𝒂𝒃𝒐𝒖𝒕
hello, everyone! you can call me bee (30s, she/her). this tumblr was created so that i would have a place to put all my brain rot into words so it would have somewhere else to live that wasn't inside my skull. i love writing and use it as a creative outlet, and while i primarily write for myself, i like sharing the things i've worked on with other people.
i have a pretty bad habit of defaulting to vulgar and explicit language in my writing (cursing, for better or worse, is a natural part of my day-to-day vocabulary) and want to preface that if that makes you uncomfortable, the stories i write may not be for you.
most of the fanfiction on this blog is going to be related to bad omens. given that, please note that these are merely works of fiction even if they are based on real people, and that the interpretations of anyone present in these pieces is not a reflection of who they are, nor does it reflect their thoughts and feelings. again: all this is fictional.
that being said, general rules for the blog:
minors do not interact, adult and explicit content may be present, reader discretion is advised. please do not approach me with bomens related drama, i do not care and do not want to be involved.
the below links are a work in progress and will be updated soon. in the meantime, you can search my blog for my fics by searching "bee writes".
warnings: fluff so sweet i hope i give yall cavities
summary: there's something about the sight of nick in his jacket that scratches an itch noah didn't even know he had
an: I swear to god if these two don't stop being so fucking precious I'm gonna run into the woods and go feral. but, in the meantime, this drabble idea smacked me upside the head so I wrote it in the car.
word count: 416 words
"It's too big," Nick says, the corners of his mouth turning down.
Dark brow eyes rake over the man standing in front of him as Noah gives a soft, contemplative sound. It isn't like the jacket is obnoxiously large on Nicholas, but the sleeves are long enough that the cuffs hit the middle of the bassist's hands, and Noah watches the way his best friend's fingers curl into loose fists to momentarily hold the fabric before loosening and relaxing once more.
That small twitch is the start of a larger fidget that will result in Nicholas standing in front of the mirror in the green room, twisting this way and that as he scrutinizes his reflection, wondering whether or not he actually wants to wear it—Noah's seen this exact scenario play out countless times over the years.
"It doesn't look bad," he counters because he already knows where Nick's head is going.
The shorter man's mouth pulls to one side; now an uncertain and lopsided thing that looks like it's caught halfway to turning into a grimace.
"People will know it's not mine."
Ah. There it is.
"How the fuck would they know that?" Despite the harsh words, Noah is careful to keep his tone light, his own mouth pulling into something amused as he reaches out and adjusts the way the fabric lays across Nick's shoulders until it's just right. Half-lidded eyes lift from where they had been focused on the jacket back to his best friend's face, eyebrows lifted up in question.
Nick opens his mouth as if to answer before letting it fall shut. Because people pay attention, because people focus on things that don't matter when they should focus on the music, because, because, because—
"You don't have to wear it if you don't want to," is offered as the automatic out, and he watches the way Nick's expression pinches into something conflicted. "If it makes you uncomfortable, we toss it back on the hanger. It's not a big deal."
"But I wanna wear it," gets whispered back to quietly that Noah's certain he imagined it.
He lets a smile turn the corners of his mouth into something softer than the amusement that had lived there moments ago.
"It's just a jacket," Noah murmurs.
"It's just a jacket," Nick echoes with a nod.
Both of them know it isn't 'just a jacket', but Nick is already moving around Noah to step out of the green room, still wearing the beige jacket.
so i'm still working on that jolly fic and i need y'all to talk me out of making it a sad af cliffhanger or i'm just gonna reach into your chests and throw your hearts onto the ground because it won't be a series at least not yet LMAO
so i'm still working on that jolly fic and i need y'all to talk me out of making it a sad af cliffhanger or i'm just gonna reach into your chests and throw your hearts onto the ground because it won't be a series at least not yet LMAO
also guys wtf!! thank you all for following me for my silly little stories; i promise i'm gonna write more soon, life's just been sucking the creativity out of me
She might not be the only one he sleeps with, but Folio thinks she just might be the only one that matters.
Content warnings: mentions of drug use, oral (m recieving), cum play, polyamory/partner sharing, lil bit of toxicity if you squint
Contains sexual situations with a fictionalized version of a real person. None of this is real. It never happened.
This is a gift for @withcrossesandframes, inspired by this post, I saw it last night and haven't been able to stop thinking about it all day. Lightly proofread, just a quick lil ditty I pushed out in the span of a few hours 😅
Part of the Polyverse//Masterlist
------------
They’re stoned, snuggled in the bed in Noah’s guest room watching some movie they’ve both seen a hundred times. Not that it matters to Folio. He's too preoccupied with the weight of her body pressed against his, her head resting on his chest while one of her hands starts to wander.
He doesn't think he'll ever admit it to anyone, but he likes it like this with her the most. When the others are doing their own thing and it leaves time for him to grab her for a smoke and a nap—and other things.
Like right now.
The hand that's been slowly running across his belly, tracing mindless shapes over his shirt moves a little lower. Slipping under the hem of his shirt so she can thumb at the jut of his hip bone right above the waistband of his boxer briefs. He can already feel himself stir to life, cock slowly hardening in his sweats as she shifts, creeping down his body until she's resting between his legs.
She doesn't touch him right away, opting instead to caress him over his pants. He can feel her nails run over his shaft, dulled by the fabric separating them, yet heightened at the same time. Her mouth follows, teasing him with her warm breath as she traces him with parted lips. The movie plays on, forgotten, as he looks down to watch the way she nuzzles against his bulge.
Holly must feel his gaze because she looks up, mouth forming into a wry smile, and god, isn't that a fucking sight.
“Am I your favorite girl?”
The question shocks a quiet, breathless laugh out of him, only to turn into a hiss when her teeth come into play. They scrape lightly against his clothed cock, and his hips jerk at the sensation.
“Well?” she mumbles against him as she mouths at his tip, fingers playing with the waistband of his sweats.
“I—Holly--” he breathes, “you’re my only girl.”
They both know it's a lie… but while she might not be the only one he sleeps with, he'd be a liar to say she isn't the only one that actually matters. It's a fucked up thought, but that doesn't make it any less true.
Way back before all this started, he didn't understand what it was about her that had his friends wrapped around her finger. But now he gets it. He really fucking gets it.
Amusement drips from her voice as she hums a quiet, good answer, and then she's pushing his sweatpants down to pull him out of the hole in his boxer briefs. The warm swirl of her tongue on tip has his eyes rolling back, lids fluttering shut as he sinks back against the pillows.
He blinks open his heavy lids, desperate to watch as she sucks him slowly, lazily. Every bob of her mouth feels better than the last as she works him into her throat, taking him to the root she holds him there, swallowing around him before backing off to start all over again.
His orgasm doesn't sneak up on him, bursting forth in a rush like it usually does. It moves over him in a wave, cresting as he empties into her mouth, but instead of the warm suction that usually comes as she swallows, cool air mixes with her warm breath as she parts her lips, spilling his own release back over him.
“Jesus…” he curses quietly, dick twitching as his gaze cuts from her face, watching her lick at the corner of her mouth, to the mess of cum covering him. His fingers move on their own accord, gliding through the sticky, milky white, and as she lets him slip the digits into her open mouth to suck them clean, Folio knows he's gonna get hard again. “You made a mess all over me, baby. You gonna clean it up?”
“Would be a shame to waste it all,” she jokes softly when he pulls his fingers from her mouth, keeping her eyes on his as she works to clean him up. It’s filthy, yet sensual at the same time—almost hotter than having his dick sucked, he thinks. The way her tongue peeks out to lap up his cum, swirling around his shaft, his ball sack, up to the little bit gathered in the wiry curls at the base of his cock.
He's hard by the time she's done, but sensitive after all her attention, and he’s more than content to tuck himself back into his underwear before he pulls her up to kiss him. Her heat seeps into him through the thin layers separating them and he can't help but groan at the taste of himself in her mouth. She tastes like him and it's as much of a claim as he's gonna get.
It makes him sink his fingers into her waist, and as much as he'd love to fuck her, he's not confident in his ability to not explode the moment he slips inside her… so he rolls them, pressing her back into the mattress.
“What about me?” He asks, shuffling down her body to pull her thin lounge pants off. Her face scrunches and her brows furrow even as she lets him do the same with her underwear. “Am I your favorite?”
She smirks down at him, pressing her index finger to her lips as if she's thinking. “Definitely top five.”
If he didn't understand the intricacies of this whole thing, this weird relationship they all share with her, his ego would probably be hurt. But he does, and he knows there's two whose places he's never gonna touch. So he laughs, pushing away the small niggling feeling of jealousy, as he plants his hands on either side of her head to hold himself over her. “Top five? Really? Not even top three, huh?”
She hums, reaching up to take the cross on his necklace between her fingers and move it back and forth on the chain. “Well, that depends.”
“On what?”
“If I'm mad at Jolly or not.” She quips back. Arousal tingles in his belly at the little half smile that grows on her face. He has to bite his lip to hold back the groan that wants to escape.
He dips down to kiss her again, breaking away to press his lips to her neck on his way to lie on his stomach beneath her thighs.
“Well, then I better get to work, remind you why I am one of your favorites. And while I'm down here, I'm sure there's something you can decide to get mad at Jolly for.”
“Well, then I better get to work, remind you why I am one of your favorites. And while I'm down here, I'm sure there's something you can decide to get mad at Jolly for.”
don't mind me i'm just furiously punching the air because of how much i love mo and her writing
BEAUTIFUL PERSON AWARD! Once you are given this award you're supposed to paste it in the asks of 8 people who deserve it. If you break the chain nothing happens, but it's sweet to know someone thinks you're beautiful inside and out 💛
thank you so much!! i'm gonna keep the love going once this weather calms down aaaahhh
Holly's one of the most stubborn, independent women Matt's ever known, and despite the fact that she hates it, he can't help but want to spoil her.
Content warnings: polyamory/partner sharing, hand jobs, ruined orgasm/orgasm denial, oral (m and f receiving), brief sprinkle of daddy kink
Special thanks to @withcrossesandframes for being the best ride or die and always being willing to listen to my polyverse brainrot (and make it worse with her own thoughts) and Illy for giving this thing a look through (all mistakes are still my own)
Title once again from white nail polish by holywatr
And, as always, this contains sexual situations with a fictionalized version of a real person. None of this is real. It's all make believe.
Part of the Polyverse//Masterlist
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Matt Dierkes sent you a deposit $$
The notification comes just as she walks into her favorite nail salon in L.A. It’s not too far from Noah and Jolly’s house, but far enough she feels like she can breathe without being the weight of the pre-tour testosterone that’s filling the place right now. She loves her boys, but sometimes she needs a break.
With a sigh, she thumbs open her and Matt’s text thread.
<Holly> Matt…
<Matt> the guys said you were doing a self-care day or some shit.
<Matt> my treat
<Matt> … seriously. Just say thank you and accept it. I can see you scowling from here.
She immediately relaxes her face. Sometimes it bothers her how well he manages to read her, even over text. She huffs, looking at the transfer again. It’s the exact amount she usually pays, which means he didn’t do this on his own. Sighing again, she shakes her head, pressing the “accept deposit” button as she tries to fight the different emotions swirling inside her.
<Holly> I wasn’t scowling
<Matt> sure you weren’t
<Matt> enjoy your “you” time
⸻
It feels like they’ve been at it for hours, and they probably have. Noah’s usually insanely comfortable studio chair feels like a torture device, and Matt’s back fucking aches. He’s more than thankful for the break. There’s only so much they can go over before even Nick can’t stand Noah’s pissiness anymore and he forces them all out to get fresh air.
Matt yawns, stretching his arms above his head, arching his spine in an effort to relieve some of the soreness he knows is only bound to get worse. He needs to lie down… maybe have Holly walk on his back, see if she can get any of his shit to adjust back to something resembling normal.
Distant voices and muffled laughter float up to him through the open door of Noah’s studio, and while he was thinking of joining them, he wonders if Holly’s back yet. The thought of her has him reconsidering as he pushes to his feet. It’s not that he’s afraid of her, not really, however he knows she wasn’t pleased when he sent her the money—even if she accepted it—and who knows what she’s got up her sleeve as payback.
He’s not afraid of her, but he lingers upstairs anyway. Taking his time as he walks down the hall, stopping at the bathroom before he heads downstairs to get a drink. He’s just finished splashing water on his face when the doorknob jiggles. Matt sighs.
“Yeah, yeah, I’m coming.” He wipes his face, but before he can turn and open the door, he hears the lock turn. “Dude, I know it’s your house, but a locked door usually means someone’s in here--” the words die in his throat when he glances up at the mirror and sees who it is. Back flush with the door frame, hands hidden behind her, Holly’s eyes sparkle with mischief as they meet his in the reflection.
“I just figured you’d want to see the nails you paid for.”
“Didn’t think it could wait, huh?”
She shrugs, kicking away from the door. “I figured it’d be better to show you alone.” The sweet smirk on her face should probably put him on guard, but as he watches her close the small distance between them, all he feels is giddy.
“Is that right?”
She hums an agreeing noise into the space between his shoulder blades, pressing herself against his back. It makes a spark of anticipation light up his insides. His breath catches when her fingers slip beneath his shirt, her nails lightly scratching the skin of his back, trailing around his hips. They leave goosebumps in their wake, making the hair stand up on his arms as a shiver rolls through him.
Her hands stay under the thin cotton of his worn band tee, gliding along the edge of the waistband of his sweats before one dips into his underwear. It’s cool against his fevered skin as it slips through the wiry hair. She traces a small arch around the base of his hardening cock, running a teasing finger along his shaft before she retreats.
“What are you doing Holly?” he asks as she pushes his sweatpants down, just enough to free him through the fly of his boxer briefs.
“I told you… I’m showing you my nails. Don’t you like them?”
The sight of her pretty, almost delicate, tattooed fingers wrapped around him makes his mind go blank. Holly’s not necessarily a tiny woman, but the way his dick looks in her hand makes the caveman part of his brain go crazy and he almost forgets what he’s supposed to be looking at. She scrapes the nails of her other hand over the cut of his hip, bringing him back to the present as she prods him again, “What do you think.”
He watches her thumb run over his shaft, and he blinks, trying to focus less on the feel of her touch and more on her nails.
They’re simple. Not super long like the way he’s seen some girls wear, and while they’re pointy, they’re not sharp. The white color seems understated, but as she shifts her grip, it catches the light and Matt thinks he can see a flash of purple.
A mournful noise escapes his mouth before he can hold it back when her hand suddenly leaves him, only for her to shush him with a soft giggle. Through the mirror he can see her bring it up to her mouth, and his dick twitches almost painfully when their eyes lock as she spits into her palm. He can’t help the way his eyes close and his head tips back for a moment when she takes him back in her hand and begins to stroke him.
“You’re kind of an asshole, you know.” The insult lacks any bite. It’s affectionate, even, and combined with the spit-slick drag of her hand, it has him rocking into the tight circle of her fist.
“Why?” he pants, blinking his eyes open to watch the way her hand moves. “Because I did something—fuck—nice for you?”
“I can pay for things myself.”
Oh, he knows. Holly’s probably one of the most independent, stubborn ass women Matt’s ever fucking met. Which is probably why he wants to take care of her so much. Spoil her, even though he knows there are three other men who can and will. It delighted him when the notification went from sent to accepted, and god, if that pretty pearl white doesn’t look so good set against her golden skin.
He grips the counter of the vanity, trying to hold on to every ounce of his self-control as he quips, “You know… you haven’t even said thank you…”
“Isn’t that what I’m doing now?”
Matt laughs, and the sound borders on hysterical as he feels his orgasm start to close in. “Is it?”
“Mhm…” she hums quietly as she nips at his shoulder. Matt tips his eyes up to the mirror, just in time to see her tongue peek out between those red, red lips and lick up the side of his neck, and she whispers into the shell of his ear, “Thank you… daddy.”
She’s playing fucking dirty, and although he should probably know better, he falls for the bait. She twists her wrist, tightening her grip around his tip, and he can feel the telltale tingle in his balls while his heartbeat pounds in his ears. It turns into white noise as he teeters on the edge of his release—god it’s been forever since she’s touched him like this and he doesn’t think it’s ever felt this sweet—only for her to drop him from her grasp, abandoning him just as the sweet sweet pleasure of his orgasm begins to take hold.
Maybe later, when he’s had the time to look back, he’ll be embarrassed at how pathetic the word no sounds as it leaves his mouth while he watches, helpless, as his stomach muscles jump and spasm. His release hits the mirror, the sink, but he feels nothing at all… except frustration.
His ears are still ringing when he looks up to meet her gaze in the mirror again. She’s smirking, and he hates that despite the pent-up feelings swirling inside him, his cock twitches. Trying to bring his heart rate down, he takes a deep, shuddering breath. “Oh, Holly…” he pants around a shaky laugh, “you’re so fucked when you decide to stop punishing me.”
Holly bites her lip, as if she’s imagining exactly what he might do the next time he gets his hands on her. But then she huffs a laugh. “Uh huh, can’t wait.” She gives him a wink, stopping with her hand on the door before she turns to him again. “Thanks again for the nails.”
He throws a half-hearted middle finger her way, and all he gets in return is a giggle as she walks out the door.
⸻
By the time he’s done cleaning up his own mess in the bathroom, the studio is still empty, except for Jolly messing around on the computer, and Matt’s not quiet when he slumps into the bean bag behind him.
Jolly snorts at his exaggerated sigh, but he doesn’t bother looking at him as he asks, “What happened to you?”
“Your girlfriend did. She’s a goddamn sexual terrorist.”
He watches Jolly’s fingers stop moving across the keyboard; the cursor blinking expectantly on the screen as his friend turns the chair in his direction. “Oh?” Jolly’s eyebrows raise. “And what’d she do now?”
“Ruined my orgasm, that’s what.” It should feel weird talking to his friend about the sex he has with said friend’s girlfriend, and sometimes it still is, but Matt’s too frustrated to care right now. Frustrated and pent up in a way that only Holly can make him and who better to vent to than to one of the men she calls her boyfriend?
“Oh, you really fucked up, didn’t you?”
Jolly’s laugh sets him on edge, and he just barely manages to keep his voice down when he responds, “I was trying to do something nice for her!”
“And you did. Thanks for paying for those nails by the way… I was going to do it this time so thanks for taking the heat off me.”
“Does she do this to you too??”
“Oh, no.” Jolly laughs again. “I mean, she hates when any of us spend money on her, but no she hasn’t ruined any of my orgasms because I paid for her nails.”
The comment makes Matt roll his eyes as something that feels a little like jealousy washes through him. “Must be nice having boyfriend perks.”
The comment wasn’t meant as a dig, but he wouldn’t fault Jolly for taking it as one. His friend just grins instead. “Absolutely… and as one of my boyfriend perks, I’m giving you permission the next time she lets you get close to her. Something tells me that was the warmup, so don’t worry about when it happens.”
“The other two gonna be okay with that?”
“You think they prefer you pent up and on edge?”
“Fair point.”
Their conversation hangs in the air as silence stretches between them, and as crazy as it is, he does feel a little better now. He’s still frustrated as hell, and he’s definitely gonna get himself off later to the thoughts of how he’s gonna get her back for this, but he feels slightly more rational. However, he can’t help but ask, “Does it ever weird you out that we have conversations like this about your girlfriend?”
“Not really.” Jolly shrugs with a smile, pushing to his feet. “Now, if you’ll excuse me… I’m going to see if I can admire the way those nails look clenched against my sheets.”
⸻
It takes him a few days into tour to catch her alone, and Holly’s almost surprised. But then again, she hasn’t made it easy for him. She’s spent most of her free time with Davis, helping him out with the pop ups, making sure the displays and merch are exactly how Noah would want them. It's not that she’s avoiding him on purpose. She’d be a liar, though, if she said she didn’t enjoy this little cat-and-mouse game between them—she hasn’t forgotten his promise before she left him in Noah’s bathroom—but the busy work also helps keep her away from Folio’s wandering gaze, and hands. Ever since she found out he definitely wasn’t single when they hooked up in Europe, and hadn’t been since before Halloween, she’s been determined to keep the space between them as wide as possible.
Matt seems to snatch the first opportunity he sees, though, cornering her in the room on the back of the bus. The one with the full-sized mattress the boys take turns sharing (usually with her) when they need a night to spread out away from their bunks, and while she’s sure he locked the door, she doesn’t actually care. Neither does Matt, judging by the way he looks at her spread out on the bed as he looms over her before he peels down her underwear and leggings.
He tosses his hat onto the bed beside them once he’s between her legs, hands pressing into her thighs bruisingly to keep her spread open while he dives in. He works her up quickly, putting his mouth on her in the way he’s learned she likes, teasing her with his tongue before he seals his lips around her clit. It has her hips bucking up against his mouth as he works two fingers inside her, but just as she feels her orgasm begin to creep up on her, he pulls back. Mouthing at the skin of her thigh, and slipping his fingers from her cunt, he laughs at her noise of protest.
“I told you, Holls. You were so fucked when you decided to stop punishing me… and now I got you exactly where I want you.” He says, raising his head so she can watch the way he sucks her taste from his fingers. There’s something about the way he closes his eyes, making a noise of content in the back of his throat that pulls a whimper from her own mouth. He opens his eyes, squeezing one of her thighs gently. “Don’t worry, baby. We’re just getting started.”
It sounds more than a little condescending, and it does nothing to reassure her. Especially not with the smirk on his face as he lowers his mouth to her once again.
Holly loses track of time, and how many orgasms he denies her. He goes farther and farther each time, getting her closer to the precipice, drawing it out as long as he can before he snatches it away. Every lost orgasm makes her want to sob, and she can feel the tears run down her cheeks as the pleasure gets to be too much.
“Please, Matt—Matt please,” she cries, sinking a hand into his hair, tugging the blonde strands in an attempt to get him to stop or maybe just finally let her cum, she doesn’t quite know for sure. Only for him to grip her wrist. He pins it to the mattress effortlessly, pulling away to look up at her. His chin is soaked, lips red, shining in the low light of the bus as they pull up into a saccharine smile.
The curl of his fingers inside her makes her want to sob, back arching when he lets her wrist go to press the flat of his palm against her lower belly. It's all too much, yet not enough, and when he presses his thumb against her spit soaked clit, she can't take it anymore. She clenches down on his fingers as pleasure builds inside her once again, whimpering at the thought of him snatching it away.
“Daddy please-”
Humiliation and shame bubble inside her gut, heating her cheeks when the words leap off her tongue without her permission. It spreads down her chest as Matt's eyes light up with approval and the unspoken praise sinks into her bones. Tipping his head, he noses along her clit before wrapping his lips around the bundle of nerves and sucks.
The orgasm is almost painful when he finally lets her have it, crashing over her so fiercely she has to clamp a hand over her mouth to muffle the keen that rips through her. Matt doesn't stop. It's almost as if he's apologizing, making up for how many times he denied her by rolling her into another, and fucking her through the aftershocks with his fingers until she's weakly pushing his head away.
Her legs twitch as he kisses up her body, nipping at her belly before he presses mouth to hers. He tastes like her, and it feels like a claim. It does something to her insides, sprouting a feeling Holly doesn't quite want to name, so she doesn't. She puts it out of her mind, putting all her focus into planting a hand on his chest to send him to his back.
She settles on her knees in the v of his legs, palming at the obvious bulge in his sweats. It makes her mouth water. Holly wastes no time; shoving his hoodie out of the way and pushing down the thick fleece of his sweats so she can pull him out of his underwear. He’s already leaking from his tip, the salty precum bursting on her tongue when she leans forward to lick it up.
“Fuck Holls.” he sighs quietly as she smiles against his shaft, sucking wet kisses into the velvet skin before she fully takes him into her mouth.
Petting her hair back from her face with one hand, he cradles her cheek with the other, running his thumb through the wetness gathered at the corner of her eye.
“Fucking pretty.” Matt mumbles as she takes him to the root. The compliment, and the way he looks at her as he says it, is enough to have her clenching her thighs together. Her cunt aches with want at the thought of fucking him, and she would if they had the time, but they don’t. This isn’t a bad alternative, though, she thinks as she watches, through teary eyes, as his eyes roll back when she swallows around him.
He seems content to let her take the reins, thighs shaking under her hands as he holds himself back from thrusting into her mouth… It’s only when he’s close that he takes over. He’s not necessarily rough like he has been in the past, but he’s not gentle either when he holds her head down as he cums down her throat.
⸻
Her panties are missing when he eventually hands over her leggings, but Holly’s certain she sees a scrap of lace peeking out from his pocket when he leans down to kiss her before he goes.
“You’re gonna have to start bringing some of those back,” she calls after him.
“Maybe I’ll just have to start buying you new ones.”
-----
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