#taylor!verse | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

shinycollarboneapologist · 1 year

Text

hoax

pt 3 to the taylor!verse or they definitely learn how to communicate.

content: not entirely smutty, but alludes to smut so 18+ only please, hurt no comfort, matty lies :/

matty’s departure for a tour usually pans out in one of two ways: a. you aren’t even privy to the fact that he’s left until he sends you a random dick pic in the middle of the afternoon, claiming it's two am his time and he misses you so so so much, or b. you’re getting woken up at six in the morning because he’s conveniently forgotten to secure a ride to the airport.

so, you sit and wait for the text. either one would work at this point, (though you’re a bit impartial to not being woken up with a picture of his dick).

you don’t just get a text however, you get multiple. a slew of messages wake you up from your slumber. multiple are him just asking if you’re awake because he’s bored out of his mind without you. others are him telling you all about the city he’s in and that you have to come visit because there’s so much good food and record shops and the vintage store he found has the best band tees he’s ever seen so he needs to know your size as soon as possible so he can buy you one. there’s an interesting use of emojis, too. you laugh to yourself as you begin to reply, but you’re immediately cut off by an incoming facetime from the man in question.

this continues for a few days- him in constant contact and you both ending your night on the phone together with him making promises of sweet nothings and baseless love. it's like he took a page right out of the “how-to-be-a-boyfriend-without-the-label handbook”, the perfect page at least to make you feel that deep down maybe in some parallel lifetime you were his and he was yours. and when he talks you through a mind-numbing orgasm later that night, having you puppeteer a ghost of what he would do to you had he been there, he asks you if you're his. and like you always do, you say yes through gasps for air and contorts of pleasure. you never ask if he’s yours though, the thought slips your mind at the moment. but you don’t need to because you know.

the next day, he calls and asks what your schedule looks like. you tell him there’s a lull in filming at the moment and that you’re free until a little over a month from now. he giggles, deviously, and you have half a mind to ask him what that’s all about. but he ends the call before you can. your confirmation comes about an hour later when you receive a text message with hotel and flight information and a cheeky “see you soon x”. you don’t push the envelope by questioning his intentions. instead, you make sure you tie up any loose ends for the next week and pack a bag.

he picks you up from the airport in yet another rented red convertible.

“you have a type, don’t you?” you laugh.

he shoots you a look, tossing your bag that he insisted on carrying for you into the backseat. “piss off.”

it only fuels your laughter, watching the way his face scrunches up as he rounds the car to get in the driver’s seat.

“mean it. I’ll leave you here,” his tone sounds serious, but there’s a hint of a smile on his lips and a glimmer in his eyes.

you roll your eyes as you hop in the car, “who’s going to get you off then, hm?”

he doesn’t respond. his hand finds itself on your thigh and that’s the answer you need.

for the first few days, it all seems normal. you fall into a sense of routine quite easily; waking up in a new hotel room, eating the hotel’s excuse for breakfast, lounging by the pool for a few hours, getting ready, going to the show, leaving for the after-party, leaving said after party early with matty whispering filthy promises in your ear, ending up in his room yet again, and then sneaking back out to your own hotel room before anyone would notice you were missing. it’s easy, to fall into this routine with him- especially on the days he has off and you two muck about in new cities, acting like tourists and finding new vintage stores. it’s like there was no ignoring and pining, just two friends (who happen to know each other’s bodies like the back of their hands) exploring and having a grand old time. painless, fun. easy.

until it isn’t.

she shows up on the fifth day of your trip. a woman mirroring your features. she’s an actress with a name that sounds like yours.

you had hardly noticed until you go to breakfast the next morning and she’s sat next to matty. your seat. he’s laughing at a joke she’s telling, wrapped up in her effortlessly. you don’t blame him. she’s funny and beautiful. you don’t blame her either for the way she looks at him because it's the same exact way you do.

he introduces you as his friend, with his arm wrapped over her shoulders and a permanent smile on his lips. the knife is twisting deeper. the wound only grows larger as she giggles out how matty’s told her so much about you and how much she loved the last movie you were in and did you know that matty and george had a hand in the soundtracking, they’re so talented, aren’t they? through a pained smile, one that matty would’ve picked up on (should’ve picked up on) had he been paying any attention to you, you’re nodding and thanking her. you excuse yourself before you can endure anymore, blaming it on a conference call. you feel stupid. used and stupid and confused.

you don’t notice matty’s eyes following you out of the room, a sallow expression overtaking his once gleeful smile.

there’s a knock at your hotel room. It’s just after two-thirty in the morning. you’re barely even opening the door before he’s pushing his way in, taking you in his arms and kissing the breath from your lips, sucking all of the air out of your lungs. you melt into him as you always do, fingers tangling in his hair and whines vibrating onto his lips. he takes you apart bit by bit with his tongue like his life depends on it, building you up to a blinding finish over and over and over again. you’re practically pulling him off of you in an attempt to hold onto whatever sanity you have left. and when he kisses you again, you taste yourself in his mouth; a small sliver of the remnants of your fantasy. he kisses you like he’s yours; your own perfectly curated shade of blue, a color mixed so tenderly and carefully like no other you’ve ever known.

you don’t ask him if he is yours, because you don’t have to. you never have to. not with the way he looks at you, a reflected image of your own dazed smile.

the last girl leaves and is replaced with another mirror of you. his late-night visits become far and few. time’s slipping away as quickly as he is, and there’s only three days left before you’re due back home for a photoshoot.

you didn’t notice it all until george brings it up as you two share a smoke on a balcony overlooking a new city. the air is crisp and the warmth brought by the blanket over your shoulders is a necessity.

“where’s matty?” he asks, exhaling the cloud of smoke in front of him with an outstretched hand holding the joint out to you.

you gladly accept, shrugging your shoulders and taking a hit, “haven’t seen much of him besides when he’s on stage.”

his eyebrows furrow and a tilt of his head comes soon after. you don’t like that look. it bubbles a deep feeling in your chest that radiates throughout your body and out into the air. you exhale as a means to eradicate it all, trying to push it away but there’s no use.

“weren’t you with him last night? i called and heard a voice in the back, sounded like yours.”

with the look you give him, he knows he’s ultimately shit the bed. your mind starts racing to matty telling you he was going to be busy for the next few nights, something about rewrites and creative processes but your mind was too hazy from the pleasure induced matty high to have it really resonate with you. you remember how he answered a phone call in the other room, just out of earshot so you wouldn’t be able to hear him. the feeling only grows.

“i uh, i wasn’t. i thought he was with you,” you swallow, thickly. your throat feels dry, but you’re accepting the joint again anyway.

george just shakes his head, offering you a solemn glance.

you feel sick. he’s on tour; singing songs he’s written about you yet, still shacking up with girls that aren’t you but look and act like you at the end of the night. so what's the matter with you, exactly? he makes you promise him that you’re his and you’ve never once asked him if that was reciprocated. he’s never once said it. but he acts like he’s yours in the middle of the night and under the covers and over text messages at ungodly hours. he tastes like he’s yours when he kisses you with so much fervor and longing that you forget how to breathe.

there are two days before you have to leave now. after the revelation on the balcony with george, you find yourself packing your bags, hurriedly. deuxmoi is calling her his next girlfriend, going on and on and gushing about how happy he looks for once. you’re sick to your stomach, excusing yourself from the gig that night with a lie about some casting call with your manager.

it’s late when they get back and matty is still riding his stage high. when he sees you outside the hotel, hushing furious secrets on the phone, it all comes crashing down. bile rises to his throat and he approaches you with a cigarette tucked between his lips.

“so we lie to each other, now?”

you jump, not expecting to see him until morning. your scoff falls into the air, ignored as he stares at you indignantly awaiting your response.

“you’re one to talk, matt.” the name feels foreign on your tongue, syllables that haven’t escaped your vernacular recently.

“if you didn’t want to come tonight, why lie about it?” it was a blow to his ego, no doubt, to not have you there tonight. but he deserved it.

“i’m not the liar here.” your words cast a heavy dark cloud over him, “why have you been avoiding me?”

“i didn't... i’m not avoiding you,” he sputters.

your reserve breaks, another lie.

“did you invite me here just so you could sleep with me if one of your friends didn’t feel up to it?”

the words leak out of your lips, dripping with malice like white-hot venom. they’re out in the open now, there’s no way for you to take them back as you wait for his response. the end of his cigarette illuminates as he takes another hit, eyes forward now. he didn’t dare make eye contact, too afraid of the nonsense that would boil over if he did.

“it’s not.. it’s not like that-”

“then enlighten me, matty.”

matty looks at you, finally, pensive as if waiting for you to go on, “i don’t understand.”

“why did you invite me here?”

“i think it’s pretty obvious?” an awkward laugh falls from his lips.

“god, i’m so fucking dumb,” you groan and run a hand over your face, wishing the earth would just swallow you whole, “i’ve been here waiting for a sign that maybe just maybe things were changing and i didn’t waste years of my life pining after a man who doesn’t care about me but instead sees me as an opportunity to get laid when his long line of women runs dry.”

“that’s bullshit! you were off doing the same things i was-”

“yeah, but i stopped because i…”

“you what?”

“i fell in love with you,” you confess.

you watch as his mouth bobs up and down. the air feels as if it’s been sucked out of your lungs, yet again, and you so badly want to just take back everything you said, beginning with your inquisition and your later revelation to him. you’re not sure if you even want him to say anything at this point, knowing that whatever he says is not going to help you lick the self-inflicted wounds or heal the mess you’ve so brilliantly perpetrated.

there’s an utterance of your name as he tosses aside the ember of his cigarette. you shake your head though, don’t want to hear what he has to say. the moment has come and gone, fleeting like a flash of lightning before a clap of thunder. he steps towards you, hands shifting as he wonders if he should touch you or just keep them to himself. he chooses the latter and you have to swallow down the tears as they sting at the corners of your eyes. you’re not about to give him the satisfaction.

“you don’t have to say anything,” your voice permeates the thickened air. his eyes search yours relentlessly, but you remain stoic in how you speak. “but if it isn’t obvious. this,” you gesture between the two of you, “i can’t do it anymore. at least not like it was before. and i’m not about to push you into something you’re not ready for. so, i’ve decided to just take myself out of the equation.”

“well that’s hardly fair,” he scoffs, his voice laced with his own thick emotion.

“i need to do this for me, though.”

“if you just give me some time-”

“matty, i can’t. if it’s taking you this long to even remotely have a response towards me telling you how i feel then it’s not going to happen and we both just need to move on.”

“but,” he swallows, “i want you to stay.”

“i can’t, not like this.”

“you knew what this was when we started, so i don’t know why you’re getting like this. can’t we just forget this happened? i won’t see her again if that makes you feel any better,” matty’s eyes are red and bloodshot and you watch as he blinks a few times as if to ward off tears.

“you can’t treat me one way behind closed doors, telling me you’re mine and kissing me like that and filling my head up with this faithless love and then make it out to be like none of that has ever happened.”

“that’s how it’s always been!”

“why can’t you just face the fact that things have been different between us?”

matty looks down at his shoes, “i didn’t notice that…”

“that’s bullshit, matty.” you cry out.

“i don’t want you to leave. not like this.”

“then give me a reason to stay. tell me that it’s not just in my head, that you feel what i feel, and that i’m not just imagining it all,” you plead, “tell me you want me the way i want you.”

matty stays silent for a minute or two, you’ve stopped counting. instead you’re holding your breath to put off crying, trying to will some kind of higher being to reverse the clock. you feel your grip on the upper hand begin to slide when his eyes meet yours again. he utters your name, begging with you. but it’s too late, you’re exasperated and tired of the back and forth and on and off and hot and cold. you just want to hear him say it. you’ve never had to ask him before, but your assumptions have left you feeling empty and slighted.

the second utterance of your name is all the confirmation you need. your eyes are stinging and you just shake your head at him, but he keeps speaking anyway. you wish you could stop listening, stop falling into his trap.

“i do want you. always," he steps towards you somberly, hands outstretched.

“you know that’s not what i mean,” you whisper in fear of what your voice would sound like even a decibel louder. you’ve lit the candle from both ends, enjoying the feeling of claiming him as your own and having him around without the vindication that he feels the same way. and now you’re left with the ashes of what was, forced to clean up the mess that’s left behind and hopefully clean up yourself as well. for years, you’ve put him first, let his entire being consume you whole, and paint you a shade of blue. but it was all a hoax, a game constructed by the man who stood before you so he could have his cake and eat it, too.

that seems to be enough for him to drop your hand. you hadn’t even realized he picked it up. and that’s the worst part of it all, you think, is he’s letting you go now without so much of a fight. the war is over, a winless fight, and as the dust settles all you can think about is how you’ve never once gotten the clarification.

you never asked him if he was yours because you never had to. but in hindsight, maybe you should have.

#hey :)#matty healy x reader #matty healy fanfic #matty healy smut #matty healy angst #my writing.#taylor!verse #✏️ - matty.

239 notes · View notes

anemiic-dreams · 5 months

Text

#90s #nu metal #metal band #slipknot #joey jordison #corey taylor #sid wilson #craig jones #shawn crahan #mick thomson #chris fehn #jim root #paul gray #the subliminal verses #slipknot album #early 2000s #mall goth #cassette

1K notes · View notes

moonlitswimmingpooltv · 6 months

Text

“now that we don’t talk i don’t have to pretend i like acid rock, or that i’d like to be on a mega yacht with important men who think important thoughts” FUNNIEST VERSE ON THE ALBUM!!!!!

#id say funniest verse ever but ibytam exists so i can’t #taylor swift #1989 taylor's version

1K notes · View notes

nerdyqueerr · 10 days

Text

The Amazing Devil truly knocked it out of the park with Fair in terms of love songs i mean its got everything. Domesticity, deep adoration, confessions of love when youre sure no one else can hear, a that's what she said joke, yogurt, genuinely dont think there's a more romantic song on the face of the earth

#its everything 2 me you dont understand #the 'him' in that song.... hes so me #need to have a word with joey batey and madeleine hyland abt this one fr #god. the thats what she says joke almost reduces me to tears sometimes.#how unreasonably in love i am with everything you do!!!!#i cant even pick more lines from the verses to quote like its all so. waugh.#they werent lying that devil sure can amazing #their constant ability to marry small ridiculpus mundane things with profound metaphorical epic things really shines in Fair. idk #every time i see a bad taylor swift lyric in the next few days ill just listen to some tad to cleanse my soul #my shit #the amazing devil

412 notes · View notes

breakbleheavens · 2 months

Text

I CAN SEE YOU Taylor Swift: The Eras Tour (Taylor's Version) (2024) dir. Sam Wrench

#tswiftedit #taylorswiftedit #tswiftgif #taylor swift #the eras tour #eras tour #eras tour film #speak now (taylor's version)#I can see you #*mine #*2024 #*gifs #mine: eras tour #mine: speak now #I loveeee this song and this performance so much the guitar playing the higher octave in the second verse...chefskiss #also it's soooo good to gif 540px hd professionally filmed videos after giffing tiktoks for like a week omg

719 notes · View notes

azuremist · 9 months

Text

Morally, I’m against death threats. That being said, I really, really, REALLY hope that something horrifically bad happens to this person

#hobie brown #punk #spider verse #spiderverse #spiderpunk #spider punk #atsv #anti swifties #anti taylor swift #azure does a thing #taylor swift #<- for myself

1K notes · View notes

bl33ditout · 1 year

Text

slipknot // vol. 3: (the subliminal verses) (2004)

1K notes · View notes

moon-rivr · 6 months

Text

(i mixed these two together so i hope that it’s okay with the individual anons :D )

dress

pairing: miguel o’hara x fem reader

content: smut, feelings of betrayal(not from reader), unprotected p in v, oral (f and m receiving), begging (from reader), panty sniffing

author’s note: quick question, do you all prefer longer (4k+ words) or shorter fics 🤨 italics is flashback btw :) (i’m not rly a swiftie so i’m sorry if i butchered this 😭)

word count: 3.5k

The dress itself was nothing short of beautiful, the shade of red accentuated you beautifully and it hugged your curves perfectly. Though you received many compliments and longing looks from the people at the event, none of them were from the man that you wanted. You weren't too sure if you'd see him again after such a long time being away from Nueva York but you kept your hopes up. The room was full of your soon-to-be coworkers but you had little interest in trying to maintain pointless conversation with them.

You walked over to the food table and grabbed yourself a Coke with a bag of chips, the rest of the food looking unappealing. You turned around and were met with a broad chest, the impact causing you to stumble back a little bit and drop your chip bag. "Sorry about that," you told the person you'd bumped into, grabbing your chips. "No worries, it's all good."

The voice took you back to the days of sneaking around the library when no one was around, of hiding around in the bleachers after football practice was over, and of the day you left Nueva York. You weren't expecting to find him so fast in the crowd, but you had to admit that the time apart had done him well. He was no longer the tall and awkward boy you met during a study group but a man molded by experience and muscle.

"You look as beautiful as the first day I saw you," Miguel lowered his head to whisper in your ear, affirming your suspicions that he'd recognized you. You had about a thousand words that you wanted to say to him but none of them could compute into complete sentences. When you opened your mouth to respond, you were left by yourself at the food table. You decided to push away the butterflies that were swarming around in your stomach and went to go talk to some of the other people at the event.

You'd taken your letter from Columbia back to Miguel's house, a unsaid pact between the two of you that you'd open your letters together. You could only hope that the amount of endless nights studying in the library would pay off but a part of you felt dread at having to open it. You knocked on his door, shifting from foot to foot nervously as you waited for his response. He came out with his headset half on, wearing a pair of sweatpants and thick black glasses. "Hey, come in," he told you, gesturing you to come in.

"I got waitlisted," you told him as you opened the letter, looking up to see that his expression had shifted to something solemn. "It's okay. we can still go to college together. You got accepted to NYU right?" He tried to offer a solution but you bit down on your bottom lip, trying to figure out the best way to tell him. "I'm not staying in Nueva York for college. I applied to UCLA and got in. I hope you're not mad at me or anything," you responded, playing with your fingers nervously. "It's okay, we'll stay in contact and call every weekend."

The two of you did not stay in contact after the first couple months and you felt like you were just a spectator in his life. He'd been going to clubs and frat parties, a complete 180 from who you'd met, and the realization that you didn't fit into his life anymore hit hard. Though you wished that you could've ended things in person with him, you ended up breaking up with him in text after seeing him get too cozy with a girl on his Instagram story. You knew that it was your decision to go away but you couldn't help but feel upset at how fast he'd moved on from you.

"Are you okay? You've been staring into space for a while," One of your coworkers spoke, breaking you out of your thought as they waved a hand in front of your face. You blinked, returning your attention back to the conversation at hand. “Yeah, I’m all good. What's this about the cafeteria on the second floor though?" you responded, trying to engage in the conversation even though you felt a pair of red eyes staring at your every movement.

The evening went by quickly and soon enough, the event began to wind down. You thanked your boss for the job opportunity and for hosting the party before heading out, waiting for your taxi outside. Goosebumps formed on your skin as you shifted from foot to foot, unaccustomed to the Nueva York night air. You felt a jacket on your shoulders, looking up to see Miguel standing there next to you. "I know you don't owe me anything but I'd like to talk to you. It's been a while," he spoke up after a while, his voice coming out raw like it'd been difficult just to get the words out.

The drive back to Miguel’s place was spent mostly in silence with some questions coming from the taxi driver in front. "So how long have the two of you been dating?" the man up front asked as he approached a red light, doing his best to be polite. Miguel kept his mouth shut, practically drilling holes at the taxi driver's headrest with his eyes. "We're not dating, actually," you responded awkwardly, offering a small smile to counteract the glaring from the man next to you. "Oh, I’m sorry for assuming," he responded, staying quiet for the rest of the ride after that.

"Thank you," you told the taxi driver once he pulled up to Miguel’s penthouse, getting your wallet out to pay. Miguel pushed your hand away and handed the driver a twenty, getting out of the car without a word. "Sorry about him. He's a little.. temperamental," you mumbled, getting out of the car after Miguel. You followed him up to his house, taking note of how nice the area was around you two. He gestured you to come in, holding the door open for you.

You stepped inside his house and you couldn't help but notice that even though he lived in an expensive neighborhood and he had expensive furniture around the place, the house was devoid of anything that made it a home. Miguel shut the door and unbuttoned his shirt at the top as he walked over to the kitchen. "You didn't eat anything at the party, what do you want to eat?" He asked you, leaning against the counter a bit as he waited for your response. "I’m not hung-" you started to say but your grumbling stomach betrayed your words. "Whatever's easy to make then."

"When'd you get back to Nueva York?" He asked, his voice taking on a note of indifference like the time you'd spent beforehand didn't matter to him. "I got back around three months ago, I think? I’m still getting adjusted to living on the east coast again," you responded, thanking him for the meal that he'd made. The smell of seasoning and spices filled up the kitchen after he was done cooking, the plate of food looking nothing less than inviting. "And you didn't think to call me? To see how I was doing without you?"

You almost choked on your food as he asked you these questions and you immediately reached out to grab the bottle of water he'd set down. "I didn't think that we were in a position for friendly conversation. Last time I saw you, you were dancing with some girl at a club," you responded, keeping your eyes on your food so you wouldn't have to meet his face. He sat down across from you, his presence demanding for you to pay attention to him. "You left me. You don't know how hard it's been to force myself not to call you and see how you're doing. To see if you still think about me as much as I think about you," he told you, his gaze unwavering as he looked at you.

"Tell me, why'd you apply to Alchemax?" He asked you after a couple moments of silence and you played with your food as you tried to avoid the question. "It's one of the best genetics labs in the country. It'll do miracles for my career," you responded, telling him the same lie that you told yourself when you clicked on the application button. "Ese cuento ni te lo crees tú. Te estoy pidiendo la verdad, nada mas y nada menos. Why'd you apply to Alchemax?" he asked you once more and you felt your defenses come down with the way his eyes softened as he looked at you. (you don’t even believe that story. i’m asking you for the truth, nothing more and nothing less)

"Because I was hoping to see you again, Miguel. I didn't think it would happen so soon and I would've been happy just to see that you were okay," you responded, finishing up with your food as you avoided all eye contact with him. "Then why'd you leave me?" He inquired, looking like the boy who'd gotten rejected from the football team all those years ago. "I didn't leave you, specifically. I left because I wanted to discover who I was without you, Miguel. I was just your girlfriend during high school, and while I don't regret our relationship one bit, I also didn't know who I was without you," you told him honestly, standing up to clean up the plates.

He led you to his bedroom after he'd taken over cleaning the plates, turning on the lights as the two of you stepped inside. He took the jacket off your shoulders and tossed it onto a chair he had on the side, taking a couple seconds to stare at you in the dress. He went behind you, sliding the zipper off with such precision and his mouth went to your shoulder, kissing every bit of skin that had become available to him. "I'll keep you buried with my cock all the time so you don't have to leave me," he mumbled, finishing up with the task at hand.

You got down on your knees and started to stroke him with your hand, trying to get adjusted to the size of him again. You kissed on his thighs the way that he liked when you two were together, the small shudder that ran through his body being enough proof that he still enjoyed the same things. You slowly lowered your mouth onto his cock, giving some kitten licks to the tip since you knew that would get him even more worked up.

You slowly swirled your tongue around the mushroom tip, licking every drop of precum that had leaked out during your teasing. You took more of him in your mouth, hollowing your cheeks as you tried to adjust to the size. Your hand pumped the base, squeezing around it tightly as you worked it in tandem with your mouth. His hand came to the back of your head, guiding you down his length to the best of his ability until you felt the tip of his cock hit the back of your throat. Your nose rubbed against his happy trail and even though tears were starting to brim on your waterline from how deep he was, you couldn't help but feel a sense of pride at having taken him so well.

You brought your mouth down to his balls, sucking on them and swirling your tongue around them while your hand jerked him off. The precum that had leaked out from his tip served as a perfect lubricant, making the whole experience all the more pleasurable towards Miguel. You brought your mouth back to his cock, your mouth running down the underside and tracing one of the veins running along the side.

"Look at me," he ordered, though his voice came out more ragged than he would've liked. you looked up at him, your mascara had dripped down your cheeks and the red lipstick that you'd worn tonight was smudged around the corners but you still looked so angelic to him. He leaned his head back, like the sight before him was just too much to look at while his hand continued to guide your head.

"Tan hermosa que eres," he murmured, his whole body shuddering as he came closer to that peak. (you’re so beautiful) He finished in your mouth and you swallowed it down greedily, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand. He helped you stand up and carried you over to the bed, slotting himself right in between your legs. He hooked his pointer finger in your panties and slowly slid them down your legs, his gaze on your glistening cunt.

He brought your panties up to his face, taking in the scent of you. He put it to the side and looked over at you, kneeling between your legs. “I'm gonna keep those. Just in case you decide to run away again," he told you, pressing small kisses on your thighs. Your legs started to wiggle as he pressed featherlight kisses on them but his firm grip on your thighs restricted you from moving them any further. He bit down on the insides of your thighs, his canines piercing the skin slightly as his tongue lapped up the small drops of blood that dribbled down.

He started licking at your folds, taking his time to get adjusted to you and your taste again before he delved in. He thrust his tongue inside, his eyes closing from the sensation of having you under him once again. You brought your hands up to his hair, tugging gently on the black curls as he continued to tease your hole. He used his tongue to thrust in and out of you, his hands up on your breasts as he tugged and massaged the nipples. He used the tip of his nose to brush up against your clit, applying stimulation every so often.

His fingers came down to your cunt and he picked up the slick you'd released with his pointer and middle finger, bringing them up to your mouth. You took them instantly, your tongue swirling around his fingers as you tasted yourself, the result of what he'd made you feel in this time together. He slowly pushed one finger in, only reaching halfway before he filled up up. Your cunt squeezed tightly around his finger, coating him with a wave of fresh arousal as he began to thrust it in and out of you at a rapid pace.

His tongue came down on your clit, sucking and swirling his tongue around the nub the way that had your toes curling and your hands gripping his hair. You swiveled your hips against his face, your orgasm starting to bubble up inside of you. "Beg me to cum. Beg me the same way I used to beg for you to stay in Nueva York," he told you, only stopping his movements to hear you plead for that sweet release. "Please Miguel! I won't leave you again, please just let me cum! I've been good," you pleaded, tears starting to build up at the prospect of having your orgasm ripped away from you.

"Doesn't really sound like you wanna cum, muñequita. Beg like you mean it and I’ll consider it," he teased you, his eyes sparkling with newfound mischief. You wondered why he wanted you to beg so badly, when he used to be the one who'd beg to be inside of you, to taste you, and be the one that would be willing to fuck your panties just for a feeling of you. "Please, Miguel! I'll stay with you this time! Just let me cum, please! I’ll be good," you complied with his request nonetheless, your bottom lip wobbling as you did.

He let out a dark chuckle and went back to fingering you, his mouth attached to your clit instantly. He let out a couple moans as he thrust his lower half into the mattress, seeking out a form of relief for himself as well. Your nails dug into his scalp but he didn't seem to mind, in fact, he seemed to go faster the harder you pulled at his hair. You came with a moan of his name, falling back onto the bed as you tried to control your erratic breathing.

He placed your legs against your chest as he aligned his cock with your entrance, your previous orgasm providing him with the ease that he needed to slide in. It was still a struggle to take in the sheer girth and length of him, but the sting didn't feel too bad after a couple seconds. He let you adjust to his cock before starting off slow, the look on his face being a complete change from when he'd asked you to beg. It felt like he was trying to make love to you rather than fuck you, each thrust deep but slow like he wanted to make this moment last.

"Miguel, go faster please," you spoke up after a while, needing more of what he could give you. You appreciated his efforts of wanting to take things slow, but you wanted to be fucked with such intensity that your legs would be wobbly after. He sped up, his balls slapping against the globes of your ass with each thrust. He brought your legs down and attached his mouth to one of your nipples, sucking on it like he'd been starved of the taste of you. Your hands came up to his hair once more, pulling on the strands with each relentless thrust that he gave.

You enclosed your legs around his waist to pull him even closer to you, wanting to feel the warmth you'd been missing. He brought his hand to your clit, rubbing small circles on the nub as he angled his cock to hit your most sensitive spot. Your legs began to shake as you felt the coil inside of you tightening up, threatening to snap at any moment. Your orgasm washed over you quickly, coating his cock in your slick as his thrusts started to get sloppier and faster. You tightened your legs around his waist, restricting his access to pull out. His eyes widened and you were quick to reassure him, "I'm on birth control."

He came quickly after that, his cum filling your walls completely as his cock pushed in you. He pulled his cock, making sure that he wouldn't overstimulate you in the process. He cleaned you up with a wet cloth, using light pressure as he cleaned the cum leaking out. You took a couple seconds to let your vision go back to normal before you stood up, grabbing your discarded bra and red dress.

"Where are you going, chula?" He asked you, causing you to stop your movements. "I'm going home. I figured that this was just a one night stand," you responded, looking back at him as you held your clothes in hand. "So you're gonna leave me again after you said you wouldn't?" He inquired, his brow raising as he challenged you. "What do you want me to do here, Miguel? We're not exactly friends at the moment and we're not strangers," you responded and he walked over, holding your hands in his.

"Choose to stay with me. we'll figure out this whole thing in the morning when we're not clouded with sex," he offered and you let out a small sigh, looking up at his red eyes. He could act as indifferent as he wanted, but those eyes showed nothing less than the longing that had accumulated in the time you'd left. "Do you have anything I can borrow?" you asked him, setting your clothes on the chair that his coat was resting on. "Figured you could sleep in that red dress of yours, you looked magnificent in it," he suggested before he walked over to the closet to hand you one of his shirts.

He helped you take your makeup off, even taking his time with the mascara though he was growing more and more agitated. He ended up going to a pharmacy that was open 24/7 near his home to get you a cleanser and some other necessities, making sure that you were comfortable in your stay here. The two of you laid down in his bed, intertwined in his sheets as his hand rubbed small circles on your exposed thigh.

"Where does this leave us, Miguel?" You asked him after a while, wanting to get some answers. "I've never stopped loving you, y'know. I've been hoping for a while that you would just show up on the street and still want to be with me. So I guess what I'm trying to ask if you'd like to go out on a date with me. Get to know and love me again," he responded, his movements on your thigh stopping as he talked before picking back up again.

"I'd love that. For the record though, I never stopped loving you either."

817 notes · View notes

unauthorized-output · 2 months

Text

Vol. 3: The Subliminal Verses scans from the cd cover and insert

#slipknot #alternative rock #1990s #metal #2000s #90s music #cd collection #heavy metal #nu metal #joey jordison #mick thomson #jim root #paul gray #shawn crahan #sid wilson #subliminal verses #corey taylor

316 notes · View notes

jakeperalta · 16 days

Text

knew i was a ROBBER first time that he SAW ME stealinheartsandrunninoffandneversayin SORRY but if i'm a THIEF then he can join the HEIST and we'll move to an island and and he can be my JAILer burton to this TAYLor everyloveiveknownincomparisonisa FAILure i forget their NAMES now I'm so very TAME now never be the SAME now

#she really went off with this verse #taylor swift #lyric posting

188 notes · View notes

shinycollarboneapologist · 11 months

Text

gorgeous

ficlet to the taylor!verse, based on THIS request. or the day matty and reader met :D

content: no p in v sex but still kind of smutty, HEAVY PETTING, tw: one direction mention, reader was in a disney channel tv show

“aren’t you from one direction?” it comes out before your inebriated brain can stop the neural impulse from floating to your lips. he stares at you, blankly, blinking only after he realizes you’re probably not joking.

the club is loud, he almost feels as if he’s misheard you. and it had been over an hour before he was able to actually catch your eye. he had been trying since he got here, wanting to be pulled under your ephemeral gaze. each time he thought you were going to finally give him the time of day, you would only pull your eyes away and fall back into a steady conversation with whomever was in front of you. matty normally never had to fight for attention, usually people would flock to him and tell him how good his music was, how intelligent he was. yet, here he was having to fight tooth and nail for you to even look at him.

now that he’s got your attention, undivided and slightly unnerving, he doesn’t want to let it go.

“fuck you’re mean,” he exhales, shaking his head.

and you laugh, head rolling back as you bring your voice down an octave, darkening the timbre of your words as you mock him.

“i do not sound like that.” the foreboding crinkle in his forehead and frown on his lips is lessened by the sparkle in his eyes.

“yeah, you do, actually,” you’re unrelenting in your teasing, hand coming up to touch his forearm, “but it’s okay.”

he scoffs, yet he’s unable to ignore the radiating feeling of sparks going up his arm as your hand touches his skin. he glances down at your manicured fingers, throat feeling tight as his mind drifts to a filthy place far away from the club and even farther away from where he wants to be with you. he downs the rest of his drink, imagining its you on his lips, and returns his gaze to your bright eyes.

“you know, i’ve actually been trying to talk to you all night,” he confesses.

“have you?” you ponder, tilting an eyebrow up.

he nods, cheeks flushing as he smiles bashfully like a child caught stealing a bite of dessert before dinner, “yeah. i have, actually.”

you’d be lying if you said you didn’t notice his stare from across the room. his eyes had been locked on you since you entered, drawn to your magnetic demeanor in the darkened haze of the club. taylor had mentioned that she invited someone she wanted you to meet and by the looks of her watching the two of you interact from the corner of the room, her wish was coming true.

“could tell actually, you’ve been staring at me all night,” conversing with him is playful, light, easy. you offer him your hand and your name. he gladly takes it, enjoying the way your soft skin feels against his.

“i know, s’kinda embarrassing but your poster is on my wall back home.” he’s gleaming down at you, twinkle in his eye, “i’m matty.”

“matty,” you repeat, returning his smile with one of your own. your hand lingers in his for a little longer than expected, and there’s a slight desire for you to tangle your fingers with his. you shake off the feeling though, letting your hands fall apart naturally. he eyes you, quirking his head to the side.

“can i get you a drink?”

you oblige happily.

one drink turns into two. which then leads to three and before you know it you’re giggling on a bar stool with matty standing in front of you. he’s radiant in the lights, thick lashes casting shadows on his cheeks, smile full and bright. his lips, pink and plush, are curled around his teeth. you’re well aware that you’re entranced by him, eyes loitering on his face for a little longer than acceptable. you can’t help it though, and also can’t help the way you lean forward and take his hand.

“you’re gorgeous,” your words tumble from your lips before you can think of the repurcussions.

he stops in his tracks, standing up a little straighter. you think you’ve fucked it royally, immediately your eyes widen and your jaw pops open and shut as you try to think of a way to remedy it all.

“me? darling, what about you? should see yourself.” there’s a hint of blush creeping up the skin of his neck. it matches the pigment of your nails and you’re reminding yourself to always pick that color to remember it by.

you wave him off, but his hand encapsulates your wrist before you can finish the movement.

“i mean it, truly.” his lips, soft as silk, press to your heated skin. they’re warm, wet from way he kept licking over them before, and you’re warding off thoughts of the way they would feel elsewhere. you shift, thighs clenching. you hope he doesn’t notice.

matty leans closer to you. his movements are slow, like water running over oil, and he’s perching himself up with one hand on the bar and the other on the barstool. his breath, tainted with the taste of the whiskey he was sipping, fans over your face as he exhales.

thankful for the darkened aura of the club, you reach up and cup his cheeks in your hands, eyes searching his for any semblance of dismissal. there is none. and so you rally forward, leaning up to press your lips to his own. his lips are softer than you imagined, tasting of the remnants of his drink and the coolness of the ice cubes that once floated around. he lets you take the lead, hands settling onto your waist as you go to pull him impossibly closer. your body melts into him, arms slowly drifting to loop around his neck.

in the hustle and bustle of the club, you feel still. everything seems to cease around you. he pulls back slowly, running his tongue over his bottom lip.

“you wanna get out of here?”

it’s a statement more than it is a question. the words are suggestive, hanging in the air like cobwebs. you watch as his eyes widen, similar to your actions prior. was he over thinking? did he over step? his tongue pokes out from between his lips again, licking over the skin. you want to do that.

“what? you’re not going to wine and dine me first?” you counter, but you’re already slipping off of the bar stool and linking an arm in his.

he laughs, shaking his head, “i bought you a few drinks, didn’t i?”

matty lets you lead him out the back door. his hand is attached to your waist, guiding you as you make a bee-line for the car parked waiting for you both. he opens the door for you before your driver could even make his way around the car.

you slip in, matty follows, and you situate yourself on the leather seats. he’s squeezing in next to you, a hand placed gently on your exposed thigh. your skin heats up as if its aflame, each stroke of his thumb makes you have to compress the thoughts that are infiltrating your brain. you want him, badly. and you have a funny feeling that he knows it.

you’re both stumbling up to the door of the apartment, his hand seeking purchase on your waist once more. once the door is unlocked, you offer him a soft smile, “i apologize for the clutter. s’just been awhile since i’ve been home.”

the door is pushed open and you lead him inside, letting him enter as you shut the door behind the both of you. there’s a gasp. and you’re thinking that maybe you read it all wrong. maybe he didn’t want to come inside. maybe-

“dude, no fucking way. you’ve got the original film poster for pulp fiction? signed too? that’s so sick.”

you let out a listless laugh, hand resting on your chest, “it was a gift. from an ex.” your face scrunches up at the last revelation, shaking your head as his eyes somberly look at you, “s’fine though. his last movie bombed in the box office, so i guess we all get our karma somehow, right?”

he nods but immediately turns back to the poster, still in awe.

matty had heard all about the break up, knew exactly which ex you were referencing also. an older guy, one that made everyone turn up their noses and call you some god awful things on the internet. he knew the breakup was rough, too, it had come up in conversations between he and taylor before. he didn’t want to pry, though, so he just faked enthusiasm in the poster for as long as he could.

“you want anything? a drink? water? a snack?” you call from the kitchen. matty’s not done with his snooping yet, eyes dragging all over the large living room. there’s shoes astray, polaroid pictures littering dark forest green walls, a colorful rug, a sweatshirt haphazardly thrown on the couch, and lots of plants. it feels lived in and normal. for being one of the top actresses in the world, rolling stone said this not him, you’re normal.

“i’ll take some water, please.”

he hears your hum of approval and the sound of you shuffling around in the kitchen. when you reappear, he notes that the heels on your feet were swapped for a very endearing pair of slippers. they’re pink, fuzzy and the bunnies have long ears that drag on the floor when you walk. matty can’t help but smile. his cheeks hurt so badly from the action, yet he hardly notices. you’re extending the glass of water out to him, perching yourself on the bar table that separates the kitchen from the living area.

“thank you,” he nods his head at you and takes a long sip, eyes locked on you as he does. he watches as you squirm under his unrelenting gaze and his stomach flutters.

you show him around, pointing out all of the pictures on the wall of family and friends. and he notices how those same walls are littered with the countless awards you’ve won, yet you don’t acknowledge them. he’s been in the presence of many a large celebrity before and those are usually the first things they point out. but you’re different. a cool sip of water in the heated tinsel town he’s come to be apart of.

“what’s this picture?” he nods his head to a polaroid dated only a year or so prior. it’s blurry, darkened but he can make out the shape of your lips in the corner and a familiar head of blonde hair.

you groan, a flush creeping up your neck and to your cheeks. “my twenty-first. went to vegas with taylor and a couple of our friends and woke up in LA. don’t think i can ever look at vodka the same way again. it was not my best moment, i’ll tell you that.”

he laughs, a true belly laugh and bends backwards as you confess.

“how did you end up in LA?” he asks, finally able to gain his composure.

“you’re asking me as if i know! taylor says i paid off a pilot in a bar or something, which sounds a little too on brand if you ask me,” you muse, “but i got to see the sunrise from behind the hollywood sign, so that was nice.”

matty revels in the way you recall the memories. your eyes are gleaming, and in the darkened light of the hallway he can tell that you’re radiant, sheer beauty putting all of the stars he’s seen to shame.

you approach the doorway to your room and there’s a bit of apprehension as you turn over your shoulder to look at the curly-haired man behind you. he nearly falls into you as you stop short, his chest bumping into your shoulder. you pause. and swallow thickly, can feel his heart rapping against his chest. the vibrations reverberate through your body. it isn’t long until his eyes wander down to your lips again.

“can i kiss you again?” he exhales.

you nod quickly and before you can even open your mouth to say anything, his lips seek solace on yours. you sigh out, twisting in his grasp to assume more leverage. his hands trace over your body, grasping at your hips to pull you closer. your lips move in tandem with one another, soft sighs and hums of content echoing into each other. one of your arms wraps loosely around his neck while the other reaches down to find the doorknob. he nips at your lip, and you melt in his arms with a baited whine. you feel his lips curl up into a smirk against yours when you finally reach the door knob and twist it.

the both of you nearly fall into your room, but he’s got your waist in his hands to steady you against him. its only a few paces from the doorway to the bed. skillfully, he’s backing you up. his lips move feverishly against your own, parting only as your knees buckle and you fall onto the bed with the weight of his body collapsing ontop of you.

“hey there,” you hum, moving your lips from his to slowly kiss your way down his exposed neck. his soft sighs ricochet through the heated air and you watch as goosebumps prickle up the skin of his arms.

“feels nice,” he murmurs, tilting his neck up. you get better leverage then, using this to your advantage as you curl your lips to suck a deep purple mark at the base of his neck. matty moans. and you swear to yourself that its the prettiest sound you’ve heard all night, maybe even your whole life. his hands travel from your waist, up towards your concealed chest.

“can i take this off?” he’s tugging at the hem of your shirt. you nod quickly.

matty wastes no time in ridding you of the shirt and makes quick work of the bra that’s keeping you from him.

“fucking hell,” he all but whines, leaning down to press his lips to your heated skin. his lips do anything but ease the heat erupting underneath your skin, instead they illicit more heat in their wake. “you’re fucking gorgeous.”

a large palm cups at the mound of one of your breasts while his mouth leaves heated kisses along the other. his tongue jets out, flicking at the tender budded skin of your nipple before he envelopes the sensitive bud into his mouth. a gasp falls from your lips. he’s toying with it between his teeth, sucking it around. your hips buck up and into him.

he alternates between the two, loving the way you writhe and buck against him. there’s a fire burning deep within you, the totality of it all being blissfully ignored between your legs.

“need more,” you sigh out. matty peers up at you. he’s moved on to kissing down your stomach and shuffling your pants down your legs. a wry smile tugs at his cheeks.

“patience is a virtue.”

“do you want me to beg for it?”

the thought of you on your knees and begging for him has his cock jumping in his pants. he blinks a few times, “while the offer may be nice, the sight of you on your knees might make me cum in my pants.”

a breathy laugh falls from your lips, reaching down to run a hand through his hair.

“meant it when i said you were gorgeous,” your thumb traces down the center of his face, pulling at his bottom lip. his eyes are wide and doe-like. he captures your digit in his mouth, nipping at the tender pad. its enough to make you shudder. his lips are puffy and swollen, reminiscent of all of the kissing and biting and longing. a pink flush rises from his neck, similar in color to the shade of his lips. it only exacerbates your point.

“you gonna let me have a taste?” he asks, his breath fanning out over your clothed core.

"please,” you hum through a baited breath.

he groans in response, tapping the side of your thigh whilst removing the soaked lace from your skin. matty spreads you open between his fingers, dipping his finger into the sticky honey pouring out from you. he pops the digit into his mouth, eyes rolling back. “taste so good. wanna taste you directly from this pretty little cunt though.”

you barely have a second to reply in anything but a moan as he loops his arms under the bend of your knees, mouth latching onto your cunt almost immediately. he’s insatiably sucking and licking and nipping. you wail out as his teeth run over your senisitve (and up until this point ignored) clit. he flicks his tongue over the bud soothingly, lips curling around to suck on it. the fact that there’s no rhythm almost gives it a rhythm. you buck your hips up against his mouth, wanting more, craving more. he’s devouring you like a man starved and you’re happy to be his last meal.

“feels so good,” you sigh out through a combination of a choked sob and a moan. matty smirks against you, bringing a finger up and slipping it in. he crooks it up, finding the spot inside of you almost immediately. you have half a mind to ask him where he found out about it. you had heard stories from friends of friends through the grapevine, but nothing prepared you for anything quite like this.

“gonna let me fuck you?” he pulls back slowly, quirking an eyebrow up at you. his lips shine in your juices, pupils blown out and hair wild from the fingers you’ve been raking through it. matty’s finger relentlessly works in and out of you and he’s adding a second before you can even reply.

“yeah. want you to fuck me,” you moan. his thumb connects to your clit and he continues to work into you, his fingers rubbing over the spongy spot over and over. your eyes roll back into your head, letting the shockwaves of pleasure radiate through your body.

matty’s reaching for his wallet with his unoccupied hand. his incesscant rhythm has slowed down, leaving you without much relief. he leans over your sweaty writhing body upon getting his wallet, to press a kiss to your lips. its messy. and he tastes like you- heady and sweet. you buck into his fingers, slowly beginning to fuck yourself against them. his jaw goes slack and he pulls back to watch the scene below him. he’s distracted by you, entranced in the way you push and pull yourself on his fingers, thoughts clouding by the way this exact scene would play out with you on his cock (which twitches in the constraints of his pants).

you’re moaning out for him, eyes locking on his own as you feel your release begin to creep up on you. its slow and impending, all you need is a little push-

“fuck!”

his expelative jossels you from your impending high. you blink a few times and stop the movement on his fingers, chest rising and falling.

“w-what’s wrong?” you exhale heavily, worry crossing your face.

you’re half expecting you to tell him that he’s got a girlfriend or he’s changed his mind or you’re not exactly what he wanted or he’s got to go.

“i don’t have a fucking condom. could’ve swore i put one in here.” the look on his face is almost laughable. matty’s gone pale, despite the heat induced flush on his chest, and his eyes are locked on the empty pocket of his wallet.

you let out a giggle that has his eyes snapping back to yours, “i have one. let me just..” you blush a bit as you dismount his fingers, rolling over to open the night stand next to your head. there, tucked in the corner is a box of condoms. you silently cheer and drag it towards you. you don’t remember it feeling this light when you bought it. maybe you went through more than you-

“fuck!” the box is empty when you turn it upside down on the bed.

matty is exasperated, looks as if he’s about to cry and you’re sure you don’t look much better.

you flop back onto the bed dejectedly covering your eyes and letting out a loud groan. “this is-”

“i know.”

“i can’t believe.”

“i know.”

the bed dips in next to you and he brings a hand up to cup your cheek, “we can make it work though? quite liked the way you felt on my fingers and that little scene you made fucking yourself on them? nearly came in my pants.” he leans down and presses a soft kiss to your cheeks, “so why don’t we have our fun now. and tomorrow morning, i’ll go out get us a nice new box that we can tear through?”

“who says i’m letting you sleep over?”

he cocks his head to the side, “i’d like to see you try and kick me out of your bed when i’m done with you.” he begins his descent down your body once more.

“that’s a promise.”

#this is me trying to make it better #i love u all #smooches #taylor!verse #✏️ - matty.#matty healy x reader #matty healy smut

199 notes · View notes