s met with Erik’s annoying voice, “No I don’t actually like her. I mean, yeah she’s cute, but why would I tie myself down? I just need her to boost my views.” Matt sees red as soon as he hears it, he knows Erik is talking about you, who else could he be talking about?

“So you’re using her for clout?” another voice chimes in.

“Something like that. Have you seen her numbers, dude? Her and those little triplets she hangs out with are all anyone’s talking about right now. I don’t get the hype, but you know I have to get in on that… Plus, if I play this game long enough, she might let me hit,” Erik replies, the gross comment he made about you earning him a round of laughter from his equally as disgusting friends.

Matt’s about to push the door open, slam Erik onto the floor, and beat the living shit out of him, but Erik continues before he can, “And the look on that Matt guy’s face when I finally do it will be priceless. He’s clearly in love with her.”

Matt’s heard enough, and before he knows it he’s fuming and barging into the restroom, you can practically see the steam coming off of him. It doesn’t take long for him to single Erik out, the adrenaline pumping through his body providing him with a sudden, unmatched strength. Matt grabs him by the color, using momentum and force to push him against the cold tile wall.

Matt is glad that no one is here to hold him back, but even if there was he wouldn’t be able to stop himself from doing what he’s about to do. “Ay bro, what the fu—” Erik’s sentence is cut off by a swift punch to his jaw, a punch so hard that it has him dazed. Erik falls onto the floor harshly as all of his fake friends scurry out of the restroom, commenting something along the lines of “this guy’s crazy.”

Matt was in a blinded rage, watching as Erik spits blood onto the floor, using one hand to hold himself up and the other to wipe the warm liquid that dribbles down his chin.

“You think a punch will stop me from fucking your bitch?” Erik asks with a malicious, bloody smile forming on his face. Matt doesn’t respond, his fists doing all the talking for him as he kneels to Erik’s level and pummels his face. Punch after punch is thrown, each one leaving Erik bloodier and more bruised than the last.

Erik’s friends must’ve told people in the club what was happening in the restroom because you, Nick, and Chris are suddenly barging in. Nick and Chris are horrified at the sight, but with Erik’s track record they’re not surprised, he certainly had it coming. “Matt! Matt!” Chris shouts, wrapping strong arms around his brother and attempting to pull him off Erik, who’s laughing maniacally like he got what he wanted.

Matt’s stiff as a board, so it takes both Chris and Nick to pry him off the bloody boy. Finally, when they pull him off, Erik stumbles to get up. His face is so bloody he’s almost unrecognizable. “Matt, what did you do?” you whisper in shock, a trembling hand coming up to your face at the sight. Matt’s chest heaves as he tries steadying his breathing, his dark eyes softening a little when he realizes how scared you are.

“C’mon, let’s go,” Nick whispers, the severity of the situation settling into the atmosphere. Nick ushers everyone out of the restroom, and Erik gets one last jab in, “Yeah! Leave you fucking loser! And take your slut with you too!”

Matt was never quick to anger, in fact he was docile and patient most of the time, but Erik’s comment lets you know that his outburst was building and was most certainly justified. If Chris wasn’t holding onto Matt, he would’ve turned around and finished the job, but he’s glad he doesn’t because he catches the pleading look you give him.

“Let’s go home, yeah?” Matt asks softly, pulling you into his side and planting a kiss on your head. You nod slowly, eyes trained on the bloody knuckles that wrap around your shoulders.

“Yeah.”

—

The ride home is quiet, slightly awkward, and extremely uncomfortable. The streetlights illuminate the streets, the blood on Matt’s busted knuckles glistening every time he grips the wheel and takes a turn. Chris played music in an attempt to break the tension, but even that doesn’t help.

Once you’re finally at their house, the initial shock wears off. Nick and Chris are quick to go to their rooms, the entire night having drained them both socially and emotionally. Matt makes his way to the restroom, allowing the warm water to run across his hands. He winces at the feeling, watching as a pool of red forms in the sink. You’re upset, even if you shouldn’t be, so you follow Matt in hopes of getting answers.

“So are you gonna tell me what happened tonight?” you prod, leaning against the door frame. He doesn’t look up from the sink, instead running gentle fingers across his hands to wash the blood off.

“Nothing to say,” he replies sternly with a nonchalant shrug. In reality he had everything to say.

“Oh so you didn’t beat Erik to a bloody pulp?”

“No, I definitely did,” a smirk tugs at his lips.

“Okay… Why?” Matt was avoiding the question like the plague, not only because what Erik said is something he never wanted to repeat, but because it came with uncharted territory.

“Just…” his voice trails off as he turns the sink off, grabbing a nearby towel and drying his hands. He winces again at the applied pressure.

“You don’t get to ‘just’ me, Matt. Why!?” you’re raising your voice at this point, stepping into the bathroom and shutting the door behind you in the process. If Nick and Chris were asleep, you didn’t want to wake them.

“He was being a douche, okay?” Matt’s response is lame and he knows it. “I didn’t like what he was saying about you,” he continues without getting into detail, he was just trying to protect you and if that was such a crime he’d happily go to jail for it.

“I’m a big girl Matt. I told you I can take care of myself,” you scoff. Matt slumps onto the toilet seat, wishing he could just pull you onto his lap and hug the conversation away. “You always do this shit. You protect me like I’m a helpless little girl. We’re not eight anymore, Matt.”

“Sorry?” he replies, a sardonic tone evident in his voice.

“I DON’T NEED YOU TO FIGHT MY BATTLES, MATT!”

Matt sighs, he’s not in the mood for this right now.“He’s just a fucking dickhead, Y/n. He doesn’t deserve you. Plus, that bitchass pussy had it coming,” Matt replies, his voice remaining stern and steady. He didn’t want to raise his voice at you, but he knows it’s bound to happen with the way the conversation is progressing.

“WHY DO YOU CARE, THOUGH? WHY DOES IT MATTER SO MUCH TO YOU??” your hands are thrown up in exasperation, desperately trying to squeeze the answers out of him.

“Because you’re my friend.”

“No, Matt. Why?”

“BECAUSE I FUCKING LOVE YOU, OKAY? IS THAT WHAT YOU WANTED TO HEAR? THAT I’M MADLY IN LOVE WITH YOU? THAT I HAVE BEEN SINCE WE WERE KIDS AND I JUST—” he takes a deep breath, adjusting his volume and continuing in a defeated tone, “just forget I said anything, Y/n.”

The room is silent, so unbearably silent that Matt’s ears are ringing. His cheeks are flushed, almost as red as his knuckles. Your heart is pounding out of your chest. Small, quick breaths falling from your lips as you process everything he just said.

“You love me?” your voice is hushed, almost inaudible. When Matt looks up at you, he sees the twinkle in your eye as the tears brim your waterline. “Yes, I love you,” he affirms, it’s simple but true.

“Oh Matt,” you cup his face, suddenly it all made sense. All the times he chased away your boyfriends, complained about a fling, commented on a new friend, it all made sense with this new revelation.

“I get it if you don’t feel the same. You don’t have to pity me—” You cut Matt off with a passionate kiss, it’s the only thing you can think to do. He’s shocked at first, but he melts into the kiss once it registers.

His hands travel to the back of your thighs, legs spreading as he pulls you in closer to him. He moans into the kiss, unable to contain his excitement.

Matt’s tongue finds its way into your mouth, his grip on your thighs becoming stronger with each passing second almost like he’s afraid that if he lets go you’ll disappear. You only pull away to catch your breath, whispering four long awaited words into his lips, “I love you, Matt.”

Strong hands tug you back in for another passionate kiss, the pain in his knuckles suddenly vanishing as he relishes in this newfound feeling.

He’s never letting you go again.

—

MASTERLIST

A/n: it’s been a while guys 😋💃🏻

thank you sweet anons for the requests, I combined them because they were very similar & I hope I did them justice!

-L.A.M.B👼🏻💗

—

taglist: @nicksmainbitch @sturniololovers @mayhem-72 @worldlxvlys @gnxosblog @meg-sturniolo @creamoncreamoncream2 @mattnchrisworld @sanyi5 @lustfulslxt @whicked-hazlatwhore @tworosesblackthorn @mxqdii @fawned01 @junnniiieee07 @sturniolololover @missriddle03

note: if you want to be tagged in my fanfic related posts, you can access my TAGLIST and comment 💐

[weirdgenetic-fuckup]

so.. rockstar ex gf reader x 90s! dave at an award show, coincidentally with the same seating arrangement and their bands nominated in the same category, one of them won and took the other to the bathroom to brag abt the award, iykwim. tytyty ilysm hbvsauiowduh🙏

A/n: HELP MY COMPUTER DIED AND I ALMOST LOST THIS I WAS LITERALLY ON THE LAST LINE I WAS GOING TO KILL SOMEONE anyway I hope you enjoy this <3

Warnings: Smut, angst, semipublic sex, if you think I missed anything let me know otherwise enjoy!

Part 2

All around you were people whispering about your current situation. Someone somewhere decided to sit your band next to Megadeth, your ex's band.

You sat across from him, trying to keep things civil with space but Dave kept staring at you, just waiting for something to happen, even going as far as to toss a few peas at you 'accidentally'.

Still, you tried to ignore him. Your bands were nominated for the same award and you were confident that, if you didn't win, you'd surpass Megadeth.

Your relationship had been no secret and your distaste for each other was well known, clearly whoever put you here knew what they were doing. Everyone was talking about it, any time you walked past someone your name was the last thing out of their mouth, their gaze always led to you.

Part of you hated it more than anything, it felt high schoolish, the whole of it. You were an adult, the people around you were supposed to be adults, how did it lead to this?

The reason was people speculating about the end of your relationship. You had been so happy together for almost two years, people were expecting a wedding, but then it was over and a fire reared its head in the wake.

You wish you knew what to tell people other than to respect your privacy.

Really, Dave came home in a better mood than usual, it was strange but welcomed. He got you your favourite flowers, snacks, the works and he was clinging to you, showering you with words of affection up until you were laying in bed.

You were curled up at his side, head on his chest and trying to fall asleep when your world came crumbling around you.

"I don't think I can love you anymore." He said with virtually no emotion, pain, sadness. Nothing.

The night ended with things being thrown, more tears than you thought you had in you and your throat hurt with how much you were screaming. All you wanted was answers but he just wouldn't give you any.

You packed your things the next day while he slept somewhere else, where you didn't know and didn't care. You were gone by the time he got back and neither of you contacted the other afterwards. Dave started his own band to get back at Metallica and you were determined to do the same, to add salt to the wound.

Until now, neither of you had a reason to see each other and you were more than happy with that, he'd given you everything and for what?

You sat back at your table right when they were about to announce who won the award. You leaned your head in your hand, swirling your drink in its glass as you waited for a name to be called.

You didn't even care anymore, you were tired of the gossip, of the rumors that you cheated on him, that this and this happened, that it was all just a publicity stunt because yes, of course, you and your love for a man who couldn't be bothered to do the same was entirely up for debate how could you be so fucking stupid?

"I know we've all been waiting for this one, the once happy couple sure is cheery, huh?" You glanced up to the announcer, the big screens showing your table.

You looked miserable. You felt even worse. Everyone around you did their best to be presentable but you were ready to flip off the camera crew.

You noticed another unhappy face at the table, Dave. He would still glance at you occasionally but he was glaring daggers at your bandmates beside you, wondering how they could be so oblivious to your sunken mood.

"Anyone know what happened?" The announcer asked, a big smile on his face. A few small laughs sounded throughout the place as tears welled in your eyes.

You wanted to run and hide but you knew you couldn't while they called out your award. So you sat there silently, waiting to hear if all your efforts were worthless. "Well, guess it's time to rip the band-aid off and let the wound bleed." How thoughtful, you thought. "And the winner is!" A soundtrack of a drumroll played even though their are more than enough capable drummers here, something you'd always wondered about. "Megadeth!"

Your ears were ringing. All the cheering, the men at your table standing and excitedly reaching for one another at the award. It felt as though you were being stabbed by everyone's eyes.

You felt a hand on your back. "Are you okay?" Your bandmates voice was muffled like it was behind a wall of foam. You nodded and excused yourself, keeping your head held high as more tears formed in your eyes, just trying to make it to the bathroom.

There was no one else there and you just stared at yourself in the mirror taking deep breaths until you calmed down but the tears just rolled down your cheeks.

The door opened, you expected to look over and see your bandmate but it was Dave. He had a concerned look on his face, those stupid glasses you wanted to rip off of his stupid face and crush them. He'd just go buy another pair but you wanted to.

"Are you okay?" He asked. You carefully wiped your eyes, trying not to ruin your makeup and further.

"Why do you care?" You muttered, keeping your voice low, not trusting it to stay stable.

"Because I care about you." You scoffed at that.

"Oh, yeah, sure you do, you cared so much about me yet you couldn't even be bothered to love me." He stared at you a moment before taking a step closer to you.

"I never said I didn't love you." You opened your mouth to protest but his arms were around you and he spoke up again before you could get anything out. "I said I didn't think I could love you anymore."

You rolled your eyes at him before wiping them again. "What a fucking difference that made." He sighed and leaned down, resting his chin on your shoulder just as he used to, the sight tugging at your heart.

"I love you. I loved you then, I love you now, I never stopped loving you and I never will." More tears came to your eyes and you couldn't blink them away.

"Shut up." You said through gritted teeth.

"I didn't want to, alright?" His voice was deep and soft in your ear, honey dipped silk wrapping around your mind. "My manager made me, said it would be good to get the band out there."

"You chose to break up with me... for fame?" You mustered, not wanting it to be true.

"If I didn't they would have dropped us from the label."

"So you didn't choose me?"

"You're not getting it-"

"I get it perfectly!" You yelled, spinning around and pushing him off of you. "You were already a big band, it would've been stupid to drop you and even if they did someone would've been dying to pick you up." He stared at you, taking in your words knowing you were right. "You didn't love me."

"You can't say that." He said, gaze falling to the ground.

"You treated me like Metallica!" Tears dripped from your jaw to the tiled floor as you glared at him. His eyes shot open. "You were done and you dropped me for what? Publicity?" He didn't say anything.

A long moment passed, neither of you saying anything.

Dave took a step closer to you, then another until he was inches from you. He wrapped his arms around you and closed the gap, his lips crashing against yours.

You wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him deeper into the kiss. You'd missed him for so long, so many sleepless nights with your hand between your thighs, a random man you'd close your eyes and pretend was Dave but it was never the same.

He pushed you back until you hit the counter. He lifted you onto it and stood between your legs, quickly undoing his pants and letting his half hard cock hit your already wet panties. You let out a slight gasp into the kiss and Dave groaned as he stroked himself.

He didn't bother taking them off of you and just pushed them aside as he pushed into you. He pulled away from the kiss, letting your see just how his eyes closed, how his mouth opened and soft breaths left him.

"Fuck, I missed this." He groaned. His eyes opened and he brought his focus back to you, your eyes as they swirled with lust and hatred, both directed at him. "You are so beautiful, you know that?" You bit your lip, looking down his clothed body until you landed on where the both of you connected.

He took your chin in his fingers and tilted your head up to look at him. "Do you know that?" You nodded. "Tell me."

"I know." You muttered.

"You know what?"

You inhaled deeply. "I know I'm beautiful." He gave a nod of approval.

"And this award means nothing, you know that too, don't you?"

"Yes, I know." He gave another nod.

"You know I love you, right?" You paused. He stared at you expectantly, eyes flickering all over your face, admiring your features. "You'll know when we're done." He kissed your forehead and pulled his hips back before snapping them into yours.

Your eyes shut tight and your lips parted in a moan, you'd waited far too long to feel him like this again, how he stretched you out and dragged against your gummy walls. More moans ripped from you as he set a fast pace, Dave's hands roaming your body and lips kissing up and down your neck, leaving small marks.

His hand came down and he rubbed your clit with his thumb, giving it some well needed attention after months of only you noticing it. Fuck, you loved the way he made you feel, all light headed and your body hot with desire.

A familiar knot formed in your gut, burning a passionate fire that resonated throughout your body. Your voice echoed off the walls while Dave's grunts and groans were save specially for your ears. You weren't concerned with someone walking in on you, let them see, let them hear how good he made you feel and see the love in his eyes as he stared at you in awe.

"Hah- Fuck, Dave, m'close." You mumbled, leaning back on your hands and letting him do the work, it's the least he could do and he was more than happy to do it.

He didn't say anything and kept his pace, his thumb still pleasuring you perfectly. Your chest was rising and falling, breathing laboured and your head rolling back as you felt the strings slipping and finally snapping, loud moans leaving you of cursing and repeated 'Dave' over and over.

He let you ride out your high on him but pulled out and got himself situated again. "Why-why'd you stop..?" You asked, breathing heavy and your eyes lidded.

"Well, I figured if I was gonna show you I love you I didn't need to worry about myself, right?" He said simply as he helped you dust yourself off, so to speak, and off the counter. "I can worry about that later, can't I?" He asked, wrapping his arms around you once more.

You thought about it for a moment as you made your way to the door, Dave still clinging to you. He held you tighter, not letting you leave. "You know I love you, don't you?"

You bit your lip, remembering everything that happened before the breakup. "I know you love me." You said, thinking about how abruptly it all ended.

"And?" He asked.

You looked back at him over your shoulder. "And?"

"Verdicts still out?" You crossed your arms over your chest.

"It'll take more than a fuck in some bathroom for me to consider that." You mumbled and left the bathroom, Dave still following close behind.

[hangenderzoe]

ok so wait imagine hange smoking while getting zown with you… iykwim 🤭

Splayed out on the bed, your legs tremble and vision unfocused as Hange watches you gasp for air. They're sitting in front of you, wearing a wifebeater and loose sweatpants. You had lost count after they delayed your orgasm for the third time. You look like a mess. Your lips swollen from biting them and tear stains on your face.

The sound of Hange lighting up a cigarette snaps you out of your dazed state. You watch as they hollow their cheeks and then blow out smoke.

"You're staring." They say as a smirk forms on their lips. You look away, feeling shy and gaining awareness that you're naked and look like a mess. The scent of the cigarette fills the room, feeling more humiliated by the second. Your eyes stare at the ceiling as you feel frustrated by the lack of stimulation. Attempting to be sneaky, you try to touch yourself for some relief. Stupid idea. Hange is right in front of you. They take the cigarette out of their mouth and lightly graze the burning end on your inner thigh.

"Ow! What the fuck?" you flinched. "I don't remember giving you permission to touch yourself." Hange retorted.

You peel your hands away from yourself, squeezing your eyes shut in hopes to gain patience for the situation. Suddenly, you feel a pair of hands spreading your legs.

"Don't move.", you hear Hange firmly say. You tried to obey as much as you can, but it's hard not to tremble when they're touching everywhere except the needy spot between your legs. Hange traces patterns on the skin of your inner thighs, feeling their warm breath on you.

Tears are welling in your eyes. You're so desperate for a release. "Hange, please..." you barely whisper. "Hm? I didn't quite hear that." Hange slurred because of the cigarette on their lips. You inhaled deeply, trying to gather courage to ask Hange to touch you.

"Please touch me. I really need to cum." You sobbed. Hange takes their hands off you to take one last hit of the cigarette. They toss the rest of the cigarette away. "Since you asked so nicely." They replied before kissing you sweetly.

ᵗʰⁱˢ ⁱˢ ᵐʸ ʷʳⁱᵗⁱⁿᵍ ᵈᵉᵇᵘᵗ ʰᵃʰᵃ ⁽*꒦ິ꒳꒦ີ⁾ ⁱ ᵏⁱⁿᵈᵃ ˢᵗʳᵃʸᵉᵈ ᵃʷᵃʸ ᶠʳᵒᵐ ᵘʳ ᵖʳᵒᵐᵖᵗ ᴵᴹ ˢᴼᴿᴿʸʸʸ ⁱ ᵍᵒᵗ ᶜᵃʳʳⁱᵉᵈ ᵃʷᵃʸ ⁱ ʰᵒᵖᵉ ᵗʰⁱˢ ʷᵃˢ ˢᵗⁱˡˡ ᵍᵒᵒᵈ ᵗʰᵒ read part 2 here

[chectah]

n. doe bf headcanons 🪽

( this has two very slight nsfw mentions )

- literally THE SWEETEST.

- also the best with kids! his little brothers have taught him that🥹🥹

- the human embodiment of silly

- abs abs abs abs! yuuumm

- the most loyal person ever, he was already loyal to you basically the moment you guys met.

- he would talk to chris about you, but you two wouldn't actually meet until the triplets were back in boston for a holiday and he practically DRAGGED you. ( they would be so so nice though, don't worry 😇nick loves the FUCK out of you)

- if you have little siblings, he is OBSESSED. like whether they're 15 or a newborn, he will get along with them. alllwaaayyss loving on them.

- ur his first EVERYTHINGGG.. (tbh idk if he's ever had a girlfriend but i'll just say no🤓)

- this man is an absolute CHILD at heart. you two will, without a doubt, be spending most of your time watching spongebob.

- along with that, nate will reference spongebob at the most random times. he can tie any situation in with it. he randomly shouts out "my leg!" or something 😒

- sends memes constantly. non stop.

- also put those fuckass gifs under your posts like he does to the triplets. ( i hope u guys understand☹️. )

- even though he's a short king he is packing... okay, have to keep this sfw.

- gives you his hoodies constantly!! it's like all he wears so he has so much to go around.

- so so so sweet, like i cant stress this enough... he would SOOOO much rather be cuddled up on his couch with you and his dog, drinking hawaiian punch than at some lame party☹️💝💝

- respectful, ALWAYS. the type of man to say "yes ma'am" to everything you say.

- boston accent obviously goes crazyyy

- so so gentle with you… like.. always.. iykwim

[d6volution]

i was wondering if u could do a jax x reader were jax walks into readers’ locked room expecting nothing but sees reader .. ‘taking care’ of herself.. iykwim 😋

your writing is my fav !!<33

of course, and thank you so much, I'm glad you're enjoying it anon. 💗

Jax/Fem!Reader | Rating: Explicit.

tags: mutual masturbation, dirty talk, mean jax, voyeurism, mild degrading/name calling, penetration with a foreign object (it's a brush.)

minors dni.

Whistling echoed through the halls as a key twirls around Jax's finger. To his knowledge everyone was off on one of Caine's little adventures. The perfect chance to.. satiate his curiosity, or cause some trouble.. its one in the same to him. He stopped at your door, the plaque with your face on it was oddly endearing.

Just as Jax kneeled down to unlock the door he heard something strange, causing his ear to twitch a little. "What the.." He muttered and leaned in , resting his head on door so he could hear better. But then it was silent. "Don't go losin' your mind just yet, Jax," He scolded himself and unlocked your door with a soft click. "After all you've, —' Jax froze, the light of the hall illuminating your dimly lit room, revealing your figure sprawled out, dwarfed by the large bed. Lewd noises coming from in between your tremblings legs.

Your hand was moving in a rhythm between them. He cocked his head to the side a little, before stepping forward and closing the door behind him with a gentlte, 'click.' Now, standing in the door way with his arms crossed.

... you were using the blunt end of a brush to get off, creative. He'll give you props for that.

Your eyes were closed, and the opening of the door was so brief that you hardly registered the light which flooded in , briefly tickling your closed eyelids. No you were too busy chasing your high.. you were so close, close close..! The brush pumping in and out of your wet cunt. Until you heard the click of the door shutting and immediately shot forward panting, "W.. Who.."

"Oh, don't stop on my account, I was enjoyin' the show, doll." Your eyes finally adjusted to the darkness and the unmistakable silhouette of Jax and that shit eating grin that was always plastered on his face.

"Y.. You pervert Jax, get out!" You threw a plush bear at his head which he easily dodged. He just stood and stared, waiting for your excuse.

Fuck. Your cunt was still aching, and you were oh so close to release and this.. jerk had to come in between you and ecstasy.

He tuts, "Naahh... I think I'll stay. I mean, you're clearly breakin one of Caine's biggest rules," Jax takes a step towards you and your stomach feels tight.

"Th-The hell do you care.." You shot back, chest still heaving. Hair sticking to your damp face. What a strange situation this was. You, sitting here like a animal in heat. Cheeks flushed and legs pressed together, trying to subdue the growing frustrations between your legs while the most attractive circus member stares at you like you're being served up on a platter.

"Look, we both know I could careless about Caine's 'rules' , now- what I do care about are those pretty noises you were makin' earlier." He teased, every word that left his mouth was auditory seduction and he knew it. You legs pressed together harder, he wasn't stupid. He knew exactly what he was doing.. "But ya know, I could just call him up now and let him see just what a mess you are, not to mention non-family friendly." He said while gesturing his hand towards your form.

"No! Jax..! You asshole , I swear.." You spoke through gritted teeth, and he hushed you, lifting a single gloved finger to his otherwise permanent grin. "Then get to it toots. I don't have all day. Well— I do. But that's besides the point." He coos but theres an edge to his voice and you gulp.

You grip the brush and scoot back against the plush of your pillows, your heart thumping in your chest. It was either this or even further embarrassment from Caine.. who was sure to be loud enough that entire tent would know.

Besides.. you needed to get off anyways, maybe it wouldn't be so bad.. other than letting Jax have the upper hand which he always took advantage of.

"Hmn, move those covers aside will you? I'd like to get a better view." He said, breaking your chain of thought.

Jax was being oddly patient. He silently thanked the darkness that hid his growing erection in his overalls, he couldn't let you be aware that you were getting him excited this fast.. not yet at least.

One of his hands trailed down his thigh to stroke the growing appendage through his clothes.

You pushed the covers to the side obediently and your glistening cunt was on display. "Y.. You'd better not tell anyone about this or i'll..." You tried to sound bold, intimidating.. but,  the threat was empty, and your voice died in your throat as you teased yourself with the brush.

"Or you'll what ..?" He was walking towards the edge of your bed, "Tell everyone what a slut you are? That I caught you touching yourself in your room and whimpering like a little whore? Oh, I bet they'd love to hear that doll in fact how about I tell them myself, hm?"

Your breathe hitched, you found yourself thrusting the brush in and out of your greedy cunt as he spoke. Degrading you, "Ya like that toots? Bein' talked down to while you get off?" He said and pulled himself from his overalls, stroking his twitching cock over your trembling form. He's already got the upper hand.. no point in hiding it now.

He lifted on leg and planted it at the edge of the bed, as if to give you a better view of him stroking his lavendar dick. Balls jumping a little with each tug.

"N.. No that's.. not.." You gasped, hand subconciously moving faster. Thrusting the foreign object in and out of your wet cunt.

He watched with baited breath, his chest heaving and ears twitching a little as he stroked himself. "I'm afraid lyin' won't get ya anywhere toots.. nnh.. just keep bein a cute little slut for me and fucking yourself."

He panted, drinking up your moans and the cute way your body twitched and hips bucked against your hand. "Just like that.."

"Jax.. please.. please touch me.." You whined, and screwed your eyes shut out of frustration, hand kneading your own breasts.

"I don't think so, toots. I'm just enjoyin' the show tonight." He chuckled, watching you writhe at his answer but your hand didn't stop, you were too determined to finally cum this time.

"You can do it doll, so close.. and just imagine maybe I'll be pounded that tight little cunt next time.~" He purrs, as his own grip tightens on his cock. Fucking his fist with more vigor as your own thrusts got more sloppy and lacked rhythm.

"Hh.. Hha..! [Censor!] Jax.. !!" You cried as your body spasmed and convulsed around the brush, the pressure pushing the object out of your cunt. At the same time Jax was spurting out ropes of cum onto your floor, avoiding your bed .. though it would have been better on your face or thighs..

"Ha.. not bad doll, ...nh.. you should get cleaned up." He said , adjusting his own clothing, but his eyes never left you. He was savoring the look you had on your face. Dilated pupils and mouth agape a little. How cute.

"Next time.. lose the brush, I'll have something a bit more filling.~"