#that is one of my favorite travis songs EVER

[gutsby]

Cowboy Killers

Pairing: Cowboy!Joel x Reader

Summary: On a mission to find—and fight—your best friend’s lying, cheating boyfriend at the bar, you end up throwing your drink in the wrong face and landing in a sticky situation with Joel Miller, who never plays fair.

Warnings: 18+. Drunk-Assholes-to-Enemies-to-Lovers. Oral (m!receiving). Road head. Age gap. Daddy kink.

Note: My favorite sub-genre of country music is ‘I’m Gonna Fucking Kill My Husband,’ and I think Miranda Lambert’s ‘Gunpowder & Lead’ is a perfect representation of that.

Word count: 4.1k

Forgive and forget.

Forgive and forget.

Forgive and—

“I’m about to lay this motherfucker out,” you announced.

Across the line, your friend laughed.

“Yeah? You see him?”

Of course you saw him. Who else would be wearing a Carhartt flannel and jeans in ninety-four degree heat? Not a soul in this world but your friend’s own lying, piece of shit, hopefully-soon-to-be-ex boyfriend, you guessed.

The game that Old Fuckstick Miller had decided to play tonight was a dangerous one—he was dumb as shit, and you were drunker than a skunk. He was dating your best friend, and she was not present at the Tipsy Bison to see the barefaced clusterfuck taking place before you now.

She was home, over thirty minutes away. He had told her that morning he would be working late, and not to wait up. You were here, at the bar, approaching one A.M. with a Redbull Vodka clenched in either fist and a Texas-sized frown on your face, seeing the very same man with his hands all over a woman that wasn’t your friend. You’d wanted to puke as soon as you saw them. You knew you could never trust a man who claimed to be an Austin native and couldn’t name a single George Strait song.

Your friend had only been dating the guy for a month, and you’d just seen his face in pictures up until now, but from what you could see less than twenty feet in front of you—slightly blurred from all the drinks you’d had—this guy was him. A dick. There, cheating on your best friend.

And no man would get to do that and walk out unscathed if you had anything to say about it.

Your grip tightened on either one of your fizzy drinks and, barely managing to cradle the phone between your head and your shoulder, you gestured over to another friend.

“Dave. Take it,” you said, words slurring a little.

Dave York cocked an eyebrow but said nothing as you passed him one of your RBVs and shimmied off the barstool. By the time he was able to pose his question, your ass, your phone, and your one remaining drink were already wobbling the other way. Vaguely, you heard him:

“Where ya headed, hon?”

You turned and raised your drink, then seriously doubted he would be able to hear you over the blare of the music, but yelled back anyway, ‘I’M GONNA KILL SOMEONE!’

The age-old pro-forgiveness aphorism continued to thump in your brain as you made your way over and began to contemplate every feasible method of murder.

A gun in the face would’ve been too simple—and besides, you’d never owned or shot a firearm in your life.

Poison could be fun, but from the way you were approaching the man now, you seriously doubted he’d ever let you get within a mile of his drink. You nudged the phone closer to your ear and took a sip from your own.

“Closing in,” you told your friend simply.

She’d already given you the go-ahead to execute the confrontation and beat his ass any way you pleased after the fact. Now it wasn’t so much a matter of ‘if’ but ‘when’ you’d finally get to encroach on this little loved up scene at the other end of the bar. The man had had his back turned to you, and the stunning redhead hanging off his neck, likewise, had no idea what was coming. You smiled.

“Promise you won’t go to jail this time?” your friend said.

“Will you bail me out again if I do?” Your grin got bigger.

“Well, duh.”

“Good deal. I’ll be the shitfaced inmate with ‘Fuck Men’ tattooed on her forehead. Wait for Travis County to call.”

“I love you, psycho.”

“Love you more.”

You ended the call.

And you were fully ready to end this man’s life when you saw him lean in to kiss the woman’s neck—that was sick.

You weren’t thinking straight. You weren’t seeing straight

You yelled out, ‘He-e-e-ey, honey!’ without blinking.

The couple turned.

As soon as the man had done a full 180, you flung your drink in his face and made sure the cup struck his nose.

“You cheatin’ FUCK!”

He flinched, sprayed by your vodka-infused energy juice.

The music overhead was loud, but not so deafening as to prevent the bar from hearing your shriek. From the front of the room, a band was playing ‘Gunpowder & Lead,’ and you couldn’t help but feel the song had been fate.

“What the f—” the adulterer started, evidently stunned.

You knocked the Shiner Bock out of his hand and spat:

“Working late, are we?!”

And spilled another patron’s beer reeling back.

“Got a little caught up on the way home?”

Gesturing toward the green-eyed beauty to his left. At first, the girl fixed her stare on you as if you’d sprouted another head, but then, by turns, she was tilting it to him.

“You have a girlfriend?” she hissed.

Cheater McFuckstick was wiping his beard with his hand

Shaking his head.

“Hell no, I ain’t never—”

“LIAR!”

Channeling your inner Representative Wilson circa 2009, you let your mouth fall open and stared at the big, burly man like the Congressman had once done to President Obama all those years ago. The semi-stranger in front of you was far less composed than his political counterpart.

“What the fuck is your problem?!” he snapped.

You felt your cheeks heat up.

“Is she your girlfriend?” would-be mistress said, shrill.

“NO!” you and been-knew asshole yelled together.

You saw the man’s nostrils flare, and at the same time, the woman beside him departed. Quickly. A few people around you cleared the way, while others still stared, gawked, and murmured amongst themselves. The Miranda Lambert cover band continued on without a hitch, though you could tell there had been a stir in the crowd. They probably thought the worst of it was over.

They thought wrong.

“You’re a dick,” you seethed, unrelenting.

You almost expected the man to turn and leave.

You thought wrong.

“You’re a cunt.”

And the man chucked a stray whiskey sour in your face.

The $15 spirits splattered on your skin like the meanest insult of all. His aim was better. Though he didn’t let go of the cup, as you had with him, he did make sure to coat the whole of your twisted look with the liquor, and once it landed, he had had the nerve to do something else, too.

He brought the glass to his lips then drank what was left.

“How’s it feel?” he sneered.

You stood in wet, sticky silence for half a second; arguably, you’d earned that cocktail to the face.

On the other hand, who the fuck did he think he was?

You grabbed a random can of Keystone Light and flung it at his chest to give him a hint—and catch him off-guard.

“You’re a bitch, Tommy Miller!”

“Wh—”

“Maria’s my best friend, you absolute f—”

“What—”

“—and you cheated on her for what? All so she—”

“What did you just call me?!”

“A BITCH!”

“No, the NAME!”

“TOMMY MILLER!”

“I’M JOEL!”

Oh.

Oh.

You and Joel were shortly escorted out of the bar.

Joel’s name, and a trace of bourbon, were still fresh on your tongue when you found yourself stranded in the middle of the Tipsy Bison parking lot two minutes later. You leaned into a car beside you and held your stomach.

“Someone drop you on the head as a baby?” Joel barked.

Presently, for you, the world was tilting sideways, and your head was throbbing at a nauseating tempo.

“Go around slingin’ drinks at any old man you—”

Green. Green must’ve been the color of your face as you braced your hands on your knees and assumed a stance as if to scream at the ground. Rather than expecting any noise to ring out, though, you had only to squeeze your eyes shut and hold onto a hunch for something much less pleasant. And viscous.

Reeking mostly of Red Bull and regret, if you had to guess.

Joel took a big step back, and then he took another.

“Da-a-adgummit, girl, what the—”

He turned away just in time to miss the sight of you emptying your guts on the ground, but not quite fast enough to be spared the sounds of you retching. They were loud. Joel Miller was known to be a largely imperturbable force around these parts, but even he was made to feel queasy hearing that. Out of habit, he clapped his hand to his own gut and stumbled off. He stared at the bar, then at his car, then at the gravel crushed under his feet for what felt like the longest time. Then his gaze lingered to his lower half, and he thought:

‘Please, please don’t gimme no daughters. Please.’

He was forty-five. The time for making babies and raising daughters to be anything like a woman of your ilk was probably long past him. All the same, he kept his gaze on his crotch and sighed. Balls, you better not betray me.

When he heard the crunch of rocks, he turned around.

“HEY!”

Oh, no. No. Not tonight.

You were staggering to your car, keys in hand.

“Hey!” Joel called again, jogging after you.

It seemed the second shout had done him no more favors than the first. You were fumbling to get the key inside the door, and you looked as determined as ever.

Over your shoulder, you tossed back, careless:

“You ain’t the boss of me, Tommy Miller.”

You got the key to turn. You opened the door. You were just about to climb inside what looked to Joel to be the ugliest Dodge Ram pickup he’d seen in his life, when he grabbed your arm.

“It’s Joel,” he growled. Pinching your elbow tight as he tugged it back, “And you ain’t driving anywhere tonight.”

Somewhere in front of him, tilted away from his line of vision, you must’ve been grinning, because the next thing he heard from you was the scoff of a laugh.

“Oh yeah?”

Joel flipped you around to face him.

“Yeah,” he snapped.

Feeling a bit like a kid for mimicking your tone.

What were you, twenty-two? Twenty-three? You couldn’t have been a patron of a place like Tipsy Bison for very long, or else he would’ve recognized you tonight.

Then again, you struck him as the type to have had a fake ID since you were fifteen, so he really couldn’t know.

“I’m twenny-wuh-un,” you slurred up at him, exaggerated, once he’d made you step down from the running board and onto the ground. Answering his last unspoken question with the same, sleepy grin as before. Then lifting one of your hands to wag a finger in his face, “I can drink legal anywhere I want to in this country.”

“Not there,” Joel nodded to the interstate.

You looked to where he’d gestured and whistled. Standing and staring, like he had done to his crotch.

“Well fuck me-e!” you said next, dragging out the sound a childish amount, “You the law or somethin’, Mr. Joel?”

“Ain’t no cop.” Joel rolled his eyes.

You kept smiling. Then you turned on your heels.

And instead of trying to climb back into your truck, you sauntered off—in what direction, Joel couldn’t tell. You were more so bumbling about, turning in circles like the world’s most scantily-clad, semi-intoxicated ballerina. And then you stopped. You put your hands on your hips.

“‘Cause I’m the law,” you resumed in a slow, deliberate drawl. The twang you used was mostly feigned, “And you cain’t beat the law. Don’t nobody get away with that, not even a bunch’a Alabama smart alecks, believe you me.”

Joel didn’t know what the fuck you were talking about. The man was Texas born and bred, and you knew it.

He communicated as much by pinning you with a wide, bewildered stare, and something in that seemed to amuse. You stared back, making your eyes bug out too.

“It’s a quote from a movie,” you said, after a beat, “You’ve never seen Fried Green Tomatoes before?”

Joel couldn’t say that he had.

Joel reckoned there was a lot more than just movies he didn’t share in common with you. Miss Twenty-One. Barely a year past the age he’d been when he’d moved out of the house and tried to make a living on his own.

This woman, this girl he saw twirling out in front of him now probably couldn’t pour piss out of a boot with the instructions written on the heel if he’d asked you to. Joel shook his head and moved his feet, frown etching deep.

“Alright, princess. Up.”

You didn’t seem to understand, until he’d lifted you. Up.

You were thrown over his shoulder and carried to a truck much nicer than yours in less than fifteen seconds or so.

“Stinks in here,” you said as soon as he’d set you down.

Then, sniffing the air—and grinning:

“Aw, hell, Miller…you smoke?”

Joel wished he’d said no.

Wished he’d rolled his eyes and told you to pipe down, stop asking him questions. It would’ve made the drive a whole lot easier, and more peaceful. Nowhere near as painful, either, if he were being perfectly honest—the strain in his jeans had already gotten to be more than he could bear, and all you’d asked for was a pack of smokes.

“They call ‘em Cowboy Killers,” you said, matter-of-fact.

“I know what they’re called,” Joel grumbled in reply. Flicking the radio on and hoping to find a tune that would drown out the too-lovely, cloying voice you’d assumed as soon as you thought you might win a cigarette off of him. More chatty now than ever.

And for one, blissful moment, Toby Keith had you beat. The calm was fleeting. As soon as ‘Who’s Your Daddy’ started to drift through the car’s old speakers, you reached across and turned the knob to the left.

“Gross,” you muttered.

“What?”

“Got a light?”

“Blow me.”

Joel’s harsh, clipped tone was deliberate. The way he’d made himself mean—meaner than he’d been around a woman in a long, long time—was a choice. He couldn’t let your faux sweetness win him now. Not after you’d thrown two drinks in his face, mocked his truck, and foreclosed any possibility of getting laid by way of all your publicized infidelity philippics and shit-talking. Giving in to your charms from where you sat in the passenger seat now would only sink him further in his own esteem. Simply put, Joel’s ego couldn’t take it.

“Okie doke,” you said presently. Shrugging.

“Now keep your—HEY!”

Joel nearly swerved his truck off the road and into a ditch. Your deft little hands had slipped into his lap—and started palming his crotch through the denim.

He’d just managed to right the vehicle before jerking a look your way, staring at your hand, then your face:

“What the fuck was that?!”

“You said ‘blow me,’ Joel!” you huffed, and you seriously appeared as distraught as he was, “Sorry for listening!”

Joel grit his teeth with all the force of a cold steel trap.

“You’re fuckin’ nuts.” He gripped the wheel even tighter.

“I’m aware.”

“Where the hell do you live, anyway?”

You told him.

Your hand slipped down to the seat beside him.

And just as Joel let out what felt like the tiniest sigh of relief—he knew where that was, and the address sounded vaguely familiar—he yelped again. This time, he managed to keep control of his truck, but it was hard.

Your fingers had returned, and they were kneading the bulge under his jeans. Joel flushed from head to toe.

He didn’t have so much as half a mind to make you stop. He didn’t want to see you slink back over to your side of the car. But you were twenty-one, and he was forty-five. And you were both under the influence to some degree. And he was driving, for fuck’s sake. Shit like that only worked in dreams—not on a highway in a town like this.

He turned the radio dial to 75. At length, he heard it loud:

‘WHO’S YOUR DADDY? WHO’S YOUR BA-A-A-ABY?’

He saw you cringe.

“C’mon, Joel,” you groaned, “That’s…yuck.”

The fingers of the one hand kept digging, rubbing, but the other reached out and turned the music down again.

Joel shifted in his seat, feeling the pleasure start to bloom from the pit of his stomach, but not wanting to let you off that easy. Briefly, he looked from the road to you.

“What? You got a problem with Toby Keith?”

“I got a problem with anyone sayin’ ‘daddy’ like that.”

You unzipped his fly. Popped the button of his jeans from underneath the soft shelf of belly hanging over it, and held him, finally. You could only cup his erection through his boxers at that point, but the friction was enough to send a shiver through the whole of the old man’s body. He hadn’t been touched like that by a hand that wasn’t his own in…he couldn’t remember how long. He sighed.

“That why you’ve got your hand down the pants of a man old enough to be your father?” Joel quipped.

He couldn’t help it.

Your hand only gripped him tighter. From the passenger seat, you’d leaned over and started crawling. Scowling.

Your knees swiftly planted themselves on the old, upholstered cushion of the bucket seat, and you slipped a touch beneath the waistband of his underwear. With a hand that was smooth and soft and eager to please, you wrapped your fingers around that base and leaned in.

“You sound like you want me to say it,” you whispered.

Under your hand, he pulsed. His gaze stayed on the road.

“Don’t make no difference to me, sweet pea,” he said, and was amazed how even he was able to keep his tone:

“But those ‘Cowboy Killers’ you wanted…”

Your fingers curled tighter. Your head sank lower.

“…they don’t come cheap, y’know.”

Oh, you knew. He saw a smile snag at the corners of your lips as you brought them to his lap, and he had to force himself to look at the road again. It was empty and dark.

The tarmac stretched out for days. The fields rolling past warned sternly, ‘Don’t let her win,’ and something more in between each tree seemed to invite deliberation—remembrance, maybe. Joel was far too focused on the feel of your mouth to give the woods a second thought.

You’d worked the first inch between your lips in a slick, obscene sort of kiss; you made room for just the head and then toyed with a bead of precum leaking out of his slit. You licked it, squeezed the shaft in your hand, and hummed while the first real moan rumbled through him.

Joel turned to putty with just that flick of your tongue. He didn’t have to see your face to know he was losing.

On the wheel, his grip grew tighter, and he choked out:

“Ain’t your fuckin’ lollypop, kid.”

Then, dropping one hand to push down on your head—make you take him to the back of your throat in one go.

“Daddy wants you to suck him like a big girl, hear?”

At the base of his cock, he felt you gag. From the bottom of his heart, Joel knew there was no sound sweeter than that. He ran his fingers over your skull and tapped gently.

“If you want those smokes,” he told you—and really, with all the warmth and moisture of your mouth enveloping him now, he’d had to try to sound rougher than he was, “You’re gonna do what daddy says and suck him right.”

You gagged again, then squeezed his denim-clad leg with the hand that wasn’t wrapped around his member.

Joel yanked you by your hair and made you look up.

Your cheeks were already smeared with spit and tears. Much to his surprise, he found your eyes alight and soft.

Suffused with desire, too, from what he could see.

“Yes, daddy.” You grinned up at him.

Joel knew if he let your gaze stay on his a second longer now he’d either crash his car, blow his load, or fall in love—and he simply refused to let you succeed on any of those fronts, so he shoved your face back down.

You sucked him obediently. Greedily. Mouth growing more pliant and wet by the second, as if your jaw and salivary glands had contrived to get him as close to release as possible, as quickly as they were able.

Joel took a left onto a road he had only a dim recognition as being connected to yours, and he got that feeling again. You were bobbing your head, taking him further, flattening your tongue along the bottom of his member when his pleasure swelled inside him. At the same time, he felt a sense of dread. His hands were shaking on the wheel. He didn’t dare steal a look down to the sweet, soaked, perfect little mouth sucking him dry, because he knew that feeling would only strike twice as hard. He had to cum, or make you stop, or bring his truck to a halt.

As it was, he felt five tiny crescents sink into his thigh as you gripped him tighter, and a noise bubbled up in your mouth. Your breathing went shallow, and your lips stretched wide—you were trying, and succeeding, in deep-throating his thick, throbbing, much-too-old-for-a-girl-her-age member down close to your windpipe, and Joel could feel it. He hit his blinker, not thinking, and saw a sign that marked your street. Trepidation hit him again.

Fully, this time, in a feeling that was more like terror.

He didn’t have another second to question it, either. By the time he had the old, lone farmhouse in his sights and his heart nearly halfway up his throat with fear, your own throat pulsed, and opened the last two inches to him in. Your nose found their home in the rough, grey, wiry hairs at the base of his belly, having swallowed him whole, and Joel quickly sensed the start of what he knew too well.

He came down your throat in one, two, three, four, five long spurts, and didn’t let his foot off the gas even once.

He saw your house, approaching closer now, and paled.

No fucking way.

You’d wanted to skip the whole way up your drive.

Spit still drying on your cheeks, cum resting comfortably in your belly, and a smile as bright as the sun on your face as you waved to the F-150 pulling off toward the road, you’d never felt more alive—or smug—in your life.

“Is your dad…Lucien Flores?” Joel had asked no more than a second after his dick slipped out of your mouth.

“The one and only.”

Somehow, his face got even paler. His jaw visibly clenched, and his palm hit the top of the wheel. Hard.

It was then that you’d learned your father had hired Joel Miller on as a full-time ranch hand sometime last week.

He’d remembered the address, vaguely, but didn’t connect the dots until he’d pulled up in front of your house and damn near punctured your windpipe with his pulsing dick from how fast he’d jumped up—and cum.

His spend had almost shot through your nose with the force of it, but you didn’t mind. Once he’d revealed the wild, gory, and admittedly hilarious details of his newfound employment, you were too busy laughing your ass off to care if he’d torn your throat in two with his dick.

“So you really are a cowboy, then,” you’d said, giggling.

Joel had scowled. Rolled his eyes. Practically turned the color of a tomato when you leaned in and kissed him.

Now you were waving to him from your front door.

Joel’s truck was slow to go. The taste of him was fresh.

And there, weighing light in your back pocket while you said goodbye was a brand new pack of Marlboro Reds.

2:21 AM

You were safely in bed. You checked your phone.

Aside from fourteen missed calls, you saw:

1:09 AM – Maria

DUDE

1:09 AM

TOMMY JUST CAME HOME

1:09 AM

THAT’S NOT HIM AT THE BAR

1:13 AM

IT’S JUST JOEL!! HIS BROTHER!!!

1:13 AM

ABORT ABORT ABORT

1:42 AM

DAVE SAID YOU BEAT JOEL UP???? CALL ME

1:54 AM – Dave York

Ur gonna fuck that old dude aren’t u

[ferrarirossa]

𝓻𝓮𝓭 𝓵𝓲𝓴𝓮 𝓾

pairing: charles leclerc x fem!reader

warnings: 18+ smut/NSFW, oral sex (m receiving), unprotected sex, squirting, cursing, size kink

summary: three words: Red. Like. Passion. But red is also the color of the car driven by Charles. Red is your lingerie, as red as your dirty thoughts about the Ferrari driver…

author’s note: do not copy or give credits

The smell of alcohol, loud music, people crowded together, temperature too high: the definition of a busy night. A night in Monaco meant this to you. Boundless fun and one-night stands with whoever came along.

After your breakup with your ex-boyfriend, your sweet and delicate personality has transformed into hate and lust personified. Temptress with your gaze, you conquer every boy who looks into your eyes, driving him crazy.

This one night seems long and empty just like the others. You enter the club, approach the bar counter, and ask for a Bloody Mary. The bartender can’t take his eyes off of you because of how gorgeous you look this evening.

With your cocktail in your hands, you wander around the place feeling observed differently than on other nights. You begin to feel in awe, your skin begins to sweat for no reason. You turn around to understand the reason for all this, and you are struck by a pair of sea-colored eyes that study every curve of your body highlighted by the red silk dress you are wearing.

Brown hair. Ice eyes. Sexy body under the black shirt that struggles to contain his muscles. Who is this man? His appearance seems familiar, but you had never noticed him in the different clubs you frequent almost every night, you would have noticed his gaze and his charm.

So you decide to move in his direction casually. You walk past him and look at him with cat eyes and out of the corner of your eye, you notice him getting up from the sofa where he was sitting just a few seconds ago, following you to the bar counter. When you’re about to ask for a second drink, you hear a familiar voice say: “I’ll pay for the young lady, she’s with me, thank you”.

You turn towards him, meeting his gaze directly toward your breasts. To attract his attention you say in a confident voice: “Oh yes? So are we together? Is today our anniversary by any chance?”

The sound of his laughter sends a shiver of pleasure down your spine. His aura of mystery makes you moisten between your thighs. No one had ever succeeded until now. “Who are you? Why do you seem to already have a place in my mind if I have never met you?” you think in your mind. “So what are you waiting for to drink? Are you going to stare at me all night, princess?” he says, smiling mischievously and moving his gaze toward your thighs pressed together.

Suddenly your favorite song comes on from the speakers so you take his hands, take him to the center of the dance floor, and start purposely seducing him with your sexy moves. You notice his gaze moving toward your hips and then looking at your ass every time you turn your back to him while dancing.

The atmosphere gets hotter and hotter until the sound of his sensual voice reaches your eardrums as he whispers: “How about we go away for a while, princess?”

That nickname drives you crazy, it makes you even wetter and more in need of finding out everything about the man whose name you don’t even know. Placing his hand on the lower part of your shoulder, he guides you toward the exit in a confident manner, leading you to his car.

You can’t believe your eyes: it’s a Ferrari 488 Pista, titanium-colored with a livery featuring red and white stripes reminiscent of the Monaco flag. You already saw that car before. With his hand, he motions for you to get into the car. Still shocked, you enter and observe the interior of it, just as beautiful as the owner. As you look around, you fall into the swirls of his eyes, now just millimeters away from you, which immediately bring you back to earth. Then, without asking, he starts attacking your mouth with his kisses.

You immediately turn your head slightly to allow him access to your neck. You feel his teeth on your sensitive flesh stimulating your pleasure, your nipples stiffen, and your hands tighten on the leather of the seat. His hands instead roam all over your body, exploring every area still covered by the soft fabric of your dress, which is slowly becoming more and more wrinkled due to the contact with his powerful body.

He leaves two purple marks on your neck, you still feel his warm breath near your earlobe. Without wasting time, you bring your delicate hands near the zip of his pants. You too, without asking, slowly unbutton it, until you glimpse a protuberance trapped in his Calvin Klein boxers.

Without speaking, you look him in the eyes and he responds with a nod of approval, encouraging you to continue. You quickly lower his boxers below his knees and take out his cock, already full of pulsating veins visible from afar due to how excited he is. This vision makes you feel so horny that you let out a moan of pleasure without him touching you.

You begin to move your fingers up and down his length, and then focus more on his head with circular movements. With your other hand, you stimulate his testicles so that he dies from the pleasure of having you. Watching his head go back in pleasure and his moans mixed with excitement and lust sends you into ecstasy. You bring your mouth closer to his cock, first licking it lightly and then suddenly taking it all in your mouth until it reaches your throat. This sends him into a frenzy, so much so that he can no longer feel his legs. You watch his abdomen contract and his moans become louder and louder as he holds your hair forcefully, pulling it slightly toward him to make his cock go as deep as possible into your throat.

He cums all over your mouth and hands. You look at him with eyes full of appetite and continuing to look at him you lick all the liquid from him, tasting it and swallowing it. This gesture drives him crazy enough to tear your dress and then throw it somewhere. He is shocked by the color of your lingerie. Fiery red like blood, like the stitching of the seats of his Ferrari, like the sex you are about to have. Quite violently he turns you around to unbutton your lace bra. Your lush breasts enchant him, enough to invite him to leave hickeys right next to your nipples. Your cries of pain infused with cries of pleasure are music to his ears, his favorite tune. He leaves hickeys all over your abdomen until he reaches your inner thighs. He looks at you with his icy gaze for a second, then takes your thong with his teeth and pulls it down until your crotch is exposed.

He enters you without any warning, enough to make you scream so loudly that the people outside the club look around. Luckily the windows of his Ferrari are tinted to hide the obscenities you are doing inside. His pace is fast like his car, his moans resemble the roar of an engine. Together you create perfect music, harmonious notes that blend with the noise of your flash making contact. As he moves inside you he bites your earlobe and moves to your right collarbone. You have never been so at peace. For the first time, you forget all the pain of your past, this man is magical. His cock adheres perfectly to the walls of your vagina. “Fuck you’re so tight, you're perfect for me, princess”. You can’t even answer him, you can only let out a moan of pleasure. Suddenly you feel a knot in your stomach getting stronger and stronger and then you cum hard like never before. “This man is phenomenal”, you think. After a few seconds, he also cums for the second time, still shouting how wonderful you are.

“So? Don’t you ask my name?” he says. “Is it possible that you don’t remember me, princess?”. Immediately that nickname, his voice, his toned muscles, and his icy eyes come back to your mind. It's Charles Leclerc. The famous Formula 1 driver. Your first meeting? A night of fire like this. You have tried to track him down but since so much time has passed you lost all hopes. “Charles,” you say, your pupils widening as does your smile. “I have never forgotten you, princess”. “I hope you can forgive me, it took me a long time to find you, but here we are, perfect as we were that night, made for each other”. With eyes full of tears, you lie down on the seat starting to fantasize about a future together, about a life full of red and love.

[formulawolff]

celebratory drinks - f.a.

pairing: journalist!reader x aston martin!fernando alonso

word count: 938

warnings: a little bit of cursing, nando being a flirt, alcohol use (the champagne pop), references to alcohol consumption

song inspo for the fic: sky walker (feat. travis scott) by miguel, travis scott (i just think this one is so nando coded)

"there he is," your voice is clear, yet your hand trembles as you grasp the microphone, "i think now is my moment. there's no one else approaching him."

"well what are you waiting for?" camren, your trusty videographer and assistant whispers, "go, go, go get him!"

"okay, okay!" your jaw clenches, the words barely making it out of gritted teeth.

before you stands spanish driver fernando alonso, donned in his signature aston martin fire suit. it's gorgeous emerald hue is darker than usual, dampened by the champagne showers. his dark locks are dripping, sticking to the back of his neck underneath his cap.

yet, he's as gorgeous as ever, stubble ghosting along his jawline, his brows knit in concentration as he speaks with lance stroll, his fellow driver and teammate.

you take a step forward, swallowing the lump in your throat. it was now or never. the perfect window to interview him for only a few minutes before he would be whisked away to the designated media room for the post-race press debrief.

"mr. alonso!" you call, "is it all right if i speak with you for a few minutes? i won't take up too much of your time."

at the sight of you, the corners of his lips curl upward into a radiant grin, "of course! i'm in no rush, actually. you can stall me a little before i have to go debrief."

a giggle bubbles up in your throat as you tap your badge, "although i do have a media badge, i do want let you know that this is going to be a very relaxed, very informal interview. i run a youtube channel that covers all things formula one. we talk a lot about you, actually."

"oh?" he arches a brow, "is that right?"

heat billows into your cheeks as you realize what you just blurted out. in front of one of your idols, no less. yet, you don't sense discomfort from the driver. if anything, he seemed more intrigued, his eyes taking you in as you sucked in a breath.

"well, we're doing a bit about your history with formula one," your voice is tad shaky, but you regain your confidence as he nods enthusiastically, "and of course, we're currently covering your time with aston martin. so, i wanted you to tell me if there was anything unique about your experience with aston martin thus far."

the driver blinks, processing your question for a moment. he brings a hand to his chin, shrugging slightly, "i think i can say that this team has been able to welcome me in with open arms. i'm sure you know that there is a lot of talk in the world of formula one with my age and all that, but they have been nothing but accepting and supportive."

"what has been your favorite moment of the season thus far? anything exciting or funny you'd like to share with us? also, when are you going to bring back that infamous celebratory dance?"

at the mention of the dance, there's a glimmer in his eye, "oh, so you know about that?"

"of course i do," you affirm, "our channel is dedicated to the history of formula one. i'm supposed to know it all, from the historical wins to the celebration dances."

"i can recreate it for you if you would like," he offers, his shoulders relaxing, he points to the camera, earning a laugh from camren, "here, watch this."

he pinches his shoulder blades together, raising his arms so that his elbows and wrists were angled. he sways back and forth, maintaining eye contact with the camera lens.

you can't help but laugh, the sound ringing out, "you're pretty ridiculous, mr. alonso."

"please," fernando waves a hand, "no need for the formalities bullshit. call me fernando."

"all right, fernando," you beam, "well, i think that's all i have for you. i didn't want to keep you for too long. i know you're a busy man."

that's when the driver pauses, taking a second to really look at you. his gaze rakes over your body, his tongue swiping along your lower lip.

for the race, you opted for a comfortable yet sort of glam look. on your top half, you sported a plain black t-shirt, the material a breathable cotton. denim jeans stretched down your legs, a mom-jean like style so that the thick fabric didn't cling to your frame. to compliment the shirt, you wore a black belt, pairing it with black adidas sambas. your hair was pulled into an updo, so that it wouldn't be all over the place or unkempt from the breezy conditions.

"you can come interview me whenever you would like," his tone shifts, his voice a little lower than it was moments before, "actually, how come you didn't question me sooner? i would've loved to see your gorgeous face around the paddock."

"like i said," your heart skips a beat, "you're a busy man, fernando."

"not busy enough for a gorgeous woman like you," he flirts, and you were sure your knees buckled at the statement, "what are you doing later?"

your eyes drift over to camren, who luckily had paused the recording, "i'm not too sure, why?"

"because i would love to take you out and buy you a couple of shots. to celebrate, you know."

"you're the one who was on the podium. if anything, i should be the one buying you shots," you fold your arms across your chest.

"oh no," he shakes his head, "no need."

"and why is that?" your brows furrow.

"because beautiful women don't buy their own drinks."

[sturniyolos]

[song]Producer!Matt SFW + NSFW headcannons. 🎀

SFW 💍

- prod!matt who would use your laugh as his producer tag.

“Baby, stop!” You say giggling as Matt tries to tackle you down.

“Let me kiss you.” Matt states, pinning you down. He had accidently left his phone recording to send snippets to his artist, before you came in. Then, the pure sensation of your laugh made a lightbulb go off in Matt’s mind— and that’s how he wanted everyone to know it was his song; by your laugh.

- prod!matt who would let you have little snippets of his new songs, asked for your opinions, and even gave him some feedback.

“What about this one?” Matt asks, playing ‘NC-17’ by Travis Scott ft 21 Savage. You started to listen to it, the song already becoming your favorite. But, you started to make faces that Matt became self-conscious about.

“Ah shit, you don’t like it?” He asks, pausing the music right away.

“Noooo, I love it. I just— there’s something off about it.” You say, trying to grasp what you can do to change it.

“Have any suggestions?” Matt asks, holding your hand as you swing side by side in the chair.

“H-how about you have the hidden vocals a little bit higher where the autotune is? I feel like that would do the job.” You state, looking at Matt with doe eyes.

He does exactly what you say and you both listen back to it. It sounds even better than what was put originally.

“You’re such a smart girl, sweetheart.” He says, grabbing your hand and kissing it.

- prod!matt who lets you sit there and watch while his artists record lines.

“Maybe have a higher pitch on that one part, yeah? And then we’ll see which ones we like better.” Matt states, letting go of the button so the person in the booth can’t hear him anymore. Matt looks back at you, sitting on the couch with your IPad coloring.

“You okay?” He asks, walking over. He puts his pointer finger on your chin so you can look up at him.

“Mhm.” You hum.

He kisses your head and makes his way over his chair again. He knew he worked better when you were just there to keep him company.

- prod!matt who let you play around with the buttons that was for the recording booth.

“And what does this do?” You ask, curious.

“That makes your pitch go high or low, I usually use the low pitch at the end of songs.” He explains.

“And this one?” You point to the yellow button that can go up and down.

“This one’s your favorite— autotune.” He says, looking at you.

“Go in there! I wanna test it out.” You state, getting all excited.

He rolls his eyes but still makes his way into the booth. You guys spent your whole day fucking around with the autotune settings, singing awfully on his machine.

NSFW 💐

- prod!matt who would use your moans secretly in the back of songs.

“M-Matt, please.” You say as quiet as you’ve ever been. He was pounding you from the back as you both stood infront of the booth.

“Yeah? What do you want, hm? Be louder.” He says, pulling out his phone to record you. You make eye contact with his phone, but nothing comes out but moans. He smiles as you let out two specific moans and gave him the idea to use it in a song. [think P power by Gunna]

A couple days later, Matt releases the song— you listen to it, hearing specific moans being played in the song.

“Mattttt.” You walk into the studio, with the song pulled up on your phone.

“You like hearing your moans? Because I do.” He asks, looking down at you.

“You could’ve picked prettier moans.” You say, all sad.

“Just say you want me to fuck you again.”

- prod!matt who eats you out as a reward to staying in the booth all day long.

Your hands grip Matt’s curls. Legs spread open, your whole bottom half exposed. He looks up at you and smirks, knowing he’s got you.

“You’re so good for me baby, look at you.” He said, rubbing your clit.

“B-baby, I’m gonna c-oh my God.” You say throwing your head back.

“Do it. Cum on my face baby. You waited so long for me, you deserve it my love.” He states, putting his whole face into your heat.

His words are what did it for you as you finish, panting and breathless.

“My pretty girl, let me clean you up.” He states, moving his knees to the couch to kiss you.

- prod!matt who punishes you for being too impatient on waiting for him.

“F-fuck! I’m s-sorry.” You state, trying to pull Matt off of you as you couldn’t take him anymore. You were on your 3rd orgasm of the night— you were overstimulated, sweating, and drooling everywhere.

“Oh, now you wanna be sorry? Ion think you learned your lesson.” He says condescendingly, kissing the arch where your back curves in. Then, slapping you ass so hard it’ll for sure leave a mark tomorrow.

“Wanna act like a brat and whine every second? I’ll fuck you like a brat.” He says, pulling your hair back as you reach your 4th orgasm.

- prod!matt who gets constantly teased when you’re not with him at the studio.

You

*Attatchment: 1 image*

I’m waiting for you babyyyyy.

Matt

Bro I’m still here and you got me hard as fuck

You

Aw, that’s too baddd

Matt

So, you really tryna lose your ability to walk tonight?

You

Actions speak louder than words

Matt

I’ll be home in 10, be ready for me

You

Drive safe <3

*Attachment: 3 images*

- prod!matt who lets you cockwarm him while he’s making his music.

You’ve been on Matt’s dick for 20 minutes at this point, begging for a release. Matt would be lying if he said he wasn’t begging either.

You told him you’d behave if you got to sit on his length, but your wetness dripping down your lower thighs to his wasn’t helping.

“I know you wanna ride baby.” He states, whispering in your ear.

“I p-promised I’d be good.” You said sighing in defeat.

“You’ve shown me you’re a good girl. Now go— show me how bad you’ve been cravin’ this shit.” He says, choking you from behind.

You start to bounce on his cock, moans filling up the room quickly.

“Fuck— you’re g’na make me cum already.” He says, holding your hips to guide you up and down his member.

“Where do you want me to cum, mama?” He asks.

“I-in me. Don’t pull out, please. I want e-every drop.” You say, whining.

“Such a dirty girl.” He whispers in your ear, giving you one hard thrust that makes him fill you up, and what makes you squirt all over his bottom half.

- prod!matt who lets you give him head when he’s stressed.

You get on your knees and look up at hm.

“C’mon baby, I gotta finish this song by tonight. Trilly gon’ whoop my ass if I don’t-” He says, cupping your face with his big hand.

“Let me just help you relieve some stress, I promise I’ll be quick.” You say, cutting him off and smiling up at him.

He lets you take control as you unbutton his pants, seeing the print of his member in his underwear. You kiss the outline of the tip, making Matt hiss.

You take the underwear off of him and immediately get to work. You take the base of his cock and start sucking on the tip.

He moans as a response, creating a makeshift ponytail so he can see your pretty face.

“Can I fuck your face, please?” He asks, becoming submissive.

You nod, letting him hover over the chair and fuck your face until you start crying.

“F-fuck yes.”

“Y-you take me so well.”

You make him sit back down, and shoving his whole dick down your throat.

“Mmmmm, c-cumming— fucking sh-.” He exclaims, letting loose and having his whole warm load in your mouth. You show him your tongue filled with his kids, swallowing it, and showing him your mouth empty.

“You make me so crazy.” He grabs your throat and kisses you.

——————————————————————————

I saw someone on here saying they wanted a prod!matt fanfics but I forgot their user :-( . Hopefully they find this lol.

[percyluvr]

hello!! you're fics r amazing and i wanted to request some hc or a drabble, you choose, about fem!reading being the head counselor of hermes cabin and totally being his fem version. thank u so much if u do 🫶🏻🫶🏻

percy jackson x hermes cabin counselor!reader summary: hcs abt percy with hermes counselor reader basically being him but as a girl

first, i think u two would be inseparable

like im talking sitting at each others tables during meals, training together all the time, sneaking off to go make out in his cabin when u really should be leading camp activities, sleeping in each other's cabins, etc etc

im just thinking of the iconic percabeth underwater kiss with u guys

with him using his powers to make sure u can breathe while u kiss, and teeth clashing together making u guys just giggle ur little hearts out

when u two go back to nyc for the school year u would live with him, sally, and paul and they would treat u like their own kid

they see how much percy likes you and how similar you two are and they cant help but think of u as one of their own

hanging out in nyc together, he teaches u how to skateboard bc he DEFINITELY knows how to

adding onto that, he would definitely teach u how to surf if u didnt know how

just thinking about if u also have the same music taste, u two dancing around the kitchen to ur favorite songs

making brownies together for estelle's school bake sales in the future!!! my heart omfg

back to camp, i think everyone would be worried if they ever saw u two not together

like im talking celebrity break up gossip page type all up in ur business

but then they see one of you sneaking out of the same place the other one just walked out of and they realize that u two were just trying to be sneaky???

but why

bc really u two have never been sneaky in ur entire lives

if either of u got picked to lead a quest, u would immediately pick the other as the first person to come with on ur quest bc u literally cannot live without each other

FINISHING EACH OTHERS JOKES

or just sentences in general

literally couple goals

like, if someone is talking to both of u, sometimes you'll make the same joke at the exact same time and laugh ur asses off and the other person will just like. stand there staring until they eventually just walk away bc u two wont stop laughing

like i just think u two are on the same wavelength all the time

if one of u forgets to do something, u dont even have to worry bc the other already did it for u

i saw somewhere that leo could probably tweak phones so the demigods can use them, and u two would both go to him to get phones so u could make each other ur lockscreen and background

i think the two of u would send each other the DUMBEST tiktoks or instagram reels

or like u would send it and then realize that the other already sent it or liked it

the two of u would definitely do tiktok trends

dancing together

u would DEFINITELY do the peeling the orange trend

and he would just peel the orange. no questions asked

like u wouldnt even have to ask him

he'd just see u with the orange be like "here baby give me that, i'll peel it for you"

SCREAMING HES SO BF

matching tiktok pfps for SURE

or matching bios !!!!!

u two definitely went to see the barbie movie together

i have no doubts

whenever he gets pranked by connor or travis, u immediately send them to laundry duty

but they still say its worth it because one time when u were sleeping in percy's room, they poured water on the two of u and both of u chased them around camp until u realized that percy had no shirt, and u had no pants

u werent THAT embarrassed bc like. everyone already knows anyway

but the stolls thought it was SO funny and they made it their mission to prank both of u again

when u two go on cabin inspections, even if u arent doing it together, u always give each other's cabin a 10 even tho u both know that neither of ur cabins deserve it ....

the two of u definitely sneak out of ur cabins at night when u arent together and sit down by the river, just to be met with the other sitting there with the exact same thought as u

and u end up going back to his cabin to sleep

u guys have definitely gotten yelled at by mr d and chiron

but u kept doing it

so they just gave up

but anyways, u guys r literally the it couple at camp

like, all the couples wanna be like u guys

ur just such a perfect fit & u love each other so much and u cant help but show it

a/n: this was my first time doing hcs and i think i kinda got a bit carried away... but anyways i hope u like it !! also, i love writing and im so happy that u like mine, it means so much to me <3

[storiesforallfandoms]

Masterlist 3!

Here’s the third masterlist for all of my works! If you want to check out more of my work, here’s the links for masterlist one and masterlist two Imagines marked * are smutty imagines! Imagines marked ` are requests! Imagines marked ⭐ are personal favorites!

IMAGINES

STRANGER THINGS small ~ jim hopper` dance with me ~ eddie munson ⭐ starry night ~ steve harrington* (part five) ⭐ at the hip ~ steve harrington` ⭐ triple date ~ steve harrington (part six) ⭐ the freak ~ steve harrington (part seven) ⭐ oblivious ~ eddie munson ⭐ jason doesn’t know ~ eddie munson ⭐ this is music ~ eddie munson` ⭐

SUPERNATURAL strange human feelings ~ castiel` cleaning ~ dean winchester`

HANNIBAL into fiction` sob story ~ hannibal lecter

THE BOYS obsession ~ billy butcher* ⭐ herogasm ~ soldier boy* ⭐ alone on christmas ~ billy butcher can’t get too close ~ billy butcher ⭐ change in a heartbeat ~ billy butcher ⭐ the bad room ~ homelander ⭐

THE UMBRELLA ACADEMY life father ~ diego hargreeves` rescue mission ~ klaus hargreeves’ ⭐

THE LAST OF US (HBO) friendly neighbors ~ joel miller ⭐ too sweet ~ joel miller

BARRY attraction ~ barry berkman` treat him better ~ barry berkman

AMERICAN HORROR STORY late night sins ~ xavier plympton (1984)*`

VICTORIOUS lost dog ~ tori vega` junker ~ beck oliver

HEMLOCK GROVE i don’t ever wanna see you with him ~ roman godfrey ⭐

THE VAMPIRE DIARIES roses are red ~ damon salvatore` ⭐

OUR FLAG MEANS DEATH captive ~ blackbeard/ed teach ⭐

PEAKY BLINDERS moved on ~ thomas shelby

FUTURE MAN winner ~ josh futturman* ⭐

GAME OF THRONES littlest lion ~ oberyn martell (part one) ⭐ freedom ~ oberyn martell (part two) ⭐

THE WITCHER destiny ~ geralt of rivia

DOCTOR WHO looks of a princess ~ eleventh doctor ⭐

BRIDGERTON by the lake ~ benedict bridgerton

THE GENTLEMEN the assistant ~ raymond smith ⭐

PIRATES OF THE CARIBBEAN spirit of nature ~ jack sparrow`

THE MAZE RUNNER i’ll keep you safe ~ newt`

MARVEL how things are now ~ marc spector and steven grant` ⭐ kneel ~ loki* the most wonderful time ~ bucky barnes fast ~ pietro maximoff ⭐

1917 early morning ~ will schofield*`

THE UNBEARABLE WEIGHT OF MASSIVE TALENT happy birthday ~ javi gutierrez ⭐

FIVE NIGHTS AT FREDDY’S i need someone older ~ william afton ⭐ the ice cream girl ~ mike schmidt

SALTBURN new toy ~ felix catton ⭐ partners ~ oliver quick ⭐

THE SANTA CLAUSE santa’s sister-in-law ~ bernard the elf

8 MILE one of the guys ~ jimmy smith jr ⭐

THE FALL GUY the space cowboy and the pa ~ tom ryder

A QUIET PLACE i’d find you in any life ~ eric ⭐

GLADIATOR II betrothed ~ emperor geta ⭐

PETE DAVIDSON your gift` favoritism`

HARRY STYLES the perfect tree a star in the making` sleepy head`

MACHINE GUN KELLY baby mama` ⭐ my queen*` getting your attention*` all the mistakes` not what it looks like` can’t keep doing this*`

EMINEM may the best artist win*` too close for comfort` ⭐ when it’s wrong but it feels right` in the dressing room*` he’s acting different` we have to stop meeting like this` every inch*` let’s surprise the world` i’m sorry i let you down`

GOODGUYFITZ wake up call*`

CORPSE HUSBAND letting go` they forgot` ⭐

ASHTON IRWIN home life` cover me*`

CONAN GRAY pushing`

MATTHEW LILLARD accidental drunk confessions`

JOHNNY KNOXVILLE feeling good*`

ALEX TURNER more than a song*` ⭐

BO BURNHAM can’t handle this right now ⭐ look at me*`

KRISTEN STEWART special customer`

TARON EGERTON he already has my approval ⭐

ROBERT PATTINSON my favorite superhero

GERARD WAY good girl*`

GWILYM LEE history repeats itself`

RYAN GOSLING play date`

JOSEPH QUINN bad idea, right? ⭐

RANBOO fluffy haired gamer boy`

JACOB ELORDI height advantage`

MOTLEY CRUE she is mine ~ mick mars`

CHRIS EVANS not used to normal` ⭐

SWAGGERSOULS our next step`

JSCHLATT too far ⭐ the hotel room* ⭐

JOHNNY DEPP just for us`

TRAVIS BARKER the parent trap`

SHIPS

family reunion ~ hermione granger x draco malfoy`

HEADCANONS

showing pedro pascal fan edits ⭐ sitting on jschlatt’s lap ⭐

NSFW ALPHABET

rook (jp capellette)*` eddie munson* ⭐ billy butcher* ⭐

[amethystarachnid]

Hey! If your taking requests, I love your work so much and I had an idea I would really love to see how you execute it.

So it would be with Tony Stark, and if its okay Male!Reader, but not romantic, the reader is a teen who is a product of some old fling Tony had and after being poorly taken care of by his mom (whatever that inclines you to write, abuse, bad boyfriend, alcoholism etc.) She dumps him off at stark tower with a note and what little belongings the reader has and his birth certificate to Tony for him to take care of. And the rest of what happens from there is up to you! Basically heavy on the found family troupe, and a little angst with some good fluff. The reader can be from 16-18 still in high school. He has Tony's sarcastic humor and smarts, but he nodes his intelligence because his mom never really helped him appreciate it, basically one of those kids that gets straight A's without seemingly trying and looking kind of stupid, the reader is quiet and a bit cold but that's because of how he was raised, and isn't one to share how he's feeling. If you can do this I'd be so thankful, if not its completely understandable, I hope I gave you enough creative liberty to make it fun, I know it'll be great if you do write it! Again I love your fics so much and I can't wait to read more of what you have!!💜☺

LEGACY

⤷ ANTHONY “TONY” E. STARK

ᯓ★ Pairing: Anthony “Tony” E. Stark x male!reader

ᯓ★ Genre: platonic!, a lot of angst and some fluff

ᯓ★ Request from: normal request

ᯓ★ Story type: one shot

ᯓ★ Word count: 5.5k

ᯓ★ Summary: literally what the ask said

ᯓ★ TW(s): mentions of abusive household and rader feeling like people keep abandoning him

ᯓ★ Thank you so much for your request and for liking my work! <3

ᯓ★ My Masterlist

ᯓ★ MARVEL Multiverse - choose an AU, pair it with your favorite character and make a request!

ᯓ★ Songs & Superheroes tales - The Game (to make a request, follow the rules on the link!)

ᯓ★ MARVEL Bingo

ᯓ★ English isn’t my first language

Your whole life, you’ve never known stability. The cramped apartments, the ever-shifting walls painted in hues of desperation, are as familiar to you as your own skin. You’re seventeen now, but you still feel like you’re stuck in this never-ending carousel of uncertainty and survival. Your mom—who’s always been more into herself than anyone else—has a way of shoving her problems under the rug, sweeping you along with the mess until you’re barely holding it together.

Her boyfriend—if you could even call him that—is the latest problem. Travis is the kind of guy who doesn’t need to say much to make his point clear. It’s in the way he takes up space, fills every room with his presence, making himself the center of your lives as if it’s his right. He started coming around when you were fourteen, and it’s only gotten worse. You know he hates you, and he doesn’t even try to hide it. To him, you’re a nuisance, some extra baggage he never asked for, and he’s got no problem reminding you of that. Your sarcasm and quick wit, the things that make you, you, are just more reasons for him to snap, roll his eyes, or call you ungrateful.

Your mom’s always been…complicated. You’ve known that since you were little, watching her go from one relationship to another, always searching for some kind of validation she never seems to find. She calls herself a free spirit, but it’s like she’s just drifting, lost in a fog of her own making. She can be fun, sure, when things are good. There were even moments when you thought she really loved you. But as time went on, you learned to read the signs: the distant glances, the subtle irritations, the way she avoids looking at you for too long, as if you’re some kind of mirror she doesn’t want to face.

It’s your intelligence that bugs her the most, you think. You see through her, every lie, every excuse, every careless decision. And she knows it. It’s like looking into a warped mirror—she can see pieces of herself in you, but you’re everything she’s never been: sharp, observant, with a mind that doesn’t let things slide. And it grates on her.

The fights get worse as you grow older, each one escalating faster than the last. Your sarcasm is your armor, your way of dealing with the endless cycle of disappointment. But every quip, every clever retort, only makes her angrier. You can tell she hates that she can’t control you, can’t manipulate you the way she does with everyone else in her life. She calls you difficult, a burden, a mistake she should’ve never had. You don’t let it show, but each word leaves a scar, another reminder that you’re on your own.

Then one day, it’s too much. Travis and your mom are fighting—again. It’s loud, voices echoing in the small apartment, and you’re in your room, trying to block it out like usual. But this time, you hear your name. You’ve been in this situation enough to know that’s never a good sign. So, you stay quiet, waiting, listening.

“You know he’s not even mine, right?” Travis snaps, his voice dripping with frustration. “Why do I have to put up with this kid? He’s not my responsibility!”

“You think I don’t know that?” Your mom’s voice is strained, like she’s barely holding on herself. “I’ve tried—God, I’ve tried—but he’s just…he’s too much. I can’t handle it anymore.”

There’s a pause, and for a second, you think maybe she’ll say something else, something that makes it sound like she cares. But the words never come.

“Then get rid of him,” Travis says, so bluntly that it leaves a chill in the air. “You’ve got the kid’s birth certificate. Drop him off at his real dad’s. He’s rich, isn’t he? Let him deal with the brat.”

You don’t move. You barely breathe. But deep down, you already know this is it. There’s no fighting it this time, no clever comment to deflect what’s happening. She’s made her choice, and it’s not you.

The next morning, she’s silent as she hands you an envelope. There’s no apology, no excuse, just a look that tells you she’s already gone, checked out of whatever shred of motherhood she once claimed to have. You don’t even ask where you’re going; you know the answer as soon as you see the address on the piece of paper.

Stark Tower.

It feels like a final act of cruelty, really. The man she’s always refused to talk about, the one figure in your life who’s only ever been a name, and now he’s your last option. Tony Stark. Genius, billionaire, Avenger. And, apparently, your father.

You stand outside Stark Tower with a single bag of your things and that stupid piece of paper—the birth certificate that’s somehow supposed to mean you’re his problem now. You feel like you’re stuck in some cosmic joke, a punchline to a story you didn’t even know you were a part of. There’s no going back, though. That’s clear enough.

So, you take a deep breath, adjust your bag on your shoulder, and walk through the doors.

Tony doesn’t even get a chance to process it at first. One moment he’s sipping coffee in his lab, deep in the flow of something unnecessarily complex that’s keeping his mind busy, and the next, Pepper is calling him down to the lobby. She sounds irritated, stressed—like maybe it’s his fault, which Tony wouldn’t be surprised by, honestly. He heads down, muttering about "another hero here to tell me how to do my job."

Then he sees you.

You’re leaning against the glass wall, wearing an expression that’s somehow familiar yet entirely alien to him. It’s not hard to recognize the mix of defiance and exhaustion in your eyes; he’s spent years perfecting that look himself. But the shock doesn’t really hit until you hand him the birth certificate. Your name and his, right there in black and white, unavoidably real.

For once in his life, Tony Stark is speechless.

“Seventeen years,” he mutters, mostly to himself. “And now you’re here because…?”

You shrug, clearly unimpressed. “Mom didn’t want me anymore, and apparently, you’re my dad. So… here I am. Congratulations.”

You’re blunt, almost cruel in the way you say it, like you don’t expect anything from him and don’t care if you get it. But he can’t look away from you. For the first time in a long time, he’s out of his depth. He’s had seventeen years to know this was possible, maybe even inevitable, but standing in front of you, he realizes he’s never prepared himself for this. He’s never thought about what it would mean to actually be a father.

Yet here you are, standing in front of him with your mother’s words still hanging over you, and he can see the weight you carry in the way your shoulders are always tense, the way your eyes don’t quite meet his.

“Well, kid,” he says after a beat, plastering on his most confident smile, “looks like you’ve officially joined the Stark family. There’s no going back now.”

Over the next few days, Tony throws himself into fatherhood with all the enthusiasm of someone tackling a new, challenging invention. He’s reading parenting books, taking advice from anyone who’ll give it, and trying desperately to crack the code of how to be a “cool dad.” He lets you explore Stark Tower freely, offers you access to his entire workshop, and even builds you a custom tablet, “Stark-style,” he brags, with enough advanced tech to impress even the most skeptical teenager.

He talks to you about science, testing your knowledge and realizing with a mix of pride and horror that you’re nearly as sharp as he was at seventeen. He tries to make jokes, throwing out sarcastic one-liners he assumes will win you over. Sometimes, he even manages to get a smirk out of you. But that’s as far as it ever goes.

Every attempt he makes is met with your icy wall, a defense mechanism built after years of disappointment and neglect. You listen, nod occasionally, but never laugh or even show interest. The most he ever gets out of you is a dry, deadpan “cool,” which is enough to keep him going but never enough to satisfy him.

Tony tries not to take it personally, but it’s hard. You’re right there, his kid, yet you’re worlds away, keeping him at arm’s length as if he’s just another adult you can’t trust. He catches glimpses of the sarcasm, the intelligence, but it’s wrapped up in layers of resentment and guarded detachment. You’re always cool, always distant, and he knows why, but that doesn’t make it any easier.

One evening, he sits you down with a grin, tossing a shiny, compact device into your hands. It’s sleek, metallic—one of his newer designs.

“Mini reactor prototype. You’d be the first to use it.” He says it with pride, like he’s giving you something no one else in the world could get.

You look at it for a moment, then at him. “Cool,” you say again, but your voice is flat, unimpressed. You set it on the table between you without another glance.

Tony’s grin falters, and he lets out a frustrated laugh. “You’re a tough crowd, you know that?”

You just shrug, giving him that practiced blank stare he’s come to know well. He’s finally reaching his breaking point. “Y’know, I’m trying here,” he says, exasperated. “I’m trying to… I don’t know, connect. Be… whatever it is you need me to be. But you’re acting like I’m just another stranger.”

You pause, considering him for a moment, and something shifts in your expression—like maybe, for just a second, you see his effort. But then your face goes neutral again, back to that familiar shield.

“Maybe that’s because you are,” you reply, voice quiet, almost too soft for him to hear.

Tony feels the blow, but he hides it with a forced chuckle. “Fair enough,” he says, though there’s a sting in his voice. “I can’t change the past, but… I’m here now. I’m not gonna just… walk away.”

The words linger between you, both of you knowing the weight they carry. You’ve heard promises like this before. You’ve heard them from your mother, from people who were supposed to care, and each one of those promises had turned hollow, leaving you more alone than before. So, when Tony looks at you with genuine sincerity, with a hope that you’ll give him a chance, all you can do is nod, burying any flicker of vulnerability.

As the weeks go on, Tony keeps trying. He brings you into the lab with him, walks you through his latest projects, even lets you experiment with some of the tech yourself. He drags you to burger joints at midnight, tries to coax out stories about school, hobbies, anything. Sometimes you let your guard slip, offering a sarcastic remark, a comment that makes him laugh—but the moment always passes too quickly, and you’re back behind that wall before he can push any further.

He’s persistent, though, and there’s a part of you that almost wants to give in, that wants to believe him. But your trust is a muscle you haven’t used in so long, it feels impossible to start now. So, you keep him at bay, deflecting his kindness, giving him just enough to satisfy his efforts without letting him in.

Tony doesn’t quit, though. He keeps showing up, every day, every night, and for the first time in your life, you don’t feel like someone’s just waiting for the moment they can leave.

Every morning, Tony insists on driving you to school, and it’s nothing short of a spectacle. He shows up outside Stark Tower in one of his many luxury cars, honking loudly, practically begging for attention. It’s become a routine, one you can’t escape no matter how many times you roll your eyes or tell him he doesn’t have to do it. He’s always got some snarky excuse, saying things like, “It’s my job as a dad,” or “I just want to see the kid off,” as if anyone believes he actually cares about high school protocol.

And everyone notices. Whispers trail behind you as you walk the halls, classmates you’ve known for years suddenly gawking at you like you’re a different person. They don’t know you as you anymore; they know you as Tony Stark’s kid. It’s suffocating. You’ve spent your entire life trying to stay unnoticed, to blend into the background. Now, no matter where you go, everyone’s waiting for you to crack a joke like him, to show off some kind of Stark-level genius.

Only one person seems to still see you, really see you—your best friend, Sam. You’ve known him since middle school, back when everything was simpler, when no one knew or cared who your dad was. He’s the only one who doesn’t treat you any differently now, the only person you actually trust enough to talk to about any of this.

One afternoon, you’re sitting outside on the bleachers with Sam, trying to ignore the fact that Tony’s car is already parked by the curb, waiting for you. The other students eye it like some exotic animal they don’t quite understand, but you keep your head down, just hoping the day will end without any more awkward questions or judgmental stares.

Sam nudges you. “So, uh… you still giving the old man the cold shoulder, huh?”

You sigh, avoiding his gaze. “I’m not giving him the cold shoulder. I’m just… keeping my distance.”

He rolls his eyes. “Dude, I see you with him every morning. The man looks like he’s about to recite the Gettysburg Address just to get a smile out of you. And you’re over here acting like he doesn’t exist.”

You shift uncomfortably, crossing your arms. “He’s only doing it because he feels obligated, Sam. It’s Tony Stark. He doesn’t actually care about me.”

Sam raises an eyebrow. “You really believe that? You think he’s the kind of guy who’d waste his time on someone he doesn’t care about?”

You don’t answer, but you can feel Sam’s eyes on you, cutting through all your defenses. He’s always been able to read you better than anyone, and right now, that’s the last thing you want.

“He’s trying, Y/N,” Sam continues, his voice softer. “Like, really trying. And I get it. I get that you’ve been burned, but… maybe give him a chance? Just talk to him. It’s not like he’s gonna run off if you tell him what’s going on.”

You look away, jaw clenched as you try to shake off the knot of emotion tightening in your chest. You don’t want to admit that Sam might be right. Letting someone in, giving someone a chance—that’s always been a dangerous game, one you’re not sure you can afford to play again.

That night, you’re lying awake in your room, staring at the ceiling, Sam’s words playing on a loop in your mind. The silence around you feels heavy, pressing down on you, and you can’t shake the feeling that maybe, just maybe, you owe Tony more than you’ve been giving him. You’ve seen his effort, the way he tries to connect with you, even when you push him away. He’s there, every day, waiting for you, and no one has ever done that before.

Something shifts in you, a kind of tired resignation, and before you can talk yourself out of it, you get up and head downstairs to his workshop.

Tony’s hunched over a table, tinkering with some gadget, and he barely notices you at first. It’s only when you clear your throat that he looks up, surprise flickering across his face before he masks it with a smile.

“Hey, kid,” he says, setting down his tools. “Couldn’t sleep?”

You shrug, suddenly feeling the weight of what you’re about to say. “Yeah, I just… I wanted to talk to you about something.”

He raises an eyebrow, a mixture of curiosity and concern on his face. He gestures to a nearby chair. “Go ahead. I’m all ears.”

You sit, staring at your hands as you try to find the right words. For a long time, there’s only silence between you, the air thick with tension. Finally, you take a deep breath, forcing yourself to speak.

“I know I’ve been… difficult,” you begin, your voice barely above a whisper. “And I know you’re trying. It’s just… it’s not easy for me.”

Tony watches you intently, not interrupting, his expression softer than you’ve ever seen it. You look down, focusing on your hands, the words spilling out before you can stop them.

“When I was a kid, my mom was all I had. I thought… I thought she cared about me, even if she didn’t always show it. But she changed, especially after she started seeing this guy. Travis. He wasn’t… he wasn’t a good person, Tony. He… he made sure I knew I wasn’t wanted.” Your voice breaks slightly, but you push through it, feeling the old wounds tear open. “He told me I was a burden, that I was just in the way. And my mom, she… she just let it happen. She barely even looked at me by the end.”

Tony’s face darkens, his jaw clenched as he listens, but he stays silent, letting you continue.

“I learned not to trust people,” you say, voice wavering. “Every time I thought someone would stick around, they didn’t. So I stopped… I stopped letting people in. I told myself it was easier that way.”

You look up at him, and for the first time, there’s no mask, no shield—just raw vulnerability, something you haven’t allowed yourself to feel in years.

“And then I showed up here,” you say, your voice barely a whisper now. “And you… you keep trying. You keep showing up, every day, like you actually care. And it’s… it’s confusing, okay? Because part of me wants to believe it, but the other part…” You trail off, wiping away a tear that slips down your cheek.

Tony doesn’t hesitate. He reaches over, placing a hand on your shoulder, grounding you, letting you know he’s there. “Y/N,” he says softly, his voice rough with emotion. “I can’t change what you went through. I can’t go back and fix it, as much as I wish I could. But I’m here now, and I’m not going anywhere.”

You meet his gaze, and there’s something in his eyes that you’ve never seen before—a fierce, unwavering resolve that feels almost foreign. You swallow hard, feeling the weight of his words sink in, feeling the tiniest flicker of hope spark to life.

“It’s not easy for me,” you murmur. “It’s… it’s hard for me to trust people. And I know I’m not the easiest person to be around. But… I want to try. I want to believe you. I just… I need you to be patient with me. I need you to not give up on me.”

Tony nods, his hand still resting on your shoulder, steady and reassuring. “Hey,” he says, his voice breaking a little. “I’m not giving up on you, kid. Not now, not ever. You’re my son, and I’m here for the long haul. However long it takes, okay?”

The words settle around you, a warmth you haven’t felt in years. You don’t have to say anything; he seems to understand, giving your shoulder a reassuring squeeze before he lets go. And in that moment, something in you softens, just a little, like maybe you can let him in.

For the first time, you allow yourself to believe him, to believe that maybe he really won’t walk away. And even though the walls around your heart don’t come down all at once, you feel them start to crack, piece by piece, letting a little light seep in.

After that night, things start to change. It’s slow, gradual, like thawing ice, but there’s a noticeable shift between you and Tony. You’re still guarded, still wary of letting him all the way in, but he doesn’t push. He just keeps showing up, every day, every night, just like he promised. And slowly, piece by piece, you let him in.

The first time you ask to work on something together, Tony practically beams. You’re sitting at the kitchen counter with your physics homework in front of you—normally a breeze, something you’d get done in a few minutes. But today, you’ve left a few problems untouched, hoping he’ll notice.

Sure enough, Tony glances over your shoulder and raises an eyebrow. “Need a hand with that?” he asks, and there’s a careful lightness to his voice, like he’s trying to keep things casual, so he doesn’t scare you off.

You shrug, trying to act indifferent. “Sure, if you’ve got time,” you say, even though both of you know you could solve this on your own without breaking a sweat. But Tony doesn’t call you out on it. He just grabs a chair, pulls it over, and sits down next to you, leaning in to look at your work.

For the next hour, the two of you go over formulas and theories, his explanations coming with a few sarcastic quips and exaggerated hand gestures. Every so often, he goes off on a tangent, telling you stories about his own time in high school or sharing a strange fact he thinks will help you remember a concept. You listen, half-smiling at his antics, and eventually even throw in a few of your own sarcastic comments. You can tell he’s trying not to make a big deal out of it, but there’s a spark in his eyes that tells you he’s thrilled to be here, helping you, no matter how small the reason.

As the days go by, you find yourself spending more and more time in Tony’s workshop. It becomes your safe space, the place where you don’t feel like you have to hide or put up walls. Tony lets you explore, handing you tools and explaining how they work, guiding you through his more complicated inventions. It’s like learning a new language, one he’s eager to teach you, and he’s a surprisingly patient teacher.

One afternoon, he’s working on a new suit upgrade, and you’re watching, silently impressed by how smoothly he moves, how every action is precise and practiced. You’re deep in thought when he glances over at you, smirking.

“Thinking of joining the family business?” he jokes, tossing you a wrench. “If you’re interested, I could always use an extra pair of hands.”

You catch the wrench, feeling a rare, genuine smile tug at the corners of your mouth. “Maybe I will,” you say, feeling a rush of warmth that’s unfamiliar but not unwelcome.

He shows you how to tighten a piece of armor plating, explaining each step with a casual ease that you find yourself getting lost in. There’s something oddly comforting about the way he talks, like he’s sharing a secret only the two of you understand. And as you work, side by side, you realize that you actually look forward to these moments, the quiet companionship that comes from working together on something you both enjoy.

One evening, you catch yourself staring at your chemistry textbook, pages open to a particularly dull section on thermodynamics. Normally, you’d power through it on your own, but tonight, you feel the familiar tug of loneliness creeping in, and before you know it, you’re on your feet, heading down to Tony’s lab.

When you reach the doorway, he looks up, surprised, then quickly wipes the expression off his face and pretends to be engrossed in his latest project. “What’s up?” he asks, as casually as he can manage.

You hold up the textbook, pretending to be annoyed. “This stuff is terrible. Thought maybe you could explain it better than my teacher does.”

Tony raises an eyebrow, clearly amused. “Well, I’m honored to know you think so highly of my teaching skills.” He gestures for you to sit down, and as you do, he starts flipping through the pages of your book. “Thermodynamics, huh? You sure you’re not just here for the riveting conversation?”

You roll your eyes. “Don’t flatter yourself.”

But you both know the truth, and there’s an unspoken understanding between you as he dives into the material. He doesn’t just lecture; he makes it a story, breaking down each concept with analogies, acting out scenarios, and throwing in enough jokes to keep you both entertained. You throw in questions just to keep him talking, just so you don’t have to go back to your empty room just yet.

And somewhere along the way, you realize you’re not just learning about science. You’re learning about him—about his quirks, his sense of humor, the way he lights up when he’s talking about things he’s passionate about. He’s not just Tony Stark, billionaire genius, Iron Man. He’s… Tony, your dad, someone who, against all odds, actually seems to care about you.

Over time, you both fall into a rhythm. Tony starts waiting for you in the mornings, holding out a cup of coffee or hot chocolate, claiming he needs company on his drive to work. You never say it, but you look forward to those mornings, the way he fills the car with stories about his latest projects or about old college pranks he pulled that make you laugh in spite of yourself.

One day, you’re both hunched over a set of schematics in his lab, tossing ideas back and forth as you brainstorm a new design for a stabilizer that could potentially improve flight control in his suits. You’re getting so into it that you forget to be guarded, throwing out suggestions, bouncing thoughts off each other in rapid-fire succession.

At one point, Tony stops, leaning back in his chair to look at you with a smirk. “You know,” he says, a touch of pride in his voice, “you’re pretty damn good at this. Got that Stark brain for sure.”

You feel a warmth spread through you, and for the first time, you don’t brush it off. “Maybe,” you say, smiling despite yourself. “But I guess it helps when you have a good teacher.”

Tony chuckles, but there’s a glimmer of emotion in his eyes, something raw and unguarded. “Yeah, well… you’re not a bad student either.”

There’s a moment of silence as the two of you look at each other, an understanding passing between you that doesn’t need words. You know he’s trying, and somehow, that knowledge makes the walls around your heart crumble just a little bit more.

A few days later, you’re working on homework in the living room when Tony walks in, holding a set of blueprints he’s obviously excited about. But when he sees you bent over your books, he pauses, a mischievous grin spreading across his face.

“Hey, need some help?” he asks, raising an eyebrow.

You look up, raising an eyebrow back at him. “With calculus? Pretty sure I’ve got this covered.”

He shrugs, feigning offense. “I’ll have you know I was quite the calculus prodigy back in the day.”

“Oh, yeah?” You smirk, half-teasing. “Care to prove it?”

Tony grins, and before you know it, he’s pulled up a chair, leaning over your work with the same intensity he brings to his inventions. You pretend to need help with a few problems, and he’s more than happy to guide you through them, throwing in jokes and sarcastic comments the whole way. Every so often, he nudges your shoulder, grinning like he’s just scored a victory when he catches you smiling.

Eventually, he lets out an exaggerated sigh. “Well, I think we’ve both learned a lot today,” he says, stretching dramatically.

“Yeah,” you reply, smirking. “Like the fact that you’re worse at calculus than I am.”

Tony gapes, clutching his chest in mock hurt. “Unbelievable. Betrayed by my own son. This is a new low.”

You chuckle, shaking your head, and for the first time, it feels easy. Comfortable. Like maybe, just maybe, you don’t have to keep fighting him off.

“Hey,” Tony says, his tone shifting to something softer. “Thanks for letting me in. I know it wasn’t easy.”

You meet his gaze, feeling that familiar vulnerability creeping in, but this time, you don’t shy away. “Thanks for not giving up,” you reply quietly. “I know I’m not the easiest person to deal with.”

Tony chuckles, reaching over to ruffle your hair. “Nah, you’re a piece of cake. Besides, I’ve got a lot of time to make up for.”

You smile, a real one this time, feeling a warmth settle in your chest. For the first time, you allow yourself to hope that maybe, just maybe, things are going to be okay.

It’s supposed to be a routine mission. Just another intel-gathering run, in and out, with minimal risk. Tony had waved it off as no big deal before he left, throwing you a smirk and saying, “Just another day in the office.” But that was hours ago. And now, as you sit in the dim glow of the living room, watching the news report blaring on the screen, dread twists deep in your gut.

You watch the shaky footage of Iron Man fighting, and this time, it’s different. He’s outnumbered, missiles tearing through the air, beams of energy slicing through the smoke and chaos. The news anchor’s voice breaks as they report the intensity of the fight, how Iron Man was last seen plunging out of the sky after a heavy hit. For a terrifying moment, you catch a glimpse of him falling, his suit battered, smoking, before the feed cuts out entirely.

Your heart stops, and a painful tightness fills your chest. The hours that follow are a blur of pacing, every second dragging longer than the last. You’re used to him going out on missions, used to the danger that comes with being Tony Stark’s son. But this… this is different. This isn’t the usual playful bravado, the usual cocky promises that he’ll be home for dinner. This is life or death, and for the first time, you’re faced with the horrifying thought that he might not make it back.

After what feels like an eternity, the front door finally opens. You spin around, heart pounding, and there he is, looking worse for wear but alive. He’s moving a bit stiffly, his armor scratched and dented, his face smudged with dirt and a few new cuts. But he’s here.

Before he can say a word, you rush toward him, the flood of relief hitting you so hard that you barely register the fact that you’re moving, throwing yourself into his arms. Your grip is tight, like if you let go, he’ll disappear. You don’t even realize you’re trembling until you feel his arms close around you, holding you just as tightly.

“Hey, hey,” Tony says, his voice soft, touched with surprise but warm. “I’m okay, kid. I’m here.”

You pull back just enough to look at him, your eyes shining with unshed tears, and he’s looking at you with an expression so full of gentle understanding that it makes you feel like a kid again, vulnerable and desperate. Without thinking, the word slips out, raw and unguarded.

“Dad…” you whisper, voice breaking slightly, “don’t ever… don’t ever do that again. I thought… I thought I was going to lose you.”

Tony’s face softens, his own eyes welling up. He’s silent for a moment, as if he’s savoring the word, the weight of it finally hitting home. His hand comes up to rest on your shoulder, his grip firm but gentle, grounding you.

“I’m sorry,” he murmurs, his voice rough with emotion. “I didn’t mean to scare you like that. But I’m here, okay? I’m here, and I’m not going anywhere.”

You nod, the tears slipping down your cheeks now, and Tony pulls you in again, holding you tightly, his hand running gently over your back. It’s the first time you’ve let yourself fully embrace him, the first time you’ve allowed yourself to lean into his strength, to accept the warmth he’s been trying so hard to offer. And as you stand there, held in his arms, a sense of peace settles over you, soft and comforting, melting the last of your walls away.

After a long moment, he pulls back just enough to meet your gaze, a tear slipping down his own cheek as he smiles, eyes bright. “You called me ‘Dad,’” he says softly, his voice full of wonder, as if he’s just received the greatest gift in the world.

You give a small, watery smile, wiping at your eyes. “Yeah, well… don’t get used to it,” you mumble, but there’s no heat behind the words, only affection, only gratitude.

He chuckles, pulling you back into a hug, and you feel his hand rest on the back of your head, his grip firm and reassuring. “I’m already used to it,” he whispers, his voice thick with emotion. “And I’m not letting you go, kid. Not ever.”

In that moment, you realize that this is what home feels like—right here, safe in his arms, with nothing left to fear.

I'll never get tired of familyman!Tony I swear.

[swiftieblyth]

I have an idea! Tom and y/n going to The Eras Tour!!!

They get invited and that makes her so excited that she puts Tom to help her make friendship bracelets so they could interact with some fans. Also she is so excited th get them matching outfits.

During the concert they get to exchange friendship bracelets, dance during Lover, y/n gets emotional during fearless and speak now bc she remembered her young years and when the Midnights set comes she says to Tom “I would let you enjoy this one” while Taylor starts with Vigilante Shit.

Then at the end Tom says to Y/N something like “you should learn the reputation dances or at least the vigilante shit one… you know, for me” !!!!!!

TOO MUCH TEXT IM SORRY

Era’s tour

a/n- sorry it took me so long I’m dealing with a lot of crappy things right now 😭😭😭

warnings- long, slut

“Tommy!” You screeched, smile on your face as you looked at your text from Taylor.

“What?” Tom asked, running in, fear in his face.

“Taylor invited us to come to her tour!” You squealed, huge smile on your face.

“That’s amazing love!” He smiled, coming up to you, wrapping you in his arms.

“I’m so excited!” You smiled, turning around, looking up at his face. “Oh my gosh!!! We have to get matching outfits!!! What era should we go as? I mean probably lover, right?”

“What ever you want darling,” Tom smiled, kissing your head.

“Wait, what about Lady? Do you think Rachel and Josh will watch her? I mean, I want to take her, but I don’t want to leave her alone in a hotel for six hours.”

“I think they’ll be more than happy to watch her.”

“Oh my gosh! Tommy, you have to help me make friendship bracelets to exchange! Please!”

“Oh course,” he smiled, looking down at you, chuckling a little.

“What?” You asked, smiling up at him, hands on his chest.

“You’re adorable.” Your face turned bright red from embarrassment as you hid it in his chest. “It’s not a bad thing, love. I love that about you.”

“Really?” You asked, looking up at him.

“Really. I love you so much.”

“I love you too. So much!”

💜💜💜

“I’m so excited!” You smiled, as you walked to the box, hand in hand with Tom.

As you walked fans walked up to you two and took pictures with you, and traded bracelets with you. You were already having a blast and loved that Tom was here with you.

“Y/N,” you heard a familiar voice call.

“Travis!” You gasped, a big smile on your face as you let go of Tom’s hand to hug Travis.

“Hey baby girl,” he smiled, kissing your head. “How’s my favorite celebrity daughter doing?”

“Good! How are you?”

“I’m good.”

“Hey, Scott.” You smiled, hugging Taylor’s dad, Scott Swift.

“Hey, sweetheart.” He smiled, hugging you.

You let go and grabbed Tom’s hand again. “Travis, Scott, this is my boyfriend Tom. Tom this is Travis and Scott.” You let out.

“Hi, it’s nice to meet you.” He smiled, shaking Travis’s hand, then Scott’s. “Both of you.”

💜💜💜

The intro started and you started screaming and jumping as you waited for Taylor to come out. Tom held your hand and watched with love at how excited you were.

You scream sang the lyrics to the opening songs then screamed as she did her opening speech. She started playing Lover and you looked up at Tom, a smile on your face and love in your eyes. Same as him.

“Dance with me, love?” He asked, putting out his hand as Taylor started singing.

“I would love to,” you smiled, grabbing his hand and waltzing around to lover.

You danced around the box singing with Tom as Taylor sang.

“Ladies and gentleman will you please stand,” you sang, looking up at Tom. “With every guitar string scar on my hand I take this magnetic force of a man to be my lover.”

Tom kissed your head and let go of your hands fast enough to take off one of his rings, grabbing your hand again to slide it on your finger. “I’m going to marry you one day love.” He smiled, kissing you.

“I love you so much,” you breathed after your pulled away.

💜💜💜

Tears came to your eyes as the Fearless era started because it reminded you of when you were in highschool and all your dumb teenage loves and how you listened to these songs. You remembered how you felt yelling these songs while driving in your car on the way to school.

Tom saw a tear fall and wrapped his arm around you. “I love you baby.” He whispered, kissing your head.

💜💜💜

When Taylor came out in her Speak Now dress and started singing Enchanted you and Tom danced around together singing it to each other.

💜💜💜

The night was flying by and Taylor had just finished her surprise songs, but didn’t get up from her piano yet.

“Um,” Taylor started, looking around. “If it’s okay with you, we’re gonna do something different tonight. So usually I only play two surprise songs. But there’s a couple in the crowd tonight that I now dedicate a song to. It’s a newer song, but I wrote it years ago. And about a year or so ago this happened to someone that’s like a daughter to me.” You gasped as you grabbed Tom’s hand, tears forming in your eyes as you know where she is going with this. “And I remember her calling me crying from her hotel room in, I think it was like Germany. She told me what happened and I just felt terrible. I told her that I went through the same thing and I played her this song. Ladies and gentlemen Y/N Y/L/N is in the house!”

The crowed started cheering as Taylor started playing the piano again.

“But if I’m all dressed up they might as well be looking at us. And if they call me a slut, you know it might be worth it for once. If I’m gonna be drunk, I might as well be drunk in love.

Send that code, he’s waiting there the sticks and stones they throw froze mid-air. Everyone wants him that was my crime. The wrong place at the right time. And I brake down, then he’s pulling me in. In a world of boys he’s a gentleman.”

You looked up at Tom tears streaming down your face as you wrapped your arms around his s tight as you could.

“I love you so much!” You let out. “Thank you so much for not letting me go.”

“I would never my love. I love you more than anyone,”

he explained, holding you tight and kissed the crown of your head.

💜💜💜

As Taylor started singing Vigilante Shit you looked at Tom and smirked. “I’ll let you enjoy this one.”

“You know,” he smirked back, pulling you closer to him, tickling your rib. You should learn this dance. You know, for me.”

[luxesiren]

⸻ 𝐅𝐀𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐎𝐍 𝐃𝐄𝐒𝐈𝐆𝐍𝐄𝐑!𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐍𝐈𝐄 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐂𝐀𝐍𝐎𝐍𝐒

cw :: mentions of smoking, pinterest links, instagram links, and tiktok links

a/n :: hi!! this is gonna be pt. 2 of my fashion designer connie series, im bringing you headcanons😋 pt.1 here (also could y’all tell i love him?)

fashion designer!connie loves dying his hair with different colors, especially bright colors like pink, platinum, yellow, and green

fashion designer!connie gets his nails done with some crazy design, something like this, this, and this.

fashion designer!connie always dresses to impress, his style always ranges. i think he would wear streetwear often but when he doesn't, he's wearing some Y2K-inspired or something like this.

fashion designer!connie always says, "it's never about the outfit but about how you wear it."

fashion designer!connie is always doodling new designs when he's bored or when the idea strikes him

fashion designer!connie has a long playlist with different genres of music, he would sing all the words to 'What Makes You Beautiful' by 1D and then immediately switch up and rap every lyric to a Travis Scott song.

(bonus: this man listens to Ice Spice, SZA, Megan Thee Stallion Beyonce, allat idccc)

fashion designer!connie gives fashion advice all the time and he loves giving women compliments, he loves asking how people came up with their outfits because he likes seeing the different aesthetics.

if fashion designer!connie was a content creator on tiktok, i think his content would look something like this.

fashion designer!connie goes to a school strictly for fashion, everyone is friends with him and they all think he's the sweetest person ever.

fashion designer!connie loves when people ask him for his advice for their outfits (see above). one of his friends asked him if he looked good and he said, "you look good, baby. everything is complimenting each other, don't let anyone tell you differently."

fashion designer!connie is a big flirt, (how do you think he ended up with you?) he takes any chance he gets to flirt with someone but not anymore since he got with you.

fashion designer!connie loves getting high.

fashion designer!connie has a couple of favorite accessories and it's rings, headphones, necklaces, and cool earrings.

this is what i headcanon fashion designer!connie to look like (mind you, this is my opinion!)

fashion designer!connie is a cat lover, trust me, he loves dogs too but he loves cats. he thinks they're cool

fashion designer!connie loves mismatching and wearing all different kinds of colors, he doesn't care! he knows he looks good

fashion designer!connie has done an aliyahcore look, trust me.

© ���𝐮𝐱𝐞𝐬𝐢𝐫𝐞𝐧 | all rights reserved to me. please don’t steal, copy, or repost to other websites

tags: @ncentic @cybercandy1 @indiecursor

[hellishdeer]

Live reactions and ramblings about the the first four episodes of Hazbin Hotel

Warnings: SPOILERS!!! Incoherent, unfiltered thoughts, I wrote them as I was watching. Most of them are in chronological order, but not all

EPISODE 1:

The origin story of Hell is a cool take on the original tale of Adam and Eve and the animation style is very pretty too (also biblically accurate angels 👀)

Adam is just the ultimate douche, fucking great

NIFTY ZONING OUT WHILE SHE IS BEING FILMED, WHAT THE FUCK WAS THAT-

Really interesting and fun that Alastor straight up REFUSES to be captured in digital media, distorting it and facing the other way during the commercial

EPISODE 2:

SIR PENTIOUS!!!!

Loved whenever Vox got real close to the screen, it looked like your TV was his face, adored that shit 👌Also the way his voice distorted whenever he was pissed

Alastor went missing around the same time as Lilith... I'm sure that is not going to be at all plot relevant..

STAYED GONE. Vox's part sung/spoken like a TV news anchor, Alastor breaking the fourth wall, the varieties of error screens Vox displayed, and THE BLACKOUT. THAT PART GAVE ME SERIOUS CHILLS Love you Alastor but you're scaring me a little

SIR PENTIOUS PLAYING ALONG WITH CHARLIE AND ACTUALLY ENJOYING HIMSELF AT THE HOTEL I'M SOBBING

"You like me. You actually like me!" 😭❤️

The voice messages Valentino sent were fucking vile, fuck him. I'm now rooting for Angel Dust more than ever before..

Sir Pentious finally has canon hypnosis powers!!

Vox, you're cool and all BUT YOU JUST TOLD SIR PENTIOUS TO KILL HIMSELF WHAT THE FUCK NEVER GO NEAR HIM EVER AGAIN OR I SWEAR-

"Just make it quick, I guess. Not that I deserve it.." VIOLENTLY ILL.

SORRY IS WHERE IT STARTS. Just.. *sobs* Charlie is so fucking sweet, I can't wait for their friendship to grow

EPISODE 3:

"Hello purple female!" PLEASE 💀

The scene where Alastor was eating is a reference o to one Viv's older speedpaints (more specifically this one)

"Are those your ears or your hair? I can't tell!" Egg Bois asking the real questions here-

ZESTIEL. He looks so cool and I love the way he speaks, hopefully were going to see more of him!

"Oh, look! There's Frank!" "...We have names?" PFFFTT-

"If I can't help you, what's the point of me?" 😭😭😭

CARMILLA'S SINGING VOICE BLEW ME AWAY HOLY SHIT-

Vaggie's singing voice being hilariously different to her speaking one

Carmilla implying in her song that she killed the angel to protect her daughters I-😭 That, and she doesn't want the rest of hell to start a war they can't win, she is a protector. She's definitely one of my new favorites.

As Zestiel said, Alastor is unpredictable and his motivations are hard to read, I love how he is written in a way you geniunely can't guess his real motivations you go you sinister deer fellow

SIR PENTIOUS AND HIS MATCHING PYJAMAS WITH THE EGG BOIS AND ALL OF THE SNUGGLING TOGETHER IN HIS COZY ROUND BED- *starts to froth at the mouth*

EPISODE 4:

Nifty just laying there kicking her feet while watching p*rn 😭

SIR PENTIOUS BLUSHING AND COVERING HIS FACE WITH HIS HOOD PLEASE-

Is Pentious seriously so lonely that he watches people sleep...stop making me sad

Angel Dust having the most fire wardrobe 💅

TRAVIS IS THE FUCKING DIRECTOR-

Angel Dust's face when he heard Valentino speaking :(

VALENTINO GET YOUR HANDS OFF OF CHARLIE RIGHT NOW.

VALENTINO'S COAT IS ACTUALLY HIS WINGS?!?! That's a very cool design actually

THE DRESSING ROOM IS FUCKING DISGUSTING, IT'S FINE IF YOU LIKE VALENTINO AS A VILLIAN, BUT IF YOU ACTUALLY STAN HIM AFTER THIS I SWEAR-

The contract being signed as "Anthony" :(((

"I'll get her to leave, just don't hurt her." *cries*

Charlie being ready kick Valentinos ass the SECOND she saw Angel's state LET'S GOOOO

Poison is just.. So beautifully animated, but so very disturbing at the same time.. FUCK. VALENTINO.

THE DOTS UNDER ANGEL'S EYES WERE JUST MORE EYES THIS ENTIRE TIME?!? I'm such a dumbass

Throwing cards as a weapon :O

HUSK USED TO BE AN OVERLORD EXCUSE ME?!?!

"If I get broken enough.. I won't be his favorite toy anymore.. And he'll let me go.." CRYING SOBBING THROWING UP

You're a Loser Baby is fucking pretty and adorable! I finally I see the appeal in Huskerdust 🥹❤️

EXPLODING DICE WOOO!

Just now realized Alastor didn't show up once during this episode.. Wonder what he getting up to 🤔

[kelcemesoftly]

Heartbreak Series: Part 1 [[Like We Used To]] Song Imagine

Series: Heartbreak Series

Summary: How are you handling the breakup? Based on Like We Used To by A Rocket to the Moon

Words: 1291

Triggers: nsfw, i think that's it???

Part 1 of a potential series. Hope y'all enjoy!

My first Trav fanfic.... be gentle pleaseeee. Requests are more than welcome 🥰

I can feel her breath as she's sleeping next to me

Sharing pillows and cold feet

She can feel my heart, fell asleep to its beat

Under blankets and warm sheets

“How are you always so cold?!” Travis chuckled, draping his arm across your bare waist as you two laid naked, the only thing covering you both being a feather-like, white sheet. Your eyes met his as you let out a small snicker, a sheepish shrug being mustered up even though exhaustion was plaguing your body. 

“Don’t you like it? You’re the one who specifically stated you’re always too warm,” you mused, arching your brows pointedly as if to prove your point to him. As much as you gave Travis shit for it, him being warm had its perks. He was your personal body heater and you never had to worry about being cold when you were in his presence. Cold hands pressed against his back was always a welcome feeling in his mind, and he’d told you that more than once. 

You shuffled closer to Travis in your shared bed, turning around so that he was the big spoon. He tightened his arms around your body, pressing a loving kiss against the back of your head. It didn’t take long for him to doze off, exhausted from the Monday Night game he had just won. You, on the other hand, took a bit longer to fall into a slumber, though the beat of Travis’ heart eventually lulled you into a deep sleep, knowing that you were safe in your boyfriend’s arms.

If only I could be in that bed again

If only it were me instead of him

Does he watch your favorite movies?

Does he hold you when you cry?

Does he let you tell him all your favorite parts when you've seen it a million times?

Does he sing to all your music while you dance to Purple Rain?

Does he do all these things like I used to?

What you would give to go back to that time in your life, a mere year ago. It wasn’t as if you didn’t love your new boyfriend, but he wasn’t anything compared to Travis. He was different, in every single way from your ex. Trav was an extrovert, he was an introvert. Trav loved sports, he despised them. Travis’ family was everything to him, he hadn’t spoken to his parents in years. What started out as a welcome change was suddenly becoming a sad realization that you wouldn’t ever have that type of love again in your life.

Trav knew every single movie you had watched, he knew what your favorite TV shows were. He knew that you’d be glued in front of the TV every Wednesday night to catch up on all your missed shows because of the NFL’s hectic schedule. Your new boyfriend didn’t know that he should expect that because he wasn’t nearly as busy as Travis. With him, you could watch the shows as they aired live because there were no football games you attended causing a disruption in your schedule. Secretly, you’d still watch all of Travis’ games, your love and concern for him overpowering your desire to watch your shows.

As you lay next to your new boyfriend, tears filled your eyes at the stark contrast that was now your life. Your new boyfriend turned over, seeing your eyelids red from tears.”What’s wrong?” he asked sleepily, a yawn escaping from his red lips. You shook your head, not wanting to delve into the fact that you were, once again, mourning the loss of your relationship with Travis. 

“Nothing,” you whispered, your voice cracking as you said the word. In reality, everything was wrong. Nodding, your boyfriend turned over, soft snores being heard echoing off the wall. That alone made you turn to face the opposite wall, small sobs raking through your body. It wasn’t as if your boyfriend didn’t care… but he didn’t care in the way Travis would. Trav would have wrapped his arms around you, blinked several times until he came to, and then demanded you to tell him what was wrong, in the most loving way. And you would’ve told him, because he was your best friend. Perhaps that was the hardest part, losing your boyfriend and best friend all in one.

14 months and seven days ago

Oh, I know you know how we felt about that night

Just your skin against the window

Oh, we took it slow and we both know

It should have been me inside that car

It should have been me instead of him in the dark

You had been with Travis not even a month before the first time you slept together. To say it was amazing would be an understatement. He was the sweetest, kindest, most attentive lover you’d ever been with, and that was just the first time. As time went on, it only became more amazing, more magical. And you were convinced that was because of the love that radiated between the two of you, which was evident to everyone in your inner circle. 

The first time you slept with your ex had been a drunken hookup, your attempt to get over Travis. And it worked, for a couple hours. Then your mind went back to your ex, which was precisely what you wanted to avoid. And so began the triad of events, sleeping with your new guy, going home only to call him again a few hours later to try and forget Trav. Eventually, you both decided that since the sex was good, you should try out a relationship. It wasn’t bad, the sex nor the relationship, but it wasn’t the same. It never would be. You knew that, always had. 

For what felt like the millionth time, you slipped out of bed and went into the one bathroom in your rented apartment, locking the door behind you as tears leaked out of your eyes. You were so angry that you let a petty argument with Trav ruin the rest of your life, a life you so wanted with him. You’d never pictured being married until you met Travis, but now that you had, that’s all you saw. And, as sad as it was to say, all your boyfriend was was a nice distraction. 

Your mind wandered over to Travis, curious as to how he was feeling. Was he having the same thoughts? Or did he move on? Have a new girl in his bed? Tell someone else that he loved them? The mere thought alone caused you to become sick, emptying the content of your stomach into the toilet. You fell back onto your ass, desperately reaching for your phone. 

I know, Love (I'm a sucker for that feeling)

Happens all the time, Love (I always end up feeling cheated)

You're on my mind, Love (oh darling, lead her where that leaded)

It happens all the time, Love, yeah

Y/N: Hey… how are you doing?

Trav: Long time no talk! I’m alright, how are you?

You stared at the text for what felt like an eternity, but in reality was less than a minute. In your drunken haze, you clicked on his contact name and pressed Facetime, anxiously awaiting to see if he’d answer. To your surprise, he did. Fuck. What were you going to say? To do? Let him know that you tried to move on but couldn’t? Let him know you watched every single one of his games and still held your breath every time he was tackled? Let him know you watched every video and interview of him? Let him know you thought you saw the heartbroken flickers in his eyes?

“Trav… I miss you.”

[acotars]

full listen through complete, here are all my initial thoughts in one place

finally post malone delivering the vocals we always knew he had i love this man’s voice

gorgeous harmonies

i’m sorry charlie puth?????? depressing to hear wish she could unrecord that.

who’s gonna hold you like me? because we’re CRAZYYYY. who’s gonna hold you? — me. KILLLLLLL ME (me-e-e!)

my boy only breaks his favorite toys x my boy billie eilish mashup when

down bad waking up in BLOOD??? in BLOOD?????

staring at the sky chinese satellite moment ?? staring at the sky would’ve could’ve should’ve when i’m screaming at the sky moment??

and i’m pissed off you let me give you all that youth for free :(((( this makes my whole body ache

you sacrificed us to the gods of your bluest days and im just getting color back in my face :(

i’m having his baby!!!!!!!! first laugh of the album. so far it’s nothing but heart aching and then she’s like lol i’m pregnant jk lmao!!!

fresh out the slammer first second sounds like old western like guns drawn dueling in a ghost town

to the one who says i’m the girl of his american dreams UGH!!! i love her songwriting in this one it’s so mundane and winky. it’s so stolen moments of real life it’s so spoken word it’s so everything to me

my friends all smell like weed or little babies LMAO this feels like the sexy baby of ttpd

florence welch the woman that you are………

throwing my life to the wolves or the ocean rocks / drove my car off the road to the lookout could’ve followed my fears all the way down

what if he’s written “mine” on my upper thigh only in my mind. INSANE LYRIC. insane lyric. terrifying horrifying lyric. she is a master

i keep these longings locked in lowercase inside a vault and then LOWERCASE LOML. lowercase love of my life. lowercase loss of my life.

guilty as sin is the most painful breakup song i’ve ever heard it’s so awful it hurts so bad i can’t even think about it without crying

love the screaming in who’s afraid of little old me but i fear in some ways the lyrics feel more juvenile than the rest of the album

i can fix him is and cowboy like me are sisters

LOSS OF MY LIFE??????????? LOSS!!!! of my LIFE!!!!!!!!!!

793 dead 1 bazillion injured

i can do it with a broken heart spotify video just being eras tour footage lol just shoot me. just shoot me in the chest

lights camera bitch smile 1 2 3 let’s go bitch

jehovah’s witness suit is exactly what i’m talking about with her lyricism it’s so real life details it’s so moments out of context turned into poetry

were you writing a book??? :((( :’(((( the desperation of wanting there to be a reason for it all and a reason for it all to be thrown away she’s so used to being used/mused :((((

the alchemy .,, i’ll pass. idc about this one sorry there’s too much matty and travis it makes me :/

YOU LOOK LIKE TAYLOR SWIFT???? AS THE OUTROOOOO she’s crazy for this she’s bonkers

i cried my way through clara bow and then started it over and cried again. and then spotify said oh did you want yoyok now??

[seeminglyranch87]

Taylor & Travis Timeline

July 2024 - Part 1

July 3 - New Heights Ep. 97 airs, season 2 finale. Jason & Travis Kelce discuss Travis' debut on the Eras Tour stage (x) (x 48:30)

Kelce said it was initially his idea to join the show at Wembley Stadium, recalling that he told Swift it would be “funny” if he “rolled out on one of the bikes” that dancers typically ride on stage during the 1989 portion of the show.

Kelce said Swift laughed, but then asked him, “Would you seriously be up for doing something like that?”

“I was just like, ‘What? I would love to do that. Are you kidding me? I’ve seen the show enough — might as well put me to work here,’” he recalled. “And sure enough, she found the perfect part of the show for me to come in.”

Kelce surprised the crowd in London last week when he appeared on stage in a tuxedo and top hat carrying Swift onstage in “The Tortured Poets Department” era of the show.

It happened on the third night of the London stops, after the brothers attended Swift’s first two shows there.

“There was no bike in case I ran into somebody else or hit one of the dancers or anything,” Kelce said. “It was the safest option.”

Kelce said his silly dance on stage was inspired by one Jim Carey does in the movie “Dumb and Dumber.”

“I always wanted to pull out this move, but I never knew like when I should pull it out where it made sense,” he said. “That’s one of my favorite moves of all time!”

All said, Kelce called it an “honor” being on the stage with Swift and her dancers.

“It was an absolute blast,” he shared. “It was such a fun, playful part of the show and it was like the perfect time for me to go up there, just be a ham and have some fun, not only with [Swift]… but the crowd and really try and get everybody excited for the rest of the show. It was awesome.”

“I didn’t disappoint Taylor, so that’s all that really matters,” he added, saying his only rule was “do not drop the baby.”

“The golden rule was ‘Do not drop Taylor. Get her to the couch safe,’” Kelce said.

His brother and co-host Jason Kelce laughed, adding: “No fumbles.”

A little serendipitous don't you think...?

July 4 - The Eras Tour, Johan Cruijff Arena, Amsterdam, Netherlands N1

Guilty As Sin x Untouchable (guitar) The Archer x Question…? (Piano)

“I’ve been the Archer, I’ve been the prey, who could ever leave me darling? Who could stay? It’s just a question….”

And if you want to stay what do you ask the other person?

Taylor Nation reposting…. They are so unserious!

July 5 - The Eras Tour, Johan Cruijff Arena, Amsterdam, Netherlands N2

Imgonnagetyouback x Dress (guitar) & You Are In Love x Cowboy Like Me (piano)

Our girl is in love!

Taylor mimics a Travis move during Midnight Rain

Taylor sang “Karma is the guy on the Chiefs” with Travis in attendance.

Taylor Nation are riding the Tayvis train - are they hinting at a 2nd appearance on stage for Travis tomorrow for Amsterdam N3?

July 6 - The Eras Tour, Johan Cruijff Arena, Amsterdam, Netherlands N3

Travis, Patrick & Brittany Mahomes are in attendance (in suite) and sing their hearts out 🫶

Sweeter Than Fiction x Holy Ground (guitar) & Mary’s Song (Oh My My My) x So High School x Everything Has Changed (piano)

"all I know since yesterday is everything has changed and in a blink of a crinkling eye, everything has changed and I'll be 87, you'll be 89, I'll still look at you like the stars that shine in my sky, oh my my my"

Note that the secret message in the lyric booklet for Mary's Song is Sometimes love is forever. This was a love letter to Travis. Travis got a little emotional during the 2nd mashup and was seen wiping away tears.

Taylor & Travis leave the stadium together (x x)

Taylor & Travis head out with Patrick & Brittany Mahomes & Summitt & Miranda Hogue in Amsterdam post performance.

Pics posted to IG July 15 (x x)

July 8 - It is one year today since Travis Kelce went to night 2 of the Eras Tour in Kansas City wanting to shoot his shot and give Taylor Swift a friendship bracelet with his number on it. News agency's jumping the gun on Taylor & Travis' anniversary releasing articles and timelines. Remember they had not met or had contact yet.

ET timeline (x)

CNN (x x)

July 9 - The Eras Tour, Station Letzigrund, Zurich, Switzerland N1

📸 Noam Galai, 9 July 2024

Right Where You Left me x All You Had To Do Was Stay (guitar)

“Happy 9th July to those who celebrate” says Taylor before belting out

Last Kiss x Sad Beautiful Tragic (piano)

July 10 - Travis finishes filming Grotesquerie, seen with Larry McGee and crew.

The Eras Tour, Station Letzigrund, Zurich, Switzerland N2

Closure x A Perfectly Good Heart (guitar) & Peter x Never Grow Up (piano)

July 11 - Travis films advertisement for Lowe's in Long Beach, California.

Travis participates in the American Century Championship charity golf tournament's karaoke competition in Lake Tahoe, Nevada. Travis sings belts out Whitesnake's 1982 hit "Here I Go Again." (x) Travis is awarded first place!!! He accepts his award (x)

“This is the greatest thing that’s happened this year. Taylor this is for you!”

Not sure how many drinks Travis has consumed but glad to know Taylor is on his mind!!! ; )

July 12 - Travis competing in the American Century Golf Championship with his brother Jason, Lake Tahoe, Nevada.

Travis Kelce is announced as the #1 Tight End in the NFL 2024. Taylor shows her support liking 3 IG posts below.

Go to previous update -> June part 3

Go to next update -> July part 2

Return to the timeline

[sourcherryandsprinkles]

Eras tour (new) thoughts

Not much of a fan of the new Lover bodysuit. This color doesn’t give Lover vibes for me, in the same way I could not buy another vinyl color than the blue for 1989 TV. 

Goodbye to The Archer, you were very loved by me

The new Fearless dress is cute, a nod to the Fearless tour, but the gold one with fringe remains my favorite

Jumping into Red, I loved her 22 shirt which was a nod to the ‘Ceci n’est pas une pipe’ tee shirt (I think it was a tee shirt)

The contraction of Folklore and Evermore had us saying goodbye to a few songs from both sets. Tolerate it is my biggest Eras Tour loss (along with Long Live)

This new 1989 outfit gives 1989 tour opening vibes and I love it. The mismatched shoes too!

The biggest change of the setlist: TTPD being added. I was screaming while watching the livestream with my mom

I unfortunately did not watch the whole set (my wifi cut!) but I was able to see starting from Down bad/Fortnight

The spaceship and levitating during Down bad

The smallest man who ever lived, Who’s afraid of little old me? (which I missed…), So high school (can’t wait to see Travis when she plays this one!), But Daddy I love him are really good choices for the TTPD set

Loved the outfit change/transition to I can do it with a broken heart 

ICDIWABH was the perfect ending to the TTPD set

Love the pink number for the acoustic set

She had to play Paris while in Paris

loml…I was so excited to hear this one. A personal favorite

The new Midnights bodysuit is better than the cut out one we’ve seen in the past shows

[fandominstability]

For that ask game you reblogged a couple of hours ago, Bobby and Athena :)

I didn't see this for several hours lmao

Anyways

For Bobby

favorite thing about them: the love he has for his family and the team

least favorite thing about them: how much he thinks he doesn't deserve to live. It breaks my heart

favorite line: "Give me your gun" makes me cackle every time so I'm going with it lmao

brOTP: Michael, obvs

OTP: is there any other answer than Bathena?

nOTP: uh idk Abby I guess since that was apparently gonna be a thing before Connie left

random headcanon: whenever May or Harry talks about a show or a movie that they're really interested in, he goes and watches it so that next time it's brought up he can talk about it with them

unpopular opinion: I don't know that I have one??

song i associate with them: idk maybe Forever and Ever, Amen by Randy Travis

favorite picture of them: recently I saw a gif of his face when he's walking off after handing Maurice to Athena, and it made me laugh for ten minutes so I'm gonna go with that

For Athena

favorite thing about them: I love everything about this woman, but my favorite thing is probably also gonna have to be her love for her family and how willing she is to do anything for them

least favorite thing about them: My sweet love. She is wonderful. But in the same vein as my favorite thing about her, she makes some of THE most questionable decisions when it comes to protecting her family

favorite line: "I'm Mrs. Bobby Nash" lives rent free in my head

brOTP: Hen of course

OTP: once again, there is no answer but Bathena

nOTP: idk?? I guess technically Michael?? But also there's fics tagged her/Buck/Bobby so also that

random headcanon: whenever Bobby's not home, she sleeps in one of his shirts and with his pillow

unpopular opinion: again, I don't think I really have any?? at least none that I can think of off the top of my head

song i associate with them: Lethal Woman by Dove Cameron

favorite picture of them: any picture of her. Literally all of them

[ldrfanatic]

Okay first of all.

I am so proud of you girl <333 Like literally you deserve it so much and the event is just 🛐

So I will go with a milk - Slytherin boys

My info:

I am quiet tall 5’8.5 but it’s good cause i am the biggest fashion lover. And my height let me rock fits. I am obsessed with shoes especially sneakers. I love streetwear and high fashion.

When it comes to my appearance i have dark blond/light brown wavy long hair and icy blue eyes. My friends are always making fun of me cause i got huge lips naturally and they call me either bitch face or bristlenose.

Nevertheless, I am the biggest sweetheart ever. I am always life and soul of the party and i just love people. It sometimes sucks as my friends need to protect me as I am bit too naive and trusting.

+ I love flirting. Like making boys lose their heads is my full time job. I don’t like hurting people feelings so when things can get serious i ran away as i am kinda scared of love after my father being a cheater.

When it comes to hobbies as i said Fashion is my whole life and plan for future. But i also dance i am ex hip hop now ballet dancer. And i wear headphones 24/7 listening to ASAP rocky, Plaboy Carti or Travis.

That’s all :)))))

Sending kisses to you shanty 😫 and i am so so so excited for it‼️

Bye!!!

Thank You So Much Anon!!!

1000 follower celebration my bookcase

I pair you with…. Mattheo Riddle! Hear me out:

So, Mattheo is not that much taller than you because he’s only about 6’0 but it’s perfect. He’s the perfect amount of taller than you to still be hot but not so much taller that either of you has to work too hard when you want a kiss (and kisses are very important to Mattheo)

He loves your style. Mattheo is a big fan of ass and there’s nothing that he loves more than a good paid of jeans. and with your long legs too? yeah he’s passed out.

Mattheo likes to joke but he will seriously lay out anyone that genuinely hurts your feelings or pokes fun at you for your lips. He’s dead serious. And completely unapologetic. Your eyes were definitely the first thing that he noticed about you and he’s not ashamed to admit it.

He is 100% down for protecting you and keeping you innocent and like untouched in a way. Before you started dating a lot of people warned you about Mattheo but then you realized how much of a teddy bear he is inside and that most people just only got either scary Mattheo or super flirty Mattheo.

After the two of you start dating, you guys become the center of pretty much every major happening at hogwarts. not only because you’re both super social, but also because Mattheo now focuses all of his efforts on you and can and will get distracted by your existence no matter what setting it is. (Mattheo, it’s the middle of a quidditch match, get back on your broom dawg).

He does understand that with your past and his reputation, why you might be scared. For the first few months you guys take it kind of slow. He doesn’t put any labels on anything until you’re ready but he lets you and everyone else know that he’s yours.

He loves watching you dance and will sometimes sneak into the room if he sees you dancing just to watch for a little while. He will be whatever you need him to be when you’re designing whether it’s someone to give a second opinion, hold your supplies, or just test out fabrics to tell you which ones are too scratchy.

You guys have incredibly similar tastes in Music due to the fact that Mattheo will listen to pretty much anything that he thinks has a good beat. He loves Travis and listens to a decent amount of both Jack Harlow and Rod Wave. Don’t ask him about a favorite song tho. He can’t choose.

mattheo’s nicknames for you:

- goddess (most frequent use)

- honey bunches (mostly in the beginning said it to annoy you but now it’s caught on and he can’t stop)

- will call you a siren or a temptress if you’re in a really killer dress for any kind of event or date.

TYSM for this ask. I tried to get it as detailed as possible! :)