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#same goes for silent films
happyheidi · 2 years
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Alice in wonderland (1903)
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yzzart · 5 months
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Love your Tom blyth fics an unhealthy amount!!! I’m picturing reader and Tom being all lovey dovey at the premiers but playing it off as really good bestfriends UNTIL she goes to kiss him on the cheek and in instinct he turns his head to kiss her on the lips so they just say fuck it and hard launch there and then x
"An unplanned situation."
pairing: tom blyth x actress!reader
summary: a small gesture, with a sweet intention, revealed a promising secret.
word count: 1.359!
notes: i started this request in the morning and only had the opportunity to finish it a few minutes ago, forgive me for that, anon! — i hope you like it and of course, feel free to share ideas with me!
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"Y/N, look here!"
Another request, among others, screams and countless flashes, was directed to you; being, theoretically, almost impossible to identify who had demanded your image. — There were so many voices mixing, not to mention the music in the background, but, you tried your best to pay attention to most of the cameras.
However, it wasn't anything you weren't used to; something that has already been normalized in your life.— And during the premiere of The ballad of songbirds and snake it was no different, and it was splendid; simply perfect. — Not to mention, the feeling of gratitude that grew in your chest.
Cameras and cell phones captured your every movement, your poses and the way your perfectly chosen dress was valued and highlighted on your body. — And how it matched the color palette of the film. — Everything was being recorded, at the exact moment, posted and commented on all social networks.
You had the opportunity to meet, talk and take photos with some of the cast. — It was so pleasant, the company and unity that everyone developed during the filming of the film was inexplicable and so adorable; you were grateful to have worked with so many talented people. — There were some people who were absent, until now, in your eyes, but you would definitely meet them again on the carpet.
And, of course, your eyes roamed the decorated room, matching the elements of the film, and crowded in search of a specific person. — It wasn't exaggerated words to say that you were starting to feel uncomfortable because he was missed; and the cameras recorded it. — Silent questions, which would be written, formed in the minds of the presenters and photographers.
Your boyfriend had yet to appear on the red carpet; perhaps he is giving a quick and curious interview or greeting someone. — That's what was going on in your head.
You and Tom had a secret relationship, ever since you met behind the scenes, in front of the world and all the cameras that may exist in it; something that was so risky and at the same time adventurous. — And that, as incredible as it might seem, you knew how to disguise it in front of your fans; even though they gradually became suspicious with comments, interactions and behind-the-scenes photos.
They were either smart or you and Tom were too far over the line. — This question was not important or essential for the moment. — And you considered each other best friends for interviews or responses to comments; you tried your best.
And so, Rachel sent countless screenshots of tweets, which talked about or mentioned the relationship between you and Tom, to you. — It's impossible to deny how funny it was.
Persisting in continuing to look for him and for a few seconds, your eyes meet his blue and so charming irises. — Its shade of blue was a magnificent and beautiful combination; something you would never get tired of admiring. —And there was no other thing, or anyone, that could take his eyes off you.
As if the only thing that mattered at that moment was you. — And everything around him simply disappeared.
"There you are!" — Tom walked towards you, easily as there weren't so many people on the carpet, and an enthusiastic smile forming on his lips; also accompanied by cameras and intense flashes. — "And so beautiful!"
Holding a part of your long and dazzling dress so as not to hinder your steps, you met him, and without wasting any time, hugged him. — A common gesture, and not so different or strange, for the spectators; so, you thought. — Tom's arms went around your waist, holding your protectively for a little while, while your arms positioned themselves around his neck.
Tom's fragrance, which you liked so much, filled your nose; it felt so good, and you felt your eyes weaken, contaminated by it. — And the british man was aware of that.
"You look perfect, always." — The older man distanced himself, just a little, and brought his face closer to your ear, wanting only you to hear. — "The most beautiful woman that has ever crossed my eyes." — The lenses probably captured a reddish pigmentation on your cheeks and it was not part of your makeup.
You placed one of your hands on his chest, and looking directly into his eyes; that shone at you, and it wasn't just because of the influence of the lights in your direction. — Tom's gaze was sincere, and passionate, intensely fascinating you. — He conveyed what he felt most with just his eyes.
And that was one of the facts about him that you were passionate about and recognized very well.
"Oh, shut up!" — Raising your hand and resting it a little away from your mouth, you laughed a little embarrassed and looked back at the cameras; remembering that they remained there and you knew that later you would see your interaction with Tom on some social media.
Again, a thing and situation you were used to.
"Look at that camera!" — A voice mingled among others, which requested the same request, asking you to take some photos together; something that would feed news, fans and press.
At no point, minute or second, did you and Tom remain distant or apart from each other; always a few steps close, hugging each other for photos and certain looks, completely indiscreet. — Even during brief interviews, as Blyth mentioned you or your character's work, you were silently watching. — One of the interviewers even commented on how cute she thought it was.
Tom's hand was on your waist, holding and almost covering you, making a quick caress in a few seconds and one of your hands was still resting on his chest; and you continued, of course, to be the focus of the cameras.
Quickly, with the intention of changing your pose and trying something new and also to take advantage of the fact that Blyth's face was almost close to yours, you decide to place your pigmented lips on his cheeks. — Such a cute and friendly gesture, and so common. —But, automatically and hastily, Tom turned his face away at the same time, without having in mind what you were, in fact, planning. — God, it was a shock; an absurd and completely intense shock.
For the first time that night, in that place and on those cameras, your lips touched Tom's lips. — It was very quick, good and surprising; and that definitely left a cold, freezing air in your belly accompanied by a desperate feeling in your mind. — Rumor has it that smoke was coming out of his head. — It was a peck, a quick and simple kiss.
When you separated, hurriedly, your eyes met Tom's once again; who were a little wide-eyed, expressing surprise. — Looking for something to say or do, just like you. — And you watched his lips curve into an almost smile, as if he was trapping him.
Shouts of enthusiasm and some possible whistles echoed throughout the immense place, along with some looks and expressions of surprise at what had happened. — And some people were worried if they had recorded the exact moment, of course. — Your fans were probably commenting frantically about what happened.
You really didn't know what to do but at no point did you move away from your boyfriend — now, official to the public — and keep your hand on his chest; as if it were, in fact, planned.
"A nice way to reveal it, huh?" — Tom laughed, relaxed and without a feeling of discomfort or uneasiness, he still had his hand on your waist; and he still squeezed you, then leaving you with another caress. — "I think." — He didn't look at the cameras, his orbits focused only on you.
They have always focused on you, regardless of what is actually happening; and that will never change.
"A nice way to reveal." — You repeated your words, but, as an affirmation and certainty; maybe, seeing how relieved Tom was, and not showing some kind of distress, your chest calmed down and you felt safe.
And soon, you and Tom became one of the most talked about topics on social media.
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luveline · 8 months
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I would love to do a request if you would like! Some sort of Spencer Reid x Reader where the reader is super bad ass, tough, doesn’t show much emotion is kind of cold to others but has the biggest soft spot for Spencer!! 🫶🏻
thanks for your request lovey, I would love to write more of this pairing if you have any more requests ♡ fem!reader
"Here comes the ice queen," Morgan mutters, turning his chair away from the walkway. 
You walk down the steps from Hotch's office. Whether you were praised or reprimanded is anybody's guess —your face never gives anything away. Spencer doesn't necessarily agree with the way Morgan's categorised you, but he isn't wrong either. You're like Hotch in temperament, if Hotch were soft on only Spencer. 
That might have something to do with why Spencer won't call you cold. You're never cold with him. 
"What did boss man want?" Morgan asks. 
"If it were your business, Morgan, I'm sure you'd already know." You don't say it spitefully, but it's far from a warm answer.
Spencer honestly asks just to piss Morgan off, "Everything okay?" 
You visibly soften. Walking past Morgan without notice, you pause by Spencer's desk, your voice quieter, gentler. "Don't worry, Spence, everything's fine. You still reading that book about sex crimes in Arizona?" 
"I finished it. Doesn't take long." 
"No, you're fast," you agree. "What are you gonna read next?" 
It's amazing how swiftly you shift gears. Your body language totally changes, your shoulders slouching toward him, your hand open and resting on the back of his chair as if you might touch his hair. Morgan shoots Reid a look that says, What is happening right now?
"I was thinking about reading up on the Milk Killer, from 1954. He tried to give his victims blood transfusions high in lactose in an attempt to cure intolerance." 
Even Spencer admits that that sounds boring, but your face lights up with genuine interest. "That could be good. You'll have to tell me how it goes." 
"Sure." Spencer squints at you. "You have something on your face." 
"Yeah?" you ask, and Morgan goes wild behind you, dipping back in his chair in disbelief at your breathless tone. "What is it? Can you get it for me?" 
You bend a little and Spencer wipes the lint from your face sweetly. He wonders if he should be blushing, your affection for him as clear as it is, but for once, Spencer Reid feels smug. He can melt someone that Morgan can't. "All gone," he says. Smugness aside, you're a friend (and maybe a little more than that).
"Thanks, Spence," you say, popping a kiss against his cheek. "You saved me from embarrassing myself." 
Morgan clears his throat. You barely move, your hands twisting behind your back. "Hey, lovergirl," he says, making himself heard. 
"What, Morgan?" you ask, finally looking away from Spencer's pinking cheeks. 
"You have something," he says, pointing at the corner of his mouth. 
"So?" you ask indifferently. You turn back to Spencer as though nothing occurred. "Do you want to go to the movies again this weekend? They're playing a silent film. I think you'll like it." 
Spencer smiles genuinely. It's not his main concern, but it's definitely an added bonus to hear Morgan's sighed, "Are you kidding?" as he nods vehemently. 
"I'd love to," Spencer says. 
"Okay. It's a date," you say, smiling at him so nicely it feels like he can't breathe. 
"What's a date?" Emily asks as she returns from the kitchenette, eyebrows jumping. 
"It's a marker used to denote the day or month within a year," you say primly. "I have to go make copies for Hotch." 
You don't say goodbye. Morgan likes you, really, in the same way you like Morgan, so he gives Spencer a dazed look followed by a small smile. "Good luck with that." 
Spencer looks over his shoulder to follow your figure as you carry a box of reports to the photocopier. "I don't think I need luck," he murmurs. You glare at the copier, clicking one of its buttons aggressively. "She's nicer than you guys think." 
"Sure."
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urfavstargirl1 · 1 year
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teach me - e.m. x fem!reader blurb
Summary: best friend!Eddie teaches inexperienced!reader how to kiss… among other things
a/n: i know this prompt has been written to exhaustion but I wanted to try putting my own little spin on it and use it as a warm up piece since I haven’t written in weeks
Cw: 18+, minors dni, kissing, making out, handjob, Eddie and reader are best friends, cuddling in the trailer, if st4 never happened
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It was movie night at Eddie’s place. You always went over to the trailer on Friday’s. Eddie’s uncle, Wayne, was usually out at work, and you and Eddie never did anything more than order a pizza and check out a movie or two from Family Video.
Tonight’s movie was Pretty in Pink. Your choice, for obvious reasons, but you had to absolutely beg Eddie to watch it. You compromised by letting him choose the second movie for the night, which of course had to be a horror film.
You started the night with your movie. And once the pizza and snacks were eaten, you and Eddie had gone to lay down on the couch. You were on top of him, with your head on his chest and legs between his. You could feel the soft hum in his chest and the warmth of his body against yours.
He would absent-mindedly play with your hair or run his fingers along your back as you watched yet another Molly Ringwald movie, slowly adding itself to your collection of favorite movies.
You would make little comments here and there, like you usually do, and halfway through the movie, even Eddie had started getting into it.
“Nah babe, she should’ve ended up with Duckie,” he passionately exclaims at the scene where Andie arrives at the school dance and leaves Duckie for Blane. “And what kind of name even is Blane? It’s like, do you want your kid to be a dickhead?”
You laugh at his comment, silently agreeing.
You were sort of in a similar predicament to Andie. Well, except for the part where a popular boy takes an interest in you. But in a way, Eddie is like your Duckie. You’ve been friends for as long as you can remember and were always thick as thieves. Eddie knew you inside and out and you knew him better than anyone else.
In fact, there’s no one you can think of who could possibly take his place. There’s no one else you’d rather have movie nights or joy rides around town with than Eddie.
For some time, you’d been harboring a crush on Eddie, but you knew he couldn’t possibly feel the same way. He was your best friend, and his friendship meant way too much to you. You weren’t sure if your feelings for him would be worth the risk of losing him.
And for the time being, most of your friends already treated you like a couple, so you could at least pretend.
You continue to watch as the movie nears its end. You drag your fingertips along the fabric covering Eddie’s chest and watch as Andie goes outside and sees Blane. The shot transitions to a close up of Andie and Blane facing each other. And for a moment, they just look at each other, before moving close and just kissing each other. Their lips move swiftly and mouths connect like pieces of a puzzle. It’s hot. It’s passionate. It’s eager. You’ve never seen anything like it.
A sharp gasp escapes your lips and you tense up. Eddie feels you and turns his head toward you.
“Hey, you okay?”
You move your head from its comfortable place on his chest and look up at him, your faces inches apart.
You interlace your fingers together on the middle of his chest and prop yourself up a bit. You nod.
“You sure?” He asks, eyes cast down at you.
“Yeah,” you reply nervously. You turn your head to look back at the screen and engulf the view before you. Andie and Blane have their arms tightly wrapped around each other, like they want to be as close to each other as humanly possible. And the way they kiss is just… like they hunger for the other. Like they’re in a desert and the other person’s lips are the only source of water for miles.
“It’s just, I’ve never seen anyone kiss like that.” You furrow your brows and cock your head to the side. The vision of such a passionate kiss stirs something deep inside you that you had no idea existed until now.
Eddie lets out a breathy laugh, “You mean, a french kiss?”
You look back at him and into his eyes before timidly looking away. The credits begin to roll and you move from your place atop him to sit on the other side of the couch.
“Yeah, but like, a really… I don’t know… Aggressive one. Usually in the movies it’s like a soft kiss that only lasts for a moment or two. But that? That was like…,” you breathily explain, not even sure how to articulate what you just saw or how it made you feel.
Eddie looks at you in amused confusion. He sits up and leans forward to comfortingly run his hand along your calf.
“Do people really kiss like that?”
Eddie shrugs and nods, “Yeah, sometimes.”
Your eyes widen and your eyebrows shoot up.
Eddie chuckles, “There’s a lot of different ways to kiss, sweetheart.”
“Oh,” you gasp and look away, lost in thought.
“You’ve never been kissed like that?” Eddie asks curiously.
Now, being best friends with Eddie means he knows a lot about you, even the fact that your experience with kissing and touching is, well… minimal to say the least. And if it weren’t for Eddie’s relaxed and supportive demeanor, you probably never would have told anyone else.
“Eddie, I mean, if something like that happened to me, I’m pretty sure I’d tell you.”
Eddie’s eyebrows furrow at the thought. The vision of you kissing another boy that wasn’t him like that almost makes him sick.
“What about that kid Kenny from summer camp? Didn’t you say you guys kissed?”
You make the noise of a scoff that turns into a laugh, “Yeah, but Eddie, c’mon, that was middle school. When middle schoolers kiss, it’s just a peck on the lips, if that.”
Eddie nods and looks away for a moment. You can see the gears turning in his head, but have no idea what he might say next.
“So that’s the most you’ve ever been kissed? Just a peck?” He asks in an inquisitive tone. Like he’s not asking to make fun of her, but to get a better picture in his mind of the extent of her physical experience.
“Um, yeah I guess. When you put it like that,” you reply, shyness slowly taking over.
Sex and anything physical wasn’t exactly off limits for you and Eddie. If anything, he was probably the only person you ever felt comfortable talking about this kind of stuff with. But it was all… a bit theoretical. At least for you.
Eddie was objectively much more experienced than you. He’s even told you stories of the things he’d done. When you were younger, it was interesting to hear because you knew so little. It was like Eddie was your teacher, transmitting whatever knowledge he learned through his experience to you.
But as you got older and he continued to have these experiences while you didn’t, it began to feel intimidating to think of just how much more experienced he was than you. Especially now.
Surprisingly, you’d never really thought of doing any of those things with Eddie. For some reason, he always felt off limits in that way. There were a few times where you caught yourself thinking of what it would be like to kiss him and it always made your chest feel warm. But you could never bring yourself to think of doing anything with him past that. It just felt too invasive or intense.
And besides, it’s not like he would ever think of you that way, right?
“Well, do you want to know what it feels like?” He looks at you.
“Huh,” you ask, shaking away the thoughts you just had.
“Do you want to know what it feels like,” he repeats, briefly looking over at the tv and back to you.
You cock your head to the side. “You mean, french kissing? Like that?”
Eddie nods.
“Um, yeah, I guess so. It looks like it would feel nice, but, you know, it’s probably gonna be a while till I actually do.”
Eddie cocks a brow up.
“Because I’m not dating anyone. And there’s not exactly a whole line of suitors waiting down the block just to–”
“Alright, I’m gonna stop you there princess,” Eddie laughs as he waves his hand. He shakes his head and scoots closer to your place on the couch. “What I meant was, if you want to know what that sort of kiss feels like, you can always try it with me.”
You jerk your head back slightly and widen your eyes, “What?”
“It could be like practice.”
You gasp and look between his eyes. There’s no way Eddie just said that. Your lips are slightly ajar, ready to give some sort of sarcastic response you always give, but you come up with nothing.
“Are you… You’re serious?”
Eddie softly smiles, the kind that makes your insides turn to goo. He nods, “It’s ok, babe. I don’t mind showing you the ropes.”
You gasp and roll your eyes but then they accidentally roll to the back of your head.
“If you want to. It’s up to you, sweetheart.”
You blink rapidly, trying to wrap your mind around the offer he’s just thrown on the table, quite haphazardly you might add.
“Would you really do that Eddie,” you ask incredulously.
“Sure, why not?”
“Eddie, you're being way too cavalier about this,” You nervously chuckle.
Eddie furrows his brows in confusion.
“This-This is a big ask Eddie. I have no idea how you’re being so casual about this.”
Eddie shrugs, “You’re my best friend. I would do it for you.”
Eddie wants to kiss you as a friend? Because he cares about you as a friend? This just isn’t making sense.
“Why?”
“I know you’ve been waiting for a while. Probably for that special someone, right? I know I’m not exactly him, but I think I’m pretty damn close.”
Oh Eddie, you have no idea.
“Besides, as your best friend, I think it’s my responsibility to make sure you’re prepared for when he does come along.”
You roll your eyes at his audacious attitude. “That’s not exactly your responsibility Eddie.”
He shrugs, “Still, if you let me, I think I could be a pretty good teacher.”
“Eddie, I’ve let you teach me how to play guitar or dungeons and dragons, but this? I’m just…”
“It’s okay if you don’t want to, sweetheart. I just wanted to put it out there, in case you did.”
“No!” You exclaim, surprising yourself and Eddie. “I-I’m just… I-I kind of would want to but-but I don’t know. I just wasn’t expecting this. I wasn’t expecting any of this to happen tonight. And I definitely wasn’t expecting to have my first real kiss with someone like this.”
Eddie moves closer and cups your cheek with his hand.
“Hey,” he whispers. You peer into his hypnotizing eyes, shallowly breathing before him. “If you let me, I promise to take such good care of you.”
You maintain your gaze as your breathing becomes even more shallow. Slow baited breaths fall from your lips. You blink rapidly and place a hand over his.
“Really,” you ask in a squeaky voice.
Eddie nods and briefly looks down at your lips. He looks back up into your eyes and whispers in a deep voice, “Can show you a couple tricks while I’m at it.”
He winks and your eyes widen. “Does that sound good?”
You’re rendered speechless, but have enough functioning brain cells to nod.
“Before we get started, I want to try something.”
You furrow your eyebrows in confusion, “Okay?”
“French kissing is more than just pressing your lips to someone else’s, babe. So I think you should know how to move your lips and how to use the other parts of your mouth before we do anything.”
“What?” you gasp, trying to wrap your mind around what Eddie’s saying.
“I’m gonna show you a trick. This is how I used to practice on my own. Then you start practicing with another person, but it helps to have an idea of what you’re doing before the kiss has even started.”
“Oh,” you nod in confusion.
“So what you’re gonna do is take your index finger. Now move it horizontally and bring it close to your lips,” Eddie instructs and you do as he says.
“Part your lips a bit, just enough so that your finger fits between them. Yeah like that,” he says.
You cast your gaze down, slightly uncomfortable looking Eddie in the eyes.
“Now, relax. Make sure your lips are soft. Don’t want them to be tense.”
You furrow your eyebrows in confusion and widen your lips a bit, gauging for how tense or relaxed they are, before softening them and keeping them wide enough for your finger to fit.
“Now, it’s gonna sound weird, but just kiss your finger. You’re gonna want to start so that your lips fit around your finger, then you slowly want to close them till they’re shut. I’ll show you.”
Eddie takes his own index finger between his lips and looks you in the eye as he imitates the gestures. Your throat grows dry at the sight.
“Now, you try.”
You look down at your finger and blink. You close your eyes and bring it closer to your lips. You brush your lips over your finger till they touch and you seal the touch with a kiss, lightly making a small smack sound.
You gasp at the noise and the sensation, fluttering your eyelids open.
“Perfect. That was great.” Eddie excitedly says. You look up at him and shyly smile.
“Now try doing it again a few more times.”
“A few more times? Eddie! When are we gonna…” You cut yourself off. Realizing how eager you sound.
Eddie smirks and laughs. “Patience, babe. I promise, this stuff really helps.”
“Okay, I guess.” You shrug and practice kissing your finger a few times.
“Does it feel okay?”
You shrug, “Yeah, feels fine.”
“Okay, now I want you to try again, but this time, try adding your tongue.”
“My tongue?”
“Yes, babe, your tongue,” he chuckles.
You blink in confusion before bringing your finger back up to your lips. You close your eyes and brush your lips over your finger, letting your tongue lightly graze the skin before sealing the kiss.
You pull away slightly and open your eyes, brows furrowed. “Did I do it right?”
“It was hard to tell, your finger was covering your tongue. But if it felt right then yeah.”
“Eddie, how am I supposed to know what feels right? I’ve never done any of this before.”
Eddie comfortingly places a hand on your outer thigh and squeezes. “Hey, I know it seems really confusing. But the thing is, your body knows a lot more than your mind does. Just pay attention to what things make you feel good.”
“Okay,” you nod.
“Remember, this is supposed to feel good. You’re supposed to feel relaxed. If anything hurts or makes you feel tense then something’s wrong. And if it is, then I want you to tell me, okay?
You nod, taking in his words.
“We’re gonna start off slow, okay sweetheart? I’ll warm you up a bit first.”
“Huh,” you blink.
“Here, lay back,” he whispers. He moves back and gestures for you to lay down on the couch.
You shuffle to lie down with your back flat against the couch seat and look up at Eddie as he moves the blanket you two were using earlier to the ground.
He sniffles and moves the long sleeves of his henley up his forearms. He brings a knee to the side of your leg closest to the back of the couch and places a hand on either side of your face.
“Normally, you don’t really have to announce every single thing you do before you do it, but I will since it’s your first time,” he says.
“Ok,” you gasp.
“So, I’m gonna start by kissing different parts of your face first. Then I’ll move to your lips.”
“Okay,” you whisper.
Eddie’s hair hangs above you like a waterfall. He slowly starts to move downward and you close your eyes. You feel Eddie’s soft lips press against your forehead. He slowly inches down to your nose, then to your cheek. He places a hand along your neck and presses little kisses along your jaw.
Without even thinking, you reach out for him. One hand finds its way to his neck and the other to his shoulder.
His lips trail to your neck where he leaves warm open mouthed kisses that make your insides feel relaxed.
“Feeling good?” Eddie asks.
“Mhm,” you hum as you flutter your eyelids open. The soft light of the lamp on the side table glows around him. His warm eyes and soft lips beckon you toward him
“I’m gonna kiss you on the lips this time,” he whispers, lips hovering a few inches above yours. “And for now, just follow my lead, okay? If at any point you want to stop, just let me know.”
“Okay,” you nod and close your eyes.
Eddie moves down and gently brushes his lips on yours. Sort of like how he taught you to kiss your finger the first time. Even though your lips are closed while his are apart, you feel the warmth of his mouth a bit.
“Part your lips a little,” he mutters.
“Oh, right” you whisper and part your lips with the motion of your words.
He kisses you again, this time letting your top lip fit between both of his, his bottom lip between both of yours. You kiss him back and hum at the sensation. You start to feel him smiling against your lips.
He kisses you again this time letting his top lip fit between yours. You continue to kiss like that, alternating the feeling of your lips between each others. Little by little Eddie guides you to part your lips more and more as each kiss melts into the next. You start to feel more of the warmth in his mouth.
Your left hand moves to rest along his neck, with your thumb stroking the skin of his clean shaven jaw. Your right hand moves up to his hair, fingertips coming through his roots. He groans into the kiss before you rest your hand to cradle the back of his head.
Eddie uses the hand that isn’t currently propping himself up to touch along your neck, travel along your arm and end up on your waist. He squeezes lightly before hooking his arm around your mid-back. He leans down more and brings your body up, flush against his. Without even thinking about it first, your body responds by arching your back.
You guess Eddie was right. Your body does know more than your brain sometimes. Even your body knows how much it wants him.
You focus your attention back on Eddie’s lips, breathing through your nose so as not to break the kiss to catch your breath.
You’ve found a perfect rhythm together. The kiss is at just the right pace. Just the right amount of back and forth. Not too much pressure. It’s just perfect.
And god, you can’t believe how good it feels to touch Eddie like this. To feel him like this. It feels like your lips were made for each other. Like kissing was invented just for you and Eddie to know pleasure.
When you started, it was like you were just an ice cube, and slowly, Eddie’s been melting you into a puddle of water.
And just when you think you’ve fully melted, Eddie decides to turn up the heat a bit. Between kisses, Eddie slips his tongue in and glides it swiftly along your bottom lip. You gasp into the kiss. It throws your mind off guard, but your body knows just what to do.
On the kiss after that, your tongue imitates his, mirroring his movements. Eddie hums into your mouth and your back arches slightly.
Something shifts after that. The blood in your veins pumps a little faster. Your breathing is a little deeper, bringing more oxygen into your system. Your skin hums with electricity. Your senses heighten. You want every inch of your skin to be touching every inch of Eddie’s skin like two magnets being pulled together by their opposing poles.
You feel your head moving forward and back as your kisses with Eddie get faster, more aggressive. Like your mouths are trying to explore every single possible way they can fit together.
Your heads tilt from side to side and you feel his nose brush against yours. You hook your arms around his neck, letting your fingers roam through his scalp and the warm skin of his face. You whimper needily into his mouth. Sounds of pleasure escaping your lips.
To touch Eddie was one thing. To feel him was a whole other thing. But to taste him? Oh god, there is no going back.
Kissing him like this makes you feel so alive. The feeling of his lips and tongue and mouth intertwined with yours is intoxicating beyond belief.
Eddie Munson has become your new favorite flavor.
As your kisses deepen and speed up in pace, Eddie switches his hands, moving the left one to hold himself up and the right one to touch you. He hikes your left leg up and hooks it around his waist.
You whine into his mouth and pull back slightly. You hear Eddie’s haggard breathing.
“Oh Eddie,” you moan before connecting your mouth back to his.
You two resume kissing. It’s an all-consuming kiss. Like your brain has turned off and everything else in your body has turned on. Just for Eddie.
And it appears that the same has happened for Eddie. He begins to grunt and hum in your kisses. He hungrily touches and squeezes you along your waist and hips, reaching below the fabric of his shirt you borrowed to press against your skin. Your kisses become faster and sloppier.
Interspersed between kisses, he’ll bite your bottom lip, making you gasp against his mouth. You try biting his lip back. Your kisses have become so fast that you can’t find the right moment. Until one particularly quick pause between kisses he uses to catch his breath. When he brings his lips back to yours, you fit his bottom lip between your teeth and lightly apply pressure.
Eddie groans and you smile, feeling triumphant at your successful move. You continue to kiss like that, going through waves of fast and harsh kissing to slower, more melodic kissing.
You didn’t realize it would go on this long, kissing. Or, you didn’t realize you and Eddie would be kissing for this long. The kiss in Pretty in Pink only lasted for the last few minutes of the movie. You have no idea how long kissing Eddie has been. Could be a few minutes or a few hours.
You could go on for the rest of the night if he let you. There’s no place you’d rather be than in Eddie’s arms. Till his arms get tired and he breaks the kiss.
His breathing fans your face until he moves away from your face and sits back on the other side of the couch. You look at him through hooded eyelids. He moves his shoulders and flexes his fingers.
Your body is so full of light yet feels like it weighs more than a bag of bricks as you struggle to sit up, your muscles so weak from the pleasure of kissing Eddie.
Eddie breathes harshly and looks down. He runs a hand through his hair and looks up at you. He smiles painfully and you scoot closer to him.
“Everything okay?”
“Yeah, yeah… I, uh… got something I need to take care of,” Eddie grunts.
“Wait, what is it?”
Eddie looks at you, like he’s masking some sort of pain.
“Are you sure you’re okay?”
“Yeah I just um…” Eddie looks into your eyes before closing his own.
“Eddie, you’re never shy around me. What’s wrong?”
“Nothing. You just… sort of gave me a boner, sweetheart,” he answers, gruffly calling you his favorite pet name as he palms his pants.
Your eyes widen, “Oh.”
“I am painfully hard babe. But don’t worry, I’ll be right back.”
Eddie stands up but you grab his hand. “Wait.”
He looks at you and you tug, motioning for him to sit back down.
“Do you… I mean, could I… maybe I can help you take care of it?”
“You want to?” He asks, eyebrows slightly raised and a lazy smile forming in his lips.
You smile bashfully, “Yeah.”
“You sure? No pressure at all, sweetheart.”
“Yeah, I want to,” you smile and shuffle closer to him, “If that’s okay with you.”
“Yeah, it’s more than okay,” he grunts, shuffling to sit closer to you so that your thighs are touching.
You look down onto his lap and notice the subtle outline under the fabric of his plaid pajama pants.
He palms the outline and you see it shift beneath the fabric.
You probably should be doing something besides staring straight at his lap, but something about the male anatomy is so foreign to you, it amazes you to see it like this. To see him like this.
“Wanna help me with this, sweetheart?” He grunts.
“Oh, yeah, sorry,” you mutter under your breath.
You hesitantly reach forward and place your hand over the outline of his dick. Your eyelids flutter and you relish the sensation of his hardened yet clothed dick in the palm of your hand. You slowly press down and push your hand forward.
Eddie hums and you look up at him. His eyes are closed, lashes fallen upon his rosy cheeks, lips slightly ajar. He’s never looked more beautiful.
You look back down, with focus, and repeat your action with a bit more confidence. You feel his chest move along the side of your shoulder.
You bring your hand down to move a third time, but Eddie beats you to the punch. He brings his fingers up to the waist band of his pants and boxers. He lifts his hips up and pushes the fabric down towards his knees, letting them fall to his ankles.
And there it is. Without warning, his unclothed cock springs out, meeting you for the first time. You gape at the site of it. Of him. You swallow nervously. You’ve never seen anything like it. But, now you understand why a banana was used at the condom demonstration in health class.
In the soft glow of the yellow lamp light, you see the stiff rigidness of his hardened cock, standing freely on its own.
Eddie reaches to grab it with his hand. He begins slowly stroking up and down.
You look at him and his eyes are closed again.
“Here,” you say as you shoo his hand away. Reaching for his cock and grabbing it in your hand, “Let me.”
You look at him again and this time his eyes are open. He looks down at his dock in your hand, then up into your eyes. His eyelashes flutter as his eyes roll into the back of his head. You can feel his cock twitch in your hands and you tense up, slightly squeezing it.
“Move your hand up and down,” he breathes.
You nod and loosen your grip to stroke up and down.
“You can keep a tighter grip, like before.”
Like before, when you were nervous?
You tighten your grip and hesitantly move your hand up and down his cock.
He takes the arm closest to you and snakes it around your waist. The gesture brings you closer to him and you take the opportunity to kiss him again.
You lean forward and press your lips against his. He’s slightly taken aback, but by the second kiss he’s already kissing you back at full force.
You hear him loudly breath through his nostrils and feel his chest rise and press close to yours as you continue to jerk up and down his dick.
Eddie pulls away momentarily and listfully gazes at you.
“Remember to get the head too,” he softly instructs as he looks down at your hand.
“What,” you ask in confusion as you meet his gaze.
He holds his hand atop yours and guides it upward, letting your thumb run over the head of the hard cock. It feels smoothers than the skin in the base, and even sort of wet.
“Use the precum, it’ll help your hand glide a little better.”
“Huh,” you flutter your eyelashes, slightly overwhelmed by all the different sensations currently flooding your system.
“Or if it helps, you can try spitting into your hand or licking it for better traction.”
Oh. You take his words of advice and bring your hand up to your mouth. You lick a stripe and bring it down to the base. You pump upward and back down. You let your palm travel up one side, over the throbbing head, and over the other side.
You move your hand back upright and pump again, letting your thumb rub circles over the head to smear more precum.
It doesn’t escape your notice that Eddie shudders every time you do this. Every time you do much as touch the head of his cock he's a breathless mess.
You’re so lost in concentration, wanting to make sure your doing it right and making Eddie feel good that you don’t even think to kiss him again.
But while you’re making Eddie feel good, he wants to do something for you too. The only problem is, the way you’re touching him is making him have an out of body experience. It’s so good, he barely had control over his own limbs.
The mist he can do is lazily pulls you closer to his and press sweet open mouthed kisses into your neck.
Normally, you would’ve been ticklish along your neck, but something about Eddie’s touch is different. It makes you feel warm and bright. You hum and whimper when he kisses over the most sensitive spots.
He lets his lips travel to your ear. He bites on the lobe and tugs.
He whispers into the shell, “You’re so good at this babe. Are you sure this isn’t your first time?”
You giggle like a schoolgirl and smile triumphantly.
The sound of your voice drives Eddie wild and in a moment of impulse, he wraps his other arm around your waist and tightens his grip.
His kisses along your neck grow sloppier and your movement on his cock speed up, becoming harsher with each stroke.
“Sweetheart,” he grunts. You can feel the muscles in his abdomen constrict.
“Yeah?” You ask.
He grunts again, “I’m gonna—think I’m gonna co—“
And before he can even say the word, he comes.
“Eddie, what’s happening? What do I do?”
You freeze.
Eddie moves one hand to stroke his clock, pumping till the last big of cum comes out. It spills out of his leaky cock and onto his hips.
You’re so in shock and still overcome by pleasure that you’re frozen in this moment, simply an observer of Eddie’s current state.
“Well my darling, you just made me cum,” Eddie smiles cockily at you.
You smile back, slightly confused but overall pleased.
Eddie leans forward and kisses you. You kiss him back, but before he deepens the kiss, he pulls away. He fixes himself and excuses himself to go to the bathroom and clean himself up.
You suppose you should probably clean yourself up a bit too. This was far dirtier than anything you’d done before, so you go to the sink to wash your hands and fix yourself a glass of water.
You set the glass on the side table and sit back down on the couch.
After a few minutes, Eddie comes back out and joins you.
“You okay?”
“More than okay, babe,” he grins smugly.
You hide your smile and take a sip of water.
“Want some?” You offer to him.
He plops down next to you and accepts the glass, nearly chugging it all.
“Hey,” you smack his arm. “I asked if you want some, not all of it.”
Eddie chuckles and wipes his mouth with the back of his.
“Don’t worry about it sweetheart, I’ll get you some more,” he says cheekily. He leans over and gives you a kiss before getting up to refill the water.
He comes back and passes you the glass. You take a sip and place it back on the side table before Eddie tackles you on the couch.
You shriek as you move down to lay on the couch while Eddie moves to lay on top of you.
“Eddie, I can’t breathe!”
“Me neither. You really know how to take a guy's breath away sweetheart.”
You smile at his cheesiness.
“No I meant, you’re right on my lungs. It’s hard to breathe.”
Eddie takes this as the opportunity to basically manhandle you, picking you up and switch positions so that he’s laying down on the couch and you’re on top of him. Sort of like how you were when you first started movie night.
“That better babe?”
You press a kiss to his lips, letting him deepen it a bit before pulling away.
“Now it is,” you say matter of factly.
“I’m not gonna lie, you’re a really good kisser baby.”
Your heart lightens at the compliment. Eddie has kissed other people before, so the fact that he thinks you’re a good kisser is saying a lot.
“Where’d you learn how to kiss like that?” He asks.
You roll your eyes at his self-indulgence.
“Well, I had this teacher…” you play along.
“Must’ve been a hell of a teacher.”
“He was a pretty good teacher, but I think I also just had a natural ability. A gift some might call it.”
“Oh I definitely would. Those pretty lips were very gifted. Those hands… even more,” he teases as he leans forward for a chaste kiss.
You move your hand forward to cup his cheek.
“Is class still in session Mr. Munson,” you ask in a flirty voice.
One of Eddie’s eyebrows cocks up suggestively.
“Because there is so much I want you to teach me.”
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hemmingsleclerc · 3 months
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Golden Globes ┃CL16
summary : where you go to the golden globes with your mystery bf and end up being an f1 driver
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The day had arrived, after weeks of anxiety, you were already dressed in ypur beautiful dress, with your makeup and hair done just waiting to leave. Your boyfriend was there with you, but you had both decided not to pose together on the red carpet, so it would just you. After you received the news that you had been nominated in the category of ''best supporting actress'' for your film ''Oppenheimer'' released that same year, you hadn't been able to sleep, you longed for that award after having given your all to that role.
The Golden Globes would be important, that day your boyfriend would accompany you and you couldn't ask for more. In fact, both had tried to keep your relationship as private as possible for the last two years, but at that moment it almost didn't matter to hide it from the public eye.
Arriving at the event, Y/N, adorned in a stunning floor-length dress, gracefully walked the red carpet, flashing smiles and waving to the adoring crowd.
ynupdates
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liked by 182,572 others
ynupdates Y/N has arrived to the golden globes looking stunning!
Inside the venue, the atmosphere was equally charged with emotion. You and your partner had already met and were both walking hand in hand.
The glitz and glamor of Hollywood's elite filled the room, and Y/N couldn't help but feel a flutter of nerves as she took her seat among the nominees.
As the night progressed, the tension in the room reached its peak when the "Best Supporting Actress" category was announced.
The presenter was reading the names of the nominees while a camera pointed at each one when the room fell silent. Y/N was gripping her boyfriend's hand tightly when the presenter said "And the golden globe goes to" and her heart raced when her name echoed through the auditorium. Her eyes widened in disbelief and she stood up from her seat, she gave her boyfriend a kiss and hugged several of her friends before heading to the stage.
While on stage, holding her award, Y/N began her acceptance speech with her voice shaking. She thanked the incredible team she had worked with on the film, acknowledging the director, her co-stars and her team. The audience burst into applause upon hearing her words.
Then, in a moment that was sure to garner attention on social media, Y/N took a deep breath and dropped a bombshell. "I also want to thank the love of my life, my rock and my biggest supporter ever," she said, drawing shocked faces from the crowd.
The camera panned to capture the surprised expressions on the faces of the audience. Speculation in the room intensified when Y/N continued: "Charles, my charlie, you have been my pillar of strength throughout this incredible journey. Thank you for being there for me through the good and difficult times."
Attention was focused on an elegant Charles Leclerc, sitting in the audience, with a proud smile adorning his face watching her. The revelation caused astonishment in the room and the crowd erupted in a mixture of applause, cheers and murmurs of surprise.
The cameras captured the genuine emotion on Y/N's face as she continued her heartfelt speech, expressing her love for Charles and how he had been the unwavering support she needed all those years. The audience, initially taken by surprise, eventually broke out into a standing ovation, celebrating the couple.
When Y/N left the stage, Charles greeted her with a big hug and a kiss telling her how proud he was of her.
ynln
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Liked by charles_leclerc,taylorswift,robertdowneyjr and 1,543,859 others
ynln What a night!!! thank u @goldenglobes !!!
and also thank u to my boy @charles_leclerc for holding me before I passed out from excitement.
username GIRL WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK!??!?!?!?!
username SINCE WHEN????????????
charles_leclerc beyond proud of you❤️
liked by ynln
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greatooglymooglyyy · 3 months
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Drowning (Chris Sturniolo)
contains: angst, drinking, verbal fighting, general sadness, a makeup, happy ending, 1.4k+ words
“Girl, what the hell are you thinking?” I snap at my best friend and roommate, Kelsey, as we whisper fight in the kitchen.
“Please, friend. I need you to wingman me. It's way too awkward if it’s just me.” She pleads, grabbing my wrist.
“This looks like a two man, Kels. Chris will kill me if he finds out there are three boys in our apartment.” I say with a sigh.
“Noooo, it’s so innocent.” She insists. “One of the boys is gay, and the other has a girlfriend."
“Kelsey…”
“Pleaseeeeeeee.”
I tilt my head back in defeat, closing my eyes, and pull my arm away from her. “Fine, but let me call Chris.”
She grins and kisses my cheek before grabbing a bottle of vodka and heading back into the living room with the boys.
I call Chris twice, but it goes straight to voicemail. He’s probably filming. I shoot him a text to call me when he’s done, and I head off after my friend.
***********
I throw my head back in laughter as one of the boys completes his dare to pretend to call his mom from jail. They have all actually been really cool so far, and I can tell Kelsey’s crush is feeling her as well.
I look down at my phone as I see Chris’ name flash across the screen. But as soon as I’m about to answer, the boy next to me accidentally knocks his drink over, right onto my phone.
“Fuck!” I say, hopping up and running to the kitchen to dry it off.
“Shit, I am so sorry.” He says, following right behind me.
“It’s okay. Just an accident.” I tell him with a tight smile.
He reaches above my head and grabs rice out of the cabinet and a zip-lock bag. “Here, leave it overnight, and it’ll be fine.” I nod and give him a small smile before dropping my phone in the bag with a sigh. I go back in the living room to Kelsey, my mood a little ruined.
“Can you text Chris that I broke my phone, please? I’m just gonna head up to bed.” I ask her. She frowns and checks the time, but I guess she reads the look on my face and just nods instead of complaining.
“Goodnight guys.” I throw over my shoulder as I head upstairs.
*****************
As soon as I wake up, I have a nagging feeling in my stomach. I head downstairs and, to my shock, see the boys from last night asleep on my couch. I massage my temples, feeling my irritation grow, and slip into the kitchen. “Thank god.” I say, as my phone powers on instead of the black screen I got last night. My stomach drops as I read all of Chris’ worried text from last night. I even have a couple from Nick and Matt.
I click his name to call, and he answers on the second ring.
“Hello?” He rasps, clearly fresh out of sleep.
“Hi, baby. I’m sorry about last night. My phone-”
“Hey, do you have an extra toothbrush?” A deep voice calls from behind me.
Shit. My breath hitches as I wait for Chris’ reaction. But instead, there’s just silence.
I turn to the boy behind me and shake my head, shooing him away, then clear my throat and call Chris’ name.
“There’s just no fucking way you’re that bold.” He says, his voice like steel. “Who the fuck is that?”
“That’s what I was trying to tell you last night.” I say quickly. “Kels invited some friends over. That’s all.”
He’s silent again for a second, so quiet that I double-check that he didn’t hang up.
“So it’s a coincidence that the night there are boys in your apartment, you literally go ghost all night?” He says. His voice is so calm that if I didn’t know better, I’d think he was asking about the weather.
“Chris. I don’t know what you are trying to say, but nothing happened. How stupid do you think I am?”
“I honestly never thought you were stupid at all until right now. Or a fucking liar.” And then all I hear are those three distinct beeps.
***********
I’m laying in bed, watching my comfort show, and trying not to think of watching this same episode with Chris. It’s been a week since he went no contact. I stopped trying after calling back to back for two days straight. I can’t make someone trust me, and I’m not the type to chase a man who’s running. But it doesn’t stop my chest from tightening up when I think of him. When I think about the weight of his head on my chest and the calmness of his presence, it takes all I have not to cry.
I hear a knock on my door, and I sigh. I’ve been avoiding Kelsey, but it’s really not her fault that my boyfriend had no trust in me. I get up, swing the door open, and find her standing there next to Chris.
He looks about as good as I feel. He’s got deep purple bags under his eyes, like he hasn’t been sleeping. I want to pull him into my arms and hold him. I want to wrap my legs around his waist and never let go. But instead, I just stand there with my arms crossed because I don’t know how to love a boy who doesn’t trust me.
“Before you say anything,” Kelsey starts, reading my expression like only she can. “Me and Nick trapped him into hearing me out. I told him how it all went down. And I’m sorry, I played a part in this, but you guys need to talk this out.”
She pushes Chris into the room and slams the door shut behind him before I can even get a word in. And then I’m so close to him, I think it will kill me. I look down at his shoes so I don’t have to meet his eyes as I say, “It’s okay, Chris. You can go.” I feel the heat of his fingers on my face before I feel them. He tilts my head up to his face, and steps very slightly closer.
“I’m sorry.” He says, barely above a whisper. And his words pull me out of my trance, like I’ve had cold water dumped on me. Because I’m not just heartbroken, I’m angry. I’m pissed. I take a big step backwards and give him my most convincing, nonchalant shrug.
“It’s fine. It showed me what kind of person you think I am.” I bite out. He flinches and rubs his hand over his face. When he meets my gaze again, his eyes have a bit of fire in them as well.
“Are you honestly telling me that if I told you this same story, you would believe me, no problem?” He asks with a sarcastic edge to his tone.
I step back toward him, narrowing my eyes. “Maybe not.” I concede. "But I would have heard you out. We would have talked it out. I mean, fuck. Maybe even fought it out. But I would have never disappeared on you. I would never give up on us without a fight. But clearly, you don’t feel the same.” This hits him right where I want it to, and I can tell. Regret and defeat flood his face, and he goes to reach for me before thinking better of it and lowering his arms.
“If I didn’t trust you, it would have never hit this hard. I’ve never done this before. I’ve never had anything I was this scared to lose.” He leans against my door now, and I can tell he’s fighting back tears. I’ve never seen him cry before, and it absolutely guts me. All I want to do is forget all of this. But, my mom always said, to forget is to be a fool, and I need assurance that he's a safe place to land.
Then he meets my eyes again, and I feel all my resolve cave in on itself.
“How do I know you won’t take the next chance you get to run?.” I ask, fighting to keep my voice steady and backing up to sit on the edge of my bed.
"Because I’m telling you I won’t.” He says, following me and then kneeling between my legs. “I know you think I was running away this week, but really I was just drowning without you.”
I loop my finger around his chain and pull him up to eye level. “Never again, Sturniolo.”
“Yes ma’am.” He says with a smile before pressing his lips against mine.
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bambiimutt · 6 months
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Hello, I loved your writing, and I wanted to request some relationship headcons with Masky
Relationship Head cannons
I wanted to do this for everyone I write for cuz I want them to get some attention too!! I hope that’s okay!
TW!! Mentions of stalking, talking of perverts but not super heavy, possessiveness, if I missed anyway let me know!!
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Masky/Tim Wright
-Honestly at first he’s a bit awkward, i see him as socially awkward in general so him being in a relationship? Oh my fuck. And it’s not the Awh such a cutie patootie he’s so awkward. No like he’s so awkward he doesn’t know what to do with you. He’s so awkward he goes silent. Awkward babe.
-once the relationship grows into something deeper he’s better. He definitely still has his moments, but it’s now more how he landed you. How he was able to find someone that cares for him and puts up with him. He’s not much honestly just his random outbursts and waking up with no memory of his nights before.
-speaking of. A lot of trauma lays on his shoulders. After jays death who you don’t know much about and everything leading up to the events of marble hornets. All you knew was that he was supposed to be in this student film.. but shit happened. And he refuses to talk about it. You’ll ask him sometimes if you can watch the tapes but he tells you time and time again. No. More because he knows what he is and he doesn’t what you running from him. He’s with you yea but he doesn’t want to expose you to the operator.
-as mentioned in a few of my other posts. He’ll leave for weeks on end and if it’s not for weeks its almost every night. He’s leaving and coming back at ungodly hours. Most of the time you’re asleep and he waits till your asleep to do this. There’s been a few times his mask is left out because he comes home so drained that he kinda forgets to hide it.. and when you question it sometimes he does remember, and most times he doesn’t. But when you ask he’s stammering. He knows why he has it but doesn’t know how to tell you, doesn’t want to.
-he’s not the date night kind of guy but he doesn’t mind spending some time with you from time to time. He doesn’t want you to think he’s ignoring you or just not care for you because he leaves for weeks.. he wants you to know he loves having you around. It’s just. He can’t tell you about his life fully. When it comes to a date night it’s probably lots of time at home, watching a movie on his couch, cuddled up against him. If you fall asleep he’ll make sure you have all of the blanket. He can fully not be as tense, relaxing into you as you sleep against him.
-very very very sarcastic, it earns him smacks to the arm like 10 times a day.
-he’s alright with public affection but again he’s awkward.. sooo maybe don’t be so affectionate in public. But at home, he’s all over you, sleepy man, cuddled up to you, following you around the house. He seems so big and tough but he hates being away from you.
-Tim’s not crazily over protective. Maybe insecure at times but deep down he knows that you are with him because you truly love him. So if anyone ever approaches you he trusts that you can handle it yourself, if not he will 100% help you.. by torturing the guy the same night, and he’ll come back having that be his only memory.
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Tobias Rogers
-ARF ARF ARF BITCH IS A FUCKING DOG. I’m telling you that mother fucker IS ALL OVER YOU. Now I’m not saying he isn’t one scary mother fucker. But he tries to keep his shitty ass fucking life out of his love life. Because really.. this isn’t what he wanted ever. He didn’t want to be part of this operator shit. So he tries to be normal? As normal as Toby can get.
-you actually help him a lot with his tics. If he can focus on something for long enough they don’t get as bad as they can get, they actually become more tame, so if he ever has a really bad tic attack, you’re always the one to talk him through it, to calm him down and to focus on your voice. And he’s better in no time.
-TALK ABOUT BEING A PRETTY MOTHER FUCKER.. YOU NEVER GET OVER HOW PRETTY THIS BITCH IS. messy brown hair, brown tired eyes, nicely shaped face, pretty fucking smile. He never used to have one but he ended up growing a semi beard. More of a patch on his chin. And what does he love the most? Hearing you tell him how pretty he is. Running your hands through his hair, kissing his face all over. God he could eat you right up.
-he’s a closeted pervert. But like not to the point where it’s unbearable but like he’s all over you. He’s grabbing your thighs.. he’s leaving hickeys all over. He’s a boob/chest guy. He just wants you close. So close you could fuse into one. He likes you in panties.. he also likes taking them whenever he has to be on a mission for weeks.. and we all know what he’s using them for.
-socially awkward mf. When you’re both out in public he’s so quiet. And he can’t do it alone anymore, not since he’s met you. If you’re ever on the bus, he’s as close as possible, hands fidgeting with your fingers, and staring down at them so he doesn’t have to make eye contact with others. Though there’s been a few times he’s had to interact with the people who complain about how much space he takes. He’s tall and lanky but the man manspreads like there’s no tomorrow. You have to grab his leg and pull it in because he’s just glaring.
-he kinda forgets that you can feel pain. Because he grew up not feeling pain he’s learned to be gentle with the things he cares about. But if you ever want to play fight he can sometimes forget, and get a little rough. So when you get hurt he’s pulling away instantly. “Fuck.. i.. I didn’t t-think that would h-hurt. Baby let me see it..” he’s babying you the rest of the night.
-now even though he’s a pretty good boyfriend he can be a bit much.. at times. He doesn’t mean to trust me. But he can get agitated quite easily. Certain tones can make him start to overthink, he can grow angered, upset. Just try to be reassuring and he should be okay.
-Toby is one of the overprotective ones. He will do anything and everything to go make sure whoever was all over you is not longer waking the fuck up. He might even steal you a little gift to make you feel better.
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Ben Lawman/Drowned
-you might wanna buy some shit to keep the house from smelling like weed. And I mean it. He tries not to go crazy because he knows you don’t want the apartment smelling like it, but he can’t help himself sometimes.
-I’m not gonna lie to you, he most definitely watches you through cameras and your computer and shit. He’ll send pop up messages to you just to freak you out, etc. he thinks it’s so silly seeing you get so spooked out.
-he’s typically at home often. He doesn’t really go anywhere, aside from chilling in the fucking computer. So you get to have him around a lot.
-except it can get so fucking annoying. All in all he’s a really calm person, and keeps to himself but when you come along.. he’s all over you. Like suffocating. He wants you on his lap, he wants you sitting between his legs, cuddled up underneath his shirt, please just BE CLOSE. He’s much like Toby in that aspect. He just likes the physical love. Anything physical. I think it kinda brings him comfort too to be honest.. finally feeling the touch of someone. Something.
-like Toby he’s a fucking pervert. But like it’s hella known. He doesn’t keep that a secret. He’s a dirty motherfucker. Like I’m talking footjobs, cosplay.. but like that gamer girl, slutty look.. you name it he likes it.
-he likes to game so a lot of your time is probably spent watching him or playing with him. If you play with him though, be warned he’s a sore loser. He doesn’t rage but more or so finds excuses to show he should have won. But all in all, he’s just fooling around.. he enjoys that you can play with him, he likes that you like what he likes.
-immature. Not all the time but most definitely immature at times. To be fair when he died, he was still fairly young so sometimes his humour can be a bit.. questionable. Even if you aren’t laughing, he’s slapping his knee and pissing himself laughing, looking at you so that he can see your reaction. Just smile.
-he’s not overprotective. Like Tim he’s just really fucking insecure and I mean really. Really insecure. He sees other couples. How normal they are. How alive they are. And he can’t be that. He feels bad that he can never keep you warm because he’s an actual freezer. He feels like compared to others.. you could do so much better. So when someone hits on you.. he’s sulking. He’s walking further away from you. He’s just insecure. And scared to lose you. But these boys are also.. murderers. So knowing Ben.. well. That person shouldn’t have done that.
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Jeffery Hodex/Jeff The Killer
-Asshole. Asshole. Asshole. Dickhead. Did I mention he’s a fucking asshole. He may seem like he doesn’t care about you. But I promise you he does. He just has weird ways of showing it..
-an actual fucking bully. I’m sure he’s made you cry time and time again, but you don’t do it in front of him, you don’t want him to think it hurts. Oh but if he knew.. if he knew how much it hurt you he’d beat himself up over it.
-he may seem like a fucking hard ass but he hates when you cry..he’s never one to show his emotions but it’s when those tears fall that he could break right there.
-hates public affection.. but at home? Different story. “Play with my hair.” “Jeff no, I’m busy.” “Please.. pretty please” there’s a moment of silence before you’re rolling your eyes and his head is on your lap.
-talk about sec when he’s angry. It’s a good way for him to get out his pent up anger, or if something happened he just needs you. So really what I’m trying to say is underneath all that hard exterior.. he does need you in many ways. Wether he likes to admit that or not.
-even though he’s an asshole.. he makes up for it with his rare sweet moments. To me. Jeff is.. not like others? I just mean, look wise he was always the odd one out not that he was ugly but like because he didn’t look like every other normal kid there. So having a metal head boyfriend..? With some kinda cool scaring by his lips in the form of a slight smile. Pale skin long black hair, tall and fit…. You know he’s playing the guitar to you. Yknow the room is gonna be filled with a bunch of black shit, band stuff, his weird collection of knives. On the note of he makes up for it with his sweet moments. Sometimes he’ll go through his collections with you. He will play the guitar for you, he’s also quite a good singer so expect some of that. (He most definitely sings you to sleep.. but he makes sure you’re half asleep first so you don’t remember it.)
-he’s not as horrible as he seems, he just.. doesn’t like showing his true emotions. He likes to look like the big bad tough guy. But really.. that scared little kid that hates the world is still in there. So what he needs is comfort. And you provide that. Just give him some time.
-overprotective. And if that was an understatement it would be far more then that. He is wayyyy too overprotective, possessive. You’re his. And his only. Nobody should speak to you in any form of flirting, nobody should look at you, touch you. You. Are. His. Now he keeps the killing out of your knowledge… as much as possible. Sometimes almost getting caught by you.. anyway. The person that looked at your ass and you didn’t even know? Yeah dead by 11 pm. You most definitely find out.
-type of motherfucker to have pictures of you on his phone with his hands around your throat, sitting on his lap, etc. post it. He wants you to. He’ll send them to you just to do it. He likes to show off what’s his.
-when I mentioned he was an asshole. I meant it. Because he doesn’t know how to handle his own emotions he can’t handle yours either. He internally freaks out. So what does he do? Does what he does best. Shuts you out and gets angry at you for showing your emotions
-please don’t be too upset.. he’ll be wandering in some point that night to hold you. He just doesn’t know how to tell what he’s going through.. so just hold him. It’s his way of being vulnerable with you.
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Brian/Hoodie
-to be honest. He may be One of the more normal ones. Though when he leaves for weeks on end and comes back for a good while he’s just not himself. He’s quiet. He wants to be alone. He hates being touched, he snaps so much easier. But other then that. Brian tries to completely forget about everything he does and focuses on you.
-a lot of the time, he likes to spend quality time with you. Walking in the local park, doing art, helping him edit his “silly” little videos as you call them. Oh how oblivious you are. He’s a sweetheart, kind, caring. He’s gentle. He knows your likes and dislikes like the back of his hand. He knows what makes you tic, what makes you sulk, what makes you smile. You can thank him stalking you for that.
-yeah remember what I said about him being the most normal, he may have a few quirks. He stalks you from time to time. Not that he doesn’t trust you.. he just. Can’t take his eyes off of you. Ever. Because he doesn’t know what the operator could do.. and well. He just wants to see you, but more to keep you safe.
-he can’t sit still unless he knows where you are at, if you’re okay. And once he knows he can be at peace. So you can only imagine how fucking hard it is for him to be gone for weeks. He ignores all text messages he gets aside from yours. He’s constantly talking to you, making sure you’re okay. he just needs some reassurance and he’ll be okay.
-his camera is full of videos of you. He likes to take these home styles videos of you. Cooking in the kitchen in you’re underwear and his hoodie, you dancing in the living room, sleeping. He likes to look back at them from time to time.
-he makes sure to keep his pills and if you take any medication, organized and separated. He’d freak the fuck out if you accidentally took some of his. That and he needs a specific dosage.. one a doctor didn’t prescribe for him. Ahem. More his dosage of what he pleases. Don’t worry he claims he’s okay time and time again.
-he’s not like Tim with his memory loss, but he can forget things from Time to time. So if you can, if you were there just try and sit with him to help him remember. All he needs is to know that you’ll be patient.
-he likes kisses. Give them to him. Immediately. He wants them all over. His lips, cheeks, forehead. He’s such a sweet man.
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noneorother · 6 months
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Oh my god, season 2 is The Tales of Crowley Hoffmann
I guess this has to be a series now too. Part 1 l Part 2
When Aziraphale wants to perform a show-stopping magic trick in S2E4, he is shown the "Professor's Nightmare," a rope trick, and references "Prof Hoff himself" at the end of the minisode.
Because we love double meanings so much around here, I decided to actually watch the Powell & Pressburger epic opera film "The Tales of Hoffmann," assuming it was the another P&P easter egg and the other Hoffmann (not the magician) that was being referenced.
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One, this movie is unhinged. Two, this season IS The Tales of Hoffmann. Allow me to explain...
There are shot for shot quotes literally everywhere throughout the season.
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P&P The Tales of Hoffmann (Automaton Ball) & Good Omens Season 2 "The Ball"
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P&P The Tales of Hoffmann (Hoffmann watches Stella perform) & Good Omens Season 2 "The one with the zombies"
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P&P The Tales of Hoffmann (Clerk in Automaton Ball) & Good Omens Season 2 "The Ball"
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P&P The Tales of Hoffmann (Tale of Antonia, Hoffman & Antonia) & Good Omens Season 2 "The Clue Crowley & Aziraphale"
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P&P The Tales of Hoffmann (Prologue) & Good Omens Season 2 "The one with the Zombies"
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P&P The Tales of Hoffmann (Tale of Giulietta Banquet scene) & Good Omens Season 2 "The Clue Banquet scene" *By the way Hoffmann wears a goatee for this tale
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P&P The Tales of Hoffmann (Prologue "Dragonfly dance") & Good Omens Season 2 Prologue "Before the Beginning" *This is Stella and un unknown devil drangonfly, NOT Hoffmann
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P&P The Tales of Hoffmann (Tale of Antonia) & Good Omens Season 2 "The Clue"
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P&P The Tales of Hoffmann (Tale of Antonia) & Good Omens Season 2 "The one with the Zombies"
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P&P The Tales of Hoffmann (Automaton Ball) & Good Omens Season 2 "The Ball"
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P&P The Tales of Hoffmann (End credits through Hoffman's glasses) & Good Omens Season 2 end credit scene.
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Stella & Aziraphale. This one makes me laugh.
There are SO MANY MORE, but tumblr has an image limit. Seriously, it's nuts.
2. It seems simple and straightforward, but it's not at all
" Why would ambitious filmmakers simply film an opera? Many admirers of the work of Michael Powell and Emeric Pressburger have assumed that their decision to make The Tales of Hoffmann (...) was in some way an admission(...) that they couldn’t go on making their edgy, over-the-top melodramas after the rejection and interference they’d suffered (but) there’s a case for considering The Tales of Hoffmann as one of the finest and boldest works that Powell and Pressburger produced, so far ahead of its time as a wholly “composed” film, combining visual and musical elements, that it has still not been fully appreciated... Late in his life, Powell himself said that he thought it was one of the best films that he and Pressburger had made. What makes the film so remarkable is a series of paradoxes: the fact that it virtually reinvented the freedom and fantasy of silent cinema while making full use of Technicolor and a stellar cast of dancers and singers..." - Criterion, The lives of marionettes
3. The structure of the story is the same as the show
Here is the story of the Movie** (Not really the Opera that inspired it) In the prologue, we see the dance of the dragonflies onstage at a ballet. Count Lindoff (very bad dude) is spying on both the principal dancer Stella, and the audience member Hoffmann (who's admiring her). Lindoff is behind the scenery. During her dance, Stella passes a love note to her assistant for Hoffmann. The bad dude intercepts it out of jealousy. During the intermission, Hoffmann goes down to the tavern next door, watched by his sort of buddy in red, Nicklaus. People ask him to tell stories to while away the time, and so he tells 3 stories (actually four but we'll get back to that).
We launch into 3 tales/minisodes in other times and places : 1. The Tale of the Ball of the Automaton where he falls in love with a robot. He is humiliated. 2. The tale of Venice (Giulietta) where he falls in love with a courtesan/double agent who crosses him. 3. The tale of Antonia, where he falls in love with a girl who feels trapped by her living dad, her dead mom and a mysterious bad dude (Lindoff). She is murdered in a ring of fire, but becomes a ghost and is resurrected and sent back to earth. At the end, we snap back to the tavern in the real world. Hoffmann reveals that these three women are all metaphors for how he feels about Stella, his true love. He's drunk and depressed now, thinking she never sent for him after the show. Stella arrives in the tavern looking for Hoffmann, ready to run away, but now accompanied by Lindoff (dressed as an angelic figure) who followed her. She looks to Hoffmann to save her, but he's too blinded by the fact that he doesn't think she loves him back to pick up on the signal. He gives up, and she goes back up the stairs guided by Lindoff. Her assistant (who was bribed by Lindoff at the beginning) is given the go ahead by Lindoff to go back to the tavern and taker over. They close the door to the tavern, while she walks up ethereal stairs with the bad dude. THE END.
The one story that doesn't fit into the minisodes and is told in the real world is Kleinzach. We understand by the end of this one that this is Hoffmann's self loathing about never being good enough for Stella, because Stella is perfect and Hoffmann is ugly and deformed. The main love interest attempts to steal Kleinzach's essence through a mirror by the end. 4. Powell & Pressburger recast four actors in new roles In The Tales of Hoffmann, P&P decided to recast four of the principal actors/dancers from the film The Red Shoes in new roles, wanting to recreate the magic that they brought to the first ballet film. Sound familiar?
5. Crowley is Hoffmann
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"The Tales of Hoffmann" original 1881 costume concept for Hoffmann & Crowley costume sketch for S2E3 1827 Edinburgh. Glasses are a really important aspect for Hoffmann in both the opera and the movie versions of The Tales of Hoffmann. Hoffmann is gifted metaphorical magic glasses that he wears to be able to perceive his love in a way they aren't really in real life. In the opera, he wears dark glasses to shut out the real world, not just as a metaphor. Check out a modern day version of the opera's Hoffmann costume :
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He's french and slamming a beer but you get it. Crowley also canonically loves watching movies. It would make so much sense that his minisode recountings with him and Aziraphale would resemble different styles of movie that he loves. Seeing as we see him drive away at the end as the last character, an argument could be made for him being the ultimate narrator of the story in season 2.
6. The original American release of The Tales of Hoffman had 14ish minutes cut out of it by the studio. So we all know by now that whole debacle about having the clocks jump 14-15ish minutes during the kiss?
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"The Tales of Hoffmann found an audience far wider than expected, despite Korda’s misgivings about the movie’s running time and his decision to cut 14 minutes out of the film for its American release." - Criterion, The Tales of Hoffman
I have been unable to unearth what the difference between the American & British versions of the P&P Tales of Hoffmann is, if you know let ME know. I want to know! _____________________________________
And I HAVE SO MUCH MORE. This is long enough already so I'll save the more detailed stuff for a new post.
**The opera is a whole other beast. You can read about it here, but basically there's a lot more going on in the opera because the composer died before finishing it, and multiple versions exist after the original uncompleted score got lost IN A FIRE. Anyway. Here's part 2
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gentlyweeps-world · 5 months
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Ferrari Red .3
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summary: Tensions run high between the beloved Ferrari boy and his girlfriend after a complicated Austin GP. Pictures and rumors surface, catching the eye of Y/n.
pairing: charles leclerc x fem! reader
warnings: angst, Ferrari boys red flags, alcohol consumption, toxic actions, throwing up
Previously: “We have to go” She says, her eyes traveling around the club rapidly.
“Why-“ You ask, trying to keep up with her, but then you finally realized why, or more so saw why.
Charles Leclerc was standing only four feet in-front of you with a look of pure rage on his face.
LIGHTS OUT AND AWAY WE GO
All you could do was stand there frozen looking at Charles, you had never seen him so mad. Sadie continues to yank you away from Charles, but he's quicker.
“She's coming with me Sadie”, Charles growls out, grabbing your other arm and pulling you into him. Sadie doesn't say anything, rolling her eyes as she walks away, in search of a different guy to flirt with.
“I told you she was a shitty friend cheri..”, He murmurs to you, leading you through the club and towards the doors. You don't object, since you don't know if anyone could be filming, after all it was a very public club in Monaco.
Once outside the lights of Monaco illuminate everything, you break away from Charles grip and opt to walk next to him towards his Ferrari, not questioning where he's taking you.
Charles opens the passenger side door for you, moving so you can get in. Charles is quick to get into the driver's side, starting the car and going a bit over the speed limit to your shared apartment.
Finally back in the comfort of your shared apartment you look to Charles, crossing your arms over your chest. “What is your issue?”, You ask with irritation in your voice.
“Who was that guy?”, Charles asks, anger and pain clear in his face. “I don't see why it matters…you went off in Austin and did the same thing to me”, You state, rolling your eyes as he rubs a hand over his face.
“Just- just tell me who cheri..”, he begs out voice breaking. You let out a sigh, “I..I don't know, some random guy named Lucas I think? Maybe Liam?”, you say trying to recall when you had kissed him, but your mind goes blank.
“Did it mean anything?”
“What?”
“Kissing him, did it mean anything?”, he repeats, his eyes searching yours as you lean up against the kitchen counter.
“What if it did? I don't see why you're so upset Charles, you kissed a random girl, better yet you felt her up! That broke me…you dont- you dont get to be mad and act like you did nothing wrong!”, you say, voice growing with anger and wavering.
“I’m not saying I didn't do anything wrong Y/n! You're mine..I'm the only one who gets to kiss you! Who gets to touch you and make you smile!”, Charles says his voice raising as he moves closer to you, his hands instinctively going to your hips.
“No..no..I'm not yours Charles! You lost me as soon as you kissed that other girl!”, you say, pushing him away from you. Then with one look at him you realized just how much your words hit him.
You can see tears fall from his eyes, lips parted to say something but nothing comes out from his mouth. Just a few seconds later you realize why he's gone silent. Jules and his father. He couldn’t lose you too.
“No..cheri, please no”, he begs out, voice breaking with a soft tone, more tears falling from his face.
With a shaky hand, Charles reaches out towards you and caresses your face with his hand, wiping the still falling tears off your face.
“I need a break Charles..” You softly say, looking him in his eyes once more. Instead of saying anything he simply presses a kiss to your forehead then one to your lips, cherishing it for one more moment before you leave, at least for the meantime.
“I’ll pack a small bag and stay with Sadie..” You say, breaking away from Charles with a sad smile on your face.
“How long?”
“I..I don't know Charles'” You mumble out, walking away from him to quickly pack a small bag for Sadies apartment.
“Why must you stay with Sadie?” He asks out, watching as you pack up a bag. “She offered for me to” You grumble out, throwing some last essentials into your bag.
“Why do you care anyway?” You add on, rolling your eyes as you walk out of your bedroom and back into the living area, planning on leaving soon.
Charles doesn’t say anything, silently following you, his eyes focused on your every move.
“When will I hear from you?” He softly asks, moving close enough to lace your fingers together.
“I’m not sure..” You say, turning to face him, looking over him one more time you pull your hand away from his, opening the door to your apartment then shutting it softly behind you.
Charles simply stood there, tears forming in his eyes again. Looking down at his hand that was once in yours he lets out a groan, wishing he hadn’t kissed or even looked at that girl.
radio: Honestly might end this series with a sad ending, that would be fun (At least for me). Once again leave any requests and comments! I’m slowly running out of ideas and energy, so requests are appreciated :)
taglist: @distancedss @janeholt3 @dessxoxsworld @lightdragonrayne @glitterf1 @bansheelydiia @kiarahblack @meadhbhcavanagh @cmleitora @needtokeepfeelingsincheck @honeybunchiesofoats @wcnorris @victoriaholland
next chapter
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marvelous-slut · 6 months
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Rats - Chibs Telford x Reader
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not many warnings on this one, just mentions of guns i think? xx
You feel your body tense up as you hear the motorcycle pull up to your driveway. The gun in your hand is cold, but you have a tight grip on it. You have your mothers crucifix in the other hand, holding onto it just as tight as you pray silently. Tears fall from your eyes as you stand up to face the door way. The engine turns off and your body goes cold, holding the gun out to the door. Prepared to kill whoever it is that has been sent to kill you.
It was always said Piney, Clay and Bobby had spent many days in the club house carrying you around. They held you, fed you, changed you. Bobby was the most attached to you out of the three men, once you got old enough he’d make sure he had things to keep you occupied. He didn’t want you thinking of your father Otto being locked up and at this time as far as you were concerned your mother had a 9-5, but everyone knew she was filming her movies to try to help with the expenses that came with a baby.
Jax and Opie had been your right hand men for years. The two of you had did everything together. Riding bikes together and imitating all of your fathers, running around Teller-Morrow together. Once the three of you hit high school, your trip was inseparable. Lots of parents didn’t want their kids hanging around “biker thugs” kids.
Tig was like the creepy uncle, sure you didn’t like to sit alone with him but he sure did know how to make someone laugh when they were down. Juice, while quiet he thought highly of you. You were always willing to help him out, and he did the same for you. Any time he over heard you talk about going on dates, he was looking up information on the guy to make sure he wouldn’t cause any problems. Happy was different, he usually said nothing when you were around. You couldn’t help but like him because when he did say something, it was always a great comeback or eagerness to help the club.
Chibs Telford, he was the man who occupied your mind day in and day out. The one who looked out for you most in the club besides Bobby. You didn’t know what it was or why he did the things he did for you, but they always made you feel like a high school girl again with a crush. Anytime at the SAMCRO parties when you’d have a little too much to drink, he’d make sure you made it to his bed safe and sound, untouched. He’d let you sleep there alone until the morning when you felt better. He always had coffee made for you two to share. Maybe it was the fact he had a daughter he couldn’t take care of as you were younger than him, but it made you feel a way about him that you’d never felt about anyone else.
One of these men would kill you tonight and you were sure of it. You hoped it would be Happy, convinced it would be him. He would kill at the drop of a hat, plus you were close to him. Bobby would never be able to pull the trigger he was too close. No one else made sense. Your father had ratted on the club and tonight they’d seek revenge on his child as his wife was buried 6 feet under ground. As much as you loved these men dearly, considered them family you also knew what they were capable of if it hurt the club. The engine turns off and you hear a knock at the door. You set the crucifix down, holding on to the gun with both hands. Your heart falls when you see Chibs standing at your door, of course. They’d sent him to end your life. As he sees you with the gun pointed at him, he throws his hands up in the air.
“Jesus Christ! Lass, put that thing away!” You continue holding the gun, pointing it directly at his head. You feel yourself shaking, unsure if it was fear or shock. Maybe even both. Tears spill over as you realize the man you’d been in love with would kill you, or you’d kill him.
“No. I know dad ratted. I know what you’re here for!” You scream, shoving the gun closer to him. He grabs it and jerks it down. He takes the gun, emptying the bullets. You fall to the floor, tears falling down your face. “I don’t want to die.”
“What the hell are ya talkin’ about?” He asks, shoving the weapon into the waist band of his pants. He squats down, pushing hair out of your face. “Who’s going to kill ya?”
“Apparently you! The club has to send a message to dad about him flipping, my moms dead. He has nothing else to loose besides me.” You say, Chibs feels his heart ache at the sight of your tears and fear. He grabs your face, making you look him in the eyes.
“Love, no one’s killing anyone. Jackie boy wanted me to come by and make sure you were okay. Reassure you the club still has your back, we know this ain’t your fault. What your father has done doesn’t outweigh the trust we have in you.” The words make a weight lift off your chest. You wipe the remaining tears away and laugh. Chibs remains a little distraught that you thought he would be coming to kill you.
“They wouldn’t send me anyways, probably send Happy.” He says, chuckling as he does. “Jax says we have some kinda fucked up bond.” You think back to the times Jax had told you at the club house you had daddy issues after he’d saw you and Chibs together.
“That bastard.” You say, sighing afterwards. Chibs has a confused look on his face.
“Do we have some kinda fucked up thing?” He asks. You grab his hands, running your fingers over them.
“Maybe we do. But I like it.” You say, he smiles, pulling you into his chest. Your face lays on his kutte as he runs a hand through your hair. “Would you please stay tonight?” You whisper.
“I’d love to.”
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Note
can u make a story bout matt and y/n and they get in a really bad argument that leaves matt and y/n thinking about their slowly shattering relationship ?
(sorry i love angst 😭😭)
love ya !!
#🩹
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breaking point
matt sturniolo x fem!reader
summary - this rec^^
warnings - angst, kissing, swearing, use of y/n, kind of really sad
a/n: sorry this came out so late and to the person who requested i hope this is good <3
NOT PROOFREAD
-
matt and i have been dating for 4 months and it was going amazing until recently. my friends warned me about the 3 months relationship mark and boy were they right. we have been going through a really rough patch arguing about simple shit all day, to the point where i would frown at my phone more than i would hope.
we were so happy until we couldnt make time for one another. between his crazy filming schedule and me having a normal job one of us was always busy. eventually we realized both of us had no time to be alone together and just be happy. when we did talk it was about how we need to make more time for eachother and other than that we were busy. which brings us to our dinner date that was slowly coming to an end.
“hi ill just get the bill please.” matt smiles at our waiter. i just pick at my skirt as we sit in silence. both of us were already upset with eachother before we went for dinner and then had to sit in a formal setting angry, quiet, wanting to work everything out, and still hungry as i was too upset to eat. i spent the night picking at my plate and matt pretty much did the same.
“matt i, i need you to see this from my point of view.” i mumble quietly. “stop, we will talk at home. right now im just trying to get us out of here ok?” he locks eyes with me gripping his wallet.
i nob in response as i feel tears pricking my eyes. the dim light above the table highlighting the tears threatening to spill out and i inhale sharply as matt stares at me. no expression on his face.
he pays for our dinner and i grab my coat and walk to the exit of the restaurant. fresh air hitting me like a brick as i felt i couldnt breathe in the restaurant.
the drive home was completely silent. i just sat there my purse in my lap and starring out the window. the only sound being the car engine and the occasional blinker noise.
we get to his house and he doesnt even bother getting my car door like he always used to. i enter the house after him and begin to take my shoes off. the house is quiet due to chris and nick being out of the house tonight, they wanted to give us space but honestly i would kill to hangout with one of his brothers right now. at least the air wouldnt be so stiff.
matt goes to his room and then walks to him bathroom as i work on my heel strap. all in complete silence. i grab a shirt of his and a pair of my underwear that i keep in the drawer he emptied out for me that is fulled with extra clothing and pyjamas for when im over.
i wait for him to finish showering and he walks in with wet hair and plaid pyjama pants on. “you can go.” he points to the door. “what?” i say my heart breaking at him kicking me out.
“baby go shower we were out of the house.” he says as i sigh in relief. i smile and slightly nod at him as i walk out to the bathroom.
once im done showering i find matt sitting at the end of his bed withe his elbows on his knees and phone in hand. he looks up at me as i stand in the doorway drying my hair off with a towel. you could cut our tension with a fucking knife it was almost suffocating. “can we talk now.” i ask. he pats the spot next to him and i move to sit.
“whats happening to us matt, we used to be so happy and connected.” i look down at my lap. “we are happy and connected y/n.” he says. he knows its a lie, we arent happy with eachother right now.
“we are sitting right next to eachother and i feel like were completely different rooms right now. thats not feeling connected.” im extremely frustrated at how matt cant confront the issue here.
“im right here” he grabs my hand, “why dont you feel the same. we are happy and in love and want this relationship more than anything.”
“i cant because we never make time for one another. your always with chris and nick filming or at an LA party with tons of girls.” i remove his hands from mine, “im not blaming you i just want effort from you.”
“your insecure about other girls? seriously. how is that my fault. who planned tonights dinner?” he asks
i stay silent.
“who planned tonights dinner.” he says in a scary tone. i freeze as he is correct but going on dates has nothing to do with repairing our relationship. “your getting on my fucking nerve.”
“matt a fucking dinner date isnt going to solve our problems. we need to work together to be able to be in the same room without sitting in complete shitty silence. i cant take it anymore.” i say as tears begin pooling out of my eyes.
“oh now your crying, what the fuck are you talking about. i have been putting in effort to this relationship you want me to be the bad guy here so bad. if you dont think its working you can leave. you need to learn when its time to stop. you push and push and push.”
“matt its not that i dont think its working. we can find a way around this we just need to work together. i dont see effort in the sense that you never make time for me. theres always something more important and i cant stand it anymore.” i say getting louder.
“no, your blaming me saying that you are the only person putting in effort. im not your personal serotonin dose im your fucking boyfriend. i can only do so much. if what im doing isnt enough take your shit and leave im not going to put up with this bullshit.” he shouts as tears well in his eyes.
i stare at him as tears fall out of my eyes. ive never seen him angry enough to yell. i never knew i would be the person to push this out of him. “matt if you love me you will help me fix this. we are adults not fucking teenagers that are going to break up over nothing. i love you with everything in me and want to be with you more than anything. if we keep ignoring this were going to end up broken.” i plead
“i love you enough to know that your being a bitch right now. making me the bad guy and trying to sugar coat it. well you clearly dont think this is working based off of what your saying to me.” he stands up. “if thats what you think you can sleep on the couch or get the fuck out and go home.” he wipes his eyes as tears stream.
now sobbing i get up quietly and make my way to the living room. “matt we cant be over.” i wipe my eyes and sniffle, turning around to him in the door way.
“you tell me.”
-
thanks for reading xx
taglist: @sleepysturnss @blahbel668 @alorsxsturn @w4nnabeurs @junnniiieee07 @waydasims @matthewloverr @bitchydragonparadise @matthewsturnioloswifey @iloveneilperry @stunza @realuvrrr @jennss23 @tubl-mc @lilsstvrn
a/n: how are we feeling???
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loser4loserswhok1ll · 10 months
Text
First Meetings + Touches With The Slashers
How you meet and how your first touch goes
Headcanons
Sfw, fluff, some angst, slashers learning how love works and sort of failing</3, GN reader
Includes: Martin Mathias, Brahms Heelshire, Michael Myers (RZ), Norman Bates, Kurt Kunkle
💉Martin Mathias
It was.. awkward.
you were spinning slowly on the roundabout thing at the park with Martin
it was late at night, pitch black out, and you guys were just existing together, talking only every now and then
youve done this since martin moved into town
you guys met when he delivered a package to your house and when you came to put it away for your mother you instantly wanted to know this kid
he looked around your age and you think he felt the same
so you guys just became friends and sat in the silence of the other like this often
you did most of the talking as Martin just watched silently, only chiming in every once in a while when something really caught his interest
at some point deep into a comfortably one sided conversation, your hand slid slightly and gently rested on his
you didnt notice, but oh god he did
he just stared at your hands and shifted uncomfortably but not in a disgusted or hateful way, more like a cautious and unsure way
it took a moment before you looked over and realized and you moved your hand back almost immediately
he just stared at you with those puppy eyes, mouth slightly open showing the tips of his front teeth (cute stuff yknow?)
You apologized but he just,,, stared. scanned you. observed you.
it took a moment before anyone spoke, and shockingly, it was him
"Its ok. your hands are warm.. s'okay. I promise." and he said it so soft and in that awkwardly boyish manner that he has
that made you smile gently, easing the tension, putting your hand back in its spot comfortably
it was a peaceful night and an even more peaceful comfort between you two
🗝Brahms Heelshire
the actual first time he touched you wasnt even when you were awake
that wall freak snuck into your room when you were asleep and petted you basically
but the first time when you were awake was when he decided it was finally time
he just couldnt wait to reveal himself any longer, he would go insane if he had to watch his goodnight kisses be wasted on some hollow porcelain again and again
he tried to be gentle, soft, tried not to scare you
of course you were damn near terrified to death
a tall and strangely muscular man just lumbered out of the wall, the very same walls youve spent months in between, months living with, and yet never once did you think they were a living space themselves
it took you time before you could calm down, painfully long before you even let brahms take a step closer to you
but when you let him, he was overjoyed
he gently grabbed you and nearly swallowed you with his arms, taking a very obvious and harsh sniff of your hair
that was the first of many lingering hugs and touches so you should probably adjust to this new life soon- for your own sanity
🔪RZ Michael Myers
oh, and make a new list of rules
you werent supposed to be there, actually
there was a halloween party going on at the myers house (and it wasnt even a good one smh)
you didnt want to go but your friends didnt want to walk alone (and they definitely needed a chaperone to walk them home)
so you walked them there, dropped them off, and gave them a time when youd be back to wrangle them (also chastising them for disrespecting the house and the myers family so horribly)
you had a nice evening to yourself, 0 worries, watching some slasher films alone (house of wax, wolf creek, house of 1000 corpses, yknow the good stuff)
time to get your friends unfortunately *sigh*
you turn off the tv and make your way to the myers house
there are.. a lot.. A LOT.. of police
in a panic you sprinted through every shortcut possible to make it there
one of those shortcuts was through bushes and in between neighboring houses fences
thats where you bumped into him
you looked up and froze, fear paralysis, staring at the blood splattered ghost white face- no- mask
from your end, you were sure you were gonna die
from michaels end, he didnt know what to do with you
he saw you ramble on about how these dumb drunks should just let the myers family rest and they were disrespecting them and blahblahblah
because of that he wasnt going to kill you
but here you guys are, body pressed on body, between bushes and fences, staring at eachother
he made the first move and you flinched and blocked your head with your arms instinctively
he didnt do anything, just left you there to collapse into a ball of fear and confusion
anyways he had to contemplate why he liked the warmth of your body against his so much (and why its been in his mind for weeks after the incident)
oh also ur friends are dead :p
🛎Norman Bates
you were just a normal guest
just passing through but it got late and it isnt safe to drive when youre so sleepy
so you pulled into the nearest motel you could find and low and behold its the bates motel!
you got your stuff and checked in
you just assumed norman was this shaky and nervous around everyone
norman knows hes not. at least not to the degree that you made him
god the moment he layed his little puppy dog eyes on you he was in shambles
you are the definition of what he desires
mothers pissed!
he helped you bring your stuff to your room and you guys talked about anything and everything
he invited you to eat dinner with him after you mentioned you hadnt eaten
you unfortunately refused because your exhausted tanked your hunger by a long shot
as he was going to leave you touched his arm gently, a friendly touch
you thanked him and he shakily gave a thank you back for choosing his motel and being so kind and being so gentle and for being so- he should really get going now before he rambles too much and loses his dignity, shouldnt he?
you laughed softly at his behavior and gave him a kind goodnight before closing the door and readying yourself to sleep
norman basically booked it back to his house
mother had an earful for him but he was so dazed and stupid from the things he was feeling for you
the absence of your warm fingertips on his arm made him crazy, he wanted longer touches and he wanted to feel that warmth endlessly
he was very adamant you stay in the bates motel again soon when you checked out the next morning (much to mothers dismay)
📱Kurt Kunkle
he was your spree driver (so unexpected ikr)
you got into his car when he pulled up and happily greeted him
he liked your kindness, he likes not awful people a ton
was real awkward with you but you didnt seem to mind (you were also a little awkward so it was like a mutual thing)
you asked him about the cameras and he told you it was for some webseries about safety as a driver or something (he said it very strangely so you kinda didnt trust him)
you leaned forward to talk with him more and you guys really hit it off
he thought you were cool, you thought he was a total weirdo
perfect match
the drive was painfully short though so you had to leave soon after you got in
when you got out you knocked on his window and complimented his service
you also gave him your number and he gladly took it
after exchanging numbers you placed your hand on his shoulder while thanking him
he went RED and stuttered out a 'your welcome' and also rambled about how hed love to drive you more often and stuff
after you left dude had to take a BREATHER
he wants you back in his car NEOW
rides the high that your touch gave him for the rest of the day (even a little bit the next day too)
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damiansgoodgirll · 10 months
Note
are r up for writing about gavi if so could you do gavi reacting to u pranking him telling his a guy did ur brazilian wax? if not that’s ok but can u then do it with kylian?
i’m not really a gavi fan so i hope you don’t mind i made this with kylian 🫶🏻🥹
kylian mbappè x reader
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Prank goes wrong
you saw this video on tiktok right before you had your wax appointment and you had this mischievous idea to recreate the same with kylian, even though you wouldn’t be filming it you couldn’t wait to see his reaction.
“hey baby!” you said almost screaming once you got back home from your appointment.
“hey mon amour” he said from over the couch “come here next to me” he aimed at you for joining him on the very large and comfortable sofa he had in his living room.
“how was your day?” you asked him.
“boring. no practice, nothing to do…you were gone all morning and the house was pretty silent without having you here” he confessed.
“i’m sorry baby…you knew i couldn’t cancel my appointment today” you smiled to him and kissed him.
“i know i know…by the way, how did it go?” he asked, focusing all of his attention on you.
“oh pretty good! you know, the usual girl who wax me was sick today so i had someone else to do it” you said trying to act natural.
“oh, was she good?” he asked.
“yeah, he was really really good” you said, not looking into his eyes yet.
“oh great…wait, he?” kylian asked you turning off the tv.
“yup…no one else was able to do it this morning, but they have this new guy and he’s actually really good” you said once again.
“but-but where did you? you know…where, which part of your body?” he asked you trying to keep it cool.
“oh, i shaved my legs, my armpits and my vagina” you said completely normal.
“hold on…you’re telling me you had a man touching you down there?” he almost screamed.
“what? he wasn’t touching…he was just doing his job kylian, why are you so pressed? you’ve never acted like this when it was one of the girls doing it…” you said.
“exactly! those were girls! today you had a man! a man! a man who basically saw you naked! isn’t this illegal?”
“why should it be illegal kylian? he was simply doing his job…i don’t get why are you so mad…” you tried to look hurt but inside you couldn’t stop laughing, this was evil but you were having so much fun.
“but-but…a man? seriously? he touched you down there y/n…a man!”
“you probably said man a thousand times already…kylian, i don’t get why you are so mad, he was just doing his job…” you tried to resonate with him but he was actually pissed about it.
“i’m not mad!” he screamed and you looked at him “okay…i’m mad…not mad mad, just mad, i don’t know okay? i don’t know how to feel! a guy saw you naked down there and touched you and i don’t care if it was his job that shit should be illegal! a man? no way that’s crazy! you know what? give me the name of that place…i want to get waxed too…” he said and that was the moment you completely lost in and bursted out laughing.
“why are you laughing? it’s because i wanna get waxed too?” he asked you.
“no…no that’s not the reason” you said between laughs “you’re so jealous i love you kylian”
“i don’t get it…” he looked like a lost puppy.
“no man touched me down there…” you kept laughing.
“then how did he wax you?”
“kylian…” you had tears in your eyes because you kept laughing “no man waxed me, it was all a prank” you said.
you couldn’t decipher the look on his face. he went from mad to confused, from confused to sad, from sad to relieved and from relieved to speechless.
“so you thought this was funny?” he asked you and you nodded “why would you think it would be funny? i was about to get fired a man that doesn’t even exist!” he said.
“you are so jealous you would even get a man fired for me?”
“well if a man saw my woman naked i would have his head on my table…” he said smirking at you.
“oh my - you’re something else” you kept laughing.
you both spent the rest of the day laughing about the prank you did but what you didn’t know was that kylian was already working on how to get revenge on you.
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reconstructwriter · 6 months
Text
Star Wars Fix-it: The Holonet Edition
The well-bribed algorithms of the Holonet should have relegated Tookruta1387’s clip to the tender hearts of a few friends. The days of spontaneous viral posts – without credits to grease the wheels – died not long after the rise of megacorps in the Republic. But the poster was either lucky or savvy enough to play the algorithms because “Jedi Being Cold” exploded. Screens, conversation, even news. And their post was just the start of a trend…
“Jedi Being Cold”: An old transport ship, frost coating the inside of its windows. A corner swathed in a nest of robes. Within three padawans snuggle together, fast asleep. If they were cats they’d be purring. One is purring despite a lack of feline attributes. A hand nudges them with a datastick, only for it to float away to a cloud of similar items.
“Jedi Being Cold” part 2: A snow-covered lake. One knight finishes sculpting a realistic snow tiger. Two others Force push each other like hocky pucks across the ice. One goes flying towards the statue. An expression of ‘oh crap’. Incredible, Force- assisted acrobatics deftly avoids the sculpture but crashes right into the sculptor in a tangle of limbs, sending them skidding into a snow-bank. The third Jedi pokes their head into the many-limbed hole and gets snowballed for the trouble.
“Jedi Stealing Children”: A child at a slave auction. A robed figure swoops in like a hawk, slicing through chains with their lightsaber and ripping apart cages with the Force. The camera pans to one slaver Force shoved into a cage, clearly furious as the Jedi escapes with a whole crowd of people, many children.
“Jedi Stealing Children” becomes the title for 1287 pictures, clips and gifs before someone adjusts the algorithm. This makes them surprisingly hot commodities on the Dark Holo, especially the one with a Nautolan Master dramatically fleeing the capture attempts of a horde of children – ending in one dramatic arm reaching out as kids bury him
“Jedi As Warmongers”: A young Padawan, blood splattered, has a ‘does it get better’ look on their trembling face as they stare up at their Master. The Master is even grimier and gorier as they gather their Padawan up with an ‘I’m sorry but no’. The Padawan weeps and shakes, burying their face in their Master’s robes, who has silent tears down their face. In the background is a war zone.
“Jedi as Warmongers: part 2” Has war holomovie music playing in the background as the snap-thumm of a lightsaber echoes, vivid blue piercing the dark. The blade raises over something, is brought down…over a block of cheese and loaf of bread. The Jedi padawan gleefully declares: “Grilled Cheese for all!” The sound of sprinting footsteps is heard and a dramatic “Noooo,” from a Jedi Knight.
“Jedi as Warmongers: part 3”: The music has switched to aftermath of war horror, the kitchen looks like a cheese atomic bomb hit. The children are cleaning up and one wipes cheese with bread and pops it in their mouth: “grilled cheese for all!” An adult admonishes “You spit that out right now that’s not sanitary.” In the background the Jedi Knight is doing the same thing.
“Jedi Showing Off” Is Yoda’s contribution to this mess – which is just him going through an entire stack of photo-albums on his previous padawans. He opens the last book to Dooku the Padawan when Dooku the Master barges in: “Stop this indignity immediately!” The camera shows an intense close-up of someone’s palm. “Who even taught you how to operate holo-video? –” feed cuts off.
“Jedi Dignity”: Feed resumes from a different perspective as Master Dooku – previous camera still in hand – gives Yoda and several other watching Jedi a lecture on appropriate Holonet-posting behavior. “Not appropriate baby photos are?” Yoda asks, a card-shark’s spread of pictures with Dooku’s baby face. Dooku yanks them out of Yoda’s hands. “Not without m-the person’s permission!” Does a double-take. “Are you filming –?” Horrified glower. “Mace you traitor!” Video abruptly cuts off. Permanently this time.
Not even algorithm adjustments – and there are clearly several – can stop that from becoming viral. “Mace you traitor!” becomes slang for the latest generation. Mace himself rolls with it. Dooku attempts to entomb himself in the archives until this all blows over.
Actions may speak louder than words but memes speak loudest of all.
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nicksbestie · 10 days
Note
can you do a fic of little! matt where in one of their vids he gets hella anxious and as soon as it ends he just needs you and needs to be in little space
Recording - M. Sturniolo
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Summary : Sometimes being in front of camera is just too much to handle.
Warnings : mentions of anxiety, crying,
Word Count : 1438
Pairing : Matt Sturniolo/Reader (romantic)
A/N : This is an age regression fic, which is purely safe for work and innocent. Any hate/disrespect towards me, my work, or readers, will not be tolerated.
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As someone who already struggles with severe anxiety, the automatic pressure that came with sitting in front of a camera and having the knowledge that it was going to go out for millions of people to see was amplified by ten. There is a lot of expectation on Matt’s shoulders every time they get ready to film, and while the majority of the fanbase don’t mind when he’s more quiet in the content that they post, there is always a nagging feeling in the back of his own mind that it’s bothersome, not entertaining enough, that his personality needs to change a bit, and those strings of thoughts do get to him. Not often, but sometimes it is enough to cause some issues during, before, or after filming. 
His brothers often cracked small jokes about him never talking, and while he was generally a quieter person, there was a part of him that was silent because of the fact that he was sitting in front of a camera, and anything he said would be on the internet forever, and he would have to live with that for the rest of his life. Sure, they had a lot of stupid content out there, but that didn’t mean that the anxiety didn’t grab him by the throat every time the camera started rolling. He was doing better recently, it was not as bad, but he still had his moments. 
Today was one of those days, where he felt like he couldn’t breathe as soon as the light on the camera let them know that it was recording. He had tried to fight through the massive lump in his throat, hoping that they would get enough good footage that Nick could cut out all the bad clips of Matt looking like he was about to cry, which would serve as taking out two birds with one stone, because then he wouldn’t be seeing any extra sad edits of himself in the driver’s seat all over his recommended pages. As much as he loved all of their fans, sometimes seeing how depressed or anxious or sad he looked made it worse because it reminded him that people really were watching his every move in those videos. 
Matt really did love his job. He found it incredibly rewarding that he got to not only entertain but also bring comfort to people through just hanging out with the people that he had been around his entire life, and he wouldn’t want to change anything for the world. But he definitely wished that he could drop the crippling anxiety part of it, especially after such a bad recording day. Both Chris and Nick had noticed that he was off, more quiet than his normal persona on camera, and had tried to question him about it after they had stopped recording, but he had just brushed them off and told them that he was tired. He could tell that they didn’t believe him, but they didn’t push him any further. 
While he normally let his brothers help him where they could, there were a couple times every now and then when he just wanted to keep to himself. This always had the potential to be self destructive, and in the past, it had been, but at this point in his life he had gotten to the point that he was asking someone to come over and spend time with him if he had turned his brothers away. It was the same person every time. It was always you. Sometimes you were there with his brothers, if they had called for him, or if he had opened up enough to let them in too after you were already helping him. He wasn’t always wanting his brothers to see exactly what goes on in his most personal moments, because he held a lot of fear over their potential reaction if they saw what he really used to calm down.
You were more than just Matt’s partner. You were also his caregiver, the person he trusted with the most vulnerable parts of him. You absolutely adored him, and had never once taken that trust for granted. You had no intentions to ever do so. Neither of you could deny the fact that Matt’s way of coping was unconventional, not as heard of as some others, but also infinitely more helpful to his mind than other things he could have chosen. He had already known he was a little before he met you, and while it was a terrifying thing for him to talk to you about, he didn’t think he could be in a relationship with someone who wasn’t open to being his carer, especially knowing he would probably be regressed much more often in a comfortable relationship. 
Luckily, you had already known what he was talking about, and had been a carer in the past. You were more than open to loving that side of your boyfriend, and the relief that washed over his face when you told him that both made you smile and hurt our heart, knowing exactly how difficult it probably had been for him to tell you. Matt’s persona as a little was not very far off from his persona outside of his headspace. As you grew to learn his mannerisms and behavior, you recognized that he seemed to be basically the same person, just younger, smaller. He hovered around a toddler age, but he wasn’t chaotic. He was quiet, reserved, and didn’t talk much, but he was incredibly affectionate. When he was interested in something, you never heard the end of it, but he was content to just sit in your arms silently for a long period of time. 
However, the already small amount of talking completely disappears when Matt is pushed into his headspace from a negative force, like his anxiety. When it gets too bad, he cries a lot, doesn’t speak much, and stays absolutely glued to your side. You normally come over to find him staring in silence, not little, but as soon as you’re hugging or talking to him, he’s crying and it pushes him right in. If it gets terribly bad, it can push him into a younger state, but that is normally when the entire day has been absolutely brutal. Today hadn’t been brutal, but it hadn’t been great either, so you could tell you’d have an upset little when you received the text asking you to come over, and quickly. 
He never really wanted to talk when you got there, so you never pushed him. If he wanted to open up he would, and you knew that if he felt comfortable enough to slip into his headspace around you, when he wanted to talk, he would feel comfortable enough to do so. It didn’t take you long to get there, potentially speeding by more than you should have, but you easily entered after pulling into the driveway, using the key Matt had given you a couple of months ago. You greeted Nick and Chris quickly, moving up the stairs to Matt’s room. You could find him in this house if you were blind, but you still knocked on the door to let him know that it was you outside of it before entering. 
Opening the door, your eyes were met with a scene that was unfortunately fairly normal, but it still broke your heart every time. You immediately sat down next to him, positioning yourself at the base of the headboard, pulling him into you, a gentle pout forming on your lips when you felt his shoulders shake against you. You whispered comforting words for a long time, softly rubbing his back and running your hands through his hair, two things that often proved to be very effective in relaxing and calming him down. You could tell by his body language when he slipped, as his shoulders relaxed, and his arms held you a lot tighter, as if you were going to fly away. 
Comforting an upset little could sometimes be chaotic depending on the level of upset, but Matt normally just cried. It was often just sad to see how much pain he was in, but his littlespace really did help him. He didn’t hide his feelings and was much more open and willing to tell you what was going on, wholly trusting you with his entire being. But despite everything he had deal with so far that day, he knew that once he was wrapped up in your arms with his comfort items and a show playing, he was going to be just fine.
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~ taglist : @blahbel668 @mattsgirlfrieeend @69isabella69 @mayhem-72 @iculdstealurgf @iluvm4ttsturni0l0 @sturnioloslife @heartsforkarina @nervousrebelglitter @sturniclo @elliegrace-7 @mattsturnioloisbae @strnilo
~ if you'd like to be added to my taglist, click here!
~ my inbox is open, come chat!!
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chouxsardine · 4 months
Text
Coming back to me---Jake Kiszka x reader
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Summary: You miss him terribly, you wish he were here. Unexpectedly, there he is---Jake walking on you masturbating and you spill some more.
Pairing: Jake Kiszka x reader
Word Count: 4082
Warnings: 18+! Minors DNI, female masturbation, unprotected penetrative p in v sex, explicit use of derogatory terms, sexual fantasy, allusion of exhibitionism, implict soft dom!Jake, guitar worship(??) (you can already tell it's a lot and I'm going to hell for this...let me know if I've missed any)
Genre: smut, slight angst with agonizingly sweet fluff, slight hurt/comfort, agonizingly romantic Jake
Author's note: This is my second try on writing smut. I tried to be a lot bolder this time. I want this to be sweet and spicy and damn it is enjoyable and torturing for me to write. What an experience. I intend to dig further into this, so let's consider this as Part 1 of improper guitar use fantasy (more on it's way) I really really hope you enjoy this. If you want a visual for the short film mentioned, (which is also 18+!! you don't need it to enjoy the story but it's a very interesting piece) here's the link to that scene: Amante Menguante (or watch its full version in Talk to Her (2002), 1:1:01-1:1:06); That's all--Dig in :))
🎧: Baby’s Coming Back to Me by Jarvis Cocker; Homesick by Sleeping At Last
-----------------------------------
It wasn’t the film that turns you on; it’s him—it’s always him. The film only provides you with the idea.
It was a Friday afternoon, and you are mostly certain that you are going to spend the weekend alone again. Jake is out of town for a photoshoot and an interview for some magazine afterward. The time is too tight for a roundtrip back home. You clicked on a random movie to put on as background noise. It’s Talk to Her, which you have seen a long time ago and only have a vague memory of. You do remember there’s a nice song in it.
What you didn’t remember is the mise en abyme in its latter half, and you also certainly didn’t expect you to start touching yourself during it. The black and white silent film is titled Amante Mengunte, translated as The Shrinking Lover—the hero, Alfredo, drank a potion invented by his scientist girlfriend, which caused him shrinking to the size of a thumb. He is small enough to wander around on his girlfriend’s body while she is asleep. One day, he goes for a walk on her breasts, gives her a sweet orgasm in her dreams by climbing inside her vagina, and becomes part of her forever.
You catch your hand midway as it inches towards your mound. You felt embarrassed at first, getting all hot and bothered from just seeing almost any sex scenes like some horny teenager, but you know there’s something more to it. The gush of desperate longing wells in the pit of your stomach. You miss Jake so much that the idea of keeping him in you so that you never have to be apart seems enticing. The thought scares and arouses you at the same time. You press your knees together, the familiar swelling in between your legs throbs and spreads. You know exactly what you need.
Being led by your desire, you scamper downstairs to Jake’s studio—the place that feel most like him in the whole house. Simply putting your hand on the door handle sends a buzzing current through your body. The whole action has an excitement of forbidden secrecy. It is not that you are not allowed here, quite the opposite—Jake loves having you in his studio, calling you his muse, asking you just to be there doing random stuff like going through his vinyls or reading while he strums the guitar, like you are some model posing for his artwork. However, being here alone without him makes you feel like an intruder.
Upon pushing open the door, the musky, masculine scent whirls towards you. Given the time that Jake has spent down here, the room still smells awfully like him even after the many days that he was gone. The dampness of the basement reminds you of Jake’s hair freshly washed after a shower. The fresh bergamot cushions the hidden spiciness of black pepper that tingles the upper palate of your mouth like a sensual tongue during a teasing kiss. You inhale greedily before closing the door behind you, not wanting the smell to dissipate.
You turn on your laptop and connect it to the projector in the back corner of the room. With trembling fingers you plug in a silver flash drive and click on the folder labeled with a guitar emoji.
This is probably one of your biggest secrets. You have been collecting clips of Jake’s performance that are circling on social media, some shot by professionals and some by fans. (You prefer the ones by fans though; they always have the best angles and manage to capture the hottest moments. After all, you are just one of them before you start dating Jake.) And you have been editing the videos together, making a personal documentary of Jake’s performance. So far, the length of the film has reached 17 minutes, and you still have more clips patiently lying in the footage library.
You waste no more time clicking the play button. As the bright light shines through the small transparent lens on the projector, the video comes to life on the wall in front of you. You drop down to your knees.
It starts with the clip of Norwegian Wood. You like to ease yourself into it, despite already being slithery between your fold. Watching Jake play the acoustic guitar tenderizes and relaxes you. Each note, crisp and mellifluous, drips from the strings; the misty and ethereal background sound resonates in the stadium, adding to the ambience. As if the descent of a deity, Jake walks into the light as the cheering and applauding grows louder. You let out a soft sigh. Although much sweeter and mellower than its electric counterpart, the acoustic guitar dallies with your nerves. Thanks to the inadvertent little things that let Jake’s domination shine through—the way he moves the cable out of his way with a single flick of his wrist, the way his hand moves away from the strings to quickly rub the sweat off on his pants and adjust the waistline, the way he sticks out one foot to tap the pedal—every single move is a stimuli that rouses a response from your body, reminding you of how he slaps the outside of your thigh when you are squirming a bit too much under his tongue, how he spreads your release on your lower belly when he pulls out his fingers, how he nudges your knees apart and the cool air makes your clit quiver…
The music changes, and you’ve watched the video enough times to know that the next clip is the solo to The Weight of Dreams. You chose that particular video because of how unrelenting it is. For almost seven minutes, the ruthless grip of the music washes your mind empty. You stroke your hood up and down, feeling the flesh pushing down on your clit. You try, albeit futilely, to match your speed with the beat of the music. You lift up your head and gawk at Jake’s fingers tapping and plucking the strings, the muscles of his forearm flexing and the veins pulsing. The rhythm he wrings out of the instrument drips down your throat, gliding through your fold. You scuffs closer to the wall. You miss his fingers, the callouses; the ridge that separates the hardened skin from the soft slightly scrapes your walls and occasionally grazes your clit. In slight frustration, you slam one hand against the wall for leverage, leaning forward for more friction.
The overwhelming desire, plus the whining of the guitar, must have muffled your other senses. You are completely oblivious when the door opens behind you.
Jake throws the car in the driveway and almost trips as he kicks his shoes off at the doorway. A delightful change of plans allows him to come back home for the weekend. He couldn’t stop thinking about the way your face lights up when he surprises you. To his dismay, the house is eerily quiet. Your coat and bag are both hanging by the door. He walks into the living room—the film is still playing on TV, now with the credit rolling; you blanket is bunched up into a messy pile, obviously being yanked aside; the bedroom and the washroom doors are wide open, showing no signs of you. He was about to pull out his phone when he hears the muffled melody coming from downstairs.
He could never mistake the sound of his own riff. The thought of you listening to his music when he’s away strokes his ego in the best way. He smiles to himself as he pushes open the door. The sight in front of him makes him gulp. Blood rushes to the lower half of his body.
The projector’s bright light and the video on the wall are the only light sources in the room. He could only see the right side of your face from where he is standing. But that is enough to make his dick harden. Your eyes are closed, mouth slightly agape, with your jaw slack. Your hand is buried in your underwear, the bulge created by your fingers trembling with the circular movements. The blue light illuminates your face, softens your features, and bathes you in a holy glow. With your chin tilted up and your knees pressed, it looks as if you are kneeling in front of an altar, waiting to receive some religious blessing. And there it is, the image of him in front of you, playing on stage, shredding the guitar.
Making as little noise as possible, he closes the door and makes a bee line to your laptop. He presses on the volume button until the sound is completely muted. Sensing the change, you open your eyes and almost jump out of your skin at the sight of Jake standing behind you.
“Jake, I—” Before your hand spring out of your panties, you feel a warm and firm weight on your shoulder, holding you right in place.
“Keep going.”
His hand stays there for two more heartbeats, silently restating the command, as if he knows you intend to get up. You have half a heart to protest, but you quickly yield. Seeing him shatters your judgement and your sense of shame. Rarely do dreams come true, and when they do, it’s stupid to shut the door in its face. Your fingers dig deeper, picking up the speed.
“Eyes on me, love.”
The nickname muttered in his raspy voice has your head shoot up. You watch as he walks to his guitar stand, picks up his Gibson, and plugs it into the amp.
“I say there’s no need for a mirage now that yours truly is right here,” he turns off the projector and flicks on the backlit panel lights. The room is now shrouded in a puny indigo glow. “Am I right, my dear?”
You swallow thickly. Usually, this is when Jake expects an audible answer from you. But he is particularly lenient towards your reticence today.
“Now, where did we left off?” he speaks in a low mumble. He glances at your laptop screen before shutting it off. “Ah, Meeting the Masters. Very well.”
The throbbing between your legs now matches the thumping of your heart. Each contraction directly pumps blood to your clit, ballooning up the inflamed fervidity. You feel the bundle of nerves getting softer and spongier as you get wetter. Your insides ripple as you watch Jake pushes up the neck of the guitar as the trill of notes spills. Even in your murky state of mind, you recognizes that he is improvising by adding twist and turns spontaneously.
“I can hear the gears in your mind turning,” Jake tilts his head as he studies you through hooded eyes. “And it’s interfering with the music.”
He speaks to your pussy the same way he speaks to his guitar.
“Now, tell me what you are thinking. Entertain me with some of your thoughts, baby doll,” the music halts as he stands in front of you. Lifting up your chin, his thumb brushes across your bottom lip. “I’ve missed your voice, y/n. Talk to me.”
It sounded more like a plea instead of a command. Hearing that he misses you too warms up your heart. The pent-up grievance wells up to your throat, pressing a whine out of you: “I miss you so much…I-I imagine you are here.”
Jake hums encouragingly: “Be more specific, love. How, exactly?”
Dirty talk was never your metier. Jake is the talker in bed. He is fully conversant with your body as well as the effect that each of his moves has on you; you’ve always assumed he knows exactly what you want, and he’s always been correct. However, he is determined to push you further today. Seeing your hesitation, he decides to help you out.
“Am I there? Are you watching me?”
“Y-yes,” You take a deep breathe. “I am in the stadium. You..you are playing on stage.”
“Uh-huh.”
“Just you, only you. You are playing, and I am in the pit, by the barricade. And I get wet. I kneel down, just like—like I am doing now.” Your fingers flinch away from your clit, the feeling a bit too intense for you to continue the words.
“I am touching myself as I watch you play so perfectly, but you…you are not looking at me.”
Jake lets out a pitiful coo: “awww, I’m being mean, am I? Ignoring my sweet girl?”
“N-no!!” You quickly deny, shaking your head frantically. If you are in your normal mindset, what you are about to say would make you burst, but the fluttering sensation down there is burning a trail of wildfire straight up to your brain; the stiff string in your mind uncoils around the pole of shame as the next sentence fall from your lips hurriedly: “It’s me, I’m seeking emotional validation because I’m such an attention whore.”
Upon hearing that, Jake’s heart clenches. He knows that you are deep in your head and whatever you say now are probably some of the most cathartic and earnest words he will ever hear from you. The words revealing your deepest desire, your long-repressed yearning for him. While flattered by the love and devotion, he couldn’t help but feel a pang of guilt hearing your utter self-degradation. His grip on the guitar tightens, and the base of his thumbnail pales. He almost relents, wanting to scoop you up in his arms, carry you to bed, and adore you with kisses. But you are not finished.
“The gravel is grazing my knees and there will be scratches and bruises after. I finger myself. I close my eyes and imagine it is you doing it…you fucking me with your music. I imagine your fingers fucking my pussy the same way they move across the fret board and strum the strings,” now you find yourself unable to stop—the words plummeting out of you, one after another. Your fingers still dance around your throbbing clit, rubbing your labia up and down faster, drawing breathy moans.
“Haah.. Aaah…Wh-when I look up, I saw myself being projected onto those giant screens on both sides of the stage, the camera zooms in on my face…so, ah, fuck, I am watching you…and me fucking myself at the same time. Oh, please, Jake—” Your hips fall back down to your heels and you drop your head in defeat. Your movements lost its rhythm.
“Keep talking.” Jake paces towards you. You can only see the tip of his sock-clad toes and the way they slightly dig into the carpet. Your hand involuntarily reaches for him, holding onto his ankles first and then slowly creeping upwards. He bends at the waist, the guitar hanging from his shoulder, its neck knocking at your collarbone. His lips graze your ear, a mere whisper reverberates like thunder: “Go on, what else?”
You bite back more moans. “Uh…hum…The people, the people around me. They t-take out their phones and start recording and taking pictures of me.”
“Really, do they? How do you feel about that?”
“Oh God. There’s…I can hear so much…so many clicks and clacks of the shutters. And your guitar. And they talk…” Your hand on his calf fraps, a futile attempt to draw him closer. Your forearm feels sore, your neglected clit screaming for more love and contact.
“Please, Jake. I want to cum…I…” You open your mouth only to chock on a whimper as you feel Jake’s middle finger gently pressing on your clit. He is not moving; his finger merely stays there like bee on a flower's anther, pulling more sticky nectar out of you. Your arm gives out, smacking down on your thigh as you hurl forward.
“Tsk tsk, patience, love. You haven’t finished yet,” Jake leaves sloppy, wet kisses along your jawline. You pander to his lips, head lolling to the side. Every kiss feels like a searing cigarette burn.
“What do they say, y/n? Do they call you a slut?”
“Hell, yes. Yes, they post them online, the videos. They hashtag it…Mmm.. ‘Jake Kiszka’s slut,’ ‘the guitarist’s hoe’…”
With those last two words, Jake’s finger start circling your clit, a silent reward for your honesty and a bait to egg you on further. The agonizing buildup leaves you drenched at this point. The wet gushy sound is your pussy’s content purring, now that she was finally granted some attention.
“And in the end I finished. I finished along with your solo. I—I was so spent that I couldn’t even stand. Then, you finally look at me. You look at me straight in the eyes, and y-you…you said…”
“Good girl.”
“Good girl.”
Reality overlaps your imagination as you both mutter the two exact same words.
Your eyes widen. You lips brush passed Jake’s cheekbone and your forehead drops to the part where the body of the guitar meets the neck. The material cooling your skin like cooling pads for a feverish patient, breathing a sense of clarity into your mind. You are in a complete state of submission to the guitar, almost prostrating and bowing to it—a pagan, blindly asking for blessing and begging its approval.
Holy guitar spirit, please do not take up all of his time; share this man with me as well. God, I ache for him like no one else.
You will probably realize how stupid and abject the plea sounds later, that is, if you still care to recall; but right now, you couldn’t care less. You are hovering perilously on the edge of the precipice.
Lowering his gaze, Jake takes notice of your fingernails digging into the flesh above your knees and how your iron grip around his ankles strengthens even more. He knows it’s about time.
“So fucking pretty, my sweet baby.” The tip of his finger latches down on that exact spot, moving infinitesimally but effective enough to summon all your sensory nerve endings to orchestrate a collective hymn.
“Let go for me, love.”
That’s all you need to hear. Your shoulder hunches, ribcage pulls inward, stomach hollows, the muscles of your thigh contract as the walls of your pussy press together, dragging and sucking Jake’s fingers into you. Immense pleasure, like rock candy, bursts and bounces hither and thither all over your body. A part of you wish time could stop right there, so that you are preserved in the moment of forever bliss with a part of him slotted inside you, like an ignorant beetle being caught in a dollop of tree sap.
Jake makes sure you ride out your high before he straightens up. The soreness of his back only feeds more to the hardness of his cock. He slings the guitar off of his shoulder and sets it flat on the floor using only one arm, not even bothering putting it back on the stand; his other arm already wraps around your shoulder. He kneels down in front of you, his hands closed on each side of your face and his forehead resting against yours. Your breaths mingle as your heartbeats align. Jake gently pulls on your nape as you bury your nose in his chest, feeling his fingers scratching your back.
“Did so well, my love. My good, good girl.”
You catches your breath and musters your strength to look up to him with a tired smile. Your hands trail toward the bulbous erection restricted by his corduroy pants. Your mouth follows.
Jake hisses through his teeth, throwing his head back at the much-needed contact. With impressive willpower, he reaches down and cuddles your chin, pulling you up. “As much as I would love that, I also misses my girl terribly. I want to make love to her. Is that okay? Do I have her permission to love on her properly?”
The echoing tingles from your last orgasm hurtle back, making your head swoon. “Oh God, yes. Please. Jake, please.”
Jake scrambles to his feet and lifts you into his arms. Your legs feel like putty from kneeling so long. You stagger and fall back onto the leather couch. The couch is clearly too small for two grown adults, but neither of you mind or care; if anything, the limited space amplifies every sense. He guides your hands down his length and pumps it a few times. The closeness of your bodies makes his swollen tip pointed directly at your clit. You let out a needy moan, threading your finger through his curls and tugs gently until his eyes are level with yours.
Jake will forever revel in the way you look at him with your doe eyes, your pupil dilated, like you couldn’t believe he is real, like you’re intoxicated by a case of him.
“Hi, beautiful.” he grins.
“Hey you.”
You cup his face and go in for another kiss. He spits in his hand and reaches between you, positioning his length at your entrance and nudging his head in tentatively. You are too caught up in the moment that you didn’t realize your body is so taut, not out of nerves and rejection, but out of a desperate urge to hold him close. The hollowing eagerness that has been compiling for the past few months return with a vengeance. The weight and warmth of Jake’s body on top of you is all you could’ve asked for and more.
Jake can feel the confliction between the welcoming pulsation of your pussy and the hindrance clamping down. “Easy, dear,” he says as his hand on your breast traces down to your hips, rubbing soothing circles on your pelvis.
You tilt your head backwards. Your belly falls as your ribs flare out to the sides. He presses in slowly as you opens for him, until he is fully sheathed inside you. The final piece of the puzzle is being put into place. He moans a silent “fuck” into your sternum. The shiver of air travels right to your heart, through the flesh and bones.
Jake is right, no words other than “make love” can better describe what he is doing to you. Every single one of his movements murmurs “love”—his hand grabs yours and places it against his chest, right where his heart is. His cock repeatedly thrusts and retreats like crashing waves, brushing that particularly sensitive spot. His lips entwine with yours, nibbling and licking.
Pleasure, accumulating rapidly, like an empty bottle under the running tap. The surface tension jiggles, threatening to spill.
“Jake…fuck! I’m gonna—”
“Let go, baby,” Jake’s voice is unsteady too. “I’m right behind you.”
In fact, he didn’t even mange to hold out that long. The pressure sprints down his spine and blasts right to his cock. It spasms inside you, pinching and squirting. You climax together. For a moment, your hearts banging crazily against your ribcage, swearing to break out so they can be pressed together even closer.
You lie in the afterglow, two shells washed ashore, scoured back and forth by the slews of post-orgasmic endorphins.
“I love you, y/n,” Jake sighs into your hair.
“I love you, Jake. I’ve missed you so much, you have no idea,” your hands roam on his back.
“I could only imagine,” he sounds compunctious. Jake sneaks his hand behind your head, dipping down for another kiss. “I’m sorry for being away. Thank you for letting me love on you, baby. Your body feels like home to me, you know that?”
You are knocked out of words by the vulnerability and the weight enveloped in that statement. You can only nod, blinking fast to dispel the stinging tears.
“Oh, don’t cry, love,” he smiles at you. There’s also something glistening in his warm caramel eyes. “I am here now, will always be here,” his finger laces with yours, traveling in turn, tapping on your temple, your eyes, and finally resting on the left of your chest, “so, Carpe Diem, Carpe Noctem…”
“Carpe Omnia.”
If home is where the heart is, he has finally settled down. No matter how far, no matter where, once and once again, Jake will always come home to you in the end, where together your soul will dance, entangled in an inseparable embrace—day, night, and for a lifetime.
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Yay you made it!!! Thank you SO MUCH for reading!! Let me know what do you think or if we want a taglist. Any comments, thoughts, and feedbacks are GREATLY welcomed and appreciated.
My other works: Permission to Fall || Mariner's Complex || Ticked (all my boxes) || Love is a four-legged word || The Lucky Ones
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