#there’s no way i can’t get over this song

[babygazette]

FOX ON THE RUN!

pairing : rockstar!rafe x troublemaker!reader

synopsis : set in the 70s, rafe cameron was a singer for a world-famous rock band. what happens when he gets involved with a girl and spots her pretty face on a missing person section in the newspaper?

warnings : rafe calls reader “kid”, choking, manhandling, smoking, kleptomania

author's note : fox on the run by sweet is the theme song 😇 also just wanna add that i absolutely love @ghostofwriting ‘s kildare split au, it’s what inspired me to write rockstar!rafe <33 please check it out it’s so good

📠 📰 ────────*𑁍༘⋆ ────────

music blasting through the loudspeakers. passionate cheers. bright lights. that was the life of rockstar rafe cameron.

and that was the life you weaseled your way into. one day, you’re attending one of his band’s concerts and the next he’s got you in his hotel bed. you had him very charmed and now it’s been a week since rafe cameron has invited you to join him on tour as his plus one.

────────*𑁍༘⋆ ────────

the sheets over top of your naked bodies shuffle as rafe reaches over to grab his cigarette and lighter. “rafe.” you whine, rolling over onto your stomach, “gimme one.”

“yeah, yeah.” the singer grunts while grabbing another one, letting the two smokes dangle between his lips while he lights them both, handing you the other one. you blow the hot air onto rafe’s face making him roll his eyes at you before you slide out of bed. rafe eyes your naked body as you roam around the room with the cigarette settled between your two fingers.

“gonna get decent or..?” his words purposely trailing off, his eyebrow raised at you. “why, can’t handle what you see?” you let out the smoke to the side, lips curve into a cheeky grin as you look over your shoulder. rafe chuckles and licks his lips at your show.

“not gonna be able to handle what i’d do to you if you keep walking around like—“ your gasp cuts him off as you crouch down to your now empty little magazine stack. “rafey, i ran out of my magazines!”

“so?” rafe understands but couldn’t care less. “so? so we gotta get more.” you’ve already put your cigarette out and flicked it away, pulling at rafe’s arm to get him out of bed. he groans and drags you on top of his body. rafe holds your jaw tightly to keep your head in place while he smokes his cigarette, tilting his head down to blow it into your mouth, giving you a long kiss after to shut you up. “chill, kid. we’re going back on tour in two days. you can handle two days without your little magazines, right?”

…”no.”

────────*𑁍༘⋆ ────────

the bell rings as you enter the gas station store, you instantly beeline towards the magazines. new 70s fashion, trends, ooo celebrity drama! you pick all the ones you want before making your way back to the front.

“girl missing if you see—“ you stop listening to what’s playing on the tiny television sat on top of the back counter when you see something that catches your attention.

you glance at the cashier who’s busy reading a newspaper and then at rafe outside with his sunglasses on, pumping gas into his cadillac. your sneaky hands stuff a tube of lip gloss and a lollipop into your bra; rafe wouldn’t let you get it on top of your magazines so you did what you had to. whoops!

rafe comes back in with his hands in his pockets, walking up to you who wandered back to the magazine section, “got everything?” he looks down at you from the top of his sunnies and you check just in case before nodding. rafe’s hand instantly collects everything in your hands, before he freezes when he sees something on the shelf that was hidden by the magazine you just picked up. rafe quickly grabs the paper before manhandling you into the store bathroom.

“rafe— what’re you—“ he quickly shuts you up, locking the door behind him, squeezing your shoulder to keep you still. “what the fuck is this?” he shouts, shoving the newspaper in your face. that’s a good picture of you!

“you’re— what— missing and wanted?!” he questions, looking confused and pissed as ever. rafe turns the paper back to him to read the description. “you stole money??”

you throw your hands up lazily while rolling your eyes at him, “rafe, you’re being over dramatic!” it was nothing to you since this wasn’t the first time this has happened.

“i’m being— for fucks sake! i can’t be seen with you, people are gonna think i kidnapped you! i— why the fuck are you on this newspaper?” rafe pinches the bridge of his nose and closes his eyes before he does something. his hands grip your shoulder tighter, he slams you against the bathroom wall and looks you right in the eye. “kid, why are you on this newspaper?” he asks slowly with a condescending but calm tone.

“rafe, it’s a family thing. just ran away and ended up with you.” you mumble causing rafe to exasperatedly throw his hands up in the air. “are you— that doesn’t explain the money, kid. please tell me you have one reasonable thought in that brainless head of yours.”

you pout at his mean words and actions, wouldn’t have happened if he didn’t invite you backstage, just saying. “i did steal money but they’re only reporting me cause they want me back home!” your rich parents were crazy but i guess that’s where you got it from.

“m’taking you back.” rafe grumbles, tugging you towards the door, you instantly protest. “no, no! rafe you can’t! it’s sooo boring there! what if they make me marry some old man and it’s all gonna be your fault!” your words somehow convince him, rafe groans and stops.

“fine, fine!” he shouts, running his hand down his face before turning back to face you, wrapping his hand around your throat. “listen. there’s a pay phone outside and you’re gonna call your parents, alright? i’m gonna watch you do it so don’t you dare try anything.”

when you don’t respond, his jaw clenches in annoyance and his hand tightens around your neck. “huh?” he repeats in a more firmer tone, only letting go when you let out a choked “yes.”

he sighs, shooing you off meanwhile he collects himself in the bathroom for a second before he follows behind you. how did rafe get himself involved with an insane family? and how the hell did he manage to fall head over heels for a psycho upon first glance?

he can imagine the headlines already; rafe cameron, bigshot rock singer, kidnaps rich heiress. jesus christ.

#rockstar!rafe #troublemaker!reader #rafe cameron x reader #rafe x reader #rafe cameron fanfiction #rafe fic #rafe cameron imagine

[rootbeerworshiper]

means something

matt sturniolo x fem!reader

summery: your best friend stopped talking to you suddenly but you need one last chance at closure

warnings: angst lol

a/n: short and sweet (and sad) but i had fun writing it. alsoooo it’s based on the song but you don’t need the song playing in the background bc the pacing is different

love, sienna <3

you let out a defeated sigh as you focus your attention on a blank sheet of paper. it was supposed to be easy now, easier to let out your thoughts and begin to reconstruct your views on the situations that bring you sadness. at least that’s what your therapist advised you.

but instead you have nothing but small doodles of hearts on the top of the paper, serving as nothing but a sad reminder of your own life and how it lacks the love you always read about.

‘hopeless romantic’ used to feel like the wrong word, because there was a point where you had hope for a story like you see in the movies. a classic romantic comedy plot line was one you had always yearned for.

it’s silly how badly you’ve wanted it. you know you’re a complete person without it, you have strengths and aspirations and you cannot base your worth onto stupid boys.

but he wasn’t stupid. not in the slightest, regardless of what others said about him.

he was thoughtful and caring in ways no one else has been to you. never in your life have you seen someone so in touch with their own emotions at that level.

that’s because he’s special. to you and to so many other people.

April 17th, 2022

dear Matt,

i’m not entirely sure how to do this whole thing but it’s a step in healing that i’m more than inclined to take. part of me just really wants to get better so i have to do something to help me.

it might seem really random that i’m mailing you a letter, and trust me i understand how odd it is. but for once i needed you to hear me, and i can’t really send this message to a blocked number.

i can’t see anything in life without thinking of you. i saw a street sign the other day and i had to squint because, for a moment i thought i saw your last name plastered on the plastic. and i thought that it meant something. like the universe was trying to tell me something.

how pathetic is that? you know i can’t even have most of my favourite snacks anymore because they were our favourite snacks. the new foods you introduced me to when i forced you to watch ‘to all the boys i’ve loved before’ with me in middle school are practically forbidden from my apartment.

“this is the dumbest movie concept ever” Matt speaks, an annoyed undertone to his voice as he looks to me.

“you haven’t even watched it yet how can it be dumb? you know you might end up enjoying it if you watch it with an open mind” i reply, snuggling into his arm as my body rests on the soft couch cushion.

it definitely doesn’t take long for him to become invested.

“wait someone sent the letters?”

“why is she kissing him? doesn’t she like margo’s boyfriend?”

“damn they’re really just making out in a public hot tub”

the movie comes to a close, a cute song playing as the credits roll. “so, what did you think?”

“i think that i really like root beer and i really need the second movie now” he exclaims, sipping his bubbly liquid before looking down at me with the same blue eyes that can easily make me dizzy.

“i thought you’d come around Matt”

now i’m just a girl getting sad over a canned soda and a familiar brand of chips because it reminds me of all the good that once was.

along with this, i know everything about you.

i know your zodiac sign, me and leo’s are really compatible, which i never failed to mention to you despite how little you believe in astrology.

i can’t lie, the amount of silly little compatibility quizzes i took throughout middle school with our names punched in was a bit excessive, but every time without fail i would get the answers i had hoped for. and i thought that meant something.

i know how hard it was growing up for you. but i was there for you when you needed someone to force you to go to school in the morning, or when you needed help ordering food at the gas station across the street.

i used to think we were soulmates. not always romantic, but we just understood each other so well and i considered it to be sacred.

whenever i went through my own shit you were there for me. it was always so easy. knowing that if i had a bad day i had someone to go to who would listen with open ears… i guess it’s just been hard to live without that.

“Matt why did he break up with me? am i that unlovable?” i cry out, my head buried in matt’s chest as he rubs small circles on the back of my head.

he just pulls my head off of him, hands placed on either cheek as he looks at me. “i don’t think there is anyone on this planet that is more lovable than you”

i sniffle, trying my best to suppress the numerous tears that want nothing more than to escape my eyes. “so why did he break up with me out of the blue? after eight months why did he just decide he’s done with me?”

“because he’s an idiot who doesn’t understand the girl he just lost”

i cried for hours that night when my boyfriend broke up with me, and i know you remember. the next morning i woke up in your arms and i immediately felt guilty for keeping you up so late with my sob stories, but you didn’t care.

you said you wanted what’s best for me and you would make it your life’s goal to make me happy. and then you had the audacity to run your fingers through my hair as i thought about what to do next. that along with the constant reminders of how much i deserved love, that it was a definite thing for me.

how is that okay? do you not see how that was so completely confusing? did it mean absolutely nothing?

i haven’t kissed many people in my life, something Chris loved to tease me about. what he doesn’t know is that you were my first.

we never talked about it. maybe that was for the best, because every time i see a picture of you all i can think about is how good your lips felt on mine.

“i can’t just kiss you!” i laugh out, taking another swig of my drink before wiping my lips and looking back at the boy who has a serious expression resting on his face.

“sure you can. i don’t want jack to have an unfortunate ending to your guys’ date if u end up like… licking his bottom lip or some shit” he argues, holding his own drink in his own hand but keeping his attention solely on me.

“you’re just saying that because you’re drunk”

“maybe” he replies, sensing my hesitance. “is the idea of kissing me that bad?”

“no! no of course not, i just don’t wanna make it weird between us” i say, suddenly feeling a pool of anxiety form in my stomach.

but then, before i could form another overwhelming thought you just kissed me. just like that your lips were attached to mine and everything felt okay.

it was short lived, although i know i could have been like that forever. “nothing could ever make things weird between us, promise”

it’s funny isn’t it? how many times we assured each other that our friendship was solid, unbreakable.

i think the worst part is the not knowing. there’s nothing to comfort me with.

you left one day and you simply never spoke to me again. was it my fault? was it something i said?

i can’t help but wonder if the reason you cut it off is because you noticed all the small glances i would take in your direction. or if you noticed that the reason why i love romance books so much is because i imagine we’re the main characters.

that’s the thing though, i’ll never know. i feel less like myself without you, but maybe that’s part of growing up.

i have to learn what my own favourite snacks are and i can’t reply on you to have my back when i get my heart broken. instead i’ll be crying in an empty bed wondering what could’ve happened differently.

this wasn’t supposed to be a long letter but i promise it’s the only one you’ll be getting from me because i have to do the same as you, i have to move on.

i just have one question for you.

did all of this mean something to you? like really mean something to you in the way that i interpreted it.

i’ve wondered if i was delusional when i caught you staring at me from across the classroom, or when i found those compatibility tests in your search history.

but the kiss? drunk or not i thought something was there, with you or with us or whatever else. i didn’t think i was just another girl that Matt Sturniolo kisses and then forgets about but that’s exactly what i became.

anyways, i hope this letter finds you well. i had to ask Nate for your address but please don’t get mad at him. you know how stubborn i am when i want something and he tried to say no.

i guess i just love you, and i’m trying my best to make that sentence into past tense.

thanks for listening, y/n.

you grab an envelope that resides on the edge of your desk and open it up. folding up your letter and placing it gently inside before licking the tip of the envelope and closing it.

it all feels metaphorical. pouring your heart out just for it to get concealed by a thin piece of paper and shipped away.

regardless, you breathe out, standing up and making your way over to the garage to start your car. if you don’t do it know you won’t do it at all, and you need him to hear you.

a/n: if u want a part 2 you might get one maybe… we’ll see what i’m feeling anyways hope you enjoyed this blurb

taglist: @lolasnoww-blog @tastesousweet @ivypoison @disturbedwoodelf @sturnswift @junnniiieee07 @ellie-luvsfics @sturnified @madsdogst @justlivinglive @sluttycupsworld @flowerxbunnie @mbsbaby @sturniolossmut @lustfulslxt @69isabella69 @dracoflaco @mattslatinagf @raekensluver @worldlxvlys @greatooglymooglyyy @breeloveschris @st7rnioioss @imwetforyourmom @sturniolololover @immuneweed @its-jennarose @taco-taco-posts @luverboychris @gracealwaysdisgrace @gamermattsgf @mattscoquette @nervoussagittarius @sugrhigh @jnkvivi @sturnsmia

#sturniolo triplets #matt sturniolo #sturniolo #matt sturniolo x reader #matt x reader #matthew sturniolo #matt sturniolo oneshots #matt sturniolo fanfic #matt sturniolo imagine #matt sturniolo angst #chris sturniolo #nick sturniolo #matt sturniolo fluff #Spotify

[princessbrunette]

the first time deer!reader introduced pope to her parents, she almost couldn’t control herself.

you had no idea what you’d been so nervous about, everything had been perfect. as much as you loved the other pogues, you couldn’t imagine them behaving themselves the way pope did. he was big on etiquette, even bigger on respect — having ‘meeting the parents’ nailed down to an art. he was well educated, polite, loveable — the exact type of guy you want to bring home. you couldn’t be happier.

but something about watching him interact with your family, so eager to please them in order to keep you happy — made you eager to please him, watching him chat away with your folks over the table with your chin in your palm, barely touching your food. as soon as the meal was up, you couldn’t wait to drag him away.

“i think we’re going to go hang out upstairs for a while.” he feels your hand shyly tugging at his pinkie finger and his head whips round to him.

“after that meal i think i gotta do the dishes, atleast. please, sit.” pope whips back round to your mother with a charming smile, making her fawn over his politeness.

“i can’t ask that of you pope, it’s fine i swear — i’m sticking it all in the dishwasher anyway.” your mother refuses as you sway impatiently on your feet behind your boyfriend.

“oh, then i’ll help clear the table.” he shrugs, beginning to pile up plates. “the food was fantastic.” he compliments, following her through to the kitchen. you slump down in the dining seat once more, awaiting his eventual release.

once you finally got your hands on him, you were tripping up the stairs trying to get him to your bedroom faster. “woah, careful.” he catches your waist and it only makes your need worse, shutting the door firmly behind him once he was in. he takes a few steps into the room following you to stand near your dresser, the ghost of an amused and confused smile on his face as he watches you hurry to your speaker, tapping on the first playlist to come up on your spotify — that being his playlist.

as soon as the first note plays, you’re back infront of him, practically diving on him pressing your mouth to his. he lets out a quiet grunt of surprise and confusion as you pant against him, the first song off his playlist loudly obstructing anyone outside the four walls from hearing anything inside them.

“talk to me, what’s going on? brought me up here to kiss?” he pulls away, leaning back making a tiny whine escape the back of your throat. you would have thought you were on borrowed time from the way you gripped his shirt urgently.

“more th’n kiss.” you slur needily, leaning in trying to catch his lips once more. “you were perfect. they love you. you’re perfect.” you whisper and his brows jump up, leaning back once more.

“woahwoahwait— me impressing your parents is what’s turning you on? like actually?” you watch his eyes dance between yours. you pause for a second, catching your breath before nodding violently.

“uh-huh, yes.” you border on a whimper. his face flattens in thought, nodding his head once as it’s clear he’s taking mental note.

“interesting.”

“shh.” you silence him once more with another jump, hands all over him and lips successfully back on his. he melts more into the kiss this time, but before he even has the chance to fully get into it, you’re unlatching — choosing to kiss through his clothes instead, down his chest, down his tummy, sinking to your knees.

he puffs out an exhale through his cheeks, leaning on the wall and bracing his hand on your shelf clumsily, causing a blythe doll to fall from her stand but he effortlessly catches her in his palm, carefully placing her back on the shelf. this somehow made him ten times more attractive and you bite your lip, violently working his belt off as bryson tiller sings, covering all heaving breathing from room.

i say you don’t need nobody else, feels like you don’t got me so you feel like you’ve been by yourself —

you start to mouth at him through his pants, and he’s suddenly bending down to pull you back by the shoulders, wide eyes — like he’d been snapped out of a trance. “holdupholdup— your parents are just downstairs. are you sure this is a good idea?” he stresses, and you combat this by massaging the stress out of his cock through the fabric of his pants, squeezing him with those big bambi eyes that got him so weak.

“just need to suck it, popey.” you plead and he tilts his head back for a second, eyes rolling back.

“oh jesus.” he returns his gaze, brows still knitted in worry. “wait — your mom said dessert would be ready soon.”

“well, i want mine.” you pout your lips, undoing his zipper more to kiss through his boxers. he looks in pain, holding back. “i don’t want anything in return. it’ll be quick.”

he tilts his head with a knowing smirk. “well you already know i have to return the favour. i got manners.”

“we’ll figure it out. stop talkin’ P.” you whine, pulling him out his boxers and drooling on his tip, beginning to massage it down his shaft. he leans against the wall once more, letting out a shaky breath and squeezing his eyes shut.

“i’m dreaming.” he states in disbelief as you get to work, trying to ignore the time ticking away before the two of you would be called back downstairs. you took this as a challenge. you don’t get to be an ex-academic weapon and not enjoy a little time restricted fun.

#divider by fairytopea #pope heyward prompt #deer!reader

[mermaidgirl30]

✨Javi’s Playground✨

A/N: Ahhh I’ve been wanting to write a Javi one shot for a while, and I finally got the inspiration after listening to “Sex & Candy” by Marcy Playground. Thank you to @mountainsandmayhem for helping me come up with a name and beta read so I didn’t chicken out and not post 😘 This is my first time writing Javi, so I’d like as much feedback as I can get 🥰 I tried my best with the Spanish translations.

Summary: Javi decides to blow off some steam at the strip club, but he doesn’t intend to attempt to take one of the dancers home with him.

Pairing: Javier Pena x fem! reader

Word Count: 3.2k

Rating: Explicit (18+ MDNI)

Tags: smut, flirting, Javi goes to a strip club, alcohol, smoking, unprotected p in v, oral, Narcos era, reader is a stripper, reader has long hair, switching POVs, some Spanish (translations at bottom of doc)

Dividers by @saradika-graphics

The glow of the amber lights swirl above his head as a crystal disco ball spins slowly, throwing its sparkly essence into the crowded strip club. This isn’t his normal place, Paradise Cove. It’s only a distraction, a secret alcove to let go of any thoughts of drug lords, innocent bloodshed, Pablo Escobar, or any traces of misery he’s been holding on to over the past treacherous year. This was a place for forgetting, relaxing the mind, indulging in mere fantasies he could only wish to grasp his torn hands around. So he’d drink, smoke, and indulge in beautiful women in peace on this lonely Friday evening. 

   The red walls are smeared with flecks of sparkles, and the atmosphere is bursting with energy and dim lighting. The cool glass of amber whiskey sits in his hand as he gulps down another swig, letting the burn coat his insides as he flicks the small lighter and lights up another Marlboro cigarette. He lets the smoke surround him, fogging his vision as he inhales the nicotine and lets it sit there dwindling around him in a blur. Just for a couple of seconds, just enough to take the edge off of his growing migraine. 

   He throws his head back and exhales, blowing the smoke out as the music changes over to a tune he knows. “Sex & Candy” by Marcy Playground starts to play from the blaring speakers, the song slowly slipping through his ears as he sits up just a little straighter in the black leather chair. 

   The crowd hollers when the next girl takes the stage, low whistles reverberating off the side mahogany tables as the volume of the music picks up. He doesn’t realize what they’re all making a fuss about until he looks up and sees you. The most beautiful girl he’s ever seen. Esplendida. 

   You’re so radiant, the way you strut across the stage in your crystal clear stiletto high heels as you spin in slow motion, running your fingers through your thick, long curls as you look over your shoulder and flirt with the crowd. Your legs are so long, the curve of your thighs begging to be touched as you sway your hips side to side and get lost in the song.

   And then there she was, in platform double suede. Yeah, there she was. Like disco lemonade.

   He can’t help but grip the damp glass in his hands a little too tight as he spreads his legs wide and relaxes into the plush leather, his eyes glued to you as you slide down the pole gracefully. He wets his lips as his tongue glides across his bottom lip, his cigarette burning his flared nostrils as he oogles the way you please the crowd with every single move you make across the reflective stage. 

   He watches the way you push the swell of your breasts up with your delicate hands, eyes the tiny black lingerie set that barely covers your porcelain skin, assesses the way the lacy thong skims across the curve of your hips, and nearly drowns on his sip of bubbling whiskey as you bend down and show off the thick globes of your ass. 

   Javi sets the half empty glass of alcohol down beside him on the little sturdy table and grabs his denim clad knee as he sinks his nails into the fabric, trying to hold himself together as he listens to the track play through the massive club, watching the way you keep turning and finding his searing gaze. 

   I smell sex and candy here. Who’s that lounging in my chair? Who’s that casting devious stares in my direction? Mama, this surely is a dream. 

   His brown eyes blow wide every time you turn and wink his way, casually flirting as you flip your hair and bite your lower lip, sending him spiraling as he feels the blood rush to his cock in his tight jeans, feeling just how hard he is now as his thick cock presses into the metal of the zipper. It’s like you know what you’re doing, sparkling eyes penetrating his gaze as you flirtatiously bat your long mascara coated eyelashes and eye fuck him from the glowing stage, making sure he’s getting exactly what he came her for. To feel good, to indulge in his fantasies, to make him think you want him. But customers don’t get to take strippers home. That’s not how this business works, not how it’s supposed to run, unless… 

   You slide slowly down the metal pole, ending up on the floor of the lit up stage as you spread your legs wide and tease him just a little as you play with the straps of your panties and press your heels into the floor, giving him a view that just about takes him out. He leans his elbows against his knees, rakes a hand through his thick mustache as he groans into the palm of his hand while sweat sticks to his tanned forehead. 

   He loves the view that’s on display, loves the outline of your pussy as he swears he can see wetness pooling there in between your legs while you sit there and tease him with the biggest smirk on your face he’s ever seen in his life. Those red, plump lips, those glistening thighs that deserve to be kissed, that pulsing core that begs to be lapped up. He can see it now, you splayed out on his bed while he fucks you deep, bottoming out as you scream his name, claw at his tanned skin as you beg for more. He’d take care of you. God he would. And fuck does he want to. Gravemente. 

   He can feel the precum sliding against his thick length, can feel just how badly he wants to palm himself through his tight denim as he watches you fall apart on the stage before him. At this point he has no restraint, can barely sit here and watch as you start to crawl on your hands and knees toward him, hypnotizing eyes that lock on his as he leans forward and unfastens the black tie that clings to his button-up white collared shirt. 

   His eyebrows furrow, lips parting unbelievably as you curl your finger and beckon him to come to the side of the stage, your gaze flicking over his figure as he prays you don’t see the erection that’s begging for some kind of release that’d involve hands, or maybe a mouth, a warm tongue…

   He takes another drag of the sweet nicotine and pushes himself out of the leather chair, slowly trudging up to you as he lets his eyes trail generously over your perfect body. When he finally makes it over to the end of the glossy stage, he sees just how beautiful your eyes really are, eyes that were just eye fucking him seconds ago, eyes he’d love to gaze into while he cants his hips against yours roughly. Eyes he could lost in, swim in.

   You smirk his way, letting your hands run through your tousled curls as you flutter thick eyelashes up at him. He digs into the pit of his denim pocket and pulls out a crisp twenty dollar bill as he cautiously slides it inside the lace of your push-up bra, his fingertips grazing the edge of one of your perky breasts as he groans in response. Your skin is so soft, he thinks what you have underneath the lace will be even softer, divine, delicious. 

   You bite your bottom lip flirtatiously and play with the end of his loose tie, letting the silk slip through your fingertips as he watches in a blissed out daze. You could’ve chosen anyone to target, could’ve had attention from any of the sleazy men in this nightclub, but you chose him. The one with the flecks of honey eyes, the one that couldn’t keep his eyes off you for one second, the handsome stranger who must’ve been new to this place. 

   “You new here?” you ask curiously as you eye his stance, watching the way his eyes seem to light with burning fire every time he even dares to look your way. 

   “Been here once or twice before, but this is the first time I’m seeing you, hermosa.” He lets his dark eyes slide down your body, a smirk curling across his plush lips as he leans in closer, until you can smell the tinge of nicotine lacing through his taste buds. “You sure look good up on that stage, amar. Prettiest thing I’ve seen in a city like San Francisco.”

   “Oh? You like what you see?” you blush as you hang your legs off the end of the stage, just enough to brush his thighs as you feel how strong they are. 

   “Oh, I like what I see alright. Follando perfecta.”

   You feel your cheeks burn bright red, feel your thighs clench up as you see how thick his fingers are, how dark and ravenous his eyes look, how hard he is underneath the fabric of his tight jeans. You don’t ever get this wound up about customers, but something about well dressed, smoldering men makes you want to lose all dignity and throw yourself at him. He must be so good in bed. With the way he’s staring at you, all hot and bothered, he may as well just carry you out of this club. Even if it’s technically against the rules. 

   “What’s your name, handsome?” you ask as you brush your heels against the side of his ankles and watch him tense up under your touch. 

   “Javier. Just call me Javi for short, though. And yours, hermosa?” You tell him your name, your real name, not your stripper name, even if that’s against the rules, too. You clearly don’t care about any fucking rules at this point. 

   “Ahh, that’s a gorgeous name. Telling me your real name, yeah? Aren’t you a little rule breaker,” he teases as he cocks up a thick eyebrow and slides his thumb over his lips as he brushes against his thick mustache. You wonder what it’d feel like with his mouth covering your core, his mustache brushing over your swollen clit as he licks and licks until you come apart on his large tongue. 

   You pull yourself out of ridiculous wet fantasies and watch the smoke fall off his tongue. “I live to break rules,” you tease as you pull him closer, catching the end of his black tie as he’s so close now that you can see the embers of brown flecks scatter across his dark eyes. He’s so handsome, you think you want to go home with him. 

   “That right, hermosa?” he asks as he takes another long drag of his cigarette and blows the smoke away from your face as that smug smirk still encases his playful teasing. 

   “That’s right,” you giggle as you gently curl your fingers over the wrist that holds the burning cigarette. 

   He watches you carefully, eyes full of trouble as he puffs out a breath and fills your nostrils with the stench of whiskey and nicotine. “What do you say, hermosa? Wanna take a tour of my bedroom tonight?”

   You carefully snag his lit cigarette from his outstretched hand and slide it in between your crimson lips, taking a slow drag of the cigarette as he watches you with dark, wide eyes and parted lips that shine with the gleam of amber colored whiskey. You gently blow out the smoke in his face and lean forward as you wrap your manicured fingers around his loosened tie. “You can give me money, yes, but what else? I have plenty of money. What is it that you want, handsome?”

   He grabs the cigarette from your open hand and takes a whiff of the nicotine, letting it blow right back into your face as you smell whiskey, smoke, and trouble fill your lungs.

   “Te deseo…” He says it slowly, meticulously like it’s the most sensual thing he’s ever said to a woman before. You don’t know what it means, but it damn sure sounds like you need to say yes. 

   Your eyebrows raise as you smile wide his way. “I don’t speak Spanish, handsome. But I think I want to say yes. Wanna indulge me in what exactly it is you want?”

   He takes another slow drag of his cigarette as he smirks your way. “I want you, hermosa. In my bed, underneath my body, so I can fuck you fast and hard. Wanna rip off that lace and devour your sweet pussy until I have you coming apart on my tongue. Wanna make love to the beauty that stole my heart away tonight.”

   Your breath hitches as you gasp out of breath, not realizing you clutched onto his leather belt and clenched your sticky thighs together as slick pools warmly in your lace. You should’ve known he was a handsome menace the first moment you saw him sitting there with his glass of cold whiskey and lit up cigarette. You should’ve fucking guessed. 

   His body is now too close to yours, chest pressed against yours as you stand shakily off the stage and feel just how bad he wants you through the fabric of his tight jeans. You can see that way his dark eyes flick over yours, feel the heavy breaths coming from his broad chest, smell the stench of trouble and nicotine lacing around your wrists as he slowly grabs a strand of hair and whispers your name into the shell of your ear. 

   It’s almost too much, almost enough to get you fired right on the spot until the music suddenly changes to a Rhianna song, signaling it was time for the next dancer to come out. You abruptly pull away from him as you feel the tension sit thick in the air, almost like a fog takes over and you can’t see anything clearly anymore. 

   It’s your time to go, to mingle with other clients, and he knows that, you can see it in the understanding of those big chocolate eyes that stare adamantly at you. You give him a flirtatious wave and brush up against his large arm as you whisper up to him, “I get off in an hour. Meet me in the back.”

   He watches you saunter off, half smiling as he realizes he got the girl. He never misses, almost never gets turned down, but this one he might want to see again. He can already tell he’ll want you to stick around, maybe even make you his. Maybe he won’t have to walk this lonely, overbearing life alone anymore. Maybe…. just maybe you’ll stay. Maybe he’ll let you stay. Maybe for a night, a month, a year, forever. 

   The smell of sweat covered bodies, vanilla scents of sensual movements and whiskey clad tongues fill the room as you move at a slow, passionate pace. His meaty hands and smooth tongue are everywhere, sliding down your neck, pulling your pebbled nipples into his warm mouth, and lapping thoroughly at the slick between your sticky thighs. 

   Your moans come in sync. Elated, deafening, ravenous every time he licks a thick stripe over your dripping core. He groans each time you rake your fingers through his mess of dark locks, your pleasurable moans filling the room every time he pulls your puffy clit into his mouth as his thick fingers curl up into the spongy walls that make you see blinding stars in your vision. He doesn’t stop even after the first time you come for him, spilling all your pent up slick as he laps up every single drop between your thighs. 

   He pulls out another mind blowing orgasm with his experienced tongue alone, and he doesn’t even give you a minute to breathe before he’s splitting you in two with the slick cock that fills you to the brim, bottoming out in you time and time again until you feel him everywhere in your system, like the nicotine and whiskey that fill his lungs night after lonely night. He licks into your mouth, his smooth tongue dancing along with yours until you can’t taste anything but the tang of neat whiskey and toxic nicotine that bleed into your bloodstream, tasting like sweet addiction and danger, a lover in disguise. 

   You’re already close again, almost spilling yourself around his thick cock as he bends your knees back and folds you like an acrobatic so you can feel him deep, rough every single time he snaps his hips against yours and buries his face into your neck with furrowed eyebrows as he sucks and bites against the base of your neck. 

   “Come for me again, hermosa. There you go, such a good fucking girl. Let me feel you again. Squeezing so tight around my fucking cock,” he growls as he guides his thumb down to your clit and starts to circle nice and slow, the pressure building in your spine as you start to let go. 

   “Javi,” you moan as you scratch your long nails down his bare back, clawing at his tanned skin every time he guides his slick cocks inside you, reaching that spongy spot that makes you plead and moan with every thrust of his hips. 

   “Attagirl, hermosa. Tan encantadora,” he pants as sweat covers his glistening forehead. Once, twice, three more tight circles on your bundle of nerves and you’re squeezing his cock, spilling yourself all over him as you moan loudly into his ear as he comes seconds after, throwing his head back as he groans with pleasure as thick ropes of white come paint your insides. 

   He topples over next to you in the damp, twisted sheets and pulls you against his broad chest while his free hand lights a cigarette up while he gets lost in the thick cloud of nicotine and musty sex. While he sucks on the addictive stick of nicotine, his dark eyes wade over you as his lips graze warmly over your sweat covered forehead. 

   “Did so good for me, hermosa. You wanna stay the night? I can get you all cleaned up in the morning, and we can go for breakfast. Maybe eat you out on the kitchen counter while I make you coffee. What do you say, hermosa?”

   You shift closer against his side, sliding your fingers over his glistening chest as his deep breaths fill the void in the spacious room. You flick your eyes up to him and study him, watching the way he inhales smoke and stares warmly down your way, like he’s in a lucid dream just watching the girl of his dreams. “You mean like… you want to keep seeing me? This wasn’t a one time thing?”

   His jaw goes slack as his lips parts open, putting the burning cigarette out on the pale blue ash tray on the edge of his mahogany nightstand. “That’s right, hermosa. A sweet, beautiful, gorgeous girl like you deserves more, and I want to give you that. If you’ll let me.”

   You take in his offer, your fingers threading through his as you crawl over him and graze your swollen red lips against his. “Okay then, Javi. Show me your world.”

   He cups the back of your neck and brings you down to his lips as he slots his tongue between your lipstick smeared lips, pulling you deep into him as you taste every shade of red he can paint you, coating you in desire you’ve only ever dreamed of. 

   He tasted like sex and candy, and you were just getting started. 

If you enjoyed this fic, please consider reblogging or commenting or leaving me asks 🩷

Spanish Translations:

Hermosa - beautiful

Esplendida - gorgeous

Gravemente - badly

Follando perfecta - fucking perfect

Tan Encantadora - so lovely

Tags: @keylimebeag @sawymredfox @littlevenicebitch69 @milla-frenchy @aurorawritestoescape

@vivian-pascal @msjarvis @amyispxnk @jasminedragoon @burntheedges

@akah565 @princesatracionera @rav3n-pascal22 @604to647 @pedrostories

@syd-djarin @tuquoquebrute @r3dheadedwitch

#Javier Pena #javier pena smut #javier pena x reader #javier pena fanfiction #javier pena one shot #javier pena narcos #javier pena x you #Javier Pena Pedro pascal #Pedro pascal #pedro pascal fandom #javier peña #javier pena fic

[daydreams-after-dark]

Pairing: musician!Han x reader… bartender!chan x reader … security guard!Changbin x reader.

Synopsis: Han asks you to meet him in the corridor at a bar. Chan and Changbin join in for the fun.

About a 7 minute read.

This story is moderately unhinged. Porn without plot.

Unhinged level: 🤡🤡🤡🤡

A/n: I couldn’t sleep the other night and thought to myself “what’s a naughty fantasy I could write about that isn’t realistic in the slightest?” but also not fantasy genre (one day I’ll write a non human Han story, promise).

This is what I came up with. Please be safe when having sex. The following isn’t recommended except in delululand where anything goes. 😜

CW: unprotected p in v sex with multiple strangers in a semi public space (a bar) and ppl see // voyeurism // exhibitionism // sub reader // 3Racha cum dump situation // gagging with underwear// mating press kind of// oral sex m rec// slight degradation- they talk like reader isn’t there // size, stretch kink// mild pain kink// I don’t offer a safe word option in this story but I promise reader wants it all (cos I made her up)// like I said it’s not realistic // if you are uncomfortable with any CW please don’t read.

A/n (again): Okay so now that’s out of the way… the scenario that got me hot and bothered…

Oh and by the way way if you want to be tagged in my after dark content because you’re as filthy as me, please let me know 😘

Really… let’s get started… I’m writing this 3 wines in 🤪 so who knows where we’ll end up. 🫣

You sit on a stool at the bar watching the musician on stage. His name’s Han, and he is singing a love song whilst playing his acoustic guitar. He’s fucking gorgeous and you can’t keep your eyes off him.

The bar itself is pretty empty. There’s the bartender. His name tag says “Chan”, a dozen or so patrons and a security guy pacing the entry way. You’re dressed up far more than anyone else here tonight in your short, tight, stretchy boob tube style dress and strappy stilettos.

Han finishes his song, and apparently his set list because he leaves the stage and some random music comes through the speakers. You turn back to face the bar and concentrate on your drink.

That’s when you feel a hand on your thigh. You turn to see who has the audacity, the nerve, to just come up and do that and find it’s none other than Han himself. Your breath catches in your throat. But he doesn’t actually acknowledge you. He just reaches over the bar, grabs a pen and scribbles something on the back of a coaster and pushes it in front of you. Then after a knowing, silent exchange with Chan, Han is gone.

You look down at the coaster to see a note, an invitation, just for you.

Meet me in the corridor in three minutes.

Corridor? You look around the bar.

“He means the corridor outside the bathrooms.” Chan informs you, like he’s seen this play out before. Oh? So Han does this often? You wonder for half a second, until your feel your pussy throb. You’d better listen to your pussy, you tell yourself.

…..

He’s waiting against the wall outside the bathrooms. Just like Chan said.

You take deep breath and bravely walk up to stand in front of him. He smells intoxicating.

“Hey?” You say quietly.

“Hey, baby.” He replies in a deep, husky voice.

You take a step towards him but in one swift move he turns you around and presses you against the wall.

You cry out in surprise at the forcefulness, then moan into his mouth when he crashes his lips on yours. His hands slide down your sides and then grope your ass as he presses himself against you.

You feel your body spark with arousal as he makes out with you in a rough, urgent way. His hands move down to then reach up under the hem of your dress. He slowly inches it up beginning to expose your ass. You pull away from the kiss and he moves his mouth to your neck.

“M-maybe…we should…take it to the bathroom?” You say.

Han nibbles your ear, his hands cup your bare ass cheeks. “Here’s just fine, baby.” He whispers.

“What?” You yelp.

“I’m gonna fuck you right here, not in a filthy toilet.” He grinds against you again and he’s so fucking hard it makes your cunt ache.

You see two women come out of the ladies room and glance over to where you are in the hall. They throw you an encouraging glance and throw a fist in the air to say “you go girl.”

“W-what about protection? You got something?” You pant. He’s really getting to you, and if he were to touch you right there, he’d know how ready you are for him to fill you with his cock.

His hands pull your dress up further exposing your red thong, and he hooks his hands into the sides of your underwear and peels them down your thighs.

You can hardly believe what’s happening when he’s dropped down momentarily to pick them up off the floor.

“Baby,” his voice is serious as his mouth inches closer to your cheek. “You’re asking too many questions. Just do as I say.” He shoves your panties into your mouth. Your eyes widen in surprise.

“Now listen.” He kisses your neck softly and his hands come back to squeeze at your ass. “I’m gonna fuck you raw.” Another kiss to the corner of your mouth this time. “And I’m not gonna pull out.” He yanks your panties out of your mouth. “You understand?”

Your body feels like jelly. His words are turning you on far too easily. You nod vigorously. “Yes. I understand.” You gasp. The panties are pushed back into your mouth and Han smirks at you.

“You’re such a good girl.” He caresses your body. You’re melting under his touch. “I saw you watching me.” His fingers tease the edge of your pussy. You need him to touch you so bad. You feel a thrill knowing you’re naked from the waist down and your dress up around your waist - In a public hallway for fucks sake. Anyone could stumble across you. It makes your pussy squeeze.

You wrap your arms around his neck and begin to grind yourself against his clothed crotch, trying to get him to touch you already.

He slips his fingers between your legs and slides his finger along your pussy. “Fuck baby. I gotta fuck you right now.”

His hands leave your body to undo his pants and release his cock. You don’t even get to see it because he’s lifting you up and your legs automatically wrap around him. He presses you against the wall at the same time he manages to plunge deep into your cunt. You cry out around the panties in your mouth.

He’s inside of you. Fucking you raw just like he said he was going to. He fucks you deep and slow, leaning in close against you and breathing ragged breaths. “Fuck, you feel good… knew your pussy would feel perfect around my cock.” He panted.

Your eyes roll back into your head as this man you’ve barely exchanged two words with is fucking you better than anyone has in a long time.

A few minutes pass and you’re feeling delirious from the relentless pace Han has built up to and you close your eyes, relishing the feeling of being used like this.

You open your eyes to see two men approaching, and you’re startled for a second until you realise who they are.

Chan and the security guard, Changbin is what his name tag says. Fuck you’re going to be kicked out. Banned for life.

But they’re not here to kick you out. Chan comes up to your left, Changbin on your right.

“So you’ve found Han I see.” Chan notes as he breathes on your cheek.

“She’s an eager one. Look at her with her pussy out on display.” Changbin growls.

“Does she feel good, Han?” Chan asks.

“Fuck, yeah! She’s so tight. Such good pussy.” He pants and thrusts harder causing you to whimper.

Chan and Changbin start to kiss your neck, nip your earlobes, breath hot heavy on your skin. The additional physical contact, and just the scenario itself, makes your core tighten. Your orgasm is approaching, you can feel it building rapidly.

“Fuck, look at her responding! She likes the idea of three guys huh?” Changbin notes.

“Hey Hannie, let’s help you out a bit, yeah?” Chan smirks.

Chan and Changbin hook an arm under each of your legs, holding you up and essentially pinning you to the wall behind you. Your arms automatically hold onto their shoulders, as they continue to bury their faces in your neck.

Han pulls out of you the whole way and takes in the sight before him.

“Fuck! Look at her pussy. It’s dripping.” He says.

The two others look down and moan and curse under their breath. Han runs his hands along your inner thighs, pushing them wider. Chan and Changbin pull your legs out as far as they can and then push your bent knees up higher. It’s like they’re trying to get you into as close as a mating press as possible.

“Han, you should get her tits out too.” Changbin suggests. Han obliges and yanks down your strapless dress, spilling your breasts out. It causes a commotion as their hands start to grope and knead them.

Han steps closer, ready to penetrate you again. “This is gonna be so deep, baby.” He pushes his cock back inside you and cups the underside of your ass for leverage.

It is so fucking deep that you swear you can feel him in your throat. He slams into you time and time again. It hurts, but in the most satisfying way. Tears prickle at your eyes from how good you’re being fucked and then you cry out around your panties as you orgasm.

“Shit…shit…fuck…baby…so…slippery…” Han pistons into you frantically. “Fuck I’m cumming, baby.” You feel his release deep inside you, against your cervix, leaving you both panting as you try to catch your breath.

He pulls out, removes your panties from your mouth and uses it to catch his cum that starts to seep out of your hole. Once he’s satisfied, he balls up the underwear and shoves it back in your mouth.

“My turn.” Says Changbin. He swaps places with Han. They continue to hold you in this position as Changbin lines his cock up with your entrance. He’s thicker than Han and the stretch makes you moan a deep guttural sound.

“Yeah, you like Binnie’s cock, hmm?” Chan cooes. “Didn’t know she’d be such a cockslut when I served her drinks.” He added.

“I could tell.” Han replies and licks the skin on your neck.

You’re loving the way they’re talking about you like you’re not there or can’t hear them.

Changbin sets a slow and steady pace, but the way he angles his cock at the end of each thrust sends jolts of pleasure through you. He doesn’t change pace or intensity the entire time he’s fucking you. It’s relentless, excruciating, frustrating that he won’t go faster. You can’t do anything about it because you’re pinned in place.

You sob around the panties in your mouth and your mascara is running down your face as you cry. You need to cum again.

You feel fingers encroach your asshole and start to explore you there. Please don’t tease me. You think to yourself. You don’t know whose fingers they are, but when one squeezes into your tight hole, you cum instantly.

“Fuck! She’s cum again. Such a good girl.” Han praised you.

“Shit, she clamps down hard doesn’t she?” Changbin growls. He suddenly pulls out and coats your inner thighs with his cum.

Again, your panties are removed and used to wipe up as much cum off you as possible and then it’s put back in your mouth.

They release you and help steady you on your feet. Han and Changbin continue to kiss and caress, squeeze and nip at your body.

“My turn now, babygirl.” Chan says pulling a chair into the hallway. He sits himself on the chair, holding his erect cock in his hand. It’s enormous, and you’re not sure how you’re going to manage it.

“Come, sit on my cock. I want to feel if you’re as tight as these two are saying.”

You carefully straddle Chan, facing away from him so the other two can get a full view, and lower yourself over his cock. He stretches you so wide as you slowly sink down. Once you reach halfway you stop. It’s not going to fit.

“You’ve got a bit more to go, sweetheart. Do you need help?” He grabs hold of your hips and pulls you down the rest of the way. You whimper. It’s too deep. He’s too big.

“Now babygirl, you’re gonna fuck yourself on me. Make me cum.” He growls.

You press your stilettos into the carpet and start to bounce on Chan’s cock. The impact against your cervix is brutal and you cry out each time his cock makes contact with it.

You’re not sure how much you can take, but you want to be a good girl, you want to please them. You want to show them you make Chan cum. You ride him wildly with all the enthusiasm you can. Just like in the porn you love to watch. You reach down and rub at your clit, and your other hand comes to your breast. You want to put on a show.

“Fuck, look how red and swollen her cunt is!” Changbin stares at where you and Chan are connected, dick in his hand.

“Makes me want to fuck her again.” Han declares as he pumps his own hardening cock. “Bet it’s twice as tight now.”

They’re right. You are swollen and sore, but it feels so fucking good and you can’t stop.

You reach out, ushering Han and Changbin closer. They step forward and you wrap your hands around their cocks.

Chan’s hands wrap around your front so he can grab onto both of your tits, and Han reaches down to play with your clit.

“That’s the way baby. Your hand feels so good around my cock.” Moans Han.

“How does her cunt feel, Chan?” Asks Changbin.

“Tiny. Feels like I’m gonna split her in two. Fuck, I wanna break her little cunt.”

That was enough. Those obscene words took you over the edge and you were cumming again. Harder than ever.

“Babygirl, I’m close! Fuckin’ milk me. Make me cum. Yes. Yes. Good… fucking pussy…suck it all out me… There you go. There you go.” chan groans, filling you up.

“Quick. Kneel on the floor.” He’s is quick to shove you off his cock.

You kneel on the floor as instructed, and continue to pump Han and Changbin as they stand in front of you. Han rips your panties out of your mouth only to stuff it with his cock. Changbin holds the back of your head while Han fucks your throat. He’s not gentle and you gag. It seems to spur him on, each thrust deeper into your throat. Then he pulls out to tell Changbin do the same.

They take turns like this for a while, even attempting to stick them both in your mouth at once, with Chan slouched on the chair working on getting himself hard again.

Han and Changbin release you and admire the saliva, tears and smeared mascara all over your face.

Then the the three of them stand in front of you pumping their cocks.

“Okay, baby. You ready? Keep your mouth and eyes open for us.” Chan says.

You open your mouth wide and do your best to keep your eyes open as Han, Changbin and Chan shoot ropes of cum all over your face. Some gets in your mouth, but most of it lands on your cheek, eyebrows and caught in your eyelashes.

Fuck you looked like a cum dump with a bucketload on your face, and Chan’s cum running down your leg.

“So fucking pretty.” Han smears the cum around your face.

Your panties are again used to wipe your face, but they are so wet that it can’t absorb anything else.

Chan comes behind you and scoops up some of the leaking cum and pushes it back inside you.

Then they get you to stand up and put your cum-filled panties back on. They feel so wet and dirty. You fix your dress, pulling it back down over your ass and up over your tits.

You look around to find the men are gone.

“Well fuck me!” You say out loud.

“Well I hope I can again.” Han says a he comes out of the bathroom with paper towel. He wipes your face to get the remaining cum off your skin.

“I’m hoping you’ll come back to mine. I still have one more hole to fuck, and I really want to take my time with it.”

////

@kangnina @noellllslut @channieandhisgoonsquad @weareapackofstrays @itshannjisung

#skz smut #han jisung smut #3racha x y/n #3racha smut #chan smut #changbin smut #sorshas fic

[i-trash-about-things]

Eddie's shitty sense of humor strikes again.

A random blurb that came to me after reading some headcannons about Eddie's childish sense of humor

777 words (nice). Suggestive but nothing happens. Reader has hair long enough to tug. GN!Reader and Ed are best friends. Swear word count: 4. English is not my first language! Sorry if something doesn't make sense and feel free to correct me! (Repost because Tumblr flunked the last time I tried posting this)

If you wanna be Eddie Munson’s friend, you’ve gotta learn a few rules. Handle his guitar with care, or else he’ll bash it in the side of your head. If W.A.S.P. is on, you do not skip a single song.

You know all of these, better than anyone with you being his best friend. His partner in crime, the one that always gets him out of trouble– or gets into trouble with him.

But there’s one rule you know better than all of the rest.

Eddie is nothing if not a damn clown.

Loud, potentially annoying, and will crack a joke like he can’t hold it back. Be it an awkward one liner at a funeral, a sarcastic remark in the middle of class or a genuine good joke in the middle of a campaign– His mouth is moving faster than his brain, and all that leaves his lips is absolute tomfoolery.

You know it, your friends know it, all of Hawkins knows it.

And an example of this behavior is that fact he can’t see any one of his friends bending down to fetch whatever fell without pretending to hump against their ass, groaning and moaning so exaggerated you never know if you wanna laugh or cringe.

Shameless.

It is kinda funny when Gareth gets all pissy afterwards, tho.

But, even though you and Eds have been friends for the good part of 4 years now– he never did this to you. Not because he didn’t want to or because it’d be weird, but because he just never had the chance.

You, differently from most people, doesn’t tend to bend down to reach something. You just crouch. Or kneel, when the moment calls for it.

It’s just something you’ve been doing since forever, so you’re more used to it. Mindless, instinct, really.

But the past few weeks, you think Eddie’s been trying to get you to bend down– like he wants to get a completion prize for humping everyone in the Hellfire Club (with the exception of the sheepies, duh). He drops his pick mid practice, asks for you to grab a figurine stacked on the box near the foot of his bed– anything, just to get you to bend over.

So far? No such luck.

But Eddie isn’t anything if not committed to the bit. So, one day, the opportunity shows itself for him and he takes it.

It wasn’t even on purpose, really. He was just getting ready to go out, both of you gathering your coats by the front door of his trailer so you wouldn’t freeze your butts off–

“Oh, hey– wait.” Your hand leaves the sleeve of your hoodie, instead reaching for him to stop moving. Your face is down, eyes on the floor, and he raises an eyebrow. “I think there’s something stuck to your shoe. Hol’ up.”

And before he has the chance to freak out in worry if it’s a spider– you’re kneeling between his feet, tugging on whatever it is stuck to his sneakers.

And, like a match dropped into gasoline, he sees his chance and goes for it.

You don’t have the chance to raise your face before you feel familiar fingers tangling into the front of your hairline, tugging your head up roughly– and Eddie let’s out an exaggerated, throaty groan, half-heartedly moving his hips that are eye level to you.

“Mmph! Oh, fuck yeah, sweetheart, just like that!” He cackles, biting his lip and tilting his head back for that extra effect… But pauses when he doesn’t hear you laughing or groaning in annoyance at his shenanigans.

So he looks back down… And something about the smirk on your face makes his heart skip a beat.

Despite the crude and sexual joke, you don’t look embarrassed in the slightest– much less uncomfortable, which was Eddie’s original fear. No… No, you look amused.

Smug.

There’s something about the way your eyes are halflided, full of mirth as you look up at him from your spot by the floor. The shit eating tilt to your smirk has a shiver running down his spine, and his grip on your hair instinctively loosens. Amused, confident even– even while literally kneeling by his feet.

Jesus H. Christ.

“You’re a dumb ass, Munson, you know that?” You say, the slight tilt to your words hinting at an affectionate tone that has him swallowing the dryness on the back of his throat. He almost doesn’t hear you over the sound of the blood rushing from his head down south.

“I live to entertain.” He hears himself say, and for once he thanks the fact his mouth moves faster than his brain.

#hopefully tumblr won't fuck this post up this fime around #eddie munson x reader #eddie x reader #eddie munson x you #YOU #YES YOU #suggestive #trash's writing tag o/

[alittlebitofsainz]

you’re just a boy (and i’m kinda the man)

prompt: “i’m on a one-way trip to take over the world, and i thought you did, but you don’t understand.”

pairing: daniel ricciardo x reader

summary: daniel leaves mclaren, and you decide to put your career first, at the cost of the person you love.

a/n: genuinely made myself sad with this one, sorry :( song is by maisie peters!

masterlist | the spotify wrapped collection

“I just don’t understand how you can stay with them after everything they’ve put you through.”

you ran a hand through your hair, exasperated.

“that’s just it, danny, you don’t understand.” you sighed, slumping forward on the desk, your elbow resting on the surface and your head resting in your hand. the other hand was gripping the phone held to your ear. “this is my career, it’s my entire life. I might not get another opportunity.”

“you know it’s the same for me, right?” daniel’s voice crackled through the phone after a few moments of silence, his volume quieter now. “this is the end of my career, probably. but it’s gotta be better than staying with mclaren.”

you shook your head, even though he couldn’t see.

“but you’re you, danny. you’ll get another chance, I’m sure. you’re one of the biggest faces in this sport.” you sighed again, “but I’m just me. no one is gonna offer me a second chance.” you tried to explain, raising your head slightly to glance at the rain softly hitting the window.

you heard him mutter something inaudible on the other end of the line, the words obscured by the static of the airwaves. you knew he hated when you did that, talked down about yourself. you’d lost count of the number of times the two of you had sat shoulder to shoulder in your drivers room, trying to boost each others spirits after a bad race. daniel was your teammate, your closest friend, your partner in crime, the love of your life. he’d always been able to see things from your point of view. why couldn’t he understand this decision? a conversation from a few months ago drifted through your mind. whatever we do, we do it together. you’d been the one to say that, and now look at you; reluctant to follow daniel into the unknown because you were scared. scared of the uncertainty. scared of losing your one shot at this career. you’d meant what you’d said at the time, but… no. you couldn’t do it. daniel was nearly the best thing that had ever happened to you, second only to earning a seat in formula one. that had to come first. you had to put yourself first. but it didn’t seem to make this phone call any easier. god, you wished you weren’t hundreds of miles away.

“just think, me, you, the outback. we’ll have all the time for dirt bikes and beach trips that you could possibly want.” daniel’s voice brought you back to the present. you could hear the crack in his voice as he tried to persuade you, the one that told you he already knew this was a losing battle. he was losing you. you tilted your head back, looking up at the ceiling; for the first time you were actually glad that this was all happening over a phone call, that daniel couldn’t see the tears forming on your lower lash line.

“I can’t, danny. you know I can’t.” even if daniel couldn’t see you crying, you were being optimistic if you hoped he couldn’t hear it in your voice.

“I know.” he sighed, the noise soft, quiet. there was silence on the line for just a moment, and you felt inclined to fill it, terrified that the conversation was already drawing to a close. you didn’t want daniel to hang up. you didn’t want to believe that this could all be over just like that.

“I’m really sorry, dan.” you apologised, saying anything to try and keep the momentum of the conversation.

“you don’t need to apologise. it’s not your fault.” came his predictable reply, but his tone was missing the kindness, the affection, you’d come to expect from a phone call with daniel. his voice was flat, monotone, and you found yourself unable to read how he was feeling. it had been a long time since that had happened; you and daniel always used to be on the same wavelength. it felt alien, like you were out of your depth. was he angry? upset? did he just not care anymore?

“we can still make this work, can’t we?”

you’d been avoiding the question, but now there was nothing left to say but that. the pause on the other end of the line didn’t fill you with confidence.

“I want to, god, you don’t even understand how much I want to.” came daniel’s reply, voice no longer monotone, instead betraying the emotions he was feeling. you winced as you could almost hear the ‘but’ on the end of his sentence.

“we can try, right? like, I can come visit you over christmas, then next year you’ll probably be at some of the race weekends anyway, and then I can try and get away from training during summer break…”

the more you spoke, the more you realised how hopeless this was. how could you expect to put enough effort into this relationship when you only had a few weekends spare per year? how could you expect daniel to come and watch and cheer for you at each race weekend, knowing that you were living his dream and he was stuck on the sidelines? your voice faltered as it trailed off, the realisation hitting you. fuck. this was it.

“please don’t make this any harder than it needs to be, y/n.”

you’d never heard daniel’s voice so quiet, with so little power behind it. you didn’t know whether you were even pleased that he was as devastated as you were about all this: how could this be the right decision when neither one of you wanted it? such was the reality of this sport. you swallowed thickly - daniel was right, there was no point in drawing this out, making it difficult. you wouldn’t be reduced to begging; at least you could walk away from this with your pride, if nothing else. you wiped a tear from your cheek with the heel of your free hand, the other gripping the phone so tightly that your knuckles turned white, holding onto it like a lifeline.

“no, you’re right. I’m sorry.” you mumbled in reply, once again glancing up at the ceiling to try and stem the flow of tears. you tried not to picture daniel doing the same thing on the end of the phone; it would only make you cry again.

“I’ll, uh, I’ll catch you at races and stuff, next year.” the finality in daniel’s voice made you draw in a shaky breath, steeling yourself for the aftermath. at least you and daniel had never gone public, you were grateful for that much. still, you’d been best friends in the eyes of the public, practically joined at the hip. people would notice when you no longer spent any time together. you tried to park that thought as your mind started to race; there would be time to deal with all of that later.

“yeah. I’ll see you around.” you couldn’t believe this was the way it would end. I’ll see you around. as if you hadn’t spent the last year and a half in each others pockets. as if every kiss and every I love you meant nothing now. as if you hadn’t spent long nights planning out your future together. none of it mattered now, you realised, tears threatening to fall once again.

“I loved you, y/n. never forget that.”

it felt like your throat closed up at that, unable to dignify daniel’s words with a suitable response. there was so much more you wanted to tell him, wanted to say, but you couldn’t even manage to say it back. you bit your lip, letting silence fill the call for one last time, before pulling your phone away from your ear and hitting the button to hang up.

a tear hit the screen of your phone right next to the daniel’s contact name, before the call ended, and his name disappeared.

#daniel ricciardo #daniel riccardo x reader #daniel ricciardo x y/n #daniel ricciardo x you #f1 x reader #f1 x you #f1 x y/n #f1 fic #f1 imagine

[keen-li]

What you need | 01

Synopsis: everybody needs, but how do you define need?

Do you even know what you need.

Genre: best friends au, angst, fluff, smut, slow burn.

Jungkook x reader.

Prev | next

-

The last thing you’d want to being doing while going through a break-up, is walking into this building and putting more energy, which you don’t have, into pretending like you’re okay.

When you’re in fact not.

You have to deal with a raging hangover, because you thought it would be a great idea to drown your misery with some alcohol. All night long. loneliness has its gross skinny little fingers around you.

This break-up is fucking you up sideways. If not in all ways.

‘’what happened to you?’’ your head throbs harder at the sound of that heavy voice.

‘’what do you want?’’ you murmur out and your fingers get to work with rubbing your temples.

‘’i wanna know what happened to you?’’ you know his question is far from caring or interested in your well being.

Your tiny office feels more claustrophobic with the way he just seems to hover over.

‘’look hoseok, I’m a little out of it today’’ you don’t even stare at him ‘’so i can’t provide you with any witty comeback, sorry’’

For a split, single particle of light second; he feels bad for you. But then he remembers:

‘’whether you’re in or out of it, you’ve got work.’’ He slaps a file on your table ‘’get working’’

You know hoseok is one of your headaches and he always proves how he’s so great at it.

You stare at your desk as your head pounds with another problem.

You’ve stayed so long at this desk you can draw every inch of it from memory. And you’d be a master at adding the little cracks, dents and scratch details. Plus every memory of hoseok’s nagging witty remarks linger in this office area everymoment.

You really want a new office. And you day when you do get one, you’ll make sure hoseok never visits it and contaminates it with his presence.

Urgh

You groan as you pick up the file he’s just given you. This headache’s probably gonna kill you before you get a chance to.

-

‘’well, well well’’ jungkook rolls his eyes ‘’look who decided to come to work today’’

‘’good morning Isabel, you didn’t have to do all this but i appreciate the warm welcome’’ jungkook spits out sarcastically in a sing-song voice.

Isabel scoffs.

‘’is your mother feeling better now?’’

‘’what are you talking- oh’’ jungkook catches himself, but it’s too late.

‘’oh my gosh i knew it’’ she declares ‘’you’re such a liar’’ she lets out a soft chuckle.

‘’i knew you weren’t asking for a day off cause your mother was sick’’

‘’how could you have known that’’ jungkook says taking off his shirt and Isabel can’t help but ogle.

‘’i just know’’ she folds her arms over her chest, her long straight hair getting caught in her arms.

‘’why didn’t you tell me you needed a day off, you don’t have to lie’’ she stops herself from licking her lip in fear of ruining her red lips.

‘’you know i can do that for you’’

Jungkook grins as he pulls up his work suit pants. It would’ve been uncomfortable if jungkook wasn’t used to Isabel being around while he got dressed. He secretly believes she does it on purpose to be in the dressing room when he’s getting dressed.

‘’well i did cause a friend needed me, i doubt those grounds stand for a day off’’ he finally just says it knowing she won’t do anything about it.

She hums ‘’which friend?’’

‘’does it matter?’’ he throws a white tee over his head.

It doesn’t, but she just wanted to know if her thoughts are right.

‘’YN’’

She only hums, her perfectly tweezed eyebrows rising. He can’t decipher what the meaning of it but it doesn’t matter. She’s heard your name from him but never seen you, he talks so fondly of you she’s just so curious to meet you.

‘’okay then get to work making up for the day you missed. A client’s coming in with his car’’

Jungkook already knows cause said client called him a million times to find out where he was.

‘’so about asking for a day off...’’ jungkook puts on his best charming smile.

‘’it’s not gonna happen jeon’’ she turns to walk away. But not without biting her inner cheek, if she was staring at jungkook she would fold.

‘’what happened to the ‘you know i can do that for you’ ‘’ she blushes.

‘’it’s never gonna happen. Not today at least’’ she whispers the last part.

Jungkook laughs and licks his lips as he watches her walk away. Sometimes it was fun coming to work.

-

‘’and that’s why this model’s perfect for you and your family’’ you walk around the car to the open door. ‘’you can place up to three car seats in the back’’ you stretch you arm to point and direct your client’s eyes to where you want them to be.

You stare at her blank face and you know she’s not convinced. But that’s your job; to convince and sale.

‘’if you’re worried about clean up, the interior material is one; even liquids. vacuum away from clean and the seats are wipeable’’

‘’actually the carpet, does not stain’’ you add.

‘’oh that’s really nice, cause my kids are messy when it comes to food.’’ She laughs and you laugh as well.

Most of the time you laugh only because you have to. You hear the same things every day and speak to the same type of people everyday. You know every type of person that walks through those glass doors.

‘’i think I’ve heard enough, I’m convinced’’

‘’i’ll take the car’’ those words are like music to your ears and medicine for your headache.

‘’Great, then let me just get the papers ready’’

This was one of the reasons you liked and preferred to work with women, they’re are easy to convince when it comes to buying a car and are great listeners to what you say. Unlike men who just want to argue and question your knowledge on cars. It always makes you laugh when you see them try and show you that they know more than you (not that they do, you’ll always one-up them)

And in all fairness women loved to work with you cause they know they can trust a woman. And men only want to work with you to put you down and ogle at you.

Even hoseok knew this and that’s why he always gives you female clients. You’re shocked he doesn’t give you only males just to piss you off. If you never knew him well you’d think he had a heart.

You’re walking back to your desk when you see hoseok approach you from the corner of you eye.

‘’You don’t need to worry i sold the car’’ you say not stopping in your tracks.

‘’im not worried i knew you would’’

You pause.

‘’is that a compliment Mr Jung’’

He doesn’t respond but that doesn’t stop you from swimming in his rarely spoken compliments.

‘’what do you want? it’s lunch time’’ you go back to your bickering tone.

He stares at his watch.

‘’are you having your lunch from outside of the office’’

‘’yeah, why?’’ you pick up your purse. He knows you always have lunch from outside of the office, so why is he asking.

‘’i have a very important client to give you’’

You really wanna go out and have lunch, cause even though it doesn’t seem like it you still have a headache. But if hoseok said he had an important client for you, then he did.

You honestly need important clients right now.

‘’can it wait for after lunch’’

Hoseok let’s out a bitter chuckle.

‘’this client doesn’t live in Seoul. So he doesn’t have the time to wait’’

He? Ugh.

Who is he for hoseok to be kissing up to him so bad.

‘’if you really want that promotion as bad as you say you do, you’re gonna take him nooow.” He drags out the last word.

He says it so eagerly that now you have to rethink your lunch routine.

Lunchtime is the main time you get in the week to actually see jungkook, since you’re both so busy. It’s like a little routine you both have; helps you spend more time together.

But now you have to reconsider it. jungkook would understand though, since you’ve got a promotion on the line.

‘’yn? Do you want this or not. If not i can-‘’ hoseok presses but a deep hallow voice steps in.

‘’hoseok let her go for lunch, i can wait’’

You both turn and your eyes are met with the most glorious figure of a man you’ve ever seen.

Tall, beefy and muscular. When you stare at hoseok, in question, you can swear he’s ogling too.

Wouldn’t blame him so are you. This man is fine.

‘’Namjoon, you don’t have t-‘’

‘’please, i can move my flight. Let her have lunch’’ your eyes meet as he ends his sentence. You skedaddle your gaze to another part of the room, avoiding his eyes. and your teeth immediately meet your inner upper lip.

You’re not the best at eye contact, it makes you nervous cause it feels like the person can see all the little things you’re keeping secret.

Namjoon smirks as he walks out, ‘’I’ll be waiting when you get back’’

Hoseok doesn’t say or look at you before he’s out too.

-

‘’fuck inishiwekfuoaovw’’

You furrow your brows at a jungkook stuffing his face.

‘’what the fuck are you saying’’ you chuckle out.

He swallows.

‘’ i said, i’ve been thinking this the whole day’’ you wouldn’t have guessed that’s what he was saying.

‘’ i assume you’re talking about your lunch’’ you take a bite of your own, your eyes on jungkook as he lifts his gaze.

If you finish this meal it would be the first full meal you’ve eaten since yunho.

‘’i mean i’ve been thinking about lunch with you too’’ he stares at you from under his eyelashes with wide eyes.

You can't help but smile.

You give him a once-over and can tell by his tan skin he’s been in the sun.

‘’did you carry your sunscreen?’’

He gasps ‘’shit, i forgot. Is my tan obvious” you give him a yes-no nod.

‘’but it looks good’’ you mumble out.

‘’you like it?’’ he lowers his eyes at you and gives you a cheeky smile.

‘’i mean i don’t hate it.’’ Your eyes run across his skin, jungkook can feel your eyes on his skin.

You release a cough, to reset the air. You like it, you won’t say to not give him a bigger head.

‘’i think i should get going’’ jungkook furrows his brows at you then over at your plate.

‘’you haven’t finished your food though ’’ he warns.

‘’i have someone waiting for me at the office, so-‘’ you dare to explain.

‘’-so they can wait until you finish your food. Plus you still have time to eat’’ he points to the clock in the restaurant. You’ve only been here for fifteen minutes.

‘’kook it’s an important client’’ you whine.

‘’and i understand that, but i know you haven’t been eating’’ jungkook sits back in his chair. You have no argument to give, you both know that he’s right. So, you stay silent.

‘’have you?’’ he questions even though he knows he’s right.

‘’jungkook that’s not the point’’ you roll your eyes.

‘’sit down and eat’’ he demands, ’’please’’ he pleads.

You can’t say no, especially with his pleading doe eyes. So you sit and try to finish your food.

You know that he’s doing this cause he cares about you and wants to make sure you’re doing well. But it makes it just much harder to wallow in your misery when he’s baby-ing you

‘’what’s so important about this client anyways’’ he goes back to stuffing his face, the taste of the food encapsulating his taste buds once more.

You hear jungkook speak over your internal turmoil about having to down this food.

‘’hoseok told me its a chance for me to up my chances on a promotion’’ you say informingly. When you actually put your mind to eating the scent of the food causes your stomach to growl. It's savoury taste makes you internally moan as you take it in. Food actually tastes good when you put your mind to it.

‘’Bunny that’s great” he cheers. “Why don’t you sound exciting though’’

You glare at him, ‘’cause you’re forcing me to eat.’’ You’re glad he made you made cause it taste like heaven.

‘’don’t be a baby.’’ He runs his teeth over he’s lower lip.

‘’im not being a baby’’ you mumble out as you pout and prove his point.

Jungkook doesn’t respond and instead watches you eat. His eyes soften at the sight of your cheeks stuffed with food. He knows there’s only so much he can do to help you get over yunho. But whatever he can do he will do, just to see that smile you have on your right now; many more times. He watches you look out the window, and the sun hits you beautifully. And he can’t help but gawk.

‘’what?’’ you smile at doe eyed jungkook, who can’t seem to move his gaze from you.

He shakes his head. ‘’nothing’’ he turns back to his food, the smile not leaving his face.

You roll your eyes. Jungkook’s smile would’ve widened if he saw that. He loves teasing you.

You both appreciate how your friendship has developed from you two avoiding each other and then finally finding comfort in each other’s presence. Jimin really had a tough time getting you two to talk, you’re behaving like two high schoolers he said in his own words. Yes you were but it was more like two high schoolers who’ve never even looked at each put on a class project. But now you’re eating lunch together because you can’t stop talking. You wouldn’t stop being friends with him for anyone.

‘’i forgot to tell you i found a date for you?’’

Jungkook groans at that. He’d hoped you’d forgotten, but you seem more determined than ever.

He gives you a displeased looked.

‘’don’t give me that’’

“if you want me to go on a date, then you’ll have to come watch me train” he declares proudly.

“in what? Boxing?” your brows draw together. Is he actually trying to get you to watching him box.

“Yeah” he hums out enthusiastically.

“Nope” you deadpan.

“Then I’m not going ”

You narrow your eyes at him and he gives you a mischievous smile.

“I’ll see.”

-

♡

#fanfic #jungkook #jungkook x reader #jeon jungguk #jungkook x y/n #bts #jeon jungkook #jungkook au #jungkook fanfic #bts jungkook #jungkook angst #jungkook imagine #jungkook fluff #jungkook smut #jeon jeongguk #jeongguk #jeon jeongkook

[acotars]

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

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

gorgeous harmonies

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

florence welch the woman that you are………

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

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

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

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

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

i can fix him is and cowboy like me are sisters

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

793 dead 1 bazillion injured

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

#taylor swift #the tortured poets department #long post #pers

[slaymitchabernathy]

What Was I Made For?

| this story was inspired by the song ‘What Was I Made For?’ |

| a companion to ‘Pretty’ |

The roundness of her stretched-out stomach brings a mix of emotions to Soarynn’s throat.

She cried when she noticed it. Her period was late. Not that she was used to getting her period altogether, only for a few months. Ever since Coriolanus made her get the implant in her arm removed. He insisted on it, insisted on finishing inside of her and knowing that it could lead to a child of his growing inside of her.

Sometimes she loves it. Loves her child. How could a mother not love her child? She hasn’t even met him yet and she already loves him so dearly.

But on the other hand, she’s deeply terrified. The birth itself scares her the most. She doesn’t have a mother anymore because of her own birth and while she doesn’t think it would affect Coriolanus the way it affected her father, she knows it would be a significant loss nonetheless.

She also worries for her child. Her unborn son. Coriolanus had been elated when they found out that they were having a boy. An heir. A son. Another thing to dangle over her head. She worries about how their son will be treated, that he’ll grow up under the same type of roof that Coriolanus did, and that their child will be a horrible, terrible person who takes advantage of people and their kindness.

Coriolanus knows all about that.

People thought she had been crying tears of joy at their wedding, thought that she was overcome with emotion and she was. Just not in a good way. Watching him slip that ring onto her finger was like watching him slip a noose around her neck.

Soarynn was trapped.

No getting out. Ever.

Being married to Coriolanus was the end of so many things for her. She belonged to him now, mind, body, and soul. He dictated what she wore, what she said, what she ate, and where she went.

Soarynn often looked through old photo albums of her when she was a little girl. Sure she had been a bit awkward but she was happy.

Her fingers trace the pages of one of the albums as she sits in their library, reminiscing on the good times she had before Coriolanus. Most photos just consist of her. No friends or family. But she was okay with that.

She’s sitting in his favorite chair. The chair he sat in while he watched her fall apart over her books burning up in the fireplace. It still leaves a sour taste in her mouth whenever she’s reminded of it. Not that Coriolanus reminds her. He simply moved past it and expected her to do the same.

Soarynn smiles at a photo of her in the backyard of her old townhouse. She has ribbons in her hair and she’s wearing a pink dress with the biggest smile on her face.

“When did it end?” She whispers to herself as she turns to the next page, “All the enjoyment?”

Coriolanus doesn’t like to linger in the past, not when he’s got such a bright future ahead of him. And she really can’t blame him for that. For his ambition. Soarynn has lots of things to blame him for so she put aside his massive ego.

He’s at work right now. Once it hits six o’clock he’ll leave work and be home by six-thirty. Soarynn will serve him dinner and they’ll sit at their dining room table and discuss their days. Coriolanus will tell her about work and Soarynn will tell him about all the places she went to today.

At the beginning of their marriage, Soarynn did her best to ignore going to public events without Coriolanus. Despite how horrible he was, he was a source of stability in hectic scenes such as Capitol parties and social gatherings. Soarynn was more than happy to stay glued to his side as long as she didn’t have to talk to anyone.

But once they got married a certain precedent was set upon her and she was left to go to many of these things alone. Soarynn loved to be alone but going to an art gallery alone was a different thing entirely. Many other high society women would approach her and to their credit, they tried to make small talk. But Soarynn would freeze like a mouse in a trap. Make up some lies and leave early.

She got away with it for a good two months until Coriolanus found it and confronted her about it. “No wife of mine is ever going to be seen leaving an event early ever again. Do you understand me Soarynn?” He’d snarled, grabbing her throat and nearly slamming her into the nearest wall. Soarynn had been terrified of her husband, a man who could now inflict as much pain as he wanted onto her because they both knew she was trapped.

Soarynn had nodded and then she cried. Coriolanus comforted her in that sick twisted way he always did, the same way he did when he took her virginity or burned her books. He had whispered all sorts of deceptive words in her ear after fucking her senseless and then witnessing another breakdown over her books.

Soarynn’s books had been her one escape and he took that from her.

“I know, I know darling,” he had whispered, rubbing his hand up and down her back all whilst still inside of her, “it hurt me more than it hurt you, I need you to understand how hard that was for me Soarynn.”

Soarynn had tuned him out for the most part. She did that a lot lately, just nodding her head and putting on that pretty smile he loved so much. It was much easier when she didn’t argue back, didn’t put up a fuss over something he deemed “so insignificant.”

The grandfather clock in the hallway struck five, pulling Soarynn from her reminiscent thoughts and she slowly shut the album. “We should get ready for dinner,” she says softly, resting her hands on her rather large bump. She’s tried every trick in the book to ensure that their son arrives happy and healthy and that includes talking to him as if he can hear or understand her.

Sometimes it feels like he’s the only one she can talk to, can trust. Coriolanus has turned everyone against her it seems in one way or another.

His mother had told Soarynn all about her pregnancy and how boys were much more difficult to carry than girls in her opinion. She had also been elated to find out that Soarynn was pregnant, that she would soon be gifted a grandchild. Crassus Snow didn’t seem to share the same sentiment, he was pleased but that was about it.

Soarynn slowly pushes herself up from her husband’s chair and rests her hand on the top of it as she steadies herself. Being pregnant was absolutely exhausting. And she had gotten to the stage where she could no longer see or reach her toes. Coriolanus of course, loved this. Loved how helpless she was now that she was pregnant. He loved bathing her, dressing her, slipping on her shoes. And because he was oh-so selfless he even took it upon himself to ensure that she was properly groomed in all places. It was horrible.

Soarynn sucks in a deep breath as a pain shot throughout her ribs. She rubs her stomach, in hopes of alleviating the pain but it persists. Soarynn nervously eyes the telephone that sits on the fireplace’s mantel. She could call Coriolanus at work, but he’d be furious. She’d only done it once to inquire about an event they would be attending later that night and he berated her over the phone and in person once he got home.

“Do not ever call me at work Soarynn. I don’t give a fuck if the penthouse is on fire. There are lots of people you can call before calling me,” he’d said so sternly, grabbing her jaw and forcing her to look him in the eye. She never called again.

But the pain was getting worse and didn’t this constitute an emergency? Soarynn let out a pained moan as she began to feel light-headed. She stumbles towards the fireplace, nearly falling to the floor but she manages to catch the edge of the mantel. “Oh, fuck,” she whispers, resting her head on the mantle's edge, “oh goodness.”

Perhaps she should just go to bed early. Coriolanus will call the doctor who will come tomorrow and most likely prescribe her some vitamins or supplements. Soarynn has taken a plethora of pills throughout this pregnancy, all given to her by the doctor to ensure it goes as smoothly as possible.

That might be her favorite thing about being pregnant. The fact that Coriolanus can’t make her take those awful pills that leave her limp like a ragdoll. He tried to make her take one on the night of their wedding but eventually gave up once he saw how upset it made Soarynn. The wedding itself had been awful enough so to see her newly wedded husband pull out those pills sent her over the edge. Soarynn had experienced what Coriolanus called a “panic attack” where she cried so hard that she couldn’t breathe and then she threw up.

What a wonderful night to remember.

Soarynn lets out another hiss of pain and nearly falls to the floor as her vision turns spotty. If Coriolanus wasn’t so against hiring maids or a cook then Soarynn would have called out to someone for help. But she’s all alone in this place. Besides Petunia who’s fast asleep in their bedroom.

He likes that she's all alone with nothing to do but wait for him to come home.

Something is wrong, something is very wrong but Soarynn's never done this, been through this. Did her own mother ever deal with this? Is this something that happens during pregnancy?

Soarynn feels something trickling down her leg and for a moment she wonders if she's lost all control of her bladder. She heard that can happen when you're pregnant due to the pressure of the baby. She looks down at the floor and nearly throws up when she sees blood running down her leg.

Not an accident, not her water breaking. Blood.

Soarynn chokes out a sob as she grabs for the telephone, her vision becoming more and more spotty as more blood trickles out of her and down her leg onto the hardwood floor. She should call Coriolanus. This constitutes an emergency. But didn't he mention a big meeting that was happening today? What if he gets mad? Or says she's making it into a bigger deal than it is?

More pain shoots through her body and Soarynn cries out, attempting to hold her stomach but failing as her knees buckle out from under her and she's forced to grip the mantel with all her strength. She needs help, needs to call someone. But who? Who does she know? She doesn't have any friends. Not real ones anyway.

And most people are at work. Who does she know that doesn't work? That could help her in this state of emergency?

The Vickers. The Vickers who helped the other Mrs. Snow when she was bleeding out. Soarynn frantically dials their number, praying for someone to answer. She hasn't really spoken to Lysistrata since that one afternoon when Festus called them those nasty names. Coriolanus didn't like her hanging around them so she didn't hang around them. Simple as that.

Soarynn whimpers as the phone rings, and rings, and rings until finally, someone picks up, "Vickers residence, to whom am I speaking?" Soarynn doesn't recognize the voice which means Lysistrata isn't home but she's desperate for anyone at this point. "Hello?" She gasps, the pain causing her to grit her teeth, "Hello this is Soarynn Snow." The line goes silent for a second and Soarynn fears they might have lost a connection. "Soarynn? Soarynn Nightingale?"

Hearing her maiden name is an all too painful reminder of the girl she used to be. Coriolanus took everything from her, including her last name.

"Yes," she says, "yes that's me. I...I need help." In the moment she realizes how crazy she must sound. Coriolanus would be furious if he heard her talking just now, heard how rude and informal she was being but she doesn't quite care at the moment. "What's wrong dear? Is your husband home?" Soarynn nearly laughs at the question because for once she wishes her husband was home. "No," she says, "no he's at work and there's blood and I'm pregnant and," she stops herself for a moment, debating on whether or not to admit her fear, "and I'm scared," she whispers, tears falling down her face.

She's scared for herself, for her baby, and how Coriolanus will react.

Whoever is on the other line begins shouting all sorts of things and Soarynn can hear people in the background, "Soarynn? Soarynn you stay right there sweetheart, okay? We're coming."

Soarynn feels some sort of relief knowing that help is on the way but she's still scared. And what will Coriolanus think when he comes home to find her missing? She needs to call Festus.

Festus is practically her husband's right-hand man, he was the best man at their wedding and he even has a key to their penthouse. Soarynn knows his number by heart. She also knows that he's already home from work. She feels terrible for hanging up the phone but her guilt doesn't stop her from doing it before she's dialing the Creed's number.

Festus thankfully picks up immediately and she can hear him arguing with his wife Persephone, "Just give me a fucking minute Persephone," he hisses, "anyways, sorry about that, what do you need Coriolanus? More drugs? A freakier wife?" Soarynn pales at his vulgar questions but chooses to ignore them for the time being, "Festus," she whispers, her strength fading away by the second. "Soarynn? What's wrong? Is Coriolanus home?"

Soarynn bites back a pained cry and she looks back down to see a pool of blood has accumulated on the floor and she feels herself slowly fading into unconsciousness. "I...I'm having a miscarriage," she whispers before the world goes black.

꧁ ꧂

"Soarynn? Soarynn can you hear me?"

Everything feels so far away. Soarynn can hear people, feel her body being moved but she only sees black.

"...need to go to the hospital..."

She thinks she can hear Festus but she's not sure, everything is moving in slow motion.

She can see flashes of memories in front of her, memories of when she was a little girl, happy and carefree. She sees her younger self running in their backyard, smiling and chasing a butterfly. Soarynn can feel the warm summer breeze on her skin, the grass beneath her bare feet. She watches her younger self roll on the grass, giggling without a care in the world.

Suddenly she stops, she looks up at Soarynn. Neither of them quite knows what to do for a moment before her younger self pushes herself from the ground and runs towards her with a smile on her little face, "You're me!" She says, stopping right in front of Soarynn.

Soarynn swallows and nods, "Yes I am." Her younger self tilts her head, "Why are you here? I don't think you're supposed to be here." She's right, she shouldn't be here and yet here she is.

"Something bad is happening," Soarynn says softly, realizing that this little girl has yet to be subjected to the worst years of her life all by the hands of Coriolanus Snow.

Her younger self frowns, "Well can we fix it? Fix the bad thing?"

Soarynn feels a sad smile tug on her lips at her naive ways of thinking. If only it were that easy to fix. "No," she tells her, "we can't fix it. I'm sorry." She can feel tears in her eyes, "I'm so sorry," she whispers, "so sorry for everything." She wants so badly to protect this little girl, to take her inside and pour her some lemonade and braid her hair.

Her younger self shrugs, "It's okay, whatever you do, it's okay."

Soarynn nods and wipes her tears with the back of her hand, "I should go, I...I have a lot waiting for me when I wake up."

"You should float up," her younger self suggests, "you know how we float in the bathtub?"

Soarynn nods, remembering when she'd fill the bathtub with bubbles and float in the water, imagining she could fly. She can hear a beeping sound, it's from some medical equipment. She has to go.

"I used to float," she says, watching her younger self drift away from her mind.

"Now I just fall down."

꧁ ꧂

Soarynn wakes up in a hospital bed.

It's so bright. She reaches up to shield her eyes and lets out a groan when she feels a strange pain in her stomach. Soarynn looks down at her bump and it's not there. It's not there.

Soarynn feels her bottom lip trembling as she runs her hand over her hospital gown, her stomach smooth as it was before she ever got pregnant. Where is her baby?

She slowly looks up at the foot of her bed and she sees him sitting there, watching her.

Coriolanus.

He's so quiet. There are bags under his eyes. His perfectly styled golden curls are unruly and tangled. The look in his eyes is so hollow.

For a moment neither of them say anything. Words can not convey their grief, their loss. Soarynn likes to think that her baby boy is somewhere safe but she knows that is not the truth. He's not safe in the way she intended at least.

The doctor breaks their silence by knocking and coming into the room, a clipboard in her hand. The woman gives her a sympathetic smile and looks down at Coriolanus, "Why don't you let me talk to your wife for a moment?" Coriolanus silently stands up and leaves the room, not sparing Soarynn a glance.

The doctor closes the door before she sighs, "How are you feeling?"

"Where's my baby?" Soarynn asks, her voice scratchy. The doctor grabs the chair that Coriolanus was sitting in and pulls it up to Soarynn's side before she takes a seat.

"When you were found in your apartment you were lying on the floor, unconscious in a pool of your own blood. The Vickers and the Creeds found you and brought you here where we attempted to save you and your baby. There was...a complication with the pregnancy, undetected until now. We had no choice but to perform an emergency cesarean section to deliver the stillborn child to ensure that you survived."

She survived. Her son did not.

Soarynn is overcome with emotions as she begins to cry, her body racks with her sobs as she grieves the life of her unborn child. "Why...why didn't you save him?" She gasps, looking at the doctor through tears, "You should have saved him and not me." The doctor frowns and shakes her head, gently placing a hand on Soarynn's shoulder, "Mrs. Snow, your life was of more importance. People need you." Soarynn lets out a bitter laugh, "No one needs me."

Her son would have needed her. But he's gone.

"This type of grief is normal, all of this is perfectly normal considering what you've been through," the doctor slowly says, "losing a child is never easy." Soarynn looks around the room, her vision blurry with tears, "Where is he? Where is my baby?"

"Mrs. Snow, it is not suggested that the mother of a deceased newborn sees her ba-"

"I want to see him," Soarynn says, cutting her off. Her voice trembles but she says it, she means it. She gives the doctor a determined look, one she hasn't worn in years. The doctor purses her lips for a moment, "Alright. Would you like your husband to be here to offer you some comfort in your time of grief?"

Soarynn stares at the wall in front of her and shakes her headas she answers, not even hesitating. "It's not what he's made for."

꧁ ꧂

Neither of them says a word as Coriolanus unlocks the doors to their penthouse. Soarynn keeps her head down and rests her hands on her stomach, thinking about the little boy she held in her arms one day ago.

He hadn't been ready, ready to see her, to meet her. He didn't look ready. He was so small, so fragile. The doctor said that he might have been born with a physical deformity if the pregnancy hadn't been fatal. Soarynn wouldn't have cared. She would have loved him with all her heart.

They're both dressed in black. She hears voices as they walk into the penthouse, people are here in the living room. Soarynn rubs her stomach, thinking of the white line that now runs up the middle of her abdomen. The doctor gave her a cream to apply so that the scar would fade completely. Coriolanus will want it gone as soon as possible.

He had only spoken to her once in the hospital after she held their son and they took him away. He'd placed a hand on her head and let out a deep sigh, "What did he look like?" Soarynn had thought for a moment of what to tell her husband who had been as desperate as she was to meet their son. "He looked like a Snow," Soarynn had replied.

That was all they spoke of in regard to their son. Soarynn knew how this would go. Coriolanus would want to move forward as soon as possible. They'd have the funeral and that would be it. This wasn't the first child that the Snow family had lost.

Soarynn feels herself shrinking into her shell as they walk down the hall. All she wants to do is sleep and forget all of this, not talk to people. Coriolanus places his large hand on the small of her back, "Just for a little while," he says as if knowing her aversion to people right now. Soarynn nods, knowing that she doesn't have a choice.

They're greeted by several mournful faces when they finally enter the living room. Her inlaws are here, of course, the Creeds as well. Clemensia is also here along with the Vickers.

"We apologize for the delay," Coriolanus says, his voice distant and hard, "there was a bit of paperwork that needed to be filled out before Soarynn was discharged." He's met with understanding nods, all eyes watching as he leads the two of them to the loveseat in their living room. Soarynn slowly sits down, remembering the doctor advising her to move slowly for the next few weeks.

Mrs. Snow is the first one to speak up, "I'm so sorry my darling."

Soarynn keeps looking down at her lap until Coriolanus nudges her shoulder and she looks up, unable to hide her look of surprise when realizing that Mrs. Snow was talking to her, not her son. Soarynn puts on a small, forced smile, "Thank you."

Festus clears his throat, "So what did the doctor say it was exactly?"

There's an awkward shift in the room but Coriolanus answers his friend, "A chromosome abnormality." Festus widens his eyes slightly before nodding along with his wife. Persephone is pretty, but she's also quite dull in Soarynn's opinion. She's superficial and vapid which makes her perfect for Festus.

"Perhaps it was for the best then," she says softly, giving Festus a knowing look and he nods. Soarynn furrows her eyebrows, "Excuse me?" her voice is sharp, sharper than it's ever been when addressing people.

Persephone swallows and nervously looks around the room but no one meets her eyes, "I mean, clearly your child would have suffered greatly had the pregnancy been successful. He would have been socially hindered in several aspects."

Soarynn doesn't consider herself an angry person but she's downright furious right now. Persephone Creed has some nerve insinuating that her son would have been a social outcast.

She doesn't have to take this, doesn't need this right now. She just lost her son. Soarynn slowly stands up, ignoring the look Coriolanus shoots her. She first walks over the the Vickers who look as uncomfortable as she is right now. Soarynn has no doubt that they were invited out of sheer politeness, especially since they helped save her life. "Thank you for everything," she says gently.

Mrs. Vickers gives her a small smile and reaches out to gently take her hand, "We are truly sorry for your loss, we'll be praying for you and your family." Soarynn nods, she's going to need all the prayers she can get. She pulls her hand away and turns to face the Creeds, those horrible, horrible people.

She can't be mad at Festus. Well, not as much as she'd like to get mad because he did in a way help save her life as well. She focuses in on Persephone who's looking up at her, wide-eyed. Soarynn doesn't hesitate to hold her head up high as she addresses the woman.

"Fuck. You."

She can hear Mrs. Snow gasp but Soarynn pays her no mind, "I'd brush up in my manners if I was you," Soarynn continues, "because it is highly frowned upon to berate someone's dead child one day after their death."

Soarynn doesn't wait for a response before she turns on her heel and storms out of the living room, down the hall, out the front doors, and into the elevator. She manages to hold it in until she gets into their car, "Take me to my father's house please," she whispers, her throat already closing up. The driver gives her a nod along with a pitying look, "Yes ma'am."

And in the backseat of the car on her way to her childhood home, Soarynn finally allows herself to break down.

꧁ ꧂

Her father didn't know what to say when she stumbled onto the front doorstep, her familiar baby bump now gone. Coriolanus hadn't told him. Of course, he didn't tell him.

Soarynn had cried in his arms and for once, was offered genuine comfort. Her father knew all about loss, they both did now.

Once she was done crying she went up to her old room and curled up under the safety of her covers. She'd have to come clean to her father, tell him about Coriolanus and his abusive, controlling nature. She had to get out. She had to get out.

She was deep asleep when she heard male voices. Two voices. One belonged to her father, a man who tried his best to protect her. The other belonged to her husband, the man who was supposed to protect her.

She only caught bits and pieces from their conversation.

"...didn't tell me where she was going..."

"...just seeking out comfort Coriolanus..."

"...try again soon..."

"...didn't even call me when it happened..."

"...back in two days..."

꧁ ꧂

When Soarynn woke up her mouth was dry and her mind was foggy. It was strange to be back in her childhood bedroom, surrounded by all the things that used to bring her comfort. The space was slightly tainted by all the things she and Coriolanus had done in here upon his demand.

A soft knock at the door alerted Soarynn of her father's presence as he slowly opens the door. She can see he's brought tea and for that she's thankful. She probably needs it after all the crying she's been doing as of late. "How're you feeling?" He asks gently, sitting on the edge of her bed Soarynn shrugs, "I don't feel quite like myself anymore." Her father nods, "Well, that's to be expected after what you just went through."

Soarynn bites her inner cheek because she's not talking about the very recent loss of her unborn son. She's talking about every moment she's spent with Coriolanus Snow in her life, controlling her life, dictating her life.

"It's not the miscarriage," she whispers, her voice is hoarse. Her father frowns and places his hand over his, "Then what is it, honey?"

Soarynn can feel it all bubbling to the surface, all these years of mental and sexual angst building up and it all spilled out.

"It's him," she breathes, feeling like a weight has been lifted off her chest, "it's Coriolanus. I...I'm miserable, absolutely miserable with him. I can't go back, I don't want to go back."

Her father shakes his head, "Soarynn he loves you, he...he was so worried about you, he even came to find out where you'd run off to." Soarynn cards her fingers through her hair, "He's a liar. He lies to everyone, manipulates everyone."

Soarynn watches her father's face and she can see him fighting some internal debate on whether or not to believe his daughter.

"He raped me."

She was prepared to take it to the grave but she has to say it once, has to know that she told one person.

It feels good to say out loud, to admit, to acknowledge.

Her father's face morphs from one of concern to one of anger, "He what?" Soarynn stares at her duvet covers as she remembers what Coriolanus did to her all those years ago. She's so far removed from it now, but she knows what he did to her. "I went to his penthouse, and he had these pills and...and he took everything from me," she whispers the last part, tears falling down her face, "and if I go back then he's going to make me have another baby and I can't." Her voice breaks as Soarynn realizes what she'll be subjected to when she returns to the penthouse.

She knows her husband well enough to know what he'll do and say, how he's going to act. She can't do it, she can't. She looks up to find her father still in shock, "I...Soarynn I can't believe you've carried this with you all this time. It's been seven years." Soarynn laughs, it's a crazy, delusional laugh but it feels good to laugh, "Who would've believed me? The quiet, timid girl with no friends? He's a Snow, no one would have believed me."

Even her own father had fallen for Coriolanus and his charms.

"You need to file for divorce," her father says, his voice so steady and determined, "it's domestic abuse, it's...it's unforgivable. We'll go to the courthouse tomorrow and then we can call our lawy-"

"I can't," Soarynn cuts him off, "I can't go through a public divorce. He won't leave me alone, I know he won't. I'm always going to live under his thumb."

Her father swallows, "Then I don't know what to do to help you, and I wish I could Soarynn. But divorce is the only option."

No, it's not, she thinks to herself, but the other option is entirely too selfish.

Soarynn gives him a reassuring smile, comforting him with words she so desperately wishes to hear, "It'll be alright. But promise me that you'll look after Petunia should I consider divorce. I know Coriolanus won't want anything to do with her." Her father sighs but nods, "Of course honey. He actually dropped her off when he came to visit." Soarynn feels a sense of relief wash over her when hearing that.

"Good," she decides, "you two can keep each other company then."

꧁ ꧂

Soarynn lays in the bathtub of her childhood bathroom, staring up at the ceiling.

It's all been done, been written. She feels horrible for leaving. Leaving Petunia and her father, she knows that they'll be okay. They'll forgive her.

She's written letters to those who deserve them, those who showed her an ounce of kindness over these seven years. It's a terribly selfish thing that she's about to do but for once, she deserves to be selfish.

Soarynn takes one more deep breath before sinking down under the warm water. It's like a warm hug. Then slowly, she pushes all the air out of her body, her lungs slowly emptying.

It's not painful. It's quiet. Like her.

She feels so happy. Something she forgot.

Something she's not

But something she can be.

Something she waits for.

Something she's made for.

She's floating now.

She wonders when her father will find her. What people will say about Coriolanus Snow's wife killing herself in the bathtub? He won't care. He won't grieve her or miss her. He'll remarry, have a perfect family with a perfect wife. But when he looks down at her in her casket, dressed in her favorite dress with her hands perfectly folded, what will he think?

Will he think she looks pretty?

꧁ ꧂

Coriolanus, Since the day I met you, I've yearned for an explanation. Why did you do the things you did to me? Why did you pick me? What did I do to deserve that? I suppose I'll never know the truth, you've never been good at telling it. But I'll leave you with this explanation of why I left. I think it's the easiest thing I've ever done. It's the first thing I've ever done for myself. I chose myself. I don't expect you to mourn me, it won't be genuine. I don't expect you to keep my things, my books, my clothes. My father will take them. Petunia as well, I don't think she's ever liked you. I'm sorry about our son, I truly am. I hope you are too. I'm going to see my son. I'm going to see my mother. I'm going to see your sister. I'm sure we'll all agree that I deserved better. - Soarynn

꧁ ꧂

| tumblr oneshot/drabble |

#coriolanus fanfiction #coriolanus snow #hunger games #slaymitchabernathy #the hunger games #ao3 fanfic #coriolanus smut #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #wattpad #soarynn snow #coriolanus oneshot #coriolanus imagine #coriolanus fic #staywithmealways #coriolanus x original character #coriolanus x oc #oneshot #soarynn nightingale #coriolanus x soarynn #coriolanus drabble #coryo snow #drabble #possesive coriolanus #stay with me always #oc #original character #o

[mimicha-arts]

Link Click Musical - Song translations

The original lyrics can be found on Niebo's blog Credits for tl & editing: @mimicha-arts, @sgdlr-asdfghjkl, @sciencehawk, @elaraqwq, @chocolatexiaoshi

M5 (CXS) Back to the past

Fear and guilt fall upon, mingling with each other, Helplessness and indecision consume me I once thought that I would never lose you Now, how can I go back to that time?

When I lost your trace and the signal of our bond broke I realised, changing the game* would overwrite the original timeline

*Cheng Xiaoshi changed a score of Chen Xiao’s basketball game

You reminded me, But I misunderstood Complaining about you indifference It's all my fault When you suffer, falling into the whirlpool of time and space

I can’t see, I can’t hear, I can’t catch up, I can’t find your silhouette, I can't guess, I can't speak, I can't think, I can't draw your traces Which time and space have your whereabouts? Will you be erased completely, disappear? As long as you can be saved, I do whatever it takes

Can I turn back the clock hands, Go to the past, pause time, and restart again? But a thousand pasts create all the futures

Even if we go back to the beginning, Even if you and I haven't met Let time restart again I have to go back and save you ~ As long as you can be saved, I do whatever it takes

M10 (LG) Broken time

Looking at you, lost in thoughts, I feel powerless Ridiculous me - feeling wronged, unable to voice it My lies unraveled Looming words of break up divide us, our shared history pales Meetings and farewells, the bitter end is an ending too

If you were to start all over again, you could make a mistake - rewrite someone's life And if I remained indifferent, let you get in trouble, how would you feel now? Would you blame me for staying on the sidelines, hiding the truth, for not warning you? False hopes impact the mission Inflamed emotions betray the trust

The light outside the doors has dimmed, There is no way to find a compromise, to make a different choice Despair holds hands with bitterness, leading me Behind the doors time is frozen - the betrayal is fanning up the flames Time pulls along the stubborn you and the conceited me

This rule traps you and me - the harder you fight, the harder you fall The outcome, destined by fate, is not something we can rewrite Crossing two timelines, the predestination of fate is an iron cage No way to escape from the intertwining of past and present Night and day clash with each other like you and me

The light outside the doors has dimmed - time behind the doors has frozen Silence holds hands with the darkness of night, flashes before my eyes Keeper of the rules, interfering in the fatal game - this is who I am Time pulls along the stubborn you and the conceited me

"Past or future - let it be" I lost

Source (recording from rehearsal)

#link click musical #link click #shiguang dailiren

[mermaidgirl30]

✨Stay in the Light✨

A/N: I’ve been wanting to do a one shot based off the song “The Night We Met” by Lord Huron for a while, and I finally got some inspiration yesterday to write this little piece. Hope you like it 🩵 Thank you to @mountainsandmayhem for being my beta reader before I decided to release this out to the world 💕

Summary: Joel gets injured after a raider attack, and he’s wishing he could’ve told you all the feelings he held back from you for so long

Word Count: 2.2k

Pairing: Joel x fem! reader

Rating: 18+ Only

Tags: Outbreak! Joel, Jackson! Joel, blood, angst, comfort, feelings, regrets, in both reader and Joel’s POV, no deaths, fluff (I am bad at tags, so let me know if I should add anything)

Dividers by @saradika-graphics

“When the night was full of terrors, and your eyes were filled with tears. When you had not touched me yet. Oh, take me back to the night we met”

- “The Night We Met” by Lord Huron

The ground is cold, wet, unwelcoming with a thick puddle of crimson blood pooling beneath his worn green flannel. Large flecks of powdered snow lace through his grey threaded curls that stick to his sweaty forehead. His vision blurs, going in and out in waves as pain takes hold of his insides. He can hear Tommy screaming in the near distance, his deep voice sounding like it’s washed out beneath a wave of deep water. He can barely register it, barely hear anything, but what he does see is a bright light, an angel in disguise. He sees you.

You. The girl he should’ve been more careful with. Your feelings, your heart, your everything. He was such an asshole ever since the first day you came walking through the front gates of Jackson. He should’ve been nicer, shouldn’t have yelled at you over petty things that were his doing and shouldn’t have thrown insults your way when you were just trying to help on every patrol you were assigned to with him.

Maybe if he would’ve been fucking nicer then maybe this wouldn’t have happened. A clean gunshot to the abdomen, now bleeding out on the thick white snow beneath him. Raiders. He wasn’t being careful, wasn’t paying attention. No, he was fucking fixed on arguing with you. Maybe he deserves it, maybe if he wasn’t such a grouch all the time then maybe none of this would’ve fucking happened. He sure as hell doesn’t deserve you. Warm, bright, gentle, kind. He was none of those things, so why the fuck were you still sitting here with him, keeping him from slipping into the thick fog of darkness?

“Joel! Stay with me, okay? Stay with me.” Your voice is so adamant, so terrified, so hurt. And it fucking kills him, destroys him. “Tommy! Help him!”

Joel sees the gathering tears that burn through your beautiful eyes, sees the absolute horror that’s coated through your knit together eyebrows, sees the pain of holding it all together just like you always do. Always so brave. His brave girl…. NO. You’re not his to keep, not his to hold, not his to tell everything’s going to be alright. You weren’t his and never would be. Not after the way he’s treated you.

He wishes you were his, but you’re not, and it’s his own damn fault for being so reckless. He should’ve been softer, more kind, like you. He should’ve done so many things, should’ve told you just how he felt. How much he likes you, how much he…

He winces in pain as Tommy presses down on the open wound, barely holding himself together to even keep his eyes open, but he fights. He fights for you. The girl he so desperately fell in love with over the last year, the girl he wished he treated differently. He should’ve fucking told you, but now it’s too late. It’s all too late.

“Hey, hey. Joel, look at me. Look at me!” You grab the sides of his face, sink your delicate fingers into the scruff of his greying beard, and cling to him just enough to where maybe he won’t slip through your fingers. You can’t lose him, you can’t.

“Joel, open your eyes. Please, keep them open for me.” You shake his head lightly, kneel over him and let your hair fall in a heap at your side as you pray for one more day with him. “Joel…”

Your voice is so sad, so desperate as you call out for him. He sees your face blur in his spotty vision, sees the glistening tears start to spill down your face. So he reaches up, musters up enough strength to wipe away the falling tears that stain your beautiful face. He thinks you’re so gorgeous, always has. Ever since you walked into his life, he knew. He knew he’d fall, and that’s why he pushed away so strongly. He didn’t want to lose you, he never wanted to. But now you were the one losing him…

He holds the side of your face for just a few more seconds, just enough to finally know he got you, some part of you, if only for a minute. And that was enough for him. At least he knew what it was like to feel your soft skin slipping under the weight of his calloused fingers. That moment alone was all he wanted.

He starts to close his eyes, starts to fade away into the midst of darkness and silence, but he hears you plead to stay in the light. “Stay in the light, Joel. Stay with me. Stay,” you beg. And he carries those words into the darkness with him. And then there’s nothing but the fading words of a promise he never could keep.

Stay in the light.

He awakes slowly, hearing the buzzing sound of some medical machine he doesn’t know the name of. Slowly but surely his eyes open as the harsh light from the blinding window slips against the warm sheets of the sterile bed. It takes him a second to come to himself, to know he’s not dead.

He looks cautiously down at his exposed torso, finding the tight bandage wrapped around his wound. It’s clean, mended to, but the pain burns through his body. Every breath he breathes feels like fire in his lungs, but at least he knows he’s alive.

He feels warmth sliding through his fingertips, feels comfort bubble over his entirety. He wonders what it is, wonders what thing could ever bring him comfort until he slowly turns his head and sees you sitting there on the edge of the bed, fingers laced through his while your thumb gently glides side to side in slow circles on the back of his rough hand.

His eyes go wide, eyebrows knit together as he stares wondrously at the girl he’s been pining over since the day he locked eyes on you. You look so goddamn beautiful there with your fingers threaded through his. He can feel it deep in his gut, that fluttering feeling he’s always tried so hard to push back down, but this time he can’t. He won’t. He can’t ignore the voices anymore that scream your name every single night he’s in between his sheets, wishing he could just have a chance to hold you, to feel you pressed against his firm chest. And maybe he would. One day. Maybe he still had time to make you his.

You hear a faint rustling sound in the sheets and turn your face slightly to the left, expecting it to only be your vivid imagination. Your jaw drops suddenly and your eyes go wide the moment you see Joel awake, breathing, alive.

“Joel!” You turn frantically and crowd his body, locking your arms tight around the back of his neck as you inhale his deep mahogany and pine cone scent.

“Ouch, take it easy!” Joel pants out as you jump back, realizing you might’ve hurt him with your body weight.

“I’m sorry, are you alright?” you ask as you assess his wound, running your fingers lightly over the bandaged area. He winces a little as you smooth out the edges, but he just hums in response.

“I’m fine. Jus’ calm down, will ya?”

You gently smile at him and brace your hands on the fitted sheets, just barely grazing your skin over his warm, sweaty body. Your eyes scan over his bare chest as you take in the coarse hair that covers his broad chest, watching the way the cool sweat glazes over tanned skin. You think he looks so beautiful, even after a gunshot wound. You’ve never seen him bare chested, and it surprises you what it makes you feel inside. Warmth.

“You came back to the light,” you whisper out, grazing your fingertips across the back of his hand as he stares wide-eyed at you, honey eyes so intense that you swear they’re about to split you in half. “I was so scared, Joel. You scared me half to death!”

He just watches you, eyes wading into yours like a violent tidepool about to drag you into the crashing waves, but there’s a fondness to them, a slight gleam in his eyes as he assesses you. Slow, curious, eyes that look like they might shed a tear.

“You… you saved my life today.” His tone is somber, his honey eyes wild as you see tears lick the surface, but he won’t dare shed them. Not in front of you. That’d be too vulnerable.

“Mhm. If Tommy wasn’t there, I don’t know how I would’ve ever gotten you up on that saddle alone. But we did it. We made it in time. I was so scared we were too late. You weren’t… you weren’t really breathing. Even the doctor was worried you wouldn’t make it. You’re a… well, a miracle.”

His face turns pale, lips parted solemnly as he breathes and lets oxygen back into his tired lungs. “Why did you save me?”

His words surprise you as you furrow your eyebrows and shift your weight slightly on the bed so you’re facing him. “What do you mean?” Your words come out shaky, appalled. What did he mean why did you save him?

“Why did you save me?” His honey eyes bore into yours, fingers flexing around the white sheets as he just stares with flared nostrils.

You place a hand gently on top of his warm hand as he tries to pull away, but you don’t let him. “Because I think you’re worth saving.”

His plush lips tremble, his eyes blowing wide as he takes in your quiet words. He looks like he wants to say something, looks like he’s fighting with himself in his mind, but he just stares unblinking, taking in the soft way you look at him.

Finally, he clears his deep voice and rasps out a response. “I’m not worth saving.” His eyes look so sad, defeated, and you wish you could take away all his pain. Physical and emotional, you’d take it all on if it meant he could have one single day where he didn’t wear the weight of the entire world on his tired back.

You lean forward as you hear the creak of the old bed and place your hand gently on his bare chest, feeling the bristles of coarse dark hair running down his tanned skin. “I think you are, Joel.”

He gulps, arms fidgeting beneath you as you see him fight with himself, battling the demons of reaching out or letting you slip through his grasp. He finally finds the courage to slowly, steadily crawl his hand up the side of his chest, then ever so softly places it on top of yours.

“Look, I’m sorry. I’m sorry for bein’ a jerk to you the past year. I was a real asshole, and there’s no excuse for the way I treated you. I think about it every single night, think about how I should’ve done better, how I should’ve tried harder because I… I…” Joel winces in pain as he tries to sit up, but you push him back down easily and try to get him to stay still.

“Hey, careful there. It’s okay, Joel. It’s…”

“No, please let me finish.” You nod your head and he continues with a low grunt through gritted teeth. “I should’ve been nicer to you. And I want to apologize for everything I’ve ever done, every hurtful thing I’ve ever said to you. I didn’t mean it, not really. I’ve jus’… I’ve been goin’ through a lot, but that’s no excuse. Because I should’ve told you how I felt about you, not pushed you away. You see, the thing is… well, thing is I like you, darlin’. A lot. You’re so fuckin’ beautiful and those eyes, that smile. I…”

You cut him off as you lean forward and crash your lips into his, letting his warmth overwhelm you as you slip into him. His tongue tastes like coffee, his skin smells of freshly cut firewood, and he feels so good in the palm of your hand. He surrounds you in something like warmth, ecstasy, something you’ve wanted to feel for so long. He glides his thick fingers through your hair and pulls you closer as he gets lost in you, overwhelming your senses until all you can smell, hear, feel is him. It feels so right, this feels right. You almost forget he’s injured until he grunts and shifts his weight to the right.

You quickly let go of the kiss and lean back, assessing if he’s alright, but he’s smiling. Warm, bright, glowing. You’ve never seen him like this, like he’s the happiest man in the world. It’s that twinkle in his chocolate irises that gets you, and you finally know that this is where you belong. In Jackson, with him.

He guides a strand of hair behind your ear and cups the side of your face as his warm, calloused thumb grazes gently across your cheekbone. “You kept me in the light, sweetheart. You’re exactly what I needed all along, I jus’ wish I didn’t wait so long to find the light.”

You sigh and smile. “It’s okay, Joel. You found it. You found me.”

“You gonna keep the light on for me, sweetheart?”

“Forever, if you want me to.”

He pulls you back in and grazes lightly over your lips as he whispers out, “Forever it is.”

Tagging some friends who might be interested 💛 @sawymredfox @burntheedges @littlevenicebitch69 @keylimebeag @vivian-pascal @rav3n-pascal22 @princesatracionera @bbyanarchist @amyispxnk @pedrostories @syd-djarin @msjarvis @untamedheart81 @survivingandenduring

#joel miller #joel miller fic #joel miller fanfiction #joel x female reader #joel miller pedro pascal #joel miller fluff #joel miller angst #joel x f!reader #post outbreak joel #outbreak!joel #jackson!joel

[joesalw]

“And sometimes the realisation dawns that you can love a person and you want to save them but you can’t save them and if you don’t get out you will drown.”

I just wanted to share, as someone who has also been in this kind of situation, that I have suspected and assumed he struggled with his mental health ever since her first hint of it, and I think that made me much more interested in her songs. I might not have become a fan in the past and her songs might not have resonated with me as much if it wasn’t for it.

I think when you’re in that place or with someone who’s in that place, contemplating death and the thought of losing someone to depression can make you completely rearrange your values and priorities. that’s why I kinda believed her when she sang about how she actually didn’t value fame and how she wanted to go to the lakes and all that.

I know it can be pretty hard going through that, but I’ll never understand how at some point you would give it all up for this one person and a couple of years later you can’t even restrain from writing anything about his intimacy and pain. in a way I guess she did it since he only received one song, but she threw him to the wolves in the marketing process. I guess it wasn’t intentional not to talk about him, it was just that she was much more infatuated with the guy he cheated on him with.

I don’t even care about her personal mistakes but bringing the drama to millions of people like that is what I can’t get over. Acting like it was his fault that she wasted her youth is what I can’t get over.

I don’t hate her but I feel lied to (?). it’s funny cause that makes me angry for the youth I gave her lol

“it's funny cause that makes me angry for the youth i gave her”— damn the last line hit ne

#anti taylor swift #ex swifties

[weirdgenetic-fuckup]

No Nut November - Steven

A/n: I had no motivation to write this but I'm happy it's finally done and I can add to this short series that people seem to be enjoying, oddly enough I don't expect this one to get the same love as the others just because it's Steven BUT I LOVE POPCORN

Warnings: Smut, oral sex, Steven being sad, reader admits to getting off on Steven in the middle of the night, if you think I missed something let me know otherwise enjoy :3

Intro

No nut November was a stupid idea, he never should’ve brought it up. The month hadn’t even started yet and he was pissed.

He left the studio with a headache just thinking about what would happen when he eventually lost. Even after moving in with you he’s woken up multiple times with stains on his underwear, all while you were sound asleep beside him.

He blasted the radio on his way home. Once he got to your shared apartment he couldn’t bring himself to get out and just sat there listening to Aerosmith’s “Crazy”, and a whole lot of their other sad songs. How did the radio know what he needed? And why was it all one of his favourite bands? He didn’t know, but he took it as a sign anyway and sat in his self-pity.

Eventually you came out and knocked on his window. He rolled it down and looked up at you with sad eyes and pouty lips.

“Did something happen?” You asked, reaching out for him and holding his face in your hand. He shook his head. “Then why are you sad?” He took a deep breath and rolled the window up, turned the car off and got out.

“Let’s just go inside.” He mumbled, an arm going over your shoulder as he walked you back inside.

Steven went straight for the couch and turned the TV on to distract himself. You went to the kitchen and got dinner, the dinner you made before he got home. It was a little cold but edible nonetheless.

“You wanna talk about it?” You asked as you sat beside him. Steven poked at his food and slumped back on the couch.

“The guys and I have a bet going to see who can go a whole month without-” He stopped abruptly, not wanting to say it in front of your home cooked chicken.

“Without..?” You repeated softly, wanting him to finish what he was saying, though you had a pretty good idea on what he meant. “We can’t do anything for a month?” You finally asked, the drummer solemnly shook his head.

“It sucks ‘cause I know I’m gonna lose, I mean, I can’t even count the amount of wet dreams I get from just sleeping beside you.” You froze for a second. Steven must have seen that because he groaned. “Shit, sorry, I guess you didn’t know.”

“Guess I’ll have to stop doing that...” You muttered under your breath.

“You’ll stop doing what?” He looked at you with a smile, wanting to hear this dirty little secret you’ve been keeping from him.

“Well, it’s just,” you started, cheeks starting to heat up, “sometimes I wake up in the middle of the night and-and you just look so pretty beside me...” You trail off, now it’s your turn to poke your food.

“Do you fuck me in my sleep?” He asked, sounding more proud than anything. You drop your fork with a huff.

“I don’t do that, I just- I may or may not...” You trail off again, poking your food once more.

“Do you get off on me in the middle of the night?” Steven asked with a big smile and bright eyes. You huffed again and that was all the confirmation he needed. “Oh, sweetheart, you could’ve just woken me up, I would’ve loved to help you out!”

“I know, but I don’t want to wake you up for something that simple when I know you won’t wake up if I just do it.” I look up at him with a small pout that quickly fades to a grin. “You sleep like a dead log, by the way.” You added with a chuckle. Steven scoffed and threw a cooked cut of carrot at you.

After that conversation Steven had more hope in this bet. Then he heard that Duff was out and he thought it would be even easier! The cherry on top was Axl getting out before him, oh he was teasing the ginger about it the rest of the day. Axl almost killed him for it, but he had no regrets.

He came home to you, hoping to tell you about it because he was so proud of himself for lasting longer than Axl, the man who started it. Kind of, it was mostly the drummer's fault for bringing up NNN in the first place. However, when he got home he found you already asleep on the couch.

Steven thought you were adorable, all curled up in your blankets with the TV on. God, he loved you so much.

He picked you up and carried you to bed, helping you out of your jeans and into something a little comfier before crawling into bed with you and falling asleep with his head on your chest, his favourite sleeping position.

“Stevie.” You whispered in his ear. “Come on, Stevie.” You gave him a little shake, trying to wake him up. When he didn’t stir you moved to sit on his lap, hovering over his limp dick with your hands planted on his fluffy chest. “Stevie~” You purred. “Stevie I need you~” You leaned forward and started kissing his neck, nipping at the sensitive skin and biting his earlobe.

Finally the man began to wake up. “What are you- Oh~” He hummed when he put two and two together. “Couldn’t wait till morning?” You shook your head and rolled over beside him.

“I know you can’t do anything but...” You trailed off, tracing shapes on his bare chest.

“But..?” He prompted. You looked up at him with pleading eyes and a pout you know he just can’t say no to.

“Please..?”

“Please what?” His hand trailed up your arm and down your side before landing on your waist, giving it soft squeezes.

“What if you just fingered me or something?” You asked, thinking of other alternatives. Steven thought about it for a moment before crawling over you, slowly lowering himself further down the bed.

“I���ve got a better idea.” He mused as he tugged on the waistband of your shorts. His shorts, really, he got you into them because he thought they’d be more comfortable while you slept.

He pulled them off of you, as well as your underwear, and stayed like that for a moment just admiring your slick folds before delving into them. His tongue worked wonders on your sensitive parts, dipping into your cunt and circling your clit, sucking on the nub and making you go cross eyed with moans spilling out of you like a second language.

You had barely noticed that Steven had started grinding himself against the bed. His only thought was pleasuring you, though usually when he ate you out he’d do this, it was instinctual to get himself off on getting you off. He couldn’t help it, his drooling cock was bright red and ready to burst the same way you were, the knot in your gut quickly coming undone.

You screamed out his name, your hands pulling his hair as your thighs clamped down on his head. You often did that and he never complained once, rather loving the feeling of being locked to you.

You felt him moaning around you and when you looked down you could see he was twitching, he looked ready to cry.

“Oh, baby, what’s wrong?” You cooed, leaning forward a bit to get a better look at him. Steven got up and looked down to see a huge wet spot on his sweats, right where his cock was bulging through.

“I-I didn’t mean to-” He sputtered, clearly not over his high. You weren’t nearly as pent up as he’d been, getting yourself off whenever the need came about, the only difference was that Steven wasn’t the one getting you off. You hadn’t thought about how pent up he must’ve been, hell he probably didn’t put too much thought into it either.

“Well,” you started, still staring at his crotch, “if you’re out now there’s nothing keeping us from continuing... right?” You asked, looking  up at him.

“Yeah, but...” Steven trailed off.

“But..?”

“I’m tired.” He said and crawled back to the top of the bed so he could lay down. “Can you top?” He asked with a big grin. You returned the expression and happily climbed on top of him.

#guns n roses #guns n roses fanfic #guns n roses x reader #guns n roses smut #steven adler x reader #steven adler fluff #steven adler gnr #gnr #steven adler

[stuckinapril]

😐 no one told me id burst out crying in front of my best friend watching past lives

#you guys should’ve warned me like I was not expecting tnat #now I’m gonna need 8 business days to process this I HATE THIS #literally typing this w tears on my face #I’m literally never gonna get over this NO ONE WARNED ME I hate yall fr #‘WATCH PAST LIVES’ WHY SO I COULD BE EMOTIONALLY DESTROYED FOREVER #Whatever #I’m not built for this I want happy endings #and that one line #‘see you in the next life’ #NO WAY THEY JUST DID THAT #I actually can’t process this. one more thing to go to therapy about THANS GUYS . #Also worth mentioning Celine Song’s own commentary about the ending and Nora grieving her unlived life as she walked home #This hits on so many personal levels for me I’m actually never gonna be over this film ever #p #past lives

[cafeandarsenic]

tiktok comments on xo kitty edits got me so tight bc the ppl who ship Minho and Kitty always talkin abt “uhm her crush on Yuri ruined the show for me” and can’t acknowledge that the way that her feelings are continually shifting is what it’s like being a teenager??? The show is setting her up to end up w Minho (guys he called her covey, but more on that at a later date), but her queer exploration plot line is valid and necessary, it emphasizes the convoluted experiences we have growing up. Do better supporting queer plots and queer characters and queer fans. We deserve to be represented as much as anybody else.

#the way I had to get OFF the clock app I was fumin #xo kitty #xo kitty spoilers #minho x kitty #yuri x kitty #kitty song covey #katherine song covey #to all the boys trilogy #yuri han #minho summ (i can’t remember) #if ppl tryna start a fight wit me over this just know I’m too fuckin tired