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rachthepoet · 8 months ago

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Little Freak Analysis

An enchanting piece of poetry is track six, Little Freak, a song that is one of his strongest lyrically on the third album. Well, at least I strongly believe it to be so. On my first listen, I kinda just let the song happen to me, welcoming myself to be consumed with the depth of unadorned production and the flow of the words. It held a mesmerizing quality that left lying on my carpet, eyes shut, and letting myself be swept away on a journey. The journey from love to indifference.

With a look at the title alone, many had assumptions and expectations of sexual innuendos and delicious dirty metaphor, leaving ones tastebuds tingling similar to Watermelon Sugar. Rather, we were gifted a more contemplative piece, with such intricacies interwoven within. It's quite poignant and an emotionally mature exploration of something that once was — something that left a lasting indentation — that one tries to leave behind them. To go from love to indifference.

Here's a deep dive into Harry Styles' Little Freak, from a poet. Buckle up, my beautiful friends, it's going to be a long ride.

The Path to Neutrality

Sit with me now. Suppose I were to ask you what the opposite of love is, what would be your answer to me? If you said hate, I'm afraid you're incorrect. Rather, it's indifference, and this song chronicles the speaker's journey to reach this destination. That doesn't mean hate is completely absent, at times I feel like it's at war with indifference in some of the lines. But, to grasp the song in its full nuance, one must understand this line of growth, and how it's not shrouded in anger, but rather a willingness for inner peace.

Most of the lines in the song keep teaching the listener something new about the other person. It's worshipping, it's reverent, almost against his will and principles. Rarely does the speaker speak of himself, and when it is done, it's connected to the other or done in a degrading form. The lyrical structure hints at this relationship's dynamic, offering some background to back the intensity. This other person wielded such emotional power and control over the speaker, done directly or indirectly.

Though the control the other person has over the speaker is addressed in the lyrics with sexual connotations, I don't believe that's where it starts and ends. I mean, think of all the ways a person can be seduced: charisma, acclaim, emotional intimacy, stability, etcetera. Many factors could've been at play with how the speaker was drawn to the other person, but one thing feels certain: the speaker was fascinated and succumbing to idolization, confused with warmth. And, even as he was giving much of himself to this person, the solicitude was never truly reciprocated.

Believe it or not, that was only the nuance in the background. The history. Now to where the song is set. The speaker comes to the realization of the emotional disconnect between the two. Feeling in his veins, now, that lack of return. But he's still struck by fascination, there's still this bewitchment the other person has over him. The emotional control still lingers, with a significant residency in his mind. Little Freak captures this cyclical, maybe even Sisyphic, journey to reach peaceful neutrality that only comes with time after removing oneself from an imbalanced relationship. Specifically, capturing being in the thick of it and the bumpiness inevitable. The ache to have the power to say I'm not worried, I'm just thinking about you, and mean it. The journey from love to indifference.

Lyric Pull Apart

[VERSE 1] Little freak, (you) Jezebel

So much weight held in a first line. For any piece of writing, whether a poem, novel, or song. And my fascination for this one only expands with each listen. The use of the term Jezebel sets this precedence of perspective to be applied to the lyrics to follow. Jezebel (noun) is an impudent, shameless, or morally unrestrained woman. In the Book of Revelations, the term is symbolically associated with false prophets, and, centuries later, the connotation sticks. By the early 20th century, it was given the added association with fallen or abandoned women. Also, Jezebel is tied to an immoral woman who deceives people to gain what she desires. Colloquially, a femme fatale.

Then, the term little freak. It isn't a reference to anything particular — as far as I know anyhow — but there are still lingering connotations. Freak has its implications of otherness, of shame, and a peculiarity. It can also have associations with promiscuity. Little, especially in its preceding position, can speak of youth, but also dismissiveness, as if the person is not to be taken seriously. And, contrast to the other connotations, it can also be a term of endearment.

Piece the terms little freak and Jezebel together, and a vivid portrait of the other party takes shape. This person, implied to be a woman, is a false prophet, licentious and deviant — one who still holds great emotional power over the speaker. A woman he still has lingering endearment towards, even after realizing the imbalance and lack of reciprocation. In my heart, it feels like a reflection of the verse from the closer of the second album: "You sunshine, you temptress." But, I admit, that could be me searching for connections wherever I roam.

[VERSE 1] You sit high atop the kitchen counter Stay green a little while

As we journey further into all the verses, the portrait will grow. For right now, You sit high atop the kitchen counter brings in a separation of those above and those below, with a pedestal being built. Representative of something desirable he yearns for, but just can't manage to reach. There's a vivid implication of something sensual with the connotation of a jezebel, but the mood of the song is so soft and so delicate, much so that it feels as if we're invited to go beyond that immediate impression. Given, the pedestal.

In this song, the speaker has reverence for this woman, a kind of idolization, even as it sticks with him against his will. In his writings prior, kitchens have been a repeated motif in speaking of love, relationships, and even glorification of domesticity. Given, the kitchen is a traditionally domestic section of the home, and with its constant reappearance, the speaker romanticizes settling down with someone. Maybe this expands the false prophet characterization of the little freak.

Now, the coupled Stay green a little while. Though the line prior uses you, this is the first line where we hear dialogue intended directly to Little Freak. Or, at least, that's the implication I experienced. The color green has two main implications attached: jealousy [the infamous green-eyed monster of envy] or naivety [etymology comes from trees since saplings are green until they fully mature to develop brown bark]. In the context of this song, I'm partial to the latter option. On a personal note, I think of Joni Mitchell's Little Green, a sweet and tender song for someone you don't really know, but there's this feeling on a deep intuitive level that they'll grow to be a part of you. But let's get back on with it now!

I find this an inversion of the typical story of a Jezebel seducing a man to sin — rather, the speaker aches to preserve her innocence and her naivety, which has a likelihood of being a false characterization done on the speaker's part, as part of his idolization of her. There's also this aura of a wish to remove the rush, as maybe they never found a sync with one another. Again, returning to the concept of her up on a pedestal, something he just can't reach. It adds more complication to the portraiture of Little Freak.

Piece the two lines together as one couplet: You sit high atop the kitchen counter / Stay green a little while. He wishes for Little Freak to remain how she was when she was new and evergreen to him, before he came to see her for the falsified prophet she truly is. Before the pedestal he built and placed her upon came crumbling down to dust. Though Little Freak grew into him fervently, much of her remains a mystery to him, except this moment that stuck in his mind, even after it all fell apart. Little Freak is promiscuous and conniving, but she's also swinging her feet as she's atop the counter in his kitchen, radiating a childlike quality. Like the facade slipped for a moment, and he aches to return to that.

[VERSE 1] You bring blue lights to dreams Starry haze, crystal ball

You bring blue lights to dreams offers yet another chance to have a discussion about colors and their connotions. Historically, the color blue has been associated with negative emotions, such as sadness, but there's more to this color. Other connotations could apply to this line, such as: introspectivity, relaxation, and stability. The Little Freak may bring a sense of stability and security to him, something seducing, even though it all could be false. Additionally, I believe the song itself is an introspective one, so that ties to the color association, too.

Or, the color blue predominating in one's dreams can indicate an intuitive feeling to communicate one's feelings, counseling one to speak their truth or to consult their inner advice. Also, reverting back to that connotation of relaxation, a blue-toned dream could represent the mind's attempt to find inner peace again and reduce tension. So, he could be chronicling where he felt a shift occur. Where he felt tension bubbling and growing, and his inner conscious was telling him to stop repressing his intuition of Little Freak's true nature.

Starry haze, crystal ball, at first, felt like lines put in the sake of the rhythm. But, after some time spent with it, I see this illustrating him equating this woman with a mystical thing, something that transcends the basic understanding. The use of the haze implies that things are blurry and unclear — unable to see the bigger picture and can't find the answers. Add in the adjective starry and it almost becomes an oxymoron, but that's if you take starry in the literal sense — per usual, I'll be taking the more abstract route. Starry as in the stars as in celebrities as celebrity culture. Therefore, the haze of uncertainty is caused by the uncertainness that comes with experiencing fame and prominence.

Uncertainty — found in the haze — is often followed closely behind by the search for answers, which leads us to the crystal ball. So desperate for answers that one reaches toward the otherworldly matters. Interestingly, crystal balls are almost always depicted filled with smoke or a haze of some sorts, and the seer is the one that can see through it all to read the future. But, the main takeaway I feel is his burning questions regarding life and love, left confused in this dynamic with Little Freak. So, he's seeking answers. Maybe he thought she would've contained the answers he's been searching for? Maybe she did at one time? Before the pedestal came crumbling down?

Time to piece the two lines together! You bring blue lights to dreams / Starry haze, crystal ball. Separately and united, this captures a haunting sense of fickleness, if I had to narrow it down to one word. And from that fickleness grew tension, and from that tension grew a desperation for truth and for answers. And in that is a significant shift documented, I believe.

[VERSE 1] Somehow, you've become some paranoia A wet dream just dangling But your gift is wasted on me

He has grown hyper-attuned to Little Freak and her presence (or lack thereof), festering a feeling of disquiet concerning her and aspects of her. Somehow, you've become some paranoia highlights a sense of panic, but unintentional circumstances. Whether it was initiated by the speaker himself or Little Freak is unclear, but deliberate it was not. Importantly, paranoia ties in with obsession, highlighting that Little Freak has become an obsession to him. In my mind, the paranoia centers around realization — realizing just how much he's lost of himself equalizing with how deep he's fallen in. But, also, chasing that green, incorrupt version of Little Freak could be his obsession, his paranoia. The one he recalls seeing earlier in this first verse. He doesn't want to face that his perception of her has fallen, has crumbled, that she was a prophet in his head that became falsified. Maybe even that could be classified as paranoia.

A wet dream just dangling brings back in the pedestal imagery. Something desirable he yearns for, but just can't seem to reach. Just can't seem to get grasp onto. There's going to always be something dangling there in front of him, ready to be taken away at her will, never his. This is an important dynamic to remember. A wet dream doubles down on the existing sexualization introduced earlier. Dangling echoes that pedestal implication, mixed in with the temptation imagery of a Jezebel. She's a dream, a fascination, an enchantment oh so tempting to him.

But your gift is wasted on me is the first time where we really see the speaker address himself, and it's done in a degradation. The dynamic between Little Freak and him is the above and the below, which the preceding line explored. Whenever he speaks of her, we get a fleshed out portraiture. But whenever he speaks of himself in relation to her, he lowers himself in comparison. He doesn't value himself as an equal in the relationship, whether it's done by his own will and refusal, or influenced by Little Freak herself. Which is how I believe that there could've been an emotional power imbalance within this duo's dynamic, and this song chronicles his journey to indifference as he tries to pull away from the deep emotional pull and influence she had on him.

(pulling from pinterest boards to break this up because i know i'm putting you through a whole lot!)

[CHORUS (1ST ITERATION)] I was just thinkin' about who you are Your delicate point of view I was thinkin' about you I'm not worried about where you are Or who you will go home to I'm just thinkin' about you Just thinkin' about you

The first iteration of the chorus, the first time the listener hears these words. You is implied to be speaking to Little Freak, I assume. A common habit I find in Harry's writing is the use of dismissive language, and I like to assume these things are never done without intention. Using words such as just and by the way make the songs more conversational and like casual confessions within the moment it happens. And, I've always heard this chorus like he's trying to convince himself he's totally casual when thinking about Little Freak, and trying to convince himself he totally didn't fall too hard for this false prophet he pedestalized. He's trying hard to instantly reach that indifference, but it always takes more time.

Also, we go further into his own self-dismissiveness in relation to her, as he also makes the talks of his own emotions more casual, as if he doesn't see the importance of them in comparison to the other's.

I was just thinkin' about who you are captures the same sense of wonder, enchantment, and obsession that's already been established. But, see, he's totally casual about it now. He's always thinking, thinking, thinking and it seems to be centered to this enigma, of which he has the grandest knowledge but simultaneously none at all. Even, if you want, reflection after the realization.

Your delicate point of view is so soft, so gentle, and sets up another opportunity for idolization by painting her perspective as something nuance and intricate, filled to the brim with depths that intrigue him. Yet it also feels delicate, something fragile and breakable. Even the lyric itself, in the simple way it's done, mimics the symbolism — it sounds so decadent to the ear, but you can feel the thin layers that refine it. Followed then by another round of I was just thinkin' about you, trying to further reinforce that he's totally casual about this. Totally casual. Totally indifferent. (But, damn, is he really?)

I'm not worried about where you are / Or who you will go home to reiterates to me that his obsession and paranoia is focused on the starry image of her, and her only. He holds onto this fascination with Little Freak and the lasting imprint she had on him emotionally and even psychologically, with no extra preoccupations with any relationships that might've come after their companionship.

I'm just thinkin' about you / Just thinkin' about you really just sounds to me as if he's trying to convince himself that it's casual. The word just has to be one of my favorite words to use. Anyway.

[VERSE 2] Did you dress up for Halloween? I spilled beer on your friend, I'm not sorry

Onto the second verse, shall we? The questioning of what Little Freak did over a holiday illustrates distance, a factor implied from the start but in case one needed the extra confirmation. And I think the first verse and the second have an intriguing contrast to them. I'll explain. The first verse has a heavy focus on the sexual prowess who's a mystical enigma, more of an idea. Now, within the second verse, he's focused more on the details of her daily intricacies, almost as if we've disconnected from the sensual spell. And I think sensing this small change in direction is essential, as it emphasizes how this song is chronicling that journey from bewitchment to nonchalance.

I spilled beer on your friend, I'm not sorry is such a funny line to me and I love it so, but its humor doesn't negate its importance. Maybe now she's dressing up for Halloween, and she's surrounded by friends he doesn't quite jive with. Like I mentioned before, with each verse, this portrait of Little Freak gets more fleshed out. But, the speaker is bringing himself into the second verse much more than the first. And with less severe self degradation. This also emphasizes the journey that the speaker is taking. It's a moment of levity, this line, but also the last bit could hold a meaning that goes beyond. Maybe he needed the humor deflection to address Little Freak, to say directly I'm not sorry? (Just a possibility thrown out.)

[VERSE 2] A golf swing and a trampoline Maybe we'll do this again

The first line of this pairing evokes an amplification of movement, a dramatization almost. This song does that very well, I fear. But, more distinctly, this song also took courses at the Keep Driving School of Lyricism in the stylistic choice I see. Vivid, specific imagery, but isolated from context — this comment extends throughout the second verse. The writer/speaker has a moment in their mind, a memory or two being recalled, but the context is inaccessible to us as listeners. But, in addition to all of this, I believe we are amid some juxtaposition.

A golf swing and a trampoline is juxtaposition number one, and filled with some symbolism. He can be represented by the golf swing — serene, pointed, calm in its position — while the Little Freak's representation is within the trampoline — high energy, loose form, and more chaotic. This could reflect the juxtaposing nature of the dynamic between the two, returning back to that mystical enigma characterization of Little Freak — but it holds less of a power now, I think. Here, with the addition of Maybe we'll do this again, I think we're either in a moment of memory or playing with the prospect of meeting someone new. In regards to the latter, I kind of hear as him thinking maybe he can experience this again. Maybe it wasn't this once-in-a-lifetime experience he's overexaggerated in his mind by placing Little Freak on that pedestal.

[VERSE 2] Tracksuit and a ponytail You hide the body all that yoga gave you

This, to me, feels like another step towards separating himself from the bewitching image he's drawn of Little Freak. There's focus drawn to her body, but I don't hear this as being inherently sexual. The first verse had such intense sensual undertones that it was nearly impossible to not pick up on them. Things were felt intensely in general, and it was depicted through even the word choice back there. In the second verse, everything feels much more subdued, down to the more simplistic language used. Again, utilized this contrast to chronicle the journey from love's fascination to indifference's calm.

Tracksuit and a ponytail / You hide the body all that yoga gave you is an observation of Little Freak, but not fueled by sexual urges or gaze. He notices their body, but he hasn't fallen down to his knees because of the enchanting Jezebel nature used to paint Little Freak prior. Growth is happening, growth inside of the speaker. As he tries his best to move towards nonchalance. But remember this song isn't the destination, but rather the process.

[VERSE 2] Red wine and a ginger ale But you would make fun of me, for sure

Oh, look how we've jumped back on the juxtaposition train. But, this second juxtaposition is more nuanced, maybe, for it can simultaneously exist as a non-juxtaposition. Have I intrigued you yet? We'll start with the juxtaposition interpretation considering how we're already talking about juxtapositions. Is there a record for how many times one can say that word?

Red wine and a ginger ale, for now, are two separate entities. Already, alcoholic and non alcohol offer a natural balance in opposites. But let's go deeper. Red wine — and due to the album's previous track, "Grapejuice", I attribute this side to the speaker — can be symbolic of a more mature mindset while ginger ale can represent the more petulant. This may even fluctuate from person to person, but it's another moment of reflecting the dynamic of the speaker and his Little Freak.

But, one can also put the two together as a collective. Red wine and a ginger ale as one drink, which I haven't tried on my own, so I can't vouch for how that hits on the tongue. But, I can tell you how it hits in the mind. Was that bad? Oh boy. We have to, naturally, bring in the accompanying line: But you would make fun of me, for sure. The first line is the speaker's drink order while the second line is the speaker reiterating Little Freak's response. And it's interesting that the second line begins with the word But, like her reaction is significant enough to cause an interruption in his routine. Again, another peak into the dynamic. I would order red wine and a ginger ale, but I won't because you'll make fun of me.

With But you would make fun of me, for sure, we can go the lighthearted route or the more troubled. Let's start with the less taxing on the brain. Lightheartedly, a playfulness is established for Little Freak's character, and it's just another one of her traits that's stuck in the speaker's mind even after time has passed. But, driving down the troubled route, it establishes his need for her approval, and his hyperawareness of the lack of it. Maybe she always found a way to point of the contrasts between him, like we've seen him illustrate in his own way here, using it as an intentional dig.

I nicknamed the second verse as the hindsight verse, for he looks back on aspects of the dynamic with his Little Freak after gaining the needed distance and time. With that separation, he's able to see things a bit clearer, and see where he let fascination roam further than his intuition of the heart. Love and fascination, it was hard for him to find the difference when it came to Little Freak. But, I find there's this ever-present uneasiness wading beneath the words, highlighting a sense of insecurity in comparison to, once again, the false prophet. And, with hindsight, he's seeing it all.

[CHORUS (2ND ITERATION)] I was just thinkin' about who you are Your delicate point of view I was thinkin' about you I'm not worried about where you are Or who you will go home to I'm just thinkin' about you Just thinkin' about you

Second iteration of the chorus. With more context and distance from the Little Freak induced mania chronicled, these same words read differently with each go-around. Isn't that so cool? Like I said in context of the second verse, the speaker comes to us with more hindsight. Now, the casual tone feels laced with more genuine intent rather than the facade. But, don't be mistaken. The charm of Little Freak still is looming, but it has shifted. Instead of being in awe of the mystical, his fascination has moved to what she's doing in his absence, as preluded in the second verse. Still a fascination, but much less under an enchantment.

The journey from love to indifference continues. At the first iteration of the chorus, with only the first verse to go off of, the I-totally-don't-care-at-all attitude felt like a one-man show going on. Totally unbelievable. Now, with the hindsight verse giving us, well, hindsight, there's a sense of growth when we come back to the same chorus we heard before. And none of the words themselves changed, just the progression of the story told. The journey chronicled.

[VERSE 3/BRIDGE] I disrespected you Jumped in feet first and I landed too hard A broken ankle, karma rules

Oh, this bridge. I risk losing my voice whenever this part plays in my ears. The shortest verse in the song, yet holds so much weight in every word. Its abrupt length aids to its impact. A technique used amongst poets all the time, where there's an intentional jarring shift in a established rhythm. The brain and the ear now anticipate a certain rhythm, so when the audience is caught off guard, it draws even more emphasis to the line, amplifying that message. Lyrically, so well done. Truly, it's pure poetry. And we have to take it line by line. But, before we do that, allow me to direct your attention to this bridge as a whole.

If this song was ever adapted to a play's structure, this would be his monologue scene, a single spotlight as he stands alone on stage. It's the only verse in the song where we're solely speaking of him and his feelings, with no mention of Little Freak unless it's in relation. Which is a complete turnaround from where we were at the start of the song. Growth, baby, we have growth! The speaker finally leans into himself and comes to see just how much he let himself go, and how much of a silly danger he put himself in. And part of getting to here is acknowledging his own faux pas.

I disrespected you is the first phrase sung, and that cuts deep. It's more than just hurting someone or not treating them well, and the word choice has to be intentional here. Within this theory, the string goes back to how he made a prophet of her and built a pedestal too high, as he projected a woman onto her that she was not. He's admitting to his own flaw, his own hand in the crumbling.

Jumped in feet first and I landed too hard follows not too far after, and I do think I disrespected you could be intertwined with this, too. My assumption is that pulls from a classic English idiomatic metaphor, Jumped in feet first, which means being too eager and rushing into something. With the context of a relationship, it's signaled through metaphor hat one person fell a lot more in love with the other, and the love in reference is usually deep and intense — otherwise, it wouldn't matter the difference. The speaker threw himself into the relationship with his Little Freak, but soon confronted with a reality of how she didn't see him the same, and maybe even as something less.

"I was too eager and rushed into something I wasn't prepared for. I feel more in love with you than you could ever be with me, and maybe I don't deserve your love. I threw myself into these moments with you, but wasn't prepared to witness it not reciprocated..."

A broken ankle, karma rules comes after, and, of course, this connects to the line preceding it. The line pulls a reference to the Causality Principle found in some Eastern philosophies that highlight for every action, there must be a consequence. Therefore, a continued metaphor. Breaking an ankle while jumping feet first into a relationship that never truly wanted him that invested. A highly emotional investor gets put down as there's a lack of investment in him. And, the phrasing, Karma rules as in Karma reigns, and he starkly believes he got what he deserved in his lack of thought before actions when around Little Freak.

"I was the one who got hurt (note the use of singulars), because of the karma on me for trying to rush things with a childlike eagerness you never wanted to love me the same for..."

[VERSE 3/BRIDGE] You never saw my birthmark

This line deserved its own beloved section. Hell, it deserves its own frame in a special room in the Louvre. In the eloquent 3 minutes and 22 seconds of this song, this is my favorite line. Five words but manages to hold nine seasons of a story.

A birthmark is a very personal part of one's body, something one would likely show to a lover or a partner in an act of intimacy. But, birthmarks can be in plain sight, but one who never truly pays attention to someone could never notice the finer details, like little intricacies of their body. You never saw my birthmark speaks to a lack of deep intimacy, the lack of being known, for to be loved is to be known. On the most basic, surface level, they were never naked with one another, despite all the sexual underlays. But, it goes so much deeper than that. He knows that Little Freak never saw his true self and that he never revealed these deeper parts to them — or, maybe he did, but they just never reciprocated the same level of attention and investment that he gave. And this belief — to be loved is to be known — is something investigated in other writings through the side branch of communication. It's something craved, though he might not always be giving the best contribution to it, but the flaw is admitted. Like he did in this song.

"You never saw the real side of me, you never looked past the surface of who I was to get to know the soft intricate parts of my being. All the while, I noticed all these details about you and made a portrait of you in my head. [... One I proceeded to memorialize in a song. Just saying. I guess...]"

[CHORUS (3RD ITERATION)] I was just thinkin' about who you are Your delicate point of view I was thinkin' about you I'm not worried about where you are Or who you will go home to I'm just thinkin' about you Just thinkin' about you

Third and final iteration of the chorus. Coming after that heart wrenching ending line of the bridge, the same words feel like healing. And this is where I remind you how the journey from love to indifference is a journey ever going, and we aren't going to land at our set destination just yet. Rather, things in life and things on the mend remain in flux. But, throughout the song, we have witnessed growth. The casual tone, the almost shrug in the words, seems more prominent afterwards. And, sure, maybe he hasn't reached complete neutrality and indifference yet in regards to the mystical Little Freak that was once his, but he's treading along.

Had to step away and take a deep breath. Gotta have a moment for a few concluding words because I'm aware this analysis was a doozy.

Little Freak, a delicate masterpiece, is a poesy piece about love, but it's not a love song by any means. It's an introspective song into one's oblivion when finding out the person made a prophet in the head doesn't live up to your projected expectations. It's a song encapsulating the often permanent change of love. Seeing that love is never wasted, even if it's painful to look back and see how silly you became as you succumbed to imbalanced dynamics. To learn that the opposite of love isn't hate, but rather that moment when you find yourself nonchalant at the mention of their name. And that shit takes time, and you must allow yourself to feel the feelings through.

dedicated to this anon <3

Thank you for reading, you're absolutely incredible! If there are any songs you'd like me to make an analysis of, please send your request to my inbox! along with any questions or insights you might have yourself!

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teamaerialcombo · 2 months ago

Note

HI! HI! I'M THE GUY FROM AO3 IF IT WASN'T OBVIOUS FROM MY CRUSH 40 THEMED BLOG!!

(note . i might be reaching with A LOT of this stuff but this is MY special interest and hyperfixation and i get to say what i want. also i think you'd understand what i mean when i say things)

so, let's get one thing out of the way. on it's own, i am all of me is both a v1 song and a gabriel song on their own in my head

^ this, to me, is v1. the "black writing" in my head is directed towards the writings found on the murals of gabriel in 4-3. "unleashed a million faces / and one by one they fall" all the husks and demons in hell being there for who knows how long, before the machines (or in this case, just v1) come around and start killing them all off. in the grand scheme, v1 is the villain in this story (killing the denizens of hell without mercy, even with a reason thats still a villain), the "black hearted evil", but at the end of the day is still the protagonist, the "brave hearted hero"

^ and this is gabriel. it REALLY reminds me of his monologues to v1, but the beginning is what really sells it. those first two lines really encapsulate who he is as a character, or at least who he was before v1 came around- a weapon for the council (who, if you REALLY wanted to reach for it can also be seen as the evil in this case, and these two lines can be seen as him killing the council). "i laugh and watch you fall" can be seen as the fight in 6-2, going from a accusatory anger to manic laughter. and again, story-wise, gabriel is the antagonist, the main person against the protagonist, v1 (and also was the villain of the past lore, killing off minos & sisyphus most notably when they tried to make hell better). but he's the "hero" of this story (if you think more towards just the current part of ultrakill and not the past lore that takes place beforehand), trying to stop the villain, v1.

now, how does this all tie into gabv1el? simple. two different things. one, i like thinking about how those two verses mentioned above would play out if they said these things to one another, especially with gabriel's end. the manic laughter he has in 6-2 is probably one of the strongest forces the gabv1 fanbase has to show the canonicity of the ship, and "i laugh and watch you fall" really reflects there to me

but also the chorus of the song is? very gabv1 in my head?

like this really reminds me of the almost. i don't want to say OBSESSIVE nature of gabv1el since i know they can be a lot more than that but that's definitely slightly part of it. their obsession with each other that drives them closer (pun only slightly intended) to one another. "capture you or set you free" too. it can be seen from either perspective of the two. for v1, kill gabriel like its programming wants it to or let him live. for gabriel it's the same- kill v1 like how he was supposed to although, now he really has no reason to do so), or let it live to keep observing it and watching its movements and actions (which we have slight proof of him already doing! his dialogue in 6-1). you could also see "can you see all of me? / walk into my mystery" as gabriel talking to v1. he knows about v1 but v1 doesn't know about him. as you play the game more you learn about him through terminals, so by that logic v1 ALSO learns as it progress more, or "walks" into the mystery.

this part also applies to what was said above^

anyways! all in all i think this song for SURE is v1 & gabriel respectively and if you really reach it can be gabv1el. there's definitely crush 40 songs that are more gabv1el than this one (like down & dirty or 2 nights 2 remember) but hey. it's a fun challenge to connect just about anything to crush 40 whenever possible :p

hope you enjoyed my deranged sleep-deprived late-at-night rambles LOLL this was a fun one to yap yap yap about

dude i literally need Everyone to see this analysis. it is So Epic. i get you op i rlly do [shakes your hand in being a sonic & ultrakill fan]

#+ AIRTHROW #answers #ultrakill #sonic the hedgehog #gabv1el #bro... u cooked.#like i never thought i'd see the day where my fav song [from one of my fav franchises] would get analyzed to be about one of my ships #from one of my favorite games...

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itspileofgoodthings · 6 months ago

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✨

#thinking about Taylor’s particular brand of greatness #and how it is the mark of so many of my very favorite most enduring artists #which is: speaking the language of the common people but just a little bit above their heads #so she scoops them up in her hand and lifts them up #without them even knowing that it’s happening #this is why (imo!!!!!!) she is still one of the most underrated artists we have today #because all the success and all the numbers and all the crowds—that’s not proper critical estimation/conversation #that is just the common people responding because dat’s what they DO #it’s like Mindy Kaling commenting on the magic of the eras tour being the way every single person in attendance #(or so it seemed) knew every word to every song #like they’re just vibing because they KNOW #and as NATHANIEL HAWTHORNE SAID IN THE SCARLET LETTER #when a crowd judges not with its mind but with ITS GREAT BEATING HEART #it generally judges without error #and with artists like that estimation comes with TIME #and that’s what I think is going on with Taylor #I think anyway. I could be wrong. and many people I know would laugh at me #but it FEELS so true to me! in my bones!!!!!!!!!!!#these tags brought to you by me listening to August 3 times in a row and being blown away by what a great song it is #but not in a way where you can analyze it. it just carries you on a wave #and that’s part of the greatness #I say common people without condescension btw. I am one of them!

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1134soup · 4 months ago

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Bridge over troubled water is a great album about an artist’s relationship with their art (and with Art Garfunkel) and like each song fits in perfectly with it so even though I think Cuba Sí Nixon No is a fun song and I wish I could listen to it on streaming services, I think the song would be crazy out of place and would be terrible as the last song

#groovyposting #simon and garfunkel #I like the song a LOT #but like each song is placed perfectly in the album and it wouldn’t work without it #like the only song that’s technically out of place on the album is baby driver but I feel like the album would feel off without it #and baby driver is one of my favorite songs #and when I mean out of place I mean out of place for my whole thesis #Im really just prepping for my AP lit exam by analyzing the album #hooray

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musicrunsthroughmysoul · 7 months ago

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If I weren't so obsessive I would casually message back a certain redheaded man and say "Oh yeah, and because I was ignorant, I didn't fucking realize that YOU wrote the music for that song that has become one of my all-time favorite songs ever, so thank you again for that, and you're now one of my favorite songwriters. Bless you."

#I wrote that whole fucking analysis and SHARED IT and HE READ IT and I never realized that he was the one who wrote the music for it.#the moment I realized that I had a TPATH/M*ke C*mpb*ll flashback spiral of despair. not even embarrassment. just despair.#I absolutely fucking HATE giving the wrong people the credit. especially for things (like songs/music) that I love so so much.#idk if he'd be like 'uh okay thanks. I didn't write the lyrics though which was the main thing you analyzed but okay.' LOL STIIIIIIIILL.#maybe one day if I ever see that band live (which is very very VERY unlikely) I can tell him in person. which would be...well I would cry.#and I can imagine that he'd tease me over it but DUDE. *HE* WROTE THE MUSIC for one of my FAVORITE SONGS. YES I'd cry. :')#especially if I got to hear it live first which...well if they didn't play it then I would berate him for that first. LMAO

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atropinenightshade · 6 months ago

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I will do another song-prequels analysis with Rafal this time, eventually.

It also matches my picture of Peter Pan, since the song was inspired by Lord of the Flies if I am not wrong. The Neverland depicted by Soman reminded me so much of that story, which I read before Fall. The whole war reminded me of it. But that is another topic.

#mara posts #sge #school for good and evil #rise of the school for good and evil #fall of the school for good and evil #rafal mistral #peter pan #trotsge #fotsge #mara analyzes #this song has been one of my favorites since i was a kid #even if it did have a bad word #and actually one of my favorite lines had the bad word #i liked it because i felt the anger and disappointment from afar

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qlossytbh · 9 months ago

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https://vm.tiktok.com/ZGeuQ8EA6/

I am obsessed with this edit!

Can you do a spencer reid x bau reader where she is very closed off emotionaly so he doesnt know if she likes him back or not until she does the little "tuck her hair behind her ears thing"?

𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐝𝐨𝐮𝐛𝐥𝐞 𝐭𝐮𝐜𝐤 - 𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐢𝐝 𝐱 𝐛𝐚𝐮!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬 you were someone spencer found very hard to read. that is until the day of your birthday, where you accidentally do the infamous double tuck

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 PURE FLUFF, my beloved awkward spence <3

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 2.5k

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 this is so sickeningly sweet. my heart is literally about to implode, they’re so awkward and wholesome. this request was so fucking cute i just had to do something with it

𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐢𝐝 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 | 𝐦𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

"Garcia!" You smiled sweetly, immediately infecting those around with a mirror of your very smile. You held one of your favorite candles between your hands, tracing the glass beneath your fingertips— You had just been meaning to buy a new one.

Garcia beamed proudly, knowing she had nailed your birthday gift, a task many deemed imposible. It’s not that you were hard to please, not at all. You had always been closed off with those around you, opting to talk very little about yourself and allowing people to talk a lot about themselves, which is what people nowadays loved doing. As a profiler, you knew exactly how to prevent prying eyes from seeing anything past the depths of yours.

However, to Spencer particularly, it was absolutely infuriating to not be able to read you properly. Any hypothesis he made up in his head based on any of your gazes, your gestures, your small quirks and antics— only turned out being proven wrong since you'd completely redirect him in an opposite direction to what he believed you were thinking.

He was constantly thrown off by you, and Spencer wasn't the type of person who particularly enjoyed being wrong or not being able to perfectly calculate and analyze a situation. His job was profiling after all.

There was a single reason and he tried to remain completely oblivious. But he knew that the only reason as to why he wanted so desperately to know about you was because he liked you— he really liked you.

As in 'became a blabbering mess around you' liked you, as in 'couldn't formulate a coherent sentence around you' liked you— It was so hard for him to act normal around you. Anytime you appeared out of no where, asking how his day had been, and offering another one of those teeth-rottening sweet smiles, he'd go blank and feel utterly stupid. Every aspect of being a genius vanished into thin air when it came to you.

Morgan teased him persistently, being able to see his fuming crush from a mile away. Spencer sat down quietly, watching you hug Garcia happily as you sat the candle down onto your desk. When you pulled away, you tucked a single strand of hair behind one ear, smiling brightly.

"So, has she done it yet?" Morgan inquired, appearing right behind Spencer as he watched you silently from his own desk. Spencer flinched, turning immediately in his chair, looking over at his fellow co-worker and friend like a deer caught in headlights. He used his hand to push Morgan's face away from his with a shove. Garcia, who accompanied Morgan, stood by the side, bemused entirely by the situation .

Morgan lowered his tone, lacing it with implicit teases that flew past his familiar smirk. He leaned against Spencer's desk. "So how's the stalking going Lover boy?"

Garcia laughed to herself unwittingly while she mixed her coffee around in her mug with a spoon. Spencer glowered at the two of them.

"I'm not stalking," He defended matter of factly. "And stop with the 'lover boy'"

"But that's what you'd call someone who's head over heels for our dear little—" Morgan began saying in a sing-song voice as he poked at Spencer's cheek, desperate to get a reaction out of his constant teasing. With a firm slap, Spencer shooed him away, blushing profusely.

"I'm not.!" He fussed. Garcia let out a soft snort, to which Spencer was not amused by. In the slightest.

"Really?" Garcia asked, almost in amusement. The only one truthfully believing what Spencer was saying was himself.

"I'm just looking t-to—" Spencer pulled his lips into a flat line, unable to come up with a plausible excuse quick enough. "—to figure out what she may want for her birthday."

Garcia and Morgan exchanged a brief glance before simultaneously regarding Spencer. He sputtered, still glaring at them.

"What?!"

"Oh nothing.." Garcia took a sip of her coffee with a smirk. "Has she done it yet?"

"I asked the same thing!" Derek turned to Garcia. They laughed together as if one big secret was being tossed around in front of everyone and no one else knew. Spencer furrowed his brows, looking at them oodly.

"Done what?" Spencer couldn't help but ask, curiosity tickling him.

"The double tuck," Garcia stated, looking back over at Reid. The furrow in Spencer's brow deepened as he opened his mouth to speak.

"The—what?"

Derek then proceeded to give a very specific demonstration of whatever it was Garcia was talking about. Derek batted his lashes, putting on the most innocent face he could muster and giggled nervously as he pretended to tuck hair behind both ears. Spencer cringed at his antics while Garcia let out a laugh.

"When she really likes a guy and gets nervous she tucks her hair behind both ears at the same time,"

Spencer looked back over at you as you handed a fellow co-worker a few files, talking aimlessly. You threw your head back laughing at something the woman who chatted with you had said and Spencer couldn't stop a small smile from creeping it’s way onto his face.

"She hasn't," He said, still looking at you intently. Garcia and Derek shared a look and with one more sip of coffee, she added.

"She will.”

"Watch out lover boy, she'll catch you staring—" Morgan whispered in Spencer's ear, which only caused him to reach back in protest and slap Derek away. He turned to glare at him while Morgan laughed.

You thanked Garcia one final time and turned your attention over at Morgan who was now laughing in a way that you felt intrigued enough to want to be involved in whatever it was the two of them were laughing at. You tilted your head slightly to the side, furrowing your brows with a smile.

"What's so funny over there boys?" Penelope asked, lips curving into a sly smirk while she crossed her arms across her body. Spencer froze, looking over at you immediately.

"Uh— we, uhm—" He stammered, cheeks beginning to buzz with heat. Before he could dig his grave any deeper, JJ and Emily walked into the room singing happy birthday with a tray of cupcakes in their hands.

You turned to them, eyes blowing wide. A nervous laugh erupted out of you, causing you to lower your face and hide it in your hands, feeling profusely embarrassed. Getting this kind of public attention wasn’t something you preferred, and it made you wonder if there was anyone that truthfully enjoyed getting their chants of happy birthday’s in public.

Spencer’s could practically feel and hear the way his heart bursted in his chest as he watched you crinkle your face in embarrassment. It was evident on every single fraction of his face— the awe that pooled behind his irises and the way his cheeks were tainted a specific shade of pink.

"Someone's fallin'—" Derek started.

"Shut up."

The day had gone by swiftly. It had been a slow and uneventful day, so no crimes were up for reviewing. You had instead, been drowned in paperwork that had your back aching by the end of the day.

However, being surrounded by all of your friends and receiving so much appreciation and love on your special day had been a plus, urging you further to push throughout the rest of the day.

Hotch had given you an okay to leave early, and knowing that your parents were waiting for you to take you out for your birthday dinner, you hurriedly packed up your things into your purse.

On your way out, you shot a goodbye to everyone with a bright smile plastered across your features. As you walked past Spencer's desk, you offered him a brief glance accompanied with a small wave. “Bye Spence,"

He waved back woefully, blinking rapidly and pressing his lips into a tight smile that inched sideways. Not wanting to give himself the pleasure of gawking at you further, he turned to his files, swirling his pen in his hand nervously.

Someone cleared their throat, catching Spencer's attention. He turned seeing JJ, Emily and Morgan peering over at him from their respective desks.

"Really?" Emily pinched the skin between her eyebrows with frustration.

"What?" Suddenly he was feeling mortified that all his co-workers had been watching his entire inner-turmoil.

"Did you even give her the gift you spent weeks putting together?" JJ tested, resting her chin in her hand. Spencer looked away sheepishly, scribbling something onto his paper and not entirely sure how JJ knew about it.

"I— I forgot.." He said, voice small while he tripped over his own words.

"Reid, just get out there," Derek urged. He was beginning to get restless with watching the two of you ghost around eachother like two idiots.

Spencer stopped scribbling and glanced over at you briefly as you walked out the main door that lead towards the elevators. He looked back over to the others who all shot him a look of encouragement. He supposed that it wouldn't be a bad idea just to— you know, give you your present.

The impulse in him was screaming and yelling at him to just get up and chase after you. But another part of him was forcing him to stay glued to his desk, letting you leave yet again.

It really didn't help him not being sure where you stood when it came to your friendship. At times, he’d get the smallest intuition that maybe, just even possibly, you were on the same page as him, but the insecurity that lingered within him was loud enough to prevent him from ever doing anything about it.

He had to get over himself— it was just a present. Everyone had given you one except him, and he didn't want you thinking he didn't care. He knew he didn't give it to you not because he didn't care but because he cared too much and he felt really scared that maybe by giving you his gift you may not—

He clapped his eyes shut, realizing he really had to stop overthinking and just, in the ‘wise’ words of Morgan, 'shoot his shot'.

Spencer, peered down at his pocket, and back over at the door.

You pushed the glass door open, looking down at your phone and tugging your scarf up to cover your nose from the piercing cold.

"Y/n!" You turned, surprised to see Spencer running through the lobby and out the main door, catching up to you.

You watching him, wide-eyed and taken aback as he jogged up to you, opening his mouth to say something but having to lean over to catch his breath. He didn’t know if it had been the brief run or the unforeseen anxiety that caused him to run out of breathe— whichever it was, he needed to work on it.

You let out a soft laugh, finding his behavior amusing. “You okay?”

You followed him with your gaze while he finally straightened himself. No words were said as his chest heaved. He looked into your eyes, immediately regretting it as his rapid pulse hammered against his head. You too began to feel your heart begin to pick up its pace until you found yourself reaching up and tucking your hair behind both ears, looking at the floor sheepishly

And there it was.

Spencer's mind stopped running the second he registered your movements and Garcia's words flashed across his mind so quickly he almost didn’t remember.

"When she really likes a guy and gets nervous she tucks her hair behind both ears at the same time,"

"I, uhm—" He started, trying to prevent a grin from rising onto his face at his newfound information.

You watched him curiously, starting to wonder if his cheeks were turning pink due to how cold it was or if he was possibly blushing.

Spencer reached into his pocket and took out a small chained bracelet. It was small and dainty— nothing too flashy or flamboyant. He held his slightly trembling hand out to you, revealing the small, nearly minuscule butterfly charm that sat on center of it. You stared at it in awe, reaching over and grasping it.

As you stared at it, you recalled the first conversation you had with Spencer. It was nearly spring and you were on one of your first cases with the team. As you inspected one of the crime scenes, a butterfly had suddenly latched onto your wrist.

You looked at the small insect, briefly startled, but once realizing the absence of danger, you quickly allowed yourself to gaze upon the bug with curiosity and awe.

Spencer watched you intently. He knew close to nothing about you, but something inside him twisted with your tender gaze towards something so small and fragile. He couldn’t stop himself from opening his mouth and beginning one of his endless rants on that specific species of butterfly and how butterflies were a symbolism of good luck and, oh so on.

He couldn't stop talking and that was the first impression you had gotten from Spencer. He was profusely embarrassed afterwards, realizing he had probably overstepped a boundary you had yet to set given since— he really didn't know you all that much.

However, you smiled at him and asked him to tell you more. Since that day, butterflies had become your favorite.

And since that day, Spencer felt his heart double in size any time you were near him.

"Spence," You looked back up at him. "This is beautiful."

He smiled awkwardly, and shuffled on his heels, feeling his pulse quicken. How fast can one’s pulse beat? "I didn't want you thinking I had forgotten about a gift I just, didn't really know when to give it to you and I though—"

You watched his every movement intently, noticing the small pool of fog leave his mouth with each breath due to the cold, not even trying to avoid lingering your gaze on his lips.

"No! No—" You waved your hands in front of him frantically, panicking at the thought of him feeling in any way obligated to get you stuff, even if it was your birthday. It felt too indulgent from him— especially from him.

“It's okay..! You didn't have to get me anything, much less something so special,"

"I—" Spencer looked to the side. With the simple confirmation of your little hair tuck, he decided to push his luck, relying completely on Garcia’s analysis. "I wanted to."

You felt heat all over your face. You grabbed the small chain and easily slipped it onto your wrist, looking at it in awe. You once again, unconsciously tucked your hair behind both of your ears. Spencer noticed this but this time, he allowed himself to smile widely like kid on christmas morning.

You smiled down at it. Spencer watched you, eyes pooling with affection. You looked back up at him, realizing the way his gazed lingered on you. There was some form of affection that was quite evident, but you couldn’t allow yourself to think anything of it. Nothing was said, and that made you incredibly nervous.

He opened his mouth, wanting to say something but not being able to. The mix of the piercing cold and the invasive anxiety wasn’t doing him any good as his shoulders shook lightly. You took notice, and it made sense since he had chased you down in nothing but a blue button up shirt. Without a single word, you reached for your scarf and unwrapped it from your neck. You’d do okay with the cold. You had enough layers— and you were blushing enough to heat your whole body up.

You pushed yourself onto the tip of your toes, wrapping it around Spencer's neck in order to give him some sort of warmth. Spencer immediately grew dizzy, failing to ignore how the scarf smelled just like you always did— a burnt vanilla mixed with the sweetest notes of sugared petals, warm and inviting. He also failed to ignore how close you suddenly were.

Something in you flipped and with a slap of encouragement, you once again pushed yourself onto your toes and planted a tender kiss onto his cheek, staining it ever so slightly with the soft red chapstick you were wearing.

"Blue looks good on you," You said, hands still playing with the blue scarf that sat comfortably around his neck. You wish you could’ve taken a picture of his face, starstruck and dizzy.

You caught the small red stain on his cheek. You smiled, reaching up and smudging your thumb across the stain. "So does red."

Spencer had nearly felt his knees buck. Your sudden bold moves were causing him to spin. It had always been so hard trying to decipher your intentions and antics, but with you standing so close to him, for the first time, he found everything so clear and evident. Like the last layer of secrecy had been ripped off in the matter of seconds and he was entranced.

That could be part of the reason as to why Spencer couldn’t stop himself from leaning down and placing a firm kiss onto your lips.

You froze momentarily, completely caught off guard, especially since you had always thought what you felt for Spencer was one-sided. But soon enough, you eased and smiled into the kiss. It was sweet and soft, innocent and pure, and it was perfect.

He pulled away harshly, suddenly realizing what he had done. "I’m—"

“No!—“ You were surprised at the lack of stability in your voice. “T-that was fine,”

Oh if one could kick themselves. Fine?!

He cleared his throat, words caught deep into his throat. You blushed profusely, wanting to slap yourself back into reality as you grew more and more fidgety and nervous.

"I—" You both said simultaneously. This was embarrassing.

You shot him a nervous smile as you both proceeded to stumble upon each-others words, neither being able to form a coherent sentance.

"Are— Are you doing anything tomorrow..?" Spencer asked, anxiety clawing at him relentlessly.

"No," You felt anticipation in your chest as you shuffled your grip on your purses strap.

"Would you want to?—” He asked, voice small, as if testing the waters and terrified to how you would reply. “You know, do something..?”

A giddy smile grew onto your face, as your hands reached up, and for a third time, tucked hair behind both ears.

"I’d love to," You said. Spencer felt like he was on cloud nine.

"Great! Uh—" He glanced down, pursing his lips. "Cool..”

You stifled a laugh, as he peered over at you with a smile. "I'll text you,"

"Cool.." You pointed over to your car, realizing that it was getting late. "I'm going to, uh—"

A grin that stretched from ear to ear was plastered across Spencer face as you began walking away, also smiling to yourself giddily. Once your back was turned to him, you squeezed your eyes shut, nearly jumping with joy.

"Happy birthday..!" He shot out. You turned, offering him a wave. Spencer watched until you climbed into your car and left the driveway, with the widest, most stupidly huge smile plastered all over his face.

Of course, when he reappeared at his desk, wrapped in your scarf, cheek stained slightly, and the most dazed look splattered all across his features, Morgan didn't skip the opportunity to tease the hell out of him— again.

4K notes · View notes

neonln4 · 3 months ago

Text

What a Coincidence | lando norris smau

lando norris x reader | best friend!oscar

summary: fans start to put the pieces together when y/n and lando start to get a bit obvious about their relationship

fc: sabrina carpenter

my first post ever!! i hope you enjoy it, apologies in advance for any mistakes, errors, or typos!

part 2

yourusername

liked by yourbff, oscarpiastri, and 1,083,920 others

yourusername so proud of this one, can't wait to share my baby with all of you lovely people

short n' sweet out tonight 💋

View all 4,183 comments

ynfan1 finally!!! been waiting so long for this one!

ynfan2 TAKE MY MONEY QUEEN

yourbff absolutely beautiful album, love you!!

yourusername love you more!!!

oscarpiastri will be tuning in even though best friend privileges got me a sneak peek

yourusername don't forget to promote my album at the paddock 😇

ynfan2 oscar piastri i will pay you an absurd amount of money to slide me the best friend sneak preview

♡

landonorris

liked by oscarpiastri, carlossainz55, and 992,837 others

landonorris fast times and fast nights 🏆

View all 2,610 comments

user1 INCREDIBLE WIN

ynfan2 the y/n lyrics?? or is this a coincidence??

user2 PAPAYAAAAAA!!!! CONGRATS!!!!

oscarpiastri hey that's my song

ynfan2 THE Y/N LYRICS I AM SO DELUSIONAL ABOUT THIS

oscarpiastri oh yeah, congrats mate

user3 THAT'S MY GOAT!!!

ynfan3 not lando trying to get y/n's attention when she has a new man 💀

♡

yourusername

liked by oscarpiastri, landonorris, and 1,028,183 others

yourusername couldn't have asked for a better opening night, can't wait to see what else the uk has to offer!!

thank you, london 💋

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ynfan1 waiting patiently for my show

ynfan2 lando in the likes ... y'all i am SO delusional about this

ynfan3 SO PROUD OF YOU Y/N!!!

oscarpiastri the whole crew had a great time tonight!

yourusername who had the best time? 🤭

ynfan2 what does this mean?? WHAT DOES THIS MEAN????

ynfan4 was lando in attendance tonight i have to know

ynfan5 i fear y/n fans don't know what "don't analyze too much" means

ynfan6 poor girl probably just wants to test the waters with her new man and everyone keeps speculating

user1 y/n fans want her with lando sooooo bad, i don't even think he's interested in her at all 😂

♡

landonorris

liked by carlossainz55, oscarpiastri, and 843,928 others

landonorris behind the scenes

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oscarpiastri "thank you oscar, i love using your best friend privileges"

landonorris i can't even fight back here

landonorris check your texts for my response

user1 musician lando coming soon?

user2 a man of many talents

user3 someone put him back in the car

ynfan2 oscar best friend privileges ... y'all HEAR ME OUT

ynfan3 here she goes again

user4 ready for race week!!!

carlossainz55 photo creds??

landonorris no thanks

♡

yourusername

liked by oscarpiastri, yourbff, and 948,382 others

yourusername best friend privileges loading ...

had the best weekend! everyone say congrats to my best friend!!

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ynfan1 CONGRATS OSCAR!!!!

ynfan2 CONGRATULATIONS OSCAR!!! GREAT RACE!!!

ynfan2 yes i'm still delusional and screaming over lando being in the last pic

oscarpiastri thank you for coming y/n, you might be my good luck charm!!

landonorris can i borrow her sometime liked by yourusername

ynfan3 that race was incredible!!! great job osc!!

yourbff i had too much fun, i might have a new favorite sport

yourusername i'll take you to more races, don't you worry!!

ynfan4 i'm guessing ynfan2 didn't see the above interaction

user3 oscar and y/n have the cutest friendship 🥺

♡

lando.jpg

liked by yourusername and 298,038 others

lando.jpg on a night like tonight

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user2 in new york?

user3 pretty!

ynfan2 y/n spotted in the likes

user4 best photographer!

♡

yourusername

liked by yourbff, oscarpiastri, and 1,382,409 others

yourusername thank you, new york!!

always love, love, love performing here. hope you enjoyed the new music 💋

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oscarpiastri performing new music when i can't attend has to go against best friend privileges

yourbff beautiful girl!! loving your lover girl era, you are GLOWING!!

ynfan1 BEST NIGHT EVER!! THANK YOU FOR THE NEW MUSIC, WE'RE SO SPOILED!

ynfan2 THE MCLAREN COLOR OUTFIT??? i might be reaching but ...

ynfan3 considering he was just in new york ... you might be onto something

ynfan4 LOVE YOU! YOU DESERVE EVERYTHING AND MORE

♡

landonorris

liked by yourusername, yourbff, and 892,384 others

landonorris ready for you vegas, i've got a good luck charm this week

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oscarpiastri i think you mean i've *stolen a good luck charm from my teammate this week

landonorris tough luck mate

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♡

yourusername

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yourusername what happens in vegas ... you know the rest 💋

happy birthday, congratulations, i love you 🧡

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yourbff MOM AND DAD!!! SO HAPPY FOR YOUUUUUUU

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oscarpiastri i think it's safe to assume that you're no longer my good luck charm

landonorris everybody point and laugh

landonorris i love you, I LOVE YOU I LOVE YOU I LOVE YOU

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landonorris NO????

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♡

landonorris

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landonorris lucky to call you mine. beautiful show by the most beautiful girl.

if anyone is still wondering: yes, we have really good bed chem

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user2 they are actually so cute

user4 THEY ARE EACH OTHER'S BIGGEST FANS I LOVE THEM

user1 MY PARENTS!!!

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ynfan4 OHHHHH HE MATCHES HER FREAK OKAY Y/N 😏

user3 THE LAST PART OF THE CAPTION???

yourusername horny on main is crazyyyyyy

landonorris horny on album before we were even public is crazyyyyyyyy

user5 OH I'M OBSESSED WITH THEM

oscarpiastri lando acting like he wasn't kicking his feet and blushing the first time he heard bed chem liked by yourusername

ynfan3 we will be cheering for lando for the rest of the season

#lando norris #f1 #f1 x reader #lando norris smau #lando norris fluff #lando norris x you #lando norris x reader #lando norris x y/n #f1 smau #formula 1 #f1 fanfic #f1 fic #lando norris au #lando norris imagine #lando x reader

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luvwestwood · 10 months ago

Text

❝ DON'T WORRY 'BOUT IT DARLING! ❞ - Toji Fushiguro

— (18+) YOUR CAR BREAKS DOWN DURING A SOLO TRIP, AND A KIND MR. FUSHIGURO OFFERS TO HELP.

₊˚༊*· warnings. nsfw (18+), slow burn, rough sex, hair pulling, p in v, rough sex, slight age gap (r is 22, t is 37), pet names, raw sex, backshots, pulling out/cumming on face/mouth, pussy eating, fingering, light faceslapping, toji lives in a cabin..

₊˚༊*· notes. I missed writing sm... also, this was one of those stories where i just got carried away writing.. also if your car breaks down in the middle of no where, please don't follow a random man back to his cabin. toji is not real.

7,035 words (25m read)

header art used - credits to @/yunonoai on twt!

A holiday. The perfect thing you needed to ease your mind— work had been fucking you up lately, so you specifically had requested a few days off.

Realising you never spend time with yourself, and yourself only, had brought you to the idea of going on a solo trip. Although with budget cut short, you could only opt for a solo-road-trip; still well away from the city, and everyone.

So far, you thought it was perfect. Just you and your trusty volks beetle, cruising off for a few days to be surrounded by the county’s evergreen trees, and going down a spiral of constantly smelling wet bark here and there.

Crashing at the nearest motel just a few miles south, and digging into a typical, pancake breakfast at the closest diner the next morning. Quite basic, but you thought that it was unironically the calmest idea for a 'holiday' yet.

Pressing on the playback button, the car radio immediately sounded out the currently inserted tape that was halfway played through, your eyes rolling at the song choice.

“..I wake up in the morning I got murder on my min-“

The sound of the tape bypassing the opening filled with the car, along with silence and the engine running. “Oh for fucks sake, Yuji definitely put that in there.”

Balancing between keeping your eyes on the road, and your surroundings, you toss the DVD away to the passengers side; rummaging around the glove compartment for another disk.

But you found the peace as of now quite calming, resulting in you rolling your windows down by the slightest— taking in the natural noise of the environment.

Your cheeks turned cold to the touch as the breeze wafted throughout your entire car, your back pressing against the fabric seats, eyes only closing for a millisecond to take everything in.

Dressed in a tank top and shorts, my, it seemed like you were ready for.. who knows what. Hopefully no one takes you, accidentally, for a side-street hooker.

Bit silent, you suppose— seeing that there was no other car on this specific road too. It was eerie, but enjoyable at the same time. I mean, the road was in the middle of the woods so I doubt people would be passing in and out of here often.

Hand reaching back into the glove compartment, you grab a hold of a random disk, analyzing it as soon as you withdrew your hand back into your lap.

..The Cranberries, not too bad. Something to lighten up the mood a bit. Biting down on your bottom lip, you divert your attention away from the road for a millisecond— pushing the disk into the radio player with a swift movement.

The familiar intro of Linger began to play. Your two hands clutched onto the wheel tighter, letting out a squeal as a result of hearing one of your favorite songs.

What seemed like forever, you wondered if the road was going to look different anytime soon. It felt as if you haven't seen some sort of sign telling you there would be a bed and breakfast ten minutes up, but you simply brushed it off.

"..And I'm in so deeep, you know I'm such a fool for youuu.." Taking advantage of the empty roads, you notched the volume a bit higher, belting out your shower-learnt vocals with all your heart.

Concerning LEDs flashing on your dashboard suddenly caught your eye, your singing stopping right in the middle of the chorus.

Frantically looking down at the light, and at the road in front of you, the sensible decision to pull over came across your mind— your car quickly swerving to the side of the road, Linger still, playing as everything started to go downhill.

"W-what the fuck is that supposed to mean?!" Your hands fall onto your lap, brows furrowed at one warning appearing after the other, a whimper slipping past your lips as worry grew.

Looking out the rear window, then to the front, you've realised you're all alone. No help nearby, not for another while. Groaning, you darted your eyes back to your dashboard, seeing about three more warnings show up.

"Fuck- not now, oh come on!" ...Can't even get peace on my day off, can I?

Pulling on the latch underneath, you popped the hood open. Killing the ignition, you grab your zip-up from the backseat, throwing it on before stepping out of the car; sizzling, and smoke coming from under the hood.

"I swear.. if this is a trap for a murder film, just take me already. My survival instincts are through the roof.."

Sighing, you lift the hood up, a big cloud of grey smoke slapping you in the face, like you could suffocate any moment now.

"The hell?!" Coughing, you fanned your face, taking a few, cautious steps back from the vehicle. As soon as the smoke had went away, you leaned back in; analysing each part of your engine.

A scoff escapes your mouth, silently laughing at yourself. "Literally what the fuck am I meant to be looking at." Knuckles resting atop your hips, you stood up straight, chipping away at your fingernails with your teeth.

"..Okay, maybe I'll try and start it... and if all goes wrong- call the insurance company."

Blowing out a relieving breath, you sit back into the driver's seat, twisting the key, trying to get your car to start.

Nothing but the sweet sound of failure. Two more tries, and still the same outcome.

"..Insurance company.. right."

Unable to locate your phone, you let out a confused noise- looking sideways and upside down your car for it. "..Where could it.. be..?"

Though.. something seemed, off. Your head slowly rose up from below the passengers seat, peeping just above the car door.

A man, walking- closer, and closer.. It seems. Your heart began to thump against your chest- begging to jump out. Breathing labored, your eyes widen, body freezing at the most inconvenient of times. Wait, is he holding an axe?

"M-my.. my phone?!" With haste in your movements, you rummage through everything like a mad man, making a total mess of your car- the same mysterious guy getting closer and closer, tauntingly walking out from the deep woods.

Sitting back against your seat, your mouth gapes open; eyes glued straight ahead. This is it, I manifested it. Now why on earth did I say that?! It's over for me, I'm cooked.

You let out a mewl, attempting to sob, solely squeezing your eyes shut. Too scared to look one last time to your side, you took a few deep breaths, chanting mini prayers to save the last bit of you.

A tap on the window came from your side, your one eye opening itself. Hesitant, you slowly turn your head; seeing a muscular torso at the window tapping the glass with the handle of his axe, before the man leans down to show his face.

Dressed in jeans and a flannel, with jagged, raven colored hair— and a face to perfectly compliment his jacked up body. I see. But now's not the time to play a dating game.

"..Ma'am?" His voice deep, and rusty, your face grew more concerned, mouth still gawking like a freak in fear.

"..God, p-please don't kill me.." A quiet peep comes from you, the man resting a hand on your roof, still bent down, and chuckling.

"Lady, I could see your car smokin' all the way from my cabin. I couldn't help but see what's the matter. You want me to check it out for you, or not?" His voice happened to be quite faint from behind the glass, though you could make out what he seemed to be saying.

"..Oh... I don't mind, I just have no clue what to do, I.." Words coming out in a blabber, you stumbled over what you wanted to say, confusion written all over the mans face.

"Slow down, will ya? Can't even comprehend half the words you're saying."

Shaking your head, you brushed it off. "You know what.. forget it.. just.. check what's happening under that hood, please?"

He nods, disappearing from your window to walk around to the front of the car. Deciding to step out too, you came to the conclusion that he seemed like an okay man to trust with your car. But you just had to make sure he wasn't gonna fit some sort of tracker underneath your engine..

Crossing your arms, you walked closer to the man, who seemed to know what he was doing. Observing from a few steps away, you watched him twist and turn at a few things, no fear in getting his hands dirty. He seemed bigger at this angle, a bit bigger than you, so if he were to murder you right now... it's over.

"..Do you always carry around that axe?" Referring to the same tool that was now on the ground, you noticed his lips curl into a smile, taking note of the fading scar on the side of his mouth also.

Letting out an amused chuckle, his eyes remained focused on the problem in front of him, but his voice was able to answer something else at the same time. "Living in the middle of the woods, I think you'd do the same."

You nod, accepting the answer with no further questions. Although a few more silly ones came out of you..

"Have you ever been chased by a bear.. while living out here?" Swaying back and forth on your tippy toes, your arms stay crossed, teeth chewing at your bottom lip as you anticipated a genuine answer.

He stops, torso still bent down but head looking up at you, facial expressions unimpressed. "Do pretty girls like you always ask all these stupid questions..?"

Blinking, you freeze, at the blunt compliment and sharp stab of his words. "..I was just curious. Also, I don't even know your name. You know, if you try to kidnap me, and I happen to escape, and-"

"Toji." Short and direct, he answers that question. "Now that you've told me your game plan, I could've easily lied about my name.

Your throat running dry, you clear it out with a grunt, Toji standing back up with an unhopeful look on his face. "..Yeah, your car is busted." He picks his axe back up, turning his body to you.

"..What? But- there's no reception here and.. I have no where to go..." Great. You've told him that you're helpless, and a young, vulnerable girl who's all alone on a solo trip.

"Wait- so you're telling me you're all alone, in the middle of these woods. Lady, do you not know that there's literally nothing here but dirt and trees?" His face scrunched up in disbelief, he genuinely wondered what a girl like you would be doing here.

"..I just wanted a holiday... on my own and.. I thought.. I could crash at some motel like in the movies and.. and.. pancakes.. oh the pancakes.." A sob chokes out of you, warm tears beginning to stain your cheeks at the thought of your vacation going downhill.

Toji, on the other hand looks more confused at this rate, his voice stammering, unsure of how to console you. A random girl, crying in front of him.. Great.

"Uh, don't cry- I didn't mean to.." Scratching at his nape, he waits until you stop crying your guts out, and successfully, you do. "Look, how about I'll fix your car for you, but first we get you a place to stay."

Sniffling, you look up at him, an ounce of hope springing back into you. "..R-really?"

Relieved, Toji was able to relax by the slightest after finally getting you to stop sobbing in front of him. Comforting wasn't his forte. "Yeah, don't worry 'bout it darling. But my cabin is the only thing I could offer right now. I told you, there's nothing in this place. No.. 'motel'..."

Looking back at your busted car, then returning to Toji, he shrugs his shoulders; mouthing, 'the choice is yours.' He wasn't pressuring you at all, but it was true that there was no other option. Outside the city wasn't all that, and you learnt the hard way.

"...Fine, just don't.. don't murder me.. I don't wanna die." Toying with the zip of your hoodie, you divert your gaze away from Toji, deciding to look at the ground instead.

He grunts, grabbing his head in frustration. "Would you quit with that murder bull-crap?! How many times do I have to say it. Should be me who's scared of a Michael Myers venturing 'round these woods." Toji shakes his head in disapproval. "Just grab your things and get movin' will you? Sun's about to set soon."

Unamused yourself, you shoot him a glare, walking over to the backseat door to grab your backpack full of everything. Slamming the door shut, you sensibly grab your keys, properly locking everything before Toji shuts the hood, resting his axe on his shoulder.

The man gestures you to follow him, hopefully not towards your death. Trailing behind his large figure, Toji occasionally glanced over his shoulder to make sure you were still there and didn't happen to run off; more than certain that you were shitting your pants right now.

Readjusting the heavy backpack on your shoulder, you struggled, mentally complaining, but too afraid to ask if you were there yet. Guess you'll take the blame for this one. Should've packed light I suppose..

"We're here, incase you were wondering." Toji stops in his tracks, turning his body back around to face you before making his way to the onto the porch.

Surprisingly, it was nice and big, and seemed homely. "Not gonna lie, I thought you lived in a run down shack in the middle of no where. With like, bugs and stuff?"

"Who do you take me for?" He scoffs, "Come in when you're ready. Also mind your step." Toji points out the mini stairs just below the porch, before disappearing off inside. He really made sure that you didn't feel pressured to do anything whatsoever. So he let you enter at your own will.

Taking note of your surroundings outside one last time, you let out a deep breath before stepping inside.

Warm air engulfed you, heat coming from a well built fire place. It actually was nice inside, and everything everywhere made sense. The architecture of the cabin really had Toji written all over it.

Nothing was run down. It felt like a home, just with a rustic style to it. The sofa actually had a throw draped over it, a flat screen tv mounted just above the fireplace. There was also a nice view of a body of water outside some large windows.

Toji paced around the sofas just after resting his axe safely in a corner, stretching his arms out; toned muscles flexing from the warm, yellowish light in the cabin.

"Make yourself at home, you take my room tonight. I'll crash on the sofa." He makes his way to the other side of the cabin, supposedly the entrance to his bedroom. Toji leaning against the door frame, he watched as you stood still in one spot, still observing your surroundings.

"Also has its own bathroom, so no need to worry about me walking in on you. There's locks too from the inside. And I don't care about you going through anything. I've got nothing to hide." Toji continues, he sure knows the questions you're about to ask. This man is always thinking ahead.

"..Thanks, Toji. That's really nice of you." Walking closer to the entrance of his room, you slide the backpack off your shoulder, holding onto the heavy load with two hands at this point. The backpack swings between your legs as you walk past him, Toji grunting before leaving you be.

He fucks off somewhere into the kitchen, meanwhile you lock the doors behind you immediately. You already smelled of bark and leaves, and not to mention, the stinky smoke from your car earlier.

Tossing your backpack onto an armchair nearby, eye glancing over a few frames with Toji in them. Some of him alone, with a fish in his hand, the other.. Possibly some old friends.

Curious, you looked around the dresser for some more things that could tell you a bit more about himself.

In the corner was a birthday card, which didn't evidently tell you his age, but you found out as soon as you opened it up to see what was written.

"Happy Birthday big guy, can't beleeve your old ass is 37! - Your pal, Gojo🖕"

Who the hell is Gojo? And, that's not old.. right? You scoffed more so at the fact that the word 'believe' was spelt wrong other than the badly drawn middle finger. Just a little habit of yours you can't control. Considering you were 22, Toji was kind of old enough to be your guardian, somehow.. but let's not get into that.

Attempting to place the card exactly where it had belonged, you were happy enough with your first try; still curious to find any hidden gems, but you were unsuccessful.

Letting out a hum, you took another look around your surroundings, nodding gently in approval at the view that he also had just outside of his bedroom. Seems like he knew how to build this place the way he wanted to.

Halfway pacing around his room, you realised that he probably thinks you've been silent for too long. Deciding to step into his bathroom, notice a shaver and some cream on the sink. Allowing the shower to run, you hoped the noise would calm his nerves to let him know you're still here, and alive.

Oh, being a curious cat you open his mirror cabinet just to take a tiny peek before your shower. Says he's got nothing to hide, so..

After-shave, lotion, pain-killers and a box.. An unopened box of extra large condoms.

You gulp before blinking rapidly, closing the mirror cabinet without a second to waste. You weren't sure if you should be mortified or impressed and relieved that they were unopened. Wait, as if it matters?

Locking the bathroom door just to be cautious, you quickly did so before stripping your clothes completely to the ground, kicking off your converse and socks before hopping into the warm shower.

The droplets trickled down your body, feeling more calm now that you've had a shower. Allowing the water to run over your hair, you scrubbed your scalp with your fingertips, completely soaking your body. You looked over to the shower caddy hanging on the wall before grabbing a familiar brand of shampoo.

Massaging that into your hair, you hurried on with your shower, making sure that you didn't hog all the hot water. You assumed that he had to start up a big ass generator minutes away just to get a drop of it, forgetting the fact that it was '24, and there was some such thing as a boiler.

The shower ended up being just fine, and Toji didn't bother you at all. He didn't force the door open, don't worry; and everything was just the way it was left in the room.

You didn't have anything else left to wear than the matching tank and shorts set you bought at TJ-Maxx solely for this solo trip. You didn't have to worry about your feet being cold, as the hardwood floors were surprisingly heated.

Quickly drying your hair with one of his towels, you figured that he didn't have a hairdryer, so you had no choice but to leave it to air dry.

Finally unlocking the bedroom door, you opened it to see Toji busy behind the kitchen island. Assuming he was cooking, you made your way closer, sitting on a bar stool nearby.

Toji had a tea towel draped over his shoulder, and the smell of cooked meat entered your nostrils.

"If you're a vegan, it's your unlucky day." He says, clearly knowing you were seated behind him.

You laugh, resting your elbows on the counter, watching him like a hawk . "I eat everything, don't worry."

"Good." He says before turning back towards you with a plate of steak, potatoes and asparagus. Unlike earlier, this time a pleasant cloud of steam hit you in the face, the smell making your tummy grumble.

Toji has a plate of his own, leaning against the counter behind him as he watches your every move, waiting for you to take a bite. He pokes at a potato, tossing it into his mouth before saying something.

"Wake up early tomorrow, I'll teach you what to do in case something like this happens again. I don't expect you to follow a man again back to his cabin in the middle of no where.." Prodding at a few more pieces of steak, he notices you were busy digging into your own plate.

You just let out a hum of approval, Toji slowly sliding a glass of water towards you before you could choke anytime soon.

Setting your cutlery down, you look up at Toji standing, busy eating his own dinner. Here comes the wave of questions.. "Hmm, do you ever get lonely out here?"

Unphased by the question, Toji continues eating, but answers your curiosity. "Nah, I like being alone. I'm used to it anyways. Friends do come visit, but not always." He shrugs, unable to make eye contact with you.

"..I see.." Nodding, your mind jumps back to the unopened box of condoms back in Toji's bathroom, your inner voice mentally cursing at yourself for being too curious.

Letting famish get the best of you, you devoured everything on the plate in record breaking time, politely pairing the cutlery together on the dish. "Uhm, Toji? I can clean up. It's the least I could do."

The man just finishing his own plate, he sets it on the counter beside him, looking at you, impressed. "Seriously? 'right then."

Hopping off the stool, you make your way past him, feeling Toji's gaze burn into the back of your head, before you reached around him for his plate, and your own on the island. Bringing the two to the sink, you began to wash them with the sponge, occasionally looking out the kitchen window.

It had gone dark quickly. Who knows if Toji never had come across you.

"You got a boyfriend or what?" A first time question from the man, and it was one you didn't expect. He remained leaning against the counter, watching your every move from behind you.

Suppressing a panicked turn of your head, you kept your vision down at the dishes, gliding your hand over the dishes and under the water, you gulped before answering.

"No, not anymore. I broke up with him cause I found out he was cheating on me with some girl on the majorette team in college." Your insides burned at the memory of you walking in on them at a party bathroom, but you didn't let it get to you, not now.

Toji didn't let out a hum of approval, and instead stayed quiet. All he did was place your empty glass beside the sink that you seemed to have forgotten all about. Taking that too, you scrubbed it with the sponge before rinsing it off and placing it on the drying rack.

"All done," you dried your hands on the fabric of your shorts behind you, turning back around to Toji who was in the same position, but this time, his hands held onto the counter's edge on either side of him.

Peering at the drying rack around you, he pouted in approval, "Done a fairly good job I suppose,"

You scoff, "It was just washing dishes. Nothing hard."

"I'll be right back. No tomfoolery, and don't open that door." Toji glances to the front door, before disappearing off into his bedroom, the door closing. You thought nothing of it, walking over to the L-shaped sofa to see what was on TV. Some stupid deer documentary was on, typical, but you changed it to something more entertaining like a soap.

You assumed that he had no Netflix on it, and you were right. You can't really imagine Toji watching an episode of The Office.

Propping the side of your head onto your knuckles, your eyes bored at the screen, barely paying attention to what was on the TV. Glancing over to the clock on the wall, you read the time to be almost 9 o'clock, which shocked you.

Letting out your fifth sigh of the day, you flickered back and forth through the channels before hearing a door open behind you, Toji stepping out of his room, and this time, dressed in grey sweats and a t-shirt. His hair was slightly damp, as you noticed him sitting just after your feet, ensuring a distance between you two.

"What's this crap you're watching?" Toji rests his elbows on his knees before relaxing back onto the sofa, legs spreading as he made himself comfortable.

Tossing the remote over to his side, you roll your eyes. "Knew you would say that."

The man attempted to focus on the shit show in front of him, brows furrowing, but eventually he seemed interested.

Sitting up, you cross your legs, groaning. "There's nothing good on TV. I'm going to bed."

Toji looked to his side, watching as you stood up and left, and he had to admit— he did get a look at your behind. But no one could beat that out of him. "Alright, suit yourself. Sweet dreams. Remember, up early tomorrow."

You glanced behind your shoulder before stepping into his room, not shutting the door fully but leaving a slight gap between the frame and the door itself.

After scavenging through the side pocket of your backpack, you returned back into Toji's bathroom with your toothbrush this time. Stealing a pea of his own toothpaste, you stared at yourself in his mirror as you brushed away.

You could still hear his TV coming from outside, and it sounded like the channel didn't change. He was probably fixated on the show by now. After spitting out, you rinsed off your toothbrush, before heading back out to place it back into your backpack.

Before hopping into bed, you neatly folded your things away, ensuring you cleaned up after yourself as you hated leaving a mess behind, especially if you weren't in a space of your own.

Letting out a sigh, you crawled into his bed, surprisingly filled with two fluffy pillows, and not just one flat ass cushion. Toji's bed strongly smelled like aftershave, supposedly the one in his bathroom mirror. It was comforting though, and wasn't an unpleasant scent.

Covering your upper half with the duvet, you laid flat on your back, eyes staring up at the ceiling before your lids slowly grew heavy and soon enough, closing shut.

You managed to sleep halfway through the night, until, it had began to thunder, and rain heavily. The drops pattered against the glass window, waking you from your slumber inconveniently.

Sitting up in bed, you look around, noticing everything was still the same. The door remained slightly open, and you could see that the TV has still been on until now, but sounded different.

Looking out the window, you couldn't see much from the heavy rain blinding the environment. It was lashing outside, and unfortunately, you were unable to fall back into sleep.

Pursing your lips together, you climbed out of bed, making your way to the door before opening it by a bit.

You treaded lightly, seeing Toji's head behind the sofa. Unable to tell if he was asleep or not, noticing that the TV was on, you approached him closer. Your head peeked over the sofa slightly, voice calling out his name.

"..Toji? ....Toji." You let out a loud whisper, the man grunting and turning his head around. It seems that he was fast asleep, but... sitting up. How scary.

"I can't sleep.. the weather, it's really awful outside." Nipping at the fabric of your shorts, you sucked in a labored breath of air through your nostrils before initiating a question. "..Can you- sleep beside me?"

Toji seemed less asleep, and now, he was wide awake. He looked over to the clock before reaching for the remote to switch off the TV. It was halfway through one in the morning. "What are you, nine?" He laughs before getting up from the sofa, trailing behind the sofa to follow you back into the room.

He questioned no more, and agreed. He'd do anything to be back in his room anyways, in the comfort of his bed, but of course knowing Toji— he'd never admit that.

The two of you hurried back into the bedroom, Toji automatically walking over to his side, while you, crawl back into bed. Making yourself comfortable again, you drape the cover over yourself, feeling the weight of the bed shift beside you, Toji making himself comfortable also.

You turn to your side, back facing Toji, unable to have him stare at your face all night. The room grew silent, and only the sound of the rain tapping against the window could be heard. Though you could still feel his gaze burning into your back, which happened to go away soon enough.

"No stupid stuff." He suddenly blurts out, which you were unable to decipher. Was he talking about what you thought he meant?

You decided not to respond, and instead, shifted around. You could feel Toji's natural body warmth all over your back, and with one more shift, you realised that he was close to you, actually, way too close to you.

But it was too late to move back, as you were too scared of irritating him by shuffling around so much that he'd kick you out.

A large hand snakes onto the side of your waist, gently gripping at your stomach. "Quit movin' around so much, will you?" It was Toji's hand, and he firmly kept you in place. Preventing any further movement. The continuous friction of your shorts against him had aroused him of some sort, and it was uncontrollable.

Another hard bump rested on the behind of your shorts, your eyes flying wide open, unable to shut now. "I-I'm sorry, I didn't know.. I'll stop."

"Sure, you didn't know what you were doing?" You couldn't see the expression on his face, and could only judge by the tone of his voice. Too bad you were facing away from him right now.

Giving in, your body aggressively shifts to face him, the natural moonlight peering through the windows leaving a bright enough glow on his face.

You gulp, Toji hesitantly using his finger to move away the fly-aways covering your face to get a better look at you. "..Don't know why that jerk cheated on you."

"..You don't know me, so.." You let out, Toji's brows furrowing as he studied your features harder.

Alternating between your eyes and lips, he let out a mixture of a grunt and a laugh. "Should go for a real man."

Your breath hitches at his remark, your mind trailing off to other translations of his sentence. He talking about the fucking, or dating aspect?

Silence grew between you, his thumb carefully swiping over your soft bottom lip. The air grew thicker and thicker, a sort of tension lingering throughout the room. You couldn't tell what initiated it, but the air felt suffocating, like it had its own hold of you.

Leaning in closer to his face, your warm breath fanned against his lips before he cupped your cheek with his hand, holding you close as your mouths latched onto each other. The tension between you two diminishing as your tongues intertwined.

Toji laid flat on his back as you straddled him under the sheets, the kiss turning sloppier, with a blend of spit coating your chins, the two of you moaning into each other.

You whimper, pulling away as you felt his teeth tug onto your bottom lip, a long, string of saliva creating a bridge between the two of you, both panting, chests heaving heavily.

Swiftly stripping your tank above your head, the sudden air had bit your skin, nipples growing hard to the touch, all perky and erect. Unable to see in the midst of the fabric covering your sights, you could feel both of Toji's large hands cupping your breasts, massaging them— thumbs toying teasingly at your nipples.

Palms pressing onto the flat of your back, Toji guides your hips with no rush in his movements, back and forth, groaning at the grinding sensation over his sweats, head heavily leaning against the pillow. Your top slides down onto the bedroom floor, breath irregular as you felt the thick tent in his pants dig into you.

You both swap positions, Toji flipping the two of you around with ease and no struggle in his demeanor, the man anchoring himself between your thighs.

Toji's lips latch onto your breasts, warm mouth wrapped around one, sucking away hungrily as he fondled with the other. A pop leaves his mouth as he lets go, using a finger to flicker your nipple gently, your warm, spit-covered nipples growing hard once again as soon as it meets the cold air.

You watch as Toji goes down on you, breath shaking as he peppered kisses down your stomach, disappearing underneath the sheets; leaving a few pecks dangerously close, and somewhere on your inner thigh.

Feeling his pointer and middle finger tug at the waistband of your shorts, you could tell that he was waiting; and so you raised your hips up slightly, allowing him to drag them down your legs.

His hands clasp around your two thighs, bringing you closer to his face, though you just couldn't see; Toji's tongue leaving behind a wet stripe against your clothed pussy, your body shuddering at the feeling.

Your mouth could only gape open, your eyes peering up at the same ceiling as you let out breathless moans here and there.

Toji's middle finger tugged your panties to the side, allowing your bare pussy to be on show to him completely, finally landing yet another stripe with his warm tongue. He eagerly sucks, sticking his same middle finger in, fucking your hole gently as he alternates between licking and fingering.

Letting out quiet moans, you fondle with your breasts, legs squirming as he inserted another digit, Toji using both hands to rip your underwear completely as he sucked on your clit

Your hand reaches for the pillow behind you, fingers clawing at the fabric.

Toji raised his own hips, practically on his knees to be able to palm at his own cock as played with you for your own pleasure, getting off to your moans as he continued to have you undone with his touch.

You could hear him grunt lowly, from time to time, but grunting in disapproval whenever you'd stamp your thighs on either side of his head, trapping him between your legs.

Your head leaning back, you gasped, eyes rolling as Toji curled his fingers up into you, eventually allowing his movements to come to a complete halt, your throat mewling in dissatisfaction.

"Not so fast, wanna feel you cum 'round something else," Toji appears in front of you, arising from under the sheets; stripping his own shirt off his body before tossing it somewhere across the room.

His body shifted around, and you assumed it was to get the condoms, where you already knew was located. Though you quickly took a hold of the strings on his waistband, pulling him back.

"No- I wanna feel you raw, Toji," Looking up at him as you said so, still laid on your back; the man could've sworn that his cock twitched at what you had just said.

Surprisingly, he nods, moving about to get his pants fully off him, struggling a bit, but managing in the end.

Toji uses a hand to jerk his thick length repeatedly, the other free playing with the flesh on your waist. "You sure about this?"

"I am." You replied, busy wondering how he was gonna fit inside of you. The condoms weren't lying.

Slightly and slowly pushing his tip into you, followed by the rest, the two of you groaned at the feeling, Toji grabbing onto both sides of your waist eventually; grip growing tighter as he stuffed you full. Your fingers clawed at his wrists, a moan escaping your mouth as you felt his girth stretching you out, Toji using his thumbs to caress your sides gently.

"All good?" He made sure, and you nod, letting him know that he could move, and you were perfectly fine.

Toji's hips began to rock back and forth, occasional groans coming from him, mentally thanking you for the fact that you let him do it raw.

"..F-faster," you let out, Toji now placing both of his hands on either side of your head, his hips bucking into you faster and deeper; the bed slightly creaking from his movements.

He continues to groan endlessly, head jerking back as he felt your gummy walls take him completely, cursing over and over again. Toji smashes his lips onto yours again, you moaning as a result, the man taking your head into his hands as he held you close; forehead leaning on yours as his cock bullied your insides relentlessly.

Pulling away, Toji grabs both of your legs, resting your ankle on each of his shoulders— allowing him to fuck into you deeper, and be impossibly closer, the man fucking you into a nasty mating press as the creaking intensifies; the headboard beginning to hit against the walls, the legs of the bed scratching all over the floorboards.

"S-shit, To-oji," Voice breaking up your words, you dig your fingertips deep into the muscle on his shoulder, Toji moaning closely against the shell of your ear.

He growls, resting his forehead on yours once again, maintaining eye contact with you, so intimately; "That's it doll, moan my name, come on," he coos, watching as your eyes squeeze shut; the man reaching his hand up to gently slap it against your cheek— telling you to keep your eyes on him.

You do so, and endlessly chant his name like a prayer; Toji grinning and leaving a peck on your lips before letting your legs go, allowing them to flop on either sides of his waist, effortlessly flipping you back around.

Pulling out rapidly, the flat of his palm presses against your spine. Hands kneading at your ass cheeks as he spreads them apart, leaving a long wet lick from your pussy past your asshole, he slides his cock back into your dripping hole— maintaining his previous pace as he holds onto the headboard, drilling into you with no mercy.

Beads of sweat glistened his body like that pane of glass, strands of his recently washed hair now sticking to his forehead.

"Atta girl," he moans, slapping your ass and leaving a red hand-print. "Fuck, take this cock," Your ass rippling against his pelvis, Toji grabs a handful of the soft of your cheeks, fucking you back onto his cock; a symphony of ass slapping, and balls hitting against your clit sounding throughout the room.

Your forehead falls heavy onto the pillow, voice muffled as you moaned helplessly into it; Toji fucking you in all the right spots, he meant it when he said you should find yourself a real man. He was showing you, what a real man was.

"C'mon baby, I wanna feel you cum all over me, p-please?" Toji pleads, his thrusts slowing in pace, but still rutting in deep as he fucks you passionately, guiding you by your waist back and forth on his cock to get those last few strokes.

Toji leans forward, pressing a tender kiss on your shoulder blade, feeling down your back as he left a few more, shivers going down your spine as he roamed his hands all over you,

A creamy ring forms at his shaft, thickening over time as he continued to fuck in and out of you; playfully pulling his thick cock out to heavily rest it against your ass, gliding it between your cheeks before sliding it back in. His tip red, and glossy, your eyes rolled as he slipped himself inside.

Toji picks up the pace once more, urging you to your orgasm; your fingers clawing behind you, trying to stop him from moving any more, your two legs shaking as they attempted to stay up, and support you in your arch.

He grabs a fistful of your hair, pulling you back towards him; fucking your mind as he finishes you off from behind. "I'm gonna c-cum, oh fuck," you squeal, eventually making a mess all over his cock, squirting— Toji still fucking into you as your orgasm had washed over your body.

A dark puddle forms on the bedsheets underneath you, and your slick soaks on the flat of his thighs, a squelching noise emitting from underneath as you lazily rubbed circles on your clit; eyes rolling from the several sensations hitting you all at once— Toji’s cock continuing to piston into you.

Toji grunts, feeling you clench and unclench round his cock; a firm slap stinging against your left cheek as he instantly pulls out. "Turn around," he commands, breathing heavily and you obey; a firm grip still in your hair— the man guiding his cock with his index and thumb towards your lips.

Slapping his heavy girth against your mouth, warm ropes of white decorate your face; Toji grunting as he watches your face be painted with white, smearing his artwork all over your face, pushing his tip gently into your mouth as you sucked, sticking your tongue out for visual confirmation of the white orb of cum resting on it.

"Fuck.." he whispers, "Swallow it baby," Toji smacks his tip against your cheek, soon enough letting go of your scalp as he jerked his cock with a last few strokes.

Upon letting go, he immediately cupped your face into his palms once again, rewarding you with a tender kiss on the lips, sneaking a quick fondle at your breast.

Toji glances out the window, returning his gaze back to you glowing under the moon's light. The loud storm had stopped long ago. "..Don't you think those backshots were louder than that thunder clapping out there?"

⊹ ࣪ ˖ ⤳ © luvwestwood ‘24. all works are owned by me, and originally come from my own head. please do not re-post on a third party platform without my permission!

⊹ ࣪ ˖ ⤳ as always, thank you for the love on each and every one of my posts! it means the world to me. ily all soo soo much!

[luvwestwood masterlist]

#jujutsu kaisen smut #toji x reader smut #toji fushiguro smut #toji smut #toji fushiguro x reader #jujutsu kaisen toji #toji x reader #toji x you #jujutsu toji #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen #toji fushiguro #jjk toji #toji x y/n #jujutsu kaisen x you #jujutsu kaisen fluff

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threetrenchcoatsinatrenchcoat · 3 months ago

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@allthecastlesonclouds don't read this until you've listened! but do read it

if I had a nickel for every musical I've been sucked into that featured a main ensemble of at least 8 women, with two of those girls ending up dead/arrested, and another one being falsely accused of murder but ends up getting acquitted in the end, I'd have two nickels! Which isn't a lot! But it's weird that it happened twice!

#warriors album #watt #about a squad all of their competition ignores until the violence starts #where my favorite song is a duet between two women one of whom is lamenting the lack of a future she sees with the other #analyzing the themes

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certaimromance · 18 days ago

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𝜗𝜚 The Other Boy Next Door.

Spencer Reid x Neighbor!reader

series masterlist

Summary: Spencer is focused on not hurting you and keeping a healthy distance, but his whole world is turned upside down when he hears a male voice in your apartment.

Words: 3,9k.

Warnings & Tags: this is part of a series, check the masterlist to make sure you are in the correct chapter. mention of jail, gun, violence, alzheimer, blood. references to what happened with maeve (no direct mention). painter!reader. post prison reid (with so much trauma). lack of communication. angst. english isn't my first language (sorry for my mistakes, be kind please).

Note: This chapter was veryyy difficult to write because I really wanted to show both points of view, and I killed myself researching the deeper consequences of three months of confinement to be realistic with Spencer😭 I hope this makes sense to you.

Most days in apartment 23 were lonely and very decadent.

Generally, Spencer Reid woke alone in a bed that felt far too large for one person, the sheets cool and undisturbed on one side. Coffee came first—a dark, bitter brew that filled the air with its sharp aroma. He would stand by the kitchen window, staring out at the skyline, lost in thoughts that circled endlessly but led nowhere. His medical books were always on the table, their spines cracked and pages marked with notes and highlighter strokes. He pored over them not out of passion but desperation, chasing elusive cures for his mother’s Alzheimer’s. The phone rested nearby, a constant reminder of his work, its silence pressing heavier with each passing hour.

When there was no call, which was really weird, he filled the void with repetition. He’d toast bread or fry eggs for a meager breakfast, then venture out to the coffee shop on the corner. The routine was painfully predictable: the same stale donuts, the same barista with the tired smile, the same seat by the window. Thirty-two minutes, start to finish, every time. If the phone didn’t ring even then, he’d wander aimlessly to the library, where the scent of old paper offered fleeting comfort, or return home to let classical music fill the otherwise suffocating quiet. He was always pleased to hear songs without lyrics that could further suffocate his brain. It was a nice way to wait to be needed.

But one day, the loop cracked. Midway through his meticulous routine, something—or rather someone—broke through the fog of his predictability. You moved in next door.

And then, all of a sudden, his quiet time between classical sonatas, coffee, and huge books was interrupted by your cat—and, consequently, you. His whole routine changed right away. He no longer woke up alone in his bed because you and Mittens took up all the space that was left and more. He didn't just buy one coffee anymore; now he bought two, with an extra brownie that you loved. He didn't lock himself away to read non-stop because he had you to talk to and give him the support that no book could ever give him. He stopped listening to so much classical music because you liked watching him analyze the lyrics of your favorite songs. He stopped waiting for calls from work to feel useful because you always seemed to need him.

And he welcomed all the changes, because the biggest one was his favorite: you.

Everything about you captivated him from the moment he saw you hauling an absurd number of canvases into your apartment. You were unlike anyone he’d ever met. Your presence turned the once-sterile hallway into a place of possibility, where running into you felt like a small miracle. But what amazed him most was how you transformed his apartment, a place he once thought of as lonely and very decadent, into a home. It wasn’t just the way Mittens treated his space like her second domain or how your art supplies slowly began to infiltrate his coffee table. It was the warmth you brought with you, the way you made him feel seen and understood in a way he never had before.

But since Spencer was used to it, nothing good lasted. But since Spencer was used to it, he'd rather leave than be left behind again.

You two were almost like strangers now. The warmth that had once filled his days was gone, replaced by a hollow silence that lingered in every corner of his apartment. There were no more mornings waking up together, no shared cups of coffee, or lazy conversations about nothing and everything. Even your casual hallway encounters had dwindled into fleeting moments—a rushed “good morning” as you passed each other without meeting his eyes.

Now, his mornings were cold and solitary once again. He sat alone at the small kitchen table, the other chair pushed neatly against the wall as if to erase any memory of you. The second coffee cup he’d grown so used to buying stayed behind at the shop, and the barista didn’t even ask about the brownie anymore. Instead, he carried a single steaming cup back to his apartment, where it joined the growing pile of books that had reclaimed their place as his only companions.

He buried himself in his medical texts with a desperation that bordered on obsession, but even the words on the page couldn’t hold his attention. He visited his mother at the nursing home you had helped him find, but the comfort he once felt from knowing it was close had turned into an aching reminder of how involved you’d been in every part of his life. And to make things worse, the job that had always been his refuge was gone too. Temporarily suspended, he had nothing to distract him, no cases to pour himself into, and no purpose to latch onto. He was adrift, waiting for his boss to negotiate with the bureau, waiting for his life to have some semblance of meaning again.

This morning was no different from the others—a bleak repetition of what his life had been before you. Spencer sat on his couch with a cup of coffee that had already gone lukewarm. His fingers gripped the edges of an open book, but his eyes skimmed the words without processing them. The air in the apartment was heavy, stagnant, broken only by the soft, repetitive scrape of Mittens’ claws against the fabric of a cushion. The sound grated on him, but he couldn’t bring himself to shoo her away. In truth, he was grateful for the small disruption, even if it came from a cat that seemed to sense his turmoil.

But something changed this time. From the corner of his ear, a sound, a voice, pierced the thin walls of the place. It was not so loud, but it was unmistakable. A man's voice. Deep. Low. Tense. And from your apartment.

His body tensed, and the hairs on the back of his neck stood up. His heart stopped for a few seconds. The voice was unfamiliar; he knew it wasn't one of his friends because he knew them all, but there was still something about it that made him uneasy. It was almost...harsh. The words, though distorted by distance, still had a tone that made Spencer catch his breath. It wasn't an argument, he didn't even hear your voice respond or even give the slightest sign that you were okay. It wasn't so loud, but the pressure of the voice, the possibilities behind it, didn't sit well with you. Especially since you were always reluctant to let anyone into your home.

At that moment, a deafening crash shattered the fragile stillness of the apartment. The sound reverberated through the walls, shaking picture frames and sending a cold jolt straight down his spine. It was the kind of noise that demanded attention, the kind that twisted in the pit of your stomach and told you that something was horribly wrong.

Then—silence.

No voices. No footsteps. Nothing.

It was the silence that gutted him most. His mind instantly spiraled into the worst-case scenarios. Blood pooling across the floor. Your voice screaming his name in pain, only to be silenced. The flicker of movement as someone fled the scene. He couldn’t stop the flood of images from invading his mind. They were vivid, visceral, and rooted in the darkest parts of his imagination.

The silence dragged him back to the nightmares. The ones he’d woken up to every night in that tiny, suffocating prison cell, his heart racing and his breath shallow. Nightmares of iron bars and shouts echoing down narrow corridors. Nightmares of blood in the courtyard, spilling from faceless bodies while the sun mocked him with its indifferent light. Nightmares of whispered threats and the press of a blade against his ribs. They had told him they’d hurt everyone he loved, and for months, he’d believed them.

He had learned survival then—how to block out the fear, how to guard his thoughts, how to endure. But the nights were a different story. He’d lie on that hard, narrow cot, willing his body to rest while his mind conjured the only thing that could keep him sane: the image of you. You smiling. Laughing. You safe. It was the only thing that had kept him alive in a place that wanted to devour him whole.

And now, this silence threatened to destroy that fragile illusion of safety.

Without even thinking, his hand went to the drawer where he kept his new pistol, and his fingers brushed the cold steel. He paused, thinking about how he never thought he would need it in a place like this—a safe apartment in a decent neighborhood, where the most dangerous thing that had ever happened was Mittens knocking over a vase or spilling his hot coffee. Yet now, everything felt wrong—the voice he’d heard earlier, the crash, the gnawing dread in his chest that whispered, you’re too late, for the second time.

His breathing quickened as his hand closed around the grip, pulling the gun from the drawer. The weight of the gun in his palm momentarily calmed him and made him feel in control again, but his mind was already racing, imagining the worst. What if something had happened to you? What if that voice was threatening you or, worse, trying to hurt you? What if that man had already hurt you and that's why your voice couldn't be heard? What if he failed you like he failed in the past? Spencer tightened his grip on the gun, his mind racing as his feet moved faster toward the half-open door of your apartment.

With his body paralyzed with fear for you and his mind screaming for him to come in and make sure you were safe, the door creaked open just enough for him to see inside.

You were standing in the middle of the room, disheveled but unharmed. The sight of you—alive and unhurt—should have brought him relief, but instead, it only stirred confusion. The kitten-faced shirt he had given you for Christmas was wrinkled, your hair wild and unkempt, and faint streaks of dust and paint covered your hands. His eyes darted past you to the man beside the sink, leaning casually over the counter, focused on his work. The sink was dripping steadily, water pooling beneath the cracked faucet, and there, next to it, lay a jagged shard of broken glass on a rag. The man—dressed in worn work boots and a faded flannel shirt—was tinkering with a wrench, his brow furrowed in concentration as he replaced the faucet head.

Damn.

For the first time, Spencer Reid realized something. His instincts were wrong. His mind had misfired. His thoughts, clouded by the lingering darkness of his past and the fear, had led him to the wrong conclusion. For the first time.

The man’s voice broke the silence. “Good thing you called me when you did,” he said cheerfully. “Could’ve ended up with water damage if this had gone much longer. Would’ve been a real shame for your paintings.”

At the mention of your paintings—your most cherished works, your soul poured onto each canvas—your body tensed, a chill running through you. Instinctively, you turned toward the wall where they were propped, vibrant colors peeking out from behind the half-open door, but it wasn’t the paintings that caught your attention.

It was Spencer.

Your heart slammed in your chest as your eyes met his. His face was tight with something you couldn’t decipher, but your gaze was drawn inexorably to the thing in his hand—the weapon he was awkwardly attempting to hide beneath his jacket. The sight hit you like a punch to the gut, your pulse spiking with a mix of confusion, disbelief, and raw fear. It was like the world shifted on its axis, everything around you turning to static, muffled noise.

You couldn’t speak. Your mouth went dry, your throat constricting. No words could come, not while your mind raced, trying to make sense of this moment that felt like a nightmare—and yet, it was all too real.

The man—Mike, your neighbor—remained oblivious, still focused on the task at hand. “All set here,” he said with satisfaction, wiping his hands on a towel, his back still to Spencer. “Just keep an eye on it, and let me know if anything else leaks.”

You swallowed hard, forcing yourself to stay composed. “Yeah…thanks. I really appreciate it.”

Spencer shifted his weight, and you saw his hand, tight on the gun, pressing it awkwardly against his side in an attempt to hide it further. It only made things worse. His actions were clumsy, frantic even, as if he couldn’t decide whether to conceal it or confront you. And you saw it all—the frantic, fearful energy that was pulsing in the air between you. But what stung the most wasn’t just the weapon; it was the confusion in his eyes, the distance that had grown between you, and the unsettling realization that he couldn’t—or wouldn’t—tell you why he was here. Why did he have to carry that gun knowing that you had never even liked to be near the drawer where it was kept?

Mike, noticing a subtle shift in the atmosphere but not understanding its source, glanced at Spencer briefly, his expression faltering slightly as if sensing the subtle change. But he said nothing. He simply gathered his tools and offered an awkward, polite nod. “Well, I’ll let you get back to your day,” he said, too focused on his exit to feel the heaviness that hung in the air. “Always happy to help. Just call me if anything else comes up.”

You didn’t speak. You just moved, stepping forward with a forced smile that felt more like a mask, positioning yourself subtly between them. Your movement was calculated, deliberate—blocking Spencer, hiding the gun, trying to maintain some semblance of normalcy. “Will do,” you said, the words sounding like a brittle lie in your own ears. The brightness of your tone was a poor attempt to mask the tightness in your chest, the hurt you couldn’t quite articulate.

With a nod, he headed toward the door, giving you a wave as he left. “Have a good day!”

“You too,” you managed to reply, your voice thin and strained. You barely registered the words before you were practically ushering him out, closing the door swiftly behind him, the finality of the click of the latch echoing in the silence that enveloped the room.

After a moment, you turned slowly, your hand slipping from the doorknob. Your eyes met his, and the look on his face stopped you in your tracks. His expression was raw, his brows drawn together, lips pressed into a thin line, his knuckles white where they clutched the gun now tucked awkwardly against his side. There was fear in his eyes, but also something else—something darker, harder that you never saw before.

“What,” you began, your voice shaking, “were you thinking?”

Spencer opened his mouth to respond, but nothing came out. His chest heaved, breaths shallow and erratic. His mind, racing at full speed, tried to make sense of the words he needed to say, the ones that would make everything okay, the ones that would make you understand. But nothing fit. Nothing was enough to explain the panic that had taken hold of him, the fear that had driven him to do something he never would’ve imagined.

His gaze darted between your eyes and the gun still clenched in his hand, and a surge of self-loathing flooded him. He looked like a madman. He felt like a madman. His hand twitched, as if it were trying to pull the gun back, to shove it into the recesses of his mind where it belonged. But it was too late. He had already brought it into your life—into your apartment.

You took a cautious step toward him, each movement deliberate, careful. Like you were walking on glass, afraid that the slightest misstep would shatter everything between you. Your eyes flicked down to the gun, and your throat went dry. You swallowed hard, trying to push down the sick feeling in your stomach. “Put it down, please,” you said, your voice steady but thick with unspoken emotions.

For a moment, he didn’t move, his fingers tightening almost imperceptibly around the grip. Then, as if the weight of your words had finally broken through, he blinked and seemed to snap out of a trance. His gaze dropped to the gun in his hand, and a wave of something—shame, regret, maybe even self-loathing—washed over his face. Slowly, carefully, he moved to the table near the entrance and set the weapon down.

The sound of the metal meeting wood was louder than it should have been, echoing in the oppressive silence of your apartment. The sharp clink made you flinch involuntarily, your body tensing as if bracing for something that, thankfully, didn’t come.

“You brought that into my apartment,” you said finally, your voice low and trembling.

“I thought—” he began, but you didn’t let him finish.

“You thought what?” you interrupted sharply, spinning around to face him. Your eyes were blazing, the fury in them cutting through him like a blade. “That you could just storm in here with a gun? That this—” you gestured toward him, your hand shaking, “—was the right thing to do? Even when you know how I feel about…this stuff?”

He knew, of course he did. He knew how much you hated his work and all that it involved, even though you tried hard not to show it every time he told you about it. Spencer knew that anything to do with violence gave you nightmares that only his company and many cartoons could alleviate.

“I thought you were in danger,” he whispered, his voice quieter now but laced with desperation as he took a tentative step toward you. His hands rose slightly, palms outward, as though to show you he wasn’t a threat. He wasn’t trying to intimidate you. “I heard a man’s voice, and then I didn’t hear you at all. There was a crash, something breaking…and I—” His voice cracked, and he clenched his jaw, trying to stop the panic that clawed at him. “I didn’t know what was happening. I thought—God, I thought you were hurt.”

God.

He didn't usually say that word.

“You didn’t know because you didn’t ask.” The words shot out of you like arrows, and the sting was sharp. You took a step back, arms crossed tightly over your chest, trying to shield yourself from the wave of emotion crashing over you. “You didn’t call, you didn’t knock, you didn’t think.”

At that moment, Spencer wasn't sure if he was more hurt by your words or the fear that still haunted your gaze. It was almost as if you were afraid of him, his own mind told him. And it hurt, like a wound that wouldn't stop bleeding.

You took a deep breath, trying to steady yourself, and your eyes narrowed as you stood there, fighting to regain control of your emotions. “If you weren’t ignoring me like the plague, you’d know that my apartment flooded a month ago. I’ve been trying to get the plumbing fixed, but I haven’t had the money until now. That’s what I was doing,” you said, your voice trembling but stronger now, the words tumbling out faster than you intended. “That’s why I had someone over today. He was fixing the leak. He’s just—he’s just a plumber, Spencer. He’s our neighbor from the fourth floor.”

His heart hammered in his chest, and for a moment, he just stood there, taking it all in, the weight of your words sinking into him like a stone. The irrational fear that had gripped him moments ago now seemed distant, almost laughable in the face of what he had just done.

He opened his mouth to apologize, but the words were stuck, tangled in the knot of regret and guilt in his throat.

You met his gaze, searching for something—anything—in his eyes that might show you he understood, that he truly realized how wrong he was. But all you saw was the same deep sorrow, the same painful awareness of the damage he had caused.

“I don’t know what you were thinking,” you whispered, your voice barely audible but cutting through the silence. “Or what happened these last three months that changed you so much.” You shook your head slowly, your eyes glistening with unshed tears. “But that wasn’t it. That’s not how you protect someone. That’s not how you show you care.”

The finality in your words hit him like a blow to the chest. Spencer’s shoulders slumped, and for the first time, he looked truly broken. He stood there, vulnerable and raw, his lips parting as if to speak, but all that came out was a quiet, defeated whisper. “You’re right.”

His voice was barely above a breath, but it carried the weight of every ounce of regret he felt. “I don’t know how to do it. I don’t know how to protect you…or anyone.” His gaze dropped, his hand flexing at his side as if he didn’t know what to do with it. “I haven’t learned.” He exhaled sharply, a sound that was half a sigh and half a plea. “I’m sorry.”

And with that, he stepped forward, each movement slow and deliberate, as if he feared any sudden motion might shatter what little remained between you. His hand reached for the gun on the table, the clink of metal against wood echoing in the room like the final note of a requiem. You flinched at the sound, a subtle but unmistakable movement that made Spencer freeze in place. He saw it—the fear in your eyes, the way your body tensed—and it broke him in ways he didn’t know were possible.

Without another word, he tucked the gun securely away and turned toward the door. His steps were heavy, deliberate, like a man walking toward his own execution. He didn’t look back as he opened it, his silence saying more than words ever could. The door clicked shut behind him, the sound reverberating in the room, leaving you in a deafening, suffocating quiet.

You stood there, frozen in place, the weight of his absence crashing over you. Your chest ached, your mind racing with thoughts you couldn’t stop. For the first time, you weren’t sure if he was still the same man who had made you fall in love.

Because your Spencer would never have hidden a gun in his apartment, even when he was supposed to be suspended and without one. He would never have brought it to your home, especially after hearing you say a thousand times how scared you were of arms. And most of all, he wouldn’t have left the way he did now. He would have stayed. He would have held you, kissed your forehead, and asked for forgiveness a thousand times over until you knew, without a doubt, that he regretted every moment of his mistake.

But he hadn’t. And as the silence pressed down on you, you couldn’t help but wonder if the man you had loved was still there…or if he had already disappeared, piece by piece, in the last three months.

You certainly didn't know a lot of things.

#criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds x reader #spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x fanfiction #spencer reid x you #spencer reid angst #matthew gray gubler

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jonsnowunemploymentera · 2 months ago

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We don’t appreciate enough how GRRM made House Targaryen the poster children for his de/reconstruction of the fantasy chosen family trope, and we don’t appreciate how Jon and Dany are the main lens through which he does that. House Targaryen is fantasy on steroids—magic swords, magic look, magic lineage, perhaps the most magic pet one could have in the genre, and a magic destiny that’s specific to them and only them. There’s a foretold magical conflict and its main hero (as many would think), “the prince that was promised”, specifically has to be a Targaryen. This House’s history is so rich, but from a genre perspective, it is Aerys II’s reign and Robert’s Rebellion that’s the most interesting to analyze. Aerys isn’t special himself, but he is to sire the future savior of the world. Then Rhaegar is born and tragic as they are, all the signs point to him being the promised messiah. And Rhaegar becomes THE fantasy hero on steroids. He’s the perfect heir to House Targaryen’s legacy because not only is he to be the best of them, and many think he would have been had he lived, but he is the most perfect manifestation of House Targaryen as the personification of fantasy. There’s absolutely a point to him living and dying as the heir, the inheritor, the eternal symbol of what could have been of the Targaryen’s old glory.

Part of Rhaegar’s legacy extends to his son Aegon. Aegon had everything Rhaegar didn’t. A comet was seen at his conception—and this is an most important herald for the chosen one. So he is given a song, “the song of ice and fire”, and a king’s name to match his status as the new messiah. He didn’t live long but he inherited Rhaegar’s look in his youth too; the fantasy protagonist look. But Aegon died before he could be the hero.

You see Jon and Dany as chosen ones only works so well because of their House’s history, especially as (anti)parallels to Rhaegar and Aegon. They are the unexpected inheritors and challengers to their house’s legacy but in different ways.

Dany is the most immediate and obvious heir. There’s a beauty to her being the last of them and thus, the one bearing the entire house’s legacy. Dany is THE Targaryen. And in being that, she becomes THE hero. She’s got the hero’s look, the hero’s magic and destiny, and better yet, she got the hero’s sword and pet all in one. And, she’s legitimate! She is House Targaryen. But there’s a problem….shes a girl. And we all know House Targaryen’s history with girls.

Maester Aemon’s “no one ever looked for a girl” is quickly becoming my favorite Dany-related quote because it pretty much encapsulates her entire arc, especially as an inheritor to her house’s legacy. The hero they died knowing and expecting was the boy: first Rhaegar, then Aegon. But father and son are dead. Yet Daenerys lives. She inherits everything else they did and more! The Targaryens tried and failed to bring dragons back, but it was Dany who ultimately did it.

Now, Jon is Dany but flipped. From a meta point of view, he’s more fantasy protagonist than she is. He’s a boy, he’s got a big magic sword that he can swing about, and he’s perhaps fantasy’s most prolific trope in action—the magical hidden prince. But within this story, GRRM flips these two characters. Jon’s fantasy protag-ness doesn’t go away, it just morphs into something else. Unlike Dany, he may be a boy and he may have a sword, but he lacks literally everything else. He doesn’t have the look, his magic powers are from his other family, so is his magic pet, and his magic destiny has thus far developed outside his immediate association with House Targaryen. Dany is “what if Rhaegar was a girl?”, but we can’t even begin to ask these types of questions with Jon because there’s so much that precludes him from the fantasy hero role in story. He’s Rhaegar’s heir…but he doesn’t look like him…and he’s not even legitimate. So what do we do now?

GRRM destroyed his fantasy protag house and decided to build up again from the ground up, but did so by challenging the two most critical points—primogeniture and exceptionalism. With Dany, he makes a girl the Targaryen’s outward successor. This works really well because the Targaryens have a history of denying their female heirs. But now what’s left of them is a girl, and she is literally everything they could have hoped for. And she is a a reflection of her house, but her arc has at many times seen her be the antithesis of her ancestors. And I can’t help but think of the oncoming meta-textual showdown between her and Young Griff. On the surface Young Griff, a boy, is the preferred heir. But Dany is, in truth, the one.

Jon is interesting because, in my view, he challenges the Targaryen idea of exceptionalism. He’s easily the fantasy protagonist from the outside looking in. But he doesn’t have the Targaryen name, nor does he have the look. He has the blood, but what makes him special is that it is mixed with the other major fantasy protagonist house’s blood—he’s special in that he’s a hybrid. And this is interesting because if Aegon conquered the seven kingdoms because of a prophecy regarding him or one of his princely descendants, it’s quite the twist to have this messiah not even be a Targaryen prince (not in name anyway). That’s why all the hand wringing around “is Jon legitimate?” or “no one cares because he doesn’t look like Rhaegar” really isn’t the point. The point is for Jon to be the manifestation of the hero—the king—outside of that narrow framework. And if he succeeds, then GRRM would absolutely still be subverting prophecy and genre conventions.

There’s something to Jon and Dany being born as or after House Targaryen falls. House Targaryen has no crown, no throne, and their prophetic mandate has been usurped. But GRRM is so attached to them, and he certainly wants to rebuild them and hold fantasy to account. But to do so, everything we know about the Targaryens, everything the Targaryens knew about themselves, has to be challenged and put to the test by the personifications of all that a Targaryen hero couldn’t be: a girl, and a bastard.

#I’m not gonna be on tumblr as much because y’know…life and stuff #also I decided to take a crack at the wheel of time….😃 so I’m reading a lot #but coming on here to post my jonerys feels then I can dip….again lol #asoiaf #jon snow #daenerys targaryen #valyrianscrolls #idk this all came to me in a dream #rhaegar targaryen #aegon vi targaryen #this came out kind of jumbled but eh I’m not looking to write anything fancy rn aggssggjhfsrgh #house targaryen

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dontbesoweirdkira · 3 months ago

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There's just so much potential for platonic !yan Tim Drake that isn't really explored. This post may flop but I like to imagine that yan! Tim Drake is actually the worse out of all his brothers...

Masterlist

Requests: always open

Look...you and i both know that Tim is canonically unhinged. But Batsis!reader doesn't. It's so easy for you to forget that your brother Tim is so dangerous. I mean he doesn't really seem all that different from any other nerdy 19 year old. His body doesn't loom over you like the more bulky of your brothers, and his presence is rather...calming? I mean there's still a bit of uneasiness there but it's so subtle that you can brush it off

He's normal when he interacts with you. He doesn't bug you to spend time with him or uncomfortably touch you like Dick does. He is sweet and gentle...He knows how you prefer to be engaged with and respects what you don't like.

But, that's what makes him so dangerous. He knows you. Every. Last. Detail. He's gotten so good at being a nasty little fly on the wall that sometimes you forget he's even in the room. He's always around you, observing and collecting data. He's got you wrapped around his fingers and you don't realize it.

But it's not your fault. It's hard to even imagine that someone as mellow as Tim could ever share the same traits as his brothers.

Yan! Tim fully picked up just how intuitive you are and how you can spot red flags easily. He's so calculated and careful with every interaction. It's amazing how natural he makes these conversations flow. Well, they better. He's spent hours analyzing and practicing how to speak to you. His heart is pounding with anticipation, as every shred of information you give him is going right into his files on you.

Oh! The files he has on you? When Jason and Dick asked him about how many he had, he said only 4. Which is true. but those 4 files have much more information and pictures of you than they could comprehend. ...and he wasn't accounting for the hard drives and physical stacks of papers he stole. I believe Tim knows more about you than you do. When was the last time you've seen your medical records? Passports? Birth certificate? Is your ID even in your wallet? Don't worry, your brother Tim is keeping them safe for you.

Yan! Tim is a little stalker who may or may not have put a tracking/listening devices in your bag so he can keep tabs on you. <33 That's why he's always wearing headphones so he cab listen in. A small piece of missed information could cost him so much. Don't be mad, batsis! He cannot risk making you suspicious of him by asking you invasive questions so this is the only way.

I Like to think you automatically sit by him. whether it be during breakfast, watching a movie or in the car. You feel safer with him and it's a better option in your head than being with Dick who will be overbearing. Tim always acts cool, even a little annoyed by you at times but inside he's screaming. Your scent, your small smiles at him and nudge his shoulders when he makes a funny remark all send him into overdrive.

But i must say, it's exhausting for him to hold back his obsession all of the time. Sometimes he envies his siblings and how shameless they are in their obsessions. Tim Drake thinks about how great it would to be to just be hugged by you or for you to want to fall asleep on him like you do with Jason.

Sometimes, our creepy detective will slip up. He will say or do something that is odd to you

"I cannot remember the name of that song i used to listen to...what was it.."

"It's this one by that local band, sis."

"oh, yeah! wait...how did you-"

"I know you better than i know myself..."

"...what?"

*an incident happened where dick basically forced you to say i love you back. Tim was there and he was so so jealous*

"You love me the most though, right?"

You laughed, thinking it was a joke\

"Sure, Tim. You are my favorite Robin."

*Tim is very visibly becoming feral. Almost in the same way as Dick and you are slightly alarmed*

"...I'm your favorite Robin? So you do love me more than them."

"0-o"

He repeats it over and over again in his mind. If he was recording it like he does with many of your interaction, it will be on instant replay every morning as an affirmation.

That one time you were chilling in the study with Tim. His head was ducked, low into the computer. It was super late by this time and you didn't really want to bother him so you ended up leaving without saying anything, and headed to your room. Tim was beyond hurt that you were breaking his version of bonding time and you had the audacity to not even announce your exit. He's so swift that it startled you when he grabbed your wrist from behind. His grip was....strong.... to say the least..... and he questioned why you were leaving him.

speaking of his strength, Tim is so skinny that you forget he is well trained with a nice bit of muscle. Maybe not as strong as his brothers or Bruce but he can easily subdue you.

He's definitely broken a lock or two, to get into your room at the dead of night and watch you sleep. This is the only time when he can be as fucked up as he wants to. The unhinged look in his eyes while going through your things and taking what's interesting..The adrenaline that you might catch him, excites him. He can't help but to sickly smile as he makes his way over to you and observes. A gentle hand caresses the sides of your face. You're so perfect. He whispers on and on things he wishes he could tell you while you were awake and wouldn't think it was weird....

Maybe even once he's crawled into bed with you, wrapping his arms around you. So happy to be able to finally be able to cuddle like this.

And if you happened to wake up, and realize your dear brother, Tim was there...he has a plan for that. He knows how to play mind games on you and makes you seem like the crazy one. No one would believe you anyways. The locks are all fixed by the morning.

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bitchface24-7 · 18 days ago

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hey, your works are amazing!! your fics inspired me to start an x reader with jayvik (the works are speaking to me lmao)

i kindly request an x reader where the reader is musically inclined as they work? like the boys catch them singing or humming words as they work? i was listening to interdimensional by cosmo sheldrake and the ideal popped in my head. thank you sm for the fics, you’re single-handedly one of my favorite authors on here!!🫶🏽🫶🏽🫶🏽

THEIR LITTLE SONG BIRD - JAYVIK X READER

synopsis: Jayce and Viktor have typically worked in silence, an odd conversation here and there, a small sigh, a quiet swear. They get so absorbed into their work that they essentially do parallel play. Your humming and light singing has changed that. Now, they need that to work in peace; you've become their white noise.

warnings: honestly I can't even think of any. It's pure fluff as V + J just admire you as you work and sing. Grammarly as my beta

genre: m/m/f or m/m/m

p.s. I tend to hum or speak allowed to myself as I work. Sometimes I sing lightly when I'm at home. This was so cute, thanks for requesting! Also, my work inspired you?!?! Babe 🥺🥺 YOU WRITE THAT JAYVIK X READER FIC!

Jayce and Viktor have been so accustomed to their routine that when they realized a change, it almost made them get whiplash.

They've gotten used to working in relative silence. A conversation here and there, ribbing and jokes, a small sigh, and a quiet swear when their work doesn't go the way they want it to. They're intense about their work.

They get super absorbed, nothing can break their attention. They're essentially doing parallel play. Viktor's doing equations, Jayce is using a microscope, they're both fiddling with their prototypes.

And there you are, welding and soldering a prototype. Sparks fly as you work, a protective shield on your face, welders gloves on your hands, and a pair of stained pair of overalls with black steel-toed boots adorn your figure. There's a small peak of a basic white top at your sides.

You eventually take the shield off, your face hot and sweaty as you push a strand of hair off your forehead. You turn off the necessary machines and observe your work, you mentally note where you need to sand down and buff out.

Then the change occurs.

As you sand and buff your prototype, you hum a small tune. Viktor and Jayce don't notice until the lyrics spill from your lips.

"I'd be the voice that urged Orpheus When her body was found (Hey, yeah) I'd be the choiceless hope in grief That drove him underground (Hey, yeah) I'd be the dreadful need in the devotee That made him turn around (Hey, yeah)

And I'd be the immediate forgiveness In Eurydice Imagine being loved by me."

The two men whip around and swear they got whiplash. You're lightly singing, the notes sweet and crooning. They almost feel like they're getting hypnotized, the lyrics make them curious. It sounds like it's mentioning the well known Greek tragedy of Orpheus and Eurydice, and comparing your love to theirs. They've never heard this song before, but they want to hear more.

The two of them stop working, turning to look at you with a wistful look in their eyes.

You're so... beautiful. They way your face is completely focused on your task. Your eyes narrowed, your lips pursed, your eyebrows lightly furrowed. The singing as you work gives you a natural grace, an ethereal glow.

Viktor leans his head on his hand as he watches you in admiration, and Jayce sighs in wonder. At that sound, you stop singing and look up at the two men, your buffing halted.

The two men flounder and try to look like they weren't admiring you. They fail. Horrendously.

"What?" You ask, a light giggle in your tone.

Jayce just flusters and rubs the back of his neck, swiveling around to not look at you. You raise a brow in suspicion and turn to look at Viktor. If Jayce won't answer you, Viktor will.

"We didn't realize you sing as you work, until now." Viktor states, he quirks his head to the side as he analyzes you, "You have a very nice voice. I could imagine the upper echelon of Piltover paying lots of money to hear you."

You feel your face heat up lightly, and you can't blame it on your face shield, "I-- yeah. I always hum when I work. I'm surprised you just noticed it now."

"You hum." Jayce states, finally joining the conversation, "That's different. You were actually singing this time. We weren't expecting it, but you did sound very lovely."

You smile at your two partners and go back to working, they do too eventually. A smile lights up both their faces when they hear you continue the song.

"I won't deny I've got in My mind now (Hey, yeah) All the things I would do So I try to talk refined for fear That you find out (Hey, yeah) How I'm imaginin' you."

Now each time they hear you hum, or lightly sing a tune; their hearts beat erratically and they can't stop the smile spreading across their face.

Their Little Song Bird.

🥺🥺🥺 I love them, your honour. This was so rdjfigjydugh, thank you for requesting! Hope y'all enjoyed this, love ya! ❤️ (i love Hozier, oh to have a song about me written by him, I'd feel like a goddess)

#arcane #viktor arcane #jayce talis #arcane imagine #arcane x reader #viktor imagine #viktor x reader #jayce imagine #jayce x reader #jayvik x reader #banners by cafekitsune

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sluts4matt · 11 months ago

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SQUEEZE

pairing: rough!dom matt x latina!reader

summary: not only had you been teasing him all day while he was trying to work, when he finally did give you attention all you gave him back was attitude and sass and matt was having none of it.

warnings: SMUT, shits fucking ROUGH, making out, degradation, orgasm denial, slight bondage, dumbification, overstimulation, pet names, fingering, oral (male receiving), light smacking, p in v, choking, spanking

word count: 2162

author's note: this is based off of squeeze by ghostmane because the songs just so 🥰.

matt had been working all day, leaving you bored and alone. you'd tried your best to keep your mind occupied, but your favorite tv shows didn't entertain you for as long as they normally did and nothing seemed to be interesting enough for you to do for the rest of the day.

with a sigh you looked next to you, staring at the mirror on the bathroom door on the side of matt's bed. an idea popped into your head, your lips turning into a mischeveous grin.

you planted your feet on the hard wood ground, making your way to the drawer you had that occupied the boys dresser. you grabbed the blue set out of it, going into his bathroom to change into it.

you put the bra on, looking at yourself in the mirror. the laced cups fit you well, pushing your breast up nicely and showing them off perfectly.

the bottoms were a little different. the front had lace flowers sewn onto the fabric, the upper part having a little bow. while the back was a simple blue string. you looked at your figure, your hips and ass looking good in the set.

you left the bathroom, positioning yourself on matt's bed before aiming your phone at the mirror. you snapped a picture, your eyes running over it as you analyzed every detail of it. with a satisfied hum, you sent it to the boy.

to flipped the view on the camera to selfie mode, raising your phone up to angle it down at your breast. the lace on the top made them look so much better, the bra holding them nicely. you took a picture, sending it to him.

you let out a small giggle when you see him open the first picture, a smile planted on your lips as the three dots appear. 'not funny my love, i'm with nick and chris,' you gave a small pout, even though he couldn't see.

'i'm bored' you replied, putting your phone down on his bedside table. you let out a huff, getting off the bed to go back into the bathroom.

"this is boring." you mumbled, stripping out of the lingerie and throwing it on the counter. you pulled the previous sweater you were wearing back on. the green fabric hanging off your body loosely, looking more like a dress then a sweater.

the black dinosars stood out nicely, and you smiled at the item on your body. it wasn't yours, well not technically. but as matt said, what is his is yours.

a few hours had passed and you were laying under the brown silk covers of matt's bed. your eyes were closed as the sounds of the tv filled the room. the door clicked, creaking open as matt peaked his head in.

"miss me?" he asks, shutting the door behind him. you don't respond, upset about the fact that you had been at his house, alone, all day. matt rolled his eyes, "i asked you a question love," he said, kneeling on the bed beside you.

"nope," you say, popping the 'p'. you sit up, turning your body to plant your feet against the ground. you stand up to begin walking out when your shoved against the wall with a soft hand around your neck.

the cold metal of his rings making you gasp, "you done?" a small whine threatens to leave your mouth, but you hold it back, not wanting to give him the satisfaction. "being a brat earlier and then giving me attitude just now calls for punishment," matt says, his voice low and deep.

his hands make quick work of tying your wrist together, one of your nearby black scarfs being wrapped around them. "on the bed," he commands, and you follow.

the sheets were warm from you being on them, the soft fabric rubbing against the bare skin on your legs. you were pulled closer to the edge of the bed, matt's fingers slipping in the waistband of your shorts, tugging them down.

without warning he landed a smack to your ass, a gasp leaving your mouth as your body jolted forward. he brought his hand back up to land another blow to your other cheek. he didn't give you a break, his hands continuously smacking the plump flesh.

tears threatened to fall as your mouth fell agape, the pain and pleasure mixing together. his hand left the sore skin, the red marks visible even on your tan complexion.

his hand landed a few more rough smacks before roughly kneading he flesh in his hand, making you wince from the skin being pinched by his rings.

you heard him let out a low growl before his fingers trailed between your folds, your wetness evident. "you like that baby?" he asks, his voice mocking. "you like me hurting you? you're so fucking pathetic," he spat, his words only making you soak his fingers more.

you whimper, nodding your head the best you could. his other hand reached up to grab your hair, tugging your head back, making your back go against his chest, as he shoved two of his fingers inside you.

your mouth fell agape, the stretch stinging, yet the pleasure overtaking it. his fingers fucked you, curling and hitting the right spot each time. the coil in your stomach was about to burst, and you knew if you were to cum without his permission, you'd be in deep shit.

"fuck, matt," you breathe, earning a low chuckle, "already?" he mocks, scissoring his fingers inside you, "you're so easy for me, aren't you baby? just my little plaything," he growls into your ear, his lips trailing down your shoulder, sucking the skin between his teeth.

"mhm, fuck," you whine, "just you," you breathe. a smile grows on his face as his hand pulls out of you, making your legs shake as he does. he grabs your hips, pulling you up. he turns your around, his hand going to your head as he pushes you back down, your knees hitting the floor.

your eyes widen, feeling the bulge in his pants against your cheek. his fingers tangle in your hair, pulling your head back, "you know what to do," he says, his free hand pushing the grey fabric of his sweats down his legs.

his hard cock springs up, the tip a deep red as a small drop of pre-cum drips down. your lips wrap around his head, taking the length down your throat. he lets out a low groan, his head falling back as you bob your head.

his hand on your head pushes you down further, "come on baby, know you can take more," he breathes, your throat constricting as you take more. a low groan leaves his lips, "just like that," he says, the sound of his praise sending waves to your core.

his hips thrust on their own accord, pushing in and out of your mouth as his hand continues its movements on your head. his cock hits the back of your throat, making your eyes tear up. you try to pull away, but his hand holds you down, making you take him all.

his breathing quickens, the grip on your hair tightening, "so good, so fucking good," he growls, you hum around him, making him let out a whimper. his eyes squeeze shut; his jaw clenched. his body tenses, a low moan leaving his mouth as his load spills down your throat.

he lets out a shaky breath, his hand untangling from your hair. "so good," he breathed, tugging you up. his hand comes across your cheek, unexpectedly, but softly. his hand grabs your jaw, squeezing it. "i'm gonna ruin you princess," he growled.

he tugged his shirt over his head, throwing it to the side. he swiftly untied the scarf around your wrist, pushing you back against the bed. your back hit the sheets, the air leaving your lungs. he hovered over you, his head dipping into the crook of your neck.

his teeth bit down on the skin harshly, piercing the flesh with his teeth. "you bored now? hmm?" he asked, his hot breath against your neck, his teeth never leaving the skin. he sucked the skin between his lips, biting down harder.

you whimper, a sharp sting traveling throughout your body, "no," you breathed, your chest rising and falling rapidly. "fuck," you whisper, a smile growing on matt's face as he pulled away.

he admired his work, the dark marks splayed out against your neck and collarbone area. his hand pushes his sweater up your torso, his lips connecting with the soft skin as he kissed his way up to one of his favorite spots of your body.

your boobs. his tongue parted his lips, trailing up the skin before capturing your right bud in between his teeth making you let out a squeal. your back arched, the pleasure of his warm mouth surrounding your nipple making you squirm.

your hands flew to his head, tangling themselves in his hair. he detatched his mouth, a tsking noise leaving his lips as he shoved your hands over your had. "no touching, brats don't get to touch," he spat, his mouth latching onto your left bud.

you whimper, "please," you beg, a low chuckle leaving his lips. "please what? you tryna apologize for being such a bitch earlier? you think a little 'please' is gonna get me to forgive you?" he spat, his teeth nipping at the sensitive bud.

he pulled away, sitting up and shoving your legs apart. his hands hooked themselves under your thighs, his nails digging into the skin. he pulled you closer to him, lining his cock with your entrance.

he pushed in, a loud gasp leaving your lips. "you're always so tight," he groaned, his hips rolling. his length pushed into you, filling you up and hitting the right spots. "fuck, matt," you whine, squeezing your fists shut, surely leaving crescent marks with your nails.

he lets out a low chuckle, a sadistic smile on his face, "what's wrong princess? you close already?" he cooed, his hips snapping into yours. your eyes roll back, your mouth hanging open as he moves his hips at an animalistic pace.

the squelching noise of your cunt and skin on skin could be heard through the room. "shit, baby," he growled, his nails digging into the flesh of your thighs, the stinging sensation making tears build up in your eyes.

his hips were relentless, pounding into you with a brutal force. one of his hands went to the headboard for stability, his other one going to the bend of your knee, pushing it forward.

his cock pushed in deeper, hitting all the right spots. "fuck, fuck," you moaned, the coil in your stomach about to burst, "matt please," you begged, his hand flying down to grip your throat, his rings pushing against the skin.

"no," he grunted, the tears falling down your cheeks, "please," you repeated, a small whine following after.

"you think you deserve to cum?" he asks, his voice low and deep, "this was what you wanted, no?" his hand tightens around your throat, "to have me fuck you stupid, ruin you.

"you don't deserve it, not after how you acted," his hand leaves your throat, smacking your cheek with enough force to turn your head.

"but i'll allow it," he said, his thumb moving down to rub your clit, "because you're mine," his lips came down to press a soft kiss to your lips, a loud moan escaping your mouth. the coil was about to burst, the knot in your stomach tightening.

"fuck, yes," you whimper, "please, please," you begged. "go on," he growled, his thumb never stopping its motions, "cum, cum all over my cock. show me who owns this pretty pussy, princess." he groans, his hips never slowing down.

"fuck, matt!" you scream, the knot finally breaking as the waves of pleasure course through your body. a high pitched whine leaves your lips, the sensitivity kicking in as he continues to push his hips against yours.

your hands move from the spot above your head to gripping the back of matt's shoulder, your nails leaving angry marks eliciting a whimper from the boy.

"that's my girl," he groans, the overstimulation beginning to kick in as he chases his high. "so pretty, all for me, right? just a fucking plaything," he grunts, the bed frame smacking against the wall as your legs bounce with each movement.

"all yours," you breathe, the tears rolling down your face, the stimulation becoming too much. his hips stutter, his breathing labored as his moans become higher pitched, his hand on the headboard gripping it until his knuckles turn white.

"fuck, princess," he whimpers, his hips pushing against yours before stopping completely. his forehead drops down against yours, his chest rising and falling rapidly. he peppers kisses all on your face, "don't fucking tease when i'm working, ya?"

tag list:

@chrryclouds @sturniolossss @junnniiieee07 @sturnioloa @tillies33ssss @hysteria-things @etvar12 @lily-strnlo @freshsturns

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