#I literally thought up this idea to use this song.
Text
A/N: a spontaneous semi-spicy drop of a draft that’s been sitting since April 1st, and now that I just watched Challengers and it’s pretty much on brand with this, that’s the mood I’m in. I also didn’t edit this, but I will post it anyways. 🙃
Words: ~2k, (Mature, 18+)
Pairing: Sebastian x Ominis x reader
Natty and Poppy teamed up to put together a small get-together with certain members of your class; however, words and owls got around, and a party of ten had turned into fifty. Overwhelmed, but determined to make the best of the situation, Natty and Poppy were able to get things under control, from snacks to Butterbeer and entertainment, it turned into a literal house party.
You find yourself sandwiched between the two boys you’d managed to get close to over the past few years, Sebastian and Ominis, both surprisingly enjoying themselves, thanks to your presence.
“Wanna try this jelly bean I made?” Garreth exclaims, scaring you from behind while nudging your arm. He stretches his arm between you and Ominis, out towards the light, where a single jelly bean is hoisted between his fingertips.
“Not tonight, Weasley,” you giggle and shrug his arm away. “I’m not in the mood to have smoke coming from my nostrils or other extremities again.”
“Suite yourself,” he replies with a shrug before trailing off to find another potential victim.
You watch Garreth walk over to another girl, one you know to be from Gryffindor, whose name is completely unknown to you. You watch her giggle as he holds his hand out and offers her a tiny red bean. The one he’d offered you had been yellow, for Hufflepuff. Her polish red nails pinch into his palm as she grabs the bean and pulls it between her lips with a teasing smile.
You see Garreth grin softly, but he turns his attention away quickly, right back to you in fact.
“He fancies you,” Sebastian states as if he’s already right and knows it all. “You have him wrapped around your finger.”
“As if you’d know, Seb. It’s not like you’re consulting with a Gryffindor.”
You hear Ominis’ snort, clearing getting a kick out of it too. You watch Sebastian’s cheeks grow ruby red in annoyance.
“I’m just saying, it’s pretty obvious. Offering you yellow jellybeans as if the rest of us don’t realize what he’s doing. As if we don’t see how he acts around you in The Great Hall, in class... Always showering you with gifts…”
“Well… I do love Garreth’s gifts,” you hum in amusement now that you’re on the subject. “Jellybeans aside, he did have his owl deliver a beautiful bouquet of daises and roses about a week ago.”
“H-he sent you flowers?”
You can hear the disappointment in Seb’s voice. Because why hadn’t he thought to send you flowers? Is the tone that laces his voice and gains a pat on the shoulder from Ominis.
“Even as a Slytherin, this conversation is becoming awfully dreadful. Care for a dance, Y/n?”
“Yeah, let’s dance!”
Ominis smiles deeply and stands to his feet to reach out for your hand. Sebastian tries to slap it away, but you take it before he can.
“Sorry, Seb,” you whisper mockingly.
You and Ominis find a spot in the corner of the room, away from the prying eyes of Sebastian or Garreth, a spot where they’d have to look if they wanted to find you.
“Sebastian‘s right, you know?”
“Oh, not you too, Omi… Garreth and I, were friends.”
“Friends fall in love. We all know that’s not quite uncommon here,” Ominis states, knowing he’s right and that any protest is just an excuse from you at this point. He wraps his arms around your waist tightly, which makes you smile into his shoulder.
“Friends can fall in love, but that doesn’t mean I’ll fall for Garreth. No matter how cute and sweet he is.”
“You find him ‘cute?’”
“Omi!” You giggle loudly and smack his shoulder playfully before falling silent and twirling around with him. It had to be Poppy’s idea to throw a slow song into the mix. “I think Garreth is adorable, admirable even, but he’s not Seb… He’s not you. And I see how miserable Seb is when Garreth is around.”
Ominis smiles, a very telling smile, and you nuzzle against the crook of his neck.
“We can’t invite him. He wouldn’t understand.”
“He may be a Gryffindor; however, that doesn’t make him stupid… or less understanding. The point is freedom from understanding. It’s for fun.”
You know this, but you don’t press further. Omi always wins in the end anyways and if you press it, you’ll find yourself more than sandwiched between your three favorite boys.
He sways you around the livingroom, one hand at the small of your back and the other placed firmly against your mid-back, and your fingers find comfort in the thickness of the sandy blonde hair that sits at the nape of his neck.
“Do you still think about it?”
Your whisper is so low, you almost hoped he hadn’t heard it. You wish you didn’t still feel the electricity coursing through your chest when he touches you, when he’s near. You try to cool it when Sebastian is around, but most of the time it feels as if you’re fighting your own being to keep the peace between friends.
“Well, you certainly made it memorable,” he replies softly and leans his head on your hair like he had the very first time the two of you danced together.
You find yourself pulling back ever so slightly until his gaze meets yours. You find yourself fluttering again, lost in the beauty of his pearlescent eyes, his tiny sprinkled moles, and the soft look of his pink lips.
“Omi…”
His hand pulls your chin upward and he stops mid-turn, your back against the wall and his to the party, concealing you as his your lips find each other’s. You can’t remember the last time you had Ominis’ lips, and his alone, without Sebastian needing you at the same time. It takes your breath away just as it did years ago.
A soft cough breaks your kiss and you and Ominis pull away with reddened cheeks.
“Am I interrupting something?” Poppy laughs sarcastically. “I mean of course I’m not, my best friend would’ve told me if she were dating a Slytherin, or you know, dating in general?”
“Poppy, it’s…”
“Exactly what it looks like,” Ominis breathes. “I asked Y/n to keep it between us. After all, Sebastian has feelings for her too.”
“Ominis…”
“Sebastian has feelings for you? And you’re okay with kissing his best friend in the same room?”
You sigh, rubbing your temples as if everything will soon come apart at the seams. You’d expect this reaction, this level of immaturity from Sebastian, not Ominis. Why would he admit that after you’ve all been hiding it so well?
“He may have feelings, but I’m… I’m in love.”
You choke, dropping your arms from Ominis’ neck in disbelief. If he were in love with you, there would be signs. There were signs, but why would he admit it here?
Poppy notices your distress and pulls you by the hand.
“Gonna borrow her for a moment,” she calls, pulling you further away from the sad looking boy. She pulls you into a room, banishing everyone out before slamming the door behind you both. “Y/n, are you… insane? I mean of course you aren’t, you’re the smartest person I’ve ever known, yet you deliberately got involved with not one, but two Slytherin boys. Nat and I told you to be careful since day one!”
“I know,” you breathe and kick your shoes off before bringing your knees up to your chest on the bottom of her bed. “But it’s Seb and Omi, they’re harmless.”
“Harmless?” She scoffs. “That man just said he betrayed his friend, who has a crush on you. I mean you two were snogging! As if it’s completely normal. The way he said he loved you as if he meant it, as if he’s been completely enraptured by you. How did this even happen?”
“We… spent time together. We’ve been friends for years now.”
Poppy places a hand on her hips, believing only a small portion of what you’re admitting. She takes a deep breath and settles on the bed next to you.
“What’s really going on between you and Ominis, Y/n?”
You deflect from her prying eyes, all your steady thoughts and chaotic ones overlapping and tangling with each other in your mind as you do. You can’t tell a lie without part of the truth. And if you tell the truth, you can’t lie. Not to her.
“Poppy… Ominis and I have been seeing each other.”
“Seeing each other?”
“S-sleeping together,” you mutter softly. Your hands go cold and the coldness travels up your shoulders and washes down your body, all the way to your toes under your striped lime and cherry blossom knitted socks Ominis gifted you with last Christmas.
“Sleeping together? Like in his dorm?”
“No,” you sigh. “Like sleeping together… sex.”
All color in her cheeks flush and she shoots off the bed like a rocket.
“You’re sleeping with Ominis!?”
You can’t bring yourself to repeat it. It’s not like you’re embarrassed, you just knew your girl best friends would react this way. Garreth would react this way or say he somehow already knew. But Sebastian’s always the one you’ve been scared of hurting.
You nod.
“And Sebastian?” She dares to ask with widened eyes.
“I… we... I don’t know Poppy. He and I, we’ve done it once. Two Christmas’ ago when he took me to meet his family in Feldcroft. I told Ominis about Sebastian, but I can’t tell Sebastian about Ominis. It’s happened too many times with him, Sebastian would never forgive us,” you cry.
“Y/n… I, for once don’t know what to say.”
“There’s not much you can say,” Sebastian groans, coming from the connected bathroom with a scowl.
“Why’re you in here!?” Poppy yelps.
“Other restrooms were taken. But that’s beside the point, Y/n, you betrayed me? You and Ominis went behind my back? Didn’t think to tell me, to just let me know? I had my suspicions, but I… I didn’t want to believe that my two best friends would go behind my back.”
“Seb, it’s not like that. It’s—“
“It’s what? You’re in love with him, aren’t you? That’s the only reason you wouldn’t tell me? You couldn’t bear hurting my feelings, so you just hid your own?”
You climb off the bed and walk over to him, tears still in your eyes as Poppy steps out the room to give you two privacy.
“Sebastian, I love you both, truly. But what I feel with Ominis…”
“You don’t feel with me?”
“Seb, what I feel for Ominis, I can’t keep hiding. But I love you too. Since our first night together, I’ve always felt something.”
Sebastian’s features fall as if everything in his life has come to a halt and has never been in his favor. You know this was never fair to him since the beginning, since his interest had been you, but yours had been in his best friend.
“I should’ve known, I tried to ignore the signs,” he sighs and falters a bit.
You reach out for him, wrapping your arms around him as he sobs into the crook of your neck. You want to say words, but they would change nothing. If anything, it’d probably make matters worse for the three of you. You don’t know what admitting your feelings will do to your friendship, but you can’t afford to lose either of them, not after having them this long.
Sebastian trembles softly in your arms as you rub his back.
“I don’t want things to end this way,” he mutters against your wet skin.
“Nothing has to end,” you reply and pull back to look at him through tear blurred eyes. “We don’t have to end anything.”
“But if you’re in love with him, it won’t ever be the same.”
“Sebastian… please.”
He shakes his head as it begins to settle in. As it does, Ominis steps into the room. You hear the lock snap shut and a soft sigh from Sebastian’s lips.
When you glance down at Sebastian, the smirk of his lips is what makes you uneasy. You’ve seen this smirk before, back in the living room of his uncle’s house in Feldcroft.
“Seb—“
You’re cut off by his lips pressing hungrily into yours. His palm massages into your curls and the other into the flesh of your ass under your short dress.
You moan softly, almost forgetting about Ominis who stands sheepishly near the door.
“Care to join?” Sebastian mutters into your neck before licking a stripe up the length.
“Perhaps somewhere more private.”
Sebastian chuckles, ready to take you anywhere as long as he can have you right now in this moment. He kisses you deeply, his own moaning sending vibrations throughout your lips and straight to your core. He’s inching closer to Ominis with each twist of his tongue, and once you’re close enough, you grip his shirt at the shoulder and apparate to the one place where you know you’ll have all the privacy in the world.
Your Room of Requirement.
Feel free to check out my other fanfics :)
Disclaimer: This is a pure work of fiction, but please don’t copy! Written purely for fun :) Please only repost to other socials w/my permission and credit! Reblogging w/credit is fine. Thank you! ♡
#fanfic#fanfiction#Hogwarts legacy#Sebastian sallow#hogwarts legacy sebastian#sebastian x mc#sebastian x ominis#hogwarts legacy mc#hogwarts legacy fanfic#hogwarts legacy smut#seb sallow#hogwarts legacy ominis#ominis gaunt#sebastian sallow x mc#sebastian sallow x you#ominis gaunt x mc#ominis gaunt x reader#ominis gaunt x sebastian sallow#hogwarts imagine#garreth weasley#garreth weasley x mc#hogwarts legacy drabble#ominis gaunt smut#sebastian sallow smut#poppy sweeting#natsai onai#ominis x sebastian#ominis x mc#ominis x reader#sebastian sallow x ominis gaunt
36 notes
·
View notes
Text
Arya watched them die and did nothing. What good did it do you to be brave? One of the women picked for questioning had tried to be brave, but she had died screaming like all the rest. There were no brave people on that march, only scared and hungry ones. (Arya VI, ACOK)
--
The night she was caught, the Lannister men had been nameless strangers with faces as alike as their nasal helms, but she'd come to know them all. You had to know who was lazy and who was cruel, who was smart and who was stupid. You had to learn that even though the one they called Shitmouth had the foulest tongue she'd ever heard, he'd give you an extra piece of bread if you asked, while jolly old Chiswyck and soft-spoken Raff would just give you the back of their hand. (Arya VI, ACOK)
Arya: *restrains herself from acting out when captured by the Mountain and his men because she knows fighting back/being brave wouldn't accomplish anything*
Arya: *takes note of the temperments of several Lannister guards so that she can learn how to navigate around their behavior*
Fandom: Arya is a feral idiot with no self-control uwu 🤗
#arya stark#asoiaf#a song of ice and fire#this is really just a small portion of her intelligence and self-control and yet...people can't stand the idea of Arya being more than#the brawn to somebody's brains. They literally can't handle her being her own character or not comparing her to somebody else#mind you this is all on top of how calculated she us when helping with the coup and planning her escape from harrenhal#none of these takes are even judging her based on the books it's all about her in comparison to [x] character...usually Sansa#Ned's /Sun and Moon/ quote has had a terrible impact on this fandom and their perception of the Stark sisters#Arya HAS to be the /wild + reckless/ counterpart to Sansa's cool + collected/ side lol and it's such a joke#even if you thought Arya was reckless for defending Mycah which is debatable she's gone through so much since then#and she would've been dead several times over if she was really as rash and impulsive as fandom wanted her to be#why people can't comprehend both sisters sharing qualities I don't know but it's hilarious considering this fandom's#/don't pit the Stark sisters against each other/ attitude...guess that only counts when it comes to propping up Sansa#at what point can we start calling this out for the misogyny it is?#fandom nonsense
142 notes
·
View notes
Text
“Slut!” - LN4 - part 2
pairings: lando norris x ex!singer!reader (fc: madison beer)
summary: after disappearing from the internet after her tour finished, yn comes back with a new song and a familiar face
type: social media au (smau)
authors note: sorry i keep disappearing ive just had so much going on and not enough time to do or start anything really new so i thought, why not revist an older work? ive honestly got no idea where this is going but oh well. i was thinking about just doing a continuation of because i liked a boy but decided to have her release another song bcs why not🤷
authors note 2: ill be honest i had no plan going into this and kind of went crazy. in this universe “Slut!” is obviously a love song and linked to the previous song because i liked a boy. also i hadnt planned to have the get back together but WHO CARES!! its also a lateish happy birthday to lando!!
masterlist part one
yourusername
liked by lilymhe, oscarpiastri and 1,107,719 others
got lovestruck went straight to my head
view comments
user7 MOTHERS IN LOVE??
user18 YOURE BACK WEVE MISSED YOU
yourusername i missed you guys too!!
user11 its been so long :’)
user9 have you had a good break??
yourusername i have, thank you!! been missing tour tho :(
lilymhe 🩵🩵
user36 where have you been we missed you
user77 she was probably just relaxing, shes been touring a while and then all the stuff with bilab too
yourusername added to their story
seen by landonorris, oliviarodrigo and 1,267,829 others
yourusername
liked by landonorris, max_fewtrell and 1,472,490 others
everyone wants him, that was my crime
view comments
author lets use our imagination and pretend on one of the bracelets you can see ‘n4’ 😁😁
user88 the bracelets are so cute!!
user6 who is this man🤨
user82 THE FLOWERS?? THE PIZZA?? SHES IN LOVE!!!
user60 girl did you miss the whole man in this post???
user79 i will never get over how gorgeous she is
user2 🙄🙄
user54 how long will we have to deal with you people
user22 we are all connecting the dots right😁
user61 ???
user22 first; caption, possibly hinting at lando. second; a bracelet on the first slide says ‘n4’ literally what would that mean but ln4?? next; the guy is playing a game lando always plays with max f on stream. therefore lando is with yn😁
user61 okayyyyy…
yourusername
liked by landonorris, riabish and 2,382,619 others
in a world of boys, hes a gentleman
comments have been limited
yourusername added to their story
seen by user66, danielricciardo and 2,184,528 others
yourusername
liked by landonorris, charles_leclerc and 2,482,610 others
but if im all dressed up, they might as well be looking at us. and if they call me a slut, you know it might be worth it for once🎀
tagged landonorris
comments on this post have been limited
landonorris im drunk in love🫶🫶
yourusername everything was worth it to have you by my side🌟🌟
#f1 x reader#f1 instagram au#f1 smau#f1 social media au#social media au#formula 1 insta au#formula 1 social media au#lando norris insta au#lando norris au#lando norris x reader#lando norris#lando norris social media au#formula 1 x reader#formula one x reader#singer!yn!lando
1K notes
·
View notes
Note
Hi I hope you’re well!! I just read the new chapter of the cat sitter and ugh I love that series so fucking much!! I was listening to a song and just knew you could create this.
So it a Max x reader smau where the reader is a mega pop star. Like Taylor Swift big and all eyes are on her. She gets invited to an F1 race by Redbull and joins their after party and gets to meet Max. Unfortunately Max is still dating K*lly. Reader is completely enamored by Max and writes break up with your girlfriend, I’m bored literally released it the next week. Everyone is losing their fucking mind trying to figure out who it is. Max knows it’s about him and he’s playing it cool and breaks it off with K*lly and starts secretly dating reader. Reader drops an album full of love/spicy songs like Gorgeous, Lover, Dress, 34+35, Positions etc etc and fucking hard launches them. Thanks!! If this is way too long and convoluted feel free to ignore.
Can’t wait to read more of your work because you absolutely body smau, it’s so good and the meme reaction pictures you use *chefs kiss*
break up with your girlfriend, i’m bored ✧ max verstappen
max verstappen x fem! singer! reader
masterlist
I LOVE THIS IDEA!! thank you @todaynotseen for your request🤍
[instagram]
ynupdates
liked by username and 492.289 others
ynupdates guess who is spotted at the paddock! y/n is at the austin gp as red bull’s special guest 🥰
view all 1.527 comments
username SLAY 🧎♀️
username can’t wait to see her interactions with the drivers!
username i’m surprised that she even had the time to go to a race? i thought she was super busy with the tour😭
↳ username i hope she’s taking care of herself🥲
username THAT OUTFIT?!??! 😍😍
username im not saying that y/n is the most beautiful girl that has ever walked the earth but that is exactly what im saying 🤷🏻♂️
username Hey @/redbullracing, how about inviting someone who actually gets F1 for a change? I’m so sick of seeing a random celebrity who probably don’t know a thing about racing
↳ username uHM excuse me?!?? y/n’s brother has always been a big fan of f1 and she often goes with him to watch the races😭
username ma’am please get back to the studio, i need more music😩
[messages]
[instagram]
[twitter]
[messages]
[twitter]
[spotify]
[instagram]
yourusername
liked by maxverstappen1 and 7.037.222 others
yourusername my muse <3
tagged maxverstappen1
comments on this post have been limited
maxverstappen1 Lover💙
taylorswift 😍
landonorris Max can’t stop singing your songs 😒
↳ danielricciardo Yeah, it’s getting annoying
↳ maxverstappen1 Ok, no signed CD for you guys
↳ landonorris WHAT NO IM SORRY PLEASE DONT MY SISTER WILL KILL ME 😭
brotherusername 😩😩😩
↳ yourusername couldn’t do this without you big bro😘
-
pictures (c) to pinterest and instagram
#max verstappen#formula 1#f1#max verstappen x reader#max verstappen x y/n#max verstappen x you#max verstappen imagine#max verstappen fanfic#max verstappen one shot#max verstappen social media#max verstappen smau#f1 x reader#f1 x y/n#f1 x you#f1 imagine#f1 fanfic#f1 one shot#f1 social media#f1 smau#archiverstappen
2K notes
·
View notes
Text
kiss cam
pairing: yang jungwon x fem!reader
genres: fluff, frenemies to lovers, high school au, basketball au
wc: 3770
warnings: profanity, mentions of kidnapping
summary: you were fully prepared to spend valentine’s day alone. yang jungwon was fully prepared to blow your mind.
note: i know i’m off season but i still hope y’all enjoy <3
masterlist
It was Valentine’s Week and you were absolutely, extremely, horribly miserable.
You didn’t particularly care about the celebrations, but the feeling of loneliness first began to creep in when the student council appointed a Valentine’s Day Dance committee and made them decorate the entire school.
There were banners and streamers hanging everywhere. The culinary club was selling heart-shaped cookies and the broadcasting club was busy urging students to get their dance invites every few hours. You wished the PA system would malfunction and they would finally shut up.
Some boys even had the genius idea to capitalise Valentine’s Day and ask people out on behalf of the students who paid them for their services. They called themselves Cop-Your-Crush.
Classes were being interrupted all day long. You were witnessing a grand proposal being made multiple times a day. Just today, you had seen three girls being asked out and each proposal had been better than the one before.
Karina got asked out through a song the choir group sang for her. She quite literally burst into tears because her boyfriend, Soobin, still remembered the song they had first kissed to.
NingNing got asked out when a member of Cop-Your-Crush sweet-talked Mrs. Kim into letting him take over her presentation. He’d prepared a cute montage using the pictures provided to him by her boyfriend.
Yeji got asked out by the cheerleaders. They had prepared a special cheer for her, courtesy of Heeseung, also a member of Cop-Your-Crush, and his girlfriend, Chaewon, who was cheer captain. They were both Yeji’s best friends and had spared no expense in helping her boyfriend deliver a memorable proposal.
You thought the entire concept was corny, but it would have been nice to have someone ask you out too. You didn’t even have any expectations. Just a simple Hey, will you be my date to the Valentine’s Dance? would have sufficed.
Needless to say, you were irritated and cranky. You were debating begging your mom to let you skip school tomorrow. It was the thirteenth of February, so Valentine’s spirit was definitely going to be at an all-time high.
You slammed your locker door shut. Slumping against it, you clutched your books to your chest and sighed deeply. If only you had the courage to ask your crush to the dance. It was sort of surprising that he still didn’t have a date.
He was really attractive and really popular. You wondered why—
“Keep moving, dummy,” a voice popped from behind you, and you couldn’t help the groan that left your mouth. Deciding to not acknowledge the person further, you pushed yourself off the locker and turned to leave in the opposite direction. However, they seemed to have different plans for you. Throwing an arm around your neck, Yang Jungwon twisted you around and said, “Class is this way.”
“Piss off, Yang,” you snapped, trying to not stumble as he dragged you along.
“Are you coming to the basketball game tonight?” Jungwon inquired.
He wasn’t much taller than you, so when you glanced up at him, you found your faces only a few inches apart. “Why?”
“We’re playing Riverside High. You know there’s a bet between our schools, right? Losers have to jump in the lake at midnight.”
“Okay. Let me know if you lose and I’ll meet you there to enjoy your humiliation.”
Jungwon narrowed his eyes and flicked your forehead. You let out a sound of protest and slapped his hand away. “You think you’re so funny.”
“I think I have better things to do,” you retorted. “I’m supposed to pick up my sister after her soccer practice and drive her to her friend’s house for a sleepover.”
“That can be taken care of,” he answered immediately. “Riki will do the chauffeuring in your place.”
You snorted. “No.”
“C’mon!” Jungwon complained, moving to stand in front of you. You crossed your hands and raised an eyebrow. “I need you at the game tonight.”
“Why?”
“Because—” he hesitated— “because we always win when you’re watching from the stands. You’re our lucky charm.”
Jungwon was making absolutely no sense. The Bears of Eastwood High were one of the best. They didn’t require lucky charms to win games. Besides, you’d never benefited from the so-called fortune Jungwon claimed you possessed. He definitely had an ulterior motive for wanting you at the court tonight.
“You won the Christmas game,” you pointed out. “I wasn’t there that day. I was with my family at my childhood home.”
“Well, I thought you were at the game,” Jungwon corrected. “That’s why we won.”
You sighed and rolled your eyes. Stepping past his figure blocking your way, you said, “You need to get rid of these superstitions.”
“Please!” he begged, following after you the way a lost puppy would. “Winning tonight would give us a ticket to regionals! Can’t you let me have this?”
The desperation in his voice was so evident that you couldn’t help the crack that appeared in your resolve. You weren’t one to believe in luck, but you still carried an Omamori to stay safe.
You hadn’t exactly been the recipient of any good fortune lately, but your life had been sailing smoothly. Come to think of it, you’d probably subconsciously begun to depend on the charm.
You were a hypocrite for making fun of Jungwon’s superstitions.
“Fine,” you relented. “I’ll come. But—” you added immediately upon seeing a wide grin replace the pout on his face— “after I’m done with my chores. I’m not leaving Hyeri with Riki. He crashed his car into a trashcan last week. I was with him. My life flashed in front of my eyes.”
Jungwon looked slightly amused. “Do you think you might be able to make it before half-time?”
“Easily.”
“Nice,” he popped. The two of you had arrived at your classroom, so he ruffled your hair and bid you goodbye before making his way towards his friend group. “I owe you one.”
“Yeah, you do,” you muttered to yourself.
You finished dropping your sister earlier than expected.
Her soccer practice had run short and when you’d checked your watch after seeing her off, you’d realised that the first quarter of the game would be ending in a few minutes.
You glanced up at the screen displaying the scores as you walked into the gymnasium.
8-3. Eastwood High in the lead.
Good luck was a scam. Shaking your head, you searched for your best friend, Eunchae, in the stands. Your eyes stopped on a girl who was aggressively waving her hands in the air.
You smiled and waved back, making your way to her.
“I was worried you’d be late,” Eunchae said.
You hummed. “Hyeri finished her practactice early so I was able to get here quicker. I don’t even know why Jungwon asked me to come. We’re in the lead.”
“Better safe than sorry,” she popped. “Second quarter just started. We should pay attention.”
You turned to look at the court. While you’d been talking to her, Riverside had scored a 3-pointer. Eastwood was only 2 points ahead now.
You could hear both schools’ coaches screaming despite the loud noise of the audience. Cringing a little when Mr. Jung blatantly cursed at Jungwon and told him to get his head out of his ass, you decided Eunchae had been right about being better safe than sorry.
“Timeout!” Riverside High’s coach yelled. “Timeout!”
The whistle rang and the playing 5 went jogging over to the sidelines. Jungwon’s eye caught yours as he scanned the stands and you waved at him awkwardly. He smiled and waved back, looking rather relieved to see you.
“You guys are so cute,” Eunchae commented.
You whirled on her. “Excuse me?”
“I’m just saying!” she exclaimed, raising her hands defensively. “Jungwon and you would make a really good couple.”
“What makes you think so?”
“Other than the fact that he’s completely whipped for you?” Eunchae shrugged. “You’re into him as well. No! Don’t give me that look! I know you are. I’m not fucking blind, Y/N. You say he’s annoying but I don’t see you pushing him away. I think you love the attention he gives you.”
You crossed your arms over your chest, suddenly feeling awfully exposed. “You’re delusional.”
“Am I though?” She raised an eyebrow. “You both are together all the time. You can pretend all you want, but I know your petty and childish banter is just a cover for the horrible amount of flirting that’s hidden underneath.”
“I don’t flirt with him!”
“He flirts with you and you entertain him! You claim to dislike him but hang out with him at school everyday! An idiot could tell by looking at you how much you enjoy being around him.”
You glared at Eunchae. “I don’t appreciate being psychoanalysed.”
“You just don’t appreciate the truth.” She shrugged. “I don’t know what’s stopping you from asking him out to the dance, but I hope you come to your senses. You don’t wanna regret missing out on someone who cares so much for you.”
Thankfully, the whistle rang before you could formulate a reply. The game began again, and you focused your attention on the court.
It was Eastwood’s way and the ball was in Jungwon’s hand. He aimed high and his eyes set on Jake who was standing at the far end of the court. However, instead of throwing the ball with all his might, he only flicked his wrist.
The ball bounced between a Riverside player’s legs, and Heeseung, who was waiting a little behind him, grabbed the ball immediately. Instead of dribbling, the boy passed the ball right back to Jungwon.
Jungwon caught it without stopping and sprinted to Eastwood’s side of the court. Your jaw dropped when you saw him manoeuvre his way through Riverside’s defence so flawlessly. Even though you’d watched him play multiple times, you’d never really been able to comprehend how good he was.
He’d covered the court by himself without needing to stop or backtrack. It was as if he knew the opponent’s move even before they decided to make it.
The crowd went wild the moment Jungwon executed the layup effortlessly. The whistle for half-time blew a few moments after and Eunchae turned to you.
“That was so good!” she squealed. “He could go pro so easily!”
“He could,” you agreed. “He really is very good.”
You had to admit—watching Jungwon in his element made your heart beat at speeds you didn’t even know it was capable of reaching. You convinced yourself it was the adrenaline and the anticipation from watching the game. Your dad never sat still whenever he watched his favourite team play in the World Cup.
“It’s time for the Kiss Cam.” Eunchae nudged you with her elbow. You turned to look at the big screen hanging from the roof of the gymnasium. The camera focused on Juyeon and Chaeyeon. The couple grinned and pointed at their recording on the screen in excitement before the latter grabbed the former’s collar and pulled him into a kiss.
You felt a smile form on your face. You’d always thought the two of them were one of the cutest couples in your school.
The camera then focused on Mr. Hwang, your biology teacher, and Mrs. Jung, your calculus teacher. You hooted and joined everyone else in the stands as they encouraged the two teachers to kiss.
Whoever had decided the Kiss Cam victims was a genius. Mr. Hwang and Ms. Jung were the youngest faculty members in your school. It was a popular opinion amongst students that they looked cute together. Some even placed bets on whether it would be Mr. Hwang to make the first move or Ms. Jung.
Naturally, the two of them didn’t kiss. They just smiled in embarrassment and waved at the camera, asking it to focus on someone else instead.
You waited eagerly to see who the drone would target next. A jolt passed through your body when you saw yourself on the screen.
Eyes widening, you shook your head and tried to tell them that you were single. The camera didn’t move despite your protests, instead zooming out to include Eunchae in the frame instead.
You paused.
Looked at her.
Considered.
Raised an eyebrow.
“I’m down if you—”
“To your left, you idiot!” she exclaimed, grabbing your shoulders and whirling you around.
Yang Jungwon was standing in front of you with flowers in his hands. His hair was dripping with sweat and his cheeks were flushed. He was panting, but there was a shy smile on his face.
Your heart stopped as he got down on his knees and the entire gymnasium burst into cheers.
“Hey,” he popped.
“Hey,” you answered with much effort. Then added stupidly, “You’re on your knees.”
“No comment about the flowers?”
“Not when you’re on your knees for me in front of the entire school.”
“Oooh, I didn’t know you were so kinky.”
“I didn’t know this was why you begged me to come to the game.”
He laughed and the sound was like music to your ears. You were nervous. You were rambling. There was no way he was going to ask you to the dance. He wouldn’t be stalling so much if he was. He wouldn’t—
Oh.
He was giving you time to wrap your head around what was happening. This was clearly intended to be a well-planned surprise meant to catch you completely off-guard. He—
“Yeah, I would’ve been really bummed out if you hadn’t shown up. My efforts would have been for nothing.”
“So I’m not actually your lucky charm?”
“Of course, you are. I feel the luckiest when I’m with you.” Your chest swelled with an emotion you couldn’t identify. The gymnasium faded into the background and all you could hear was the sound of your heart thudding against your ribcage and Jungwon’s voice as he asked,
“Will you make me lucky again by accompanying me to the Valentine’s Dance?”
The game had ended twenty minutes ago.
Eastwood had won by 10 points. You’d thought the difference was pretty good but your Mr. Woo, your school’s coach, didn’t seem to share your opinion. He’d claimed that Riverside never even should have been able to get within 15 points of Eastwood.
He’d been especially tense in the second half of the third quarter when the opposition had begun scoring back to back baskets. It had all worked out in the end nonetheless, all thanks to Yang Jungwon, the MVP of the match.
You still couldn’t believe he’d asked you out and you refused to believe he’d done it in such a grand way.
He was the definition of a jock and goofed around in school all day long. He was charming, sure, but you’d never known he was capable of pulling off something this big.
You’d never even suspected he was a romantic.
Your phone dinged and you unlocked it to check who was texting you.
[eunchae]: wya?
[y/n]: parking lot!! are u here? i’m leaning against my car
[eunchae]: noo i’m home :( btw are u still waiting for him??
[y/n]: yeah he asked me to but the team hasn’t come out of the gym yet
[eunchae]: yikes i heard mr. woo was hella mad we only won by 10 points.. maybe he’s yelling at the players right now
[y/n]: i’m p sure he is LMFAO
Your fingers hovered over your phone’s screen as you waited for Eunchae to type her reply. However, before she could send it, you felt the device being grabbed from your hand.
“What the—” you started, but relaxed when you saw Jungwon standing in front of you with an amused expression on his face. “Yang.”
He quirked an eyebrow. “Someone could have easily kidnapped you, you know?”
“We live in the most boring part of the town.” You snorted. “Baek Seung threatening to chop his neighbour’s tree on local TV was the most interesting thing that happened this year.”
“That doesn’t mean you shouldn’t be on your guard,” Jungwon said and moved next to you, leaning against the side of your car as well. He was wearing black sweats and a red hoodie. He smelt of cheap soap and his hair was damp, making you realise that he had probably showered. “Besides, Baek Sung actually followed through. We have a real criminal in our ranks.”
“Didn’t you literally let five sheep loose in our middle school three years ago?”
“That was just a harmless middle school graduating prank.”
“There’s no such thing as a middle school graduating prank.”
“Tell that to the current 8th graders who are planning their prank. I hear they’re going to stuff the hallway outside the principal’s office with helium balloons so she won’t be able to leave.”
You stared at him, a small smile playing on your lips. Jungwon’s eyes dropped to your mouth for a millisecond before he looked into your eyes again.
“Why did you ask me to the dance?” you asked and turned on your side to face him. It was a stupid question but you were genuinely curious.
Eunchae was right before. Jungwon flirted with you all the time and you always entertained him. You enjoyed the attention he gave you. But if this thing between you was just platonic, and if it was never going to progress into something real, you needed to know now.
You didn’t want to hope and wait for something that was never going to happen.
“Sunoo said I was an idiot for not shooting my shot with you,” he replied and turned on his side too. “He threatened to make a move on you if I didn’t get my shit together before Valentine’s Day.”
You snorted.
“Oh, also,” Jungwon added. “I really, really like you.”
You felt a tidal wave of emotions override your senses. Euphoria, nervousness, breathlessness, giddiness, uncertainty and this inexplicable urge to squeal washed over you.
Your heart went haywire inside your chest when Jungwon leaned closer to you and dipped his head so that his face was right in front of yours.
“You’re blushing,” he whispered.
You squeaked and buried your face in your hands. He grabbed your wrists and gently moved them out of the way. “Can I kiss you?”
“I think that would be a health hazard,” you croaked, looking at anywhere but him. “My heart is beating concerningly fast right now. What if I drop dead?”
“I can do CPR.”
The corner of your mouth quirked up in a small smile. Your heart beat slowed down and you began feeling at ease. You wondered if Jungwon could tell that this was the first time someone had confessed to you.
The entire concept of dating and being in a relationship was foreign to you. You doubted Jungwon had much experience in the field himself since he’d only had one girlfriend in kindergarten, but he seemed confident.
You trusted him to take over the wheel and guide you through the strange waters of love.
“Okay,” you breathed and closed your eyes. “Kiss me.”
His hands cupped your cheeks, his soft lips brushing against yours. You sucked in a breath and just stood there, not really knowing what to do.
Your hands itched to grab onto something, so you shifted closer to Jungwon and clutched the front of his hoodie in your fists.
He smiled against your mouth as you rose on your toes and tilted your head to the side.
But then you realised something and hastily broke the kiss. Jungwon stared at you in confusion, but before he could ask what was wrong, you blurted, “I like you too.”
There was a pause. He didn’t say anything for a long moment, so you clarified, “I thought I should make that clear. I mean, you confessed but I didn’t confess back even though I feel the same way and what if you thought I wasn’t into you. I am into you, by the way. I’ve been crushing on you since forever but I never knew how to say it—”
Jungwon swooped in for a second kiss and you melted in his arms. You could get used to the feeling of his lips on yours. They fit together perfectly.
“You are so cute.” He giggled after detaching his mouth from yours. Resting his forehead against yours, he continued, “Eunchae told me last week. She urged me to confess because she knew your stubbornness would never allow you to make the move.”
“What?” you exclaimed, jerking away from him. “Where’s my phone? Give me my damn phone, Yang!”
He grabbed arms before you could lunge at him and search him for your device. “Relax!”
“I’m going to kill her!”
“Why?!”
“Because—” you sputtered, struggling to get out of his grip— “because it’s embarrassing! I was pretending to not like you but you knew I was crushing on you the entire time!”
“It’s not embarrassing!” Jungwon said. “It’s normal—Y/N stop!”
You let your body fall limp in his arms. “I’m going home. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“You’re seriously not going to let Eunchae’s nosiness stop us from having our first date, are you?”
“What?” you asked and moved out of his grip.
He shrugged and shoved his hands into pockets. “It’s nothing special. I was going to ask if you wanted to go out for some food.”
“Oh,” you replied blankly. “Don’t you have a celebratory dinner with your team though?”
“I can ditch them.”
“You shouldn’t.”
“Let me correct myself: I already ditched them. I want to spend tonight and celebrate with you.”
Your heart swelled with happiness. “Really?” When was the last time someone outside of your parents prioritised you? You genuinely couldn’t remember.
“Of course. Do you wanna get some McDonald’s?”
You nodded, but before he could make his way to the passenger’s seat of your car, you said, “Just so you know, I feel the luckiest when I’m with you too.”
Yang Jungwon kissed you for the third time, and by no means was it the last, or even close to the last one you shared that day.
#enhypen imagines#jungwon imagines#enhypen scenarios#jungwon scenarios#enhypen fluff#jungwon fluff#enhypen x reader#jungwon x reader#enhypen reactions#enhypen headcanons#enhypen oneshots#jungwon oneshots#enhypen fanfiction#jungwon fanfiction#yang jungwon#enhypen#enhypen drabbles#jungwon drabbles#enhypen soft hours#jungwon soft hours#enhypen timestamps#jungwon timestamps#enhypen blurbs#jungwon blurbs#enhypen fanfic#jungwon fanfic
1K notes
·
View notes
Text
Kurt Cobain Will Have His Revenge on the Straights
Had a video call with my brother Chuck the other day. Things got heavy:
KATE: Was Kurt Cobain a trans woman?
CHUCK: What?
Kurt Cobain. Rock musician. He was in a band called Nirvana.
I’m familiar with him, yes.
Was he a trans woman?
Um. No?
OK. Why not?
I mean, he wasn’t. It’s like asking why he wasn’t an astronaut.
He wasn’t an astronaut because he never went to space. Why wasn’t he a trans woman?
Because he didn’t transition. I mean, he didn’t ever say he was a woman, didn’t ever say he was trans. So no. Kurt Cobain wasn’t a trans woman.
So someone is trans if they say they’re trans. Self-determination.
That’s what you’ve told me. Is that wrong?
No, that’s right. We know ourselves better than anybody else can know us. If we say we’re trans, nobody can say we aren’t.
And Kurt Cobain never said he was trans.
So was I trans in 1994?
I don’t know, were you?
Yes, but if you’d asked me in 1994, I would have told you “no”.
So if I tell you I’m trans, I’m trans…
Right.
But if I tell you I’m cis, I might still be trans?
If you tell me you’re cis, I believe you.
That’s not the same thing as “I’m cis”.
That’s a really good point. This is sort of what some queer people are getting at when they say “gender is a construct”.
Come again?
Well, you’re cisgender, right?
As far as I know, yes.
Aha.
Hmmm?
You hedged. “As far as I know” isn’t the same thing as “yes”. “As far as I know” opens up the possibility that you could be trans and not know it.
It doesn’t seem terribly likely.
That’s an interesting statement. Early on in transition one of the biggest problems I had was dealing with the sheer unlikelihood of my being trans. I mean, I knew trans people existed. I knew somebody had to be trans. I just couldn’t wrap my head around the idea that it would be me.
Do you think this is why you’re on this whole “Kurt Cobain was a trans woman” kick?
Hey now, I’m just asking questions. You know. Like J.K. Rowling is “just asking questions”.
Kate, you are literally wearing a T-shirt that says “KURT COBAIN WAS A TRANS WOMAN” on it right now.
Am I? Oh, shit. I thought I was wearing my “Skip school, take hormones, kill God” T-shirt. To your question, though - yeah, I do think that’s part of it. Honestly, the hardest thing about growing up trans was believing that nobody in the world had ever experienced what I was experiencing. I didn’t have any role models. I didn’t wonder if I was the only one. I was convinced of it.
So being able to say that this incredibly gifted songwriter, the voice of a generation, was a trans woman like you…
I need someone like that. I need to not be the first of my kind.
Of course you’re not the first trans woman.
No, but before a couple of years ago almost every trans woman would tell you they always knew, unquestionably and innately, that they were women.
So it’s not just about him being trans, but specifically his being a trans woman who didn’t know he was a trans woman.
An egg. Right.
Why Kurt Cobain, anyway? What’s so special about him that you’re trying to induct him into the Egg Hall of Fame?
He knew things. Things cis guys don’t know. Things I didn’t know until after I started transition. He understood women, what we’re like, what we experience. “Pennyroyal Tea”. “Rape Me”. I just have a hard time thinking of a cis man who could write songs like that.
It wouldn’t be the only way in which he was exceptional.
True. Ahhh. I don’t know. I mean, I know, I can give you all the reasons, but there’s something in his eyes.
Something in his eyes.
All the pictures of him. No matter what he’s doing. If he’s grinning, or sad, whatever he’s doing, you can see something trapped there. Trapped and in pain, wanting to get out but not quite knowing how.
Huh. You, uh, know that what you’re doing is pretty much the textbook definition of projection, right?
Maybe. Chuck, do you think I’m happier?
Since you transitioned?
Yeah.
Of course. Absolutely. Night and day.
Everyone says that, and honestly, I see it. Even in pictures, you know? I see it. You’ve seen some of my transition timelines, right?
You do look really different.
It’s not just me. Every single person who transitions looks like that. We look so much happier, so much more alive, so much more us. I don’t understand how anybody can hate us.
I don’t get it either, Kate.
And when I look at any timelines, I look at the before photos… and I see something in their eyes. Transmasc, transfem, doesn’t matter. There’s something trapped wanting to get out. Every picture I’ve ever seen of Kurt Cobain looks like the “before” picture on a transition timeline. It’s just that with him, there aren’t any after pictures.
And it’s not just the eyes, either. The way he dressed, the whole “grunge look”. It’s just literally egg fashion. We dress with total disregard for our appearance or how we look because no matter what we do it’s wrong.
“Egg fashion”, egg this, egg that… isn’t it a little bit anachronistic, judging him by 2022 standards, 2022 values?
Is it? Chuck, I was alive in 1994. I was an 18 year old egg. I know what that feels like. I know what that looks like. I lived that. Why didn’t I come out as trans in 1994? Because I didn’t have the opportunity. Because self-determination needs to be informed, and none of us were. None of us. Look. You know what he said to Melody Maker in 1991? “I knew I was different. I thought that I might be gay or something because I couldn't identify with any of the guys at all.” That’s what he said.
Holy shit. Really?
Really. September 14, 1991.
Hold on, let me look that up. Oh, yeah, I see it. Look, if you look at the full quote he’s just saying he’s not a jock. Like he didn’t fit in with the jocks.
Well, what about the dresses?
What dresses?
Kurt Cobain wore a lot of dresses. Like, a lot, both onstage and off. On MTV in 1991, he said “It’s ‘Headbanger’s Ball’ so I thought I’d wear a gown.” He said in a 1993 interview, “I personally like to wear dresses. I wear them around the house sometimes.” This is not some shameful secret he kept hidden from the world. He was open about this. He was proud about this.
Yeah, but… it’s just clothes.
Except it’s not just clothes. Listen to his songs. Listen to his lyrics. “Should have been a son”. “I’m a lady, can you save me?” “Everyone is gay.” The original lyrics to “All Apologies” from his journals – “Boys write songs for girls. Let me grow some breasts.”
I mean they’re song lyrics. There are all kinds of ways to interpret song lyrics.
Sure. All kinds of ways. You ever read Michael Azerrad’s biography of Cobain, Come As You Are?
Nope.
Azerrad spent weeks talking to Cobain. He was Cobain’s biographer, but also his friend. And he has his own interpretation of the lyrics. For instance, Azerrad talks about all the lyrics about guns, and to me, now, I look at that, and I think of how he died, but Azerrad, when Kurt was alive, he looked at it another way. He thought it’s about dicks. “To paraphrase Dr. Freud,” he says, “sometimes a gun is just a gun. But not this time.” He talks about “Come As You Are”, where Kurt keeps singing “I swear I don’t have a gun.” That’s not my interpretation. That’s never been my interpretation. That’s what this cis man says. More than one cis man. Kurt says Dave Grohl’s dad, he said the same thing. Yeah. There are all kinds of ways to interpret lyrics.
“By this time,” Azerrad wrote, “one begins to wonder how Kurt rationalizes being a man at all. His first response is revealing. ‘I don’t know,’ he says. ‘Castration.’” I don’t wonder how Kurt rationalizes being a man. I rationalized “being a man” in all kinds of ways. What strikes me is that he needed to rationalize being a man. Had to come up with some kind of excuse. It just strikes me kind of funny.
Kurt’s songs have meanings. The lyrics to “In Bloom”, Kurt was pretty explicit about that. The lyrics he wrote have meanings. “Heart-Shaped Box”. You know what that refers to? When Courtney Love was flirting with Kurt, Michael Azerrad says in Come As You Are, “She gave Dave (Grohl) a package to give to Kurt – little sea shells and miniature teacups and a tiny doll, all packed into a small heart-shaped box.” A tiny doll locked away inside a box shaped like a heart. That was what I felt like before I came out. A tiny phantom doll. Kurt and Courtney first kissed after a show at the Cabaret Metro in Chicago. Rumor was that they fucked against the bar, but they denied it. What actually happened, Azerrad says, is that “Courtney had a bag of lingerie with her for some reason and Kurt ended up modeling the contents.” And then they went to Kurt’s hotel room and they fucked.
You’re making it sound…
Maybe it was. Because you look at that and you think that if it was like that, it was perverted and wrong, because that’s what you were told, that it’s a sick fetish thing, and I look at it and it isn’t. To me, that’s normal. That Kurt Cobain was sexually aroused while wearing Courtney Love’s lingerie, that’s normal.
Kate, he was a punk! He hated jocks, and wearing a dress pissed off jocks, so he wore dresses. He talked about wanting to wear a dress and piss on a redneck A&R man’s desk! You think that was some kind of sex thing?
Sexuality is part of being a woman. Part. Rage – and Kurt Cobain had a lot of rage inside him – that’s another part. Am I interpreting, am I looking at things from my perspective as a trans woman? Yes, certainly, just like you’re interpreting, looking at it from your perspective as a cis man. When cis people interpret things, their conclusion is never “they were trans”. Never.
Ed Wood wasn’t a trans woman. He was just a transvestite. He was a man.
Pete Burns from Dead or Alive wasn’t a trans woman. Sure, he got all sorts of feminizing surgeries, but he never said he was a woman. Man.
Prince Nelson adopted a female persona, feminized his voice, and recorded a song about wanting to be a woman's girlfriend, but he was also a Christian and believed that being queer was wicked and sinful, and that's the identity of his we need to respect. Man.
Richard Wright, who wrote the Phish song “Halley’s Comet”, spent most of the 1980s telling everyone he knew he was a transsexual lesbian named Nancy, but after being consistently treated like shit changed his mind about that, so none of that counts for anything. Man.
Dave Carter was on HRT when he died, but he was just questioning. He didn’t tell anybody for sure that he was a woman. Man.
Quentin Crisp said just before he died that if he was younger, he absolutely would have transitioned, but wanting to transition isn’t the same as actually transitioning. Man.
All men. Always, always men, whatever they do, whatever they say. I know how that works. I was told all these same things about myself for decades, all these same reasons, and now, I don’t know, I guess people will make a personal exception for me, but for everybody else, the same old assumptions, the same old arguments, they still apply. They’re still legitimate.
I thought we were talking about Kurt Cobain.
And the only way to do that is to talk about him in isolation. There’s no larger context to consider, no bigger picture. I can’t really know. I can’t really judge.
I mean, everybody else does. I guess I can’t tell you not to. But all of this circumstantial evidence, all of the dresses and the lyrics that you I guess know the real meaning of – none of that makes him a girl.
Sure. And nothing can make him a girl. Because he’s dead. Because he killed himself.
Oh, here we go. After thirty years and countless speculation, you have at last uncovered the real reason Kurt Cobain killed himself – gender dysphoria. Do you have a book deal yet?
Working on it. And yes, people say a lot of stupid things about Cobain’s death, like it’s this big shock that this guy who hated himself and wanted to die killed himself.
Right. He was pretty well-known for being a heroin addict, which isn’t exactly something that improves one’s quality of life.
Sure, but why did he start heroin?
I don’t know. Why does anybody start heroin?
To help him cope with his eating disorder.
Wait, what? Eating disorder?
You don’t know about that? He had stomach problems, for a long, long time. He could only eat certain kinds of food, certain kinds of food that wouldn’t make his stomach hurt. Doctors looked but they could never find any organic cause for it. Nobody took it seriously. So he self-medicated with heroin. “It was my choice,” he told Azerrad. “I don’t regret it at all because it was such a relief from not having stomach pain every day.” I know, though. Lots of cis guys have eating disorders. Doesn’t mean anything.
Kate there’s a lot of interpreting going on here.
Yeah, I guess there is. Is that necessarily a bad thing, though? Is that necessarily wrong? Like. You’ve seen The Matrix, right?
Only the first one.
Yeah, that’s fine. So you know how important The Matrix is to a lot of trans women, right?
Yes, but I’m not really sure why. Just seems like a retelling of Plato’s “Allegory of the Cave” with extra fight scenes.
It’s pretty trans, though, right?
Clearly. It was directed by two trans women.
And trans women who watch it – eggs or otherwise – find their own lives and experiences reflected in it in ways that cis people, like you, don’t.
I guess, but the fact that it was actually made by two trans women carries a little more weight with me.
OK, but what if the Wachowskis had died in 2000? In, like… a car crash or something? Does that mean The Matrix isn’t a trans film?
Well, no, because it’s still a film made by two trans women.
A film made by two trans women that speaks to the trans experience, and that is recognized by living trans women as speaking specifically to the trans experience. The only difference is that, in this scenario, nobody knows the Wachowski Sisters are trans women. And we can’t prove it. We can’t possibly prove it, and nobody is going to just believe us when we say it’s a trans movie, that the Wachowskis were trans women, because they didn’t say it, they didn’t say the special magic words. Self-determination. You know what self-determination meant to Kurt Cobain? I remember seeing Courtney Love on television reading his note, I remember her interrupting to say that he was an asshole, that what he was saying was bullshit. She didn’t respect his self-determination.
Um…
“Pennyroyal Tea”. Cobain told Azerrad “It's a cleansing theme where I’m trying to get all my bad evil spirits out of me and drinking Pennyroyal tea would cleanse that away.” Pennyroyal is an abortifacient – but, Azerrad notes, only in lethal doses.
Hell, not just that song. The whole album. In Utero. The collage on the back cover, the one Cobain described to Azerrad as “Sex and woman and In Utero and vaginas and birth and death". The occult symbols surrounding it, taken from Barbara G. Walker’s The Woman's Dictionary of Symbols and Sacred Objects1. There was something inside Kurt Cobain, something inside him waiting to be born, but he was told, over and over, that it was a monster, so he killed it, the only way he could. By killing himself.
That could have been me. That could so easily have been me. I was told all the same things he was. We all were. When I was 27? When I was 27, I was addicted to benzos, benzos they prescribed me because I was trying to bury, trying to kill this thing, this thing I had inside of me. I was a zombie. Walking dead. When I quit, I quit cold turkey. Nobody told me about the withdrawal syndrome. Nobody told me it could have killed me. And if it had, everybody would remember me, everybody would think of me, as a cis man. Forever. They would perpetuate the Lie. That’s why I transitioned, why I chose to go through all the shit I went through. The writer and musician Margaret Killjoy, in 2017 she talked about what she went through the day before she came out:
“All I could think was: ‘Oh god, I don’t want to die a boy.’”2
I felt the same way, came out for the same reason. I figured no matter what I did, I was dead. I didn’t do it live, but to at least have an honest death. I genuinely believed transition would kill me.
It didn’t, though! You’re alive and you’re beautiful and I’m so, so glad for that. It didn’t kill you.
It could have. Still could. Transition has helped, has made it easier for me, but it’s not that way with everyone. People have been kind to me, in ways that they aren’t kind to other trans women. Others of us… aren’t so lucky.
Who are we respecting, exactly, by remaining silent about our shared experiences, our shared perspectives, things we see that you fucking don’t, that you can’t see? Of course I can’t prove it. I can’t prove that I’m trans. You can’t prove that you’re cis. Cis people, though, cis people never have to prove anything. Their prejudices are the null hypothesis3. If I was to go out there and say that Kurt Cobain was a cisgender man, would anybody say I was wrong? Would anybody object or complain? Even though my saying that is an anachronism, is meaningless. The word, the concept, it literally didn’t exist when Cobain died. Have you ever heard the word “agnotology”?
No?
It means making a false claim to ignorance. Claiming that we don’t know something that we do. That we can’t know something that we can. We know things now, Chuck. We know what the symptoms of gender dysphoria are. We know what it does to people. How eggs think. How eggs act. How eggs die. But we pretend we don’t. We still pretend. We pretend suicide is an individual act, even when we know it’s not, that the reasons for it are wholly personal. We pretend that when someone dies by suicide, their reasons for doing so die with them. And they don’t, Chuck. We’re still dying, still dying for the same reasons Kurt Cobain did. It’s not just that we aren’t allowed to recognize ourselves. We aren’t allowed to recognize each other. Individual choice or social contagion. Those are the options we’re given. And neither of them are right. Neither of them are who we are.
Kurt Cobain wrote, thought, talked, died like eggs do. I don’t care if he never said the magic fucking words. We know our own. We recognize each other. And if someone is alive? If someone is alive I will go my whole life without ever breathing a word. Because as long as we’re alive, we do choose, and that means we can choose ignorance. What I think, what I want, for someone else, for us, it doesn’t matter. I do that, I follow that code, for the benefit of one person – the egg themselves. Once they die, all bets are off. Omerta no longer applies. Kayfabe no longer applies.
To be queer is to be erased, to experience erasure. I still hear straight men arguing, as if they have any right to argue, as if they know, that Emily Dickinson was not a lesbian. Emily Dickinson! I’m supposed to listen to people who say this shit? I’m supposed to take them seriously when they say well, actually, calling Dickinson a “lesbian” is historically anachronistic, we can’t apply the standards of the present to the past, and Jesus fuck have you read her letters? She liked girls. She really liked girls. Kurt Cobain was a trans woman. Kurt Cobain was every bit as much a trans woman as Emily Dickinson was a lesbian. Refusing to say it isn’t “respect”. It’s perpetuating the crime perpetrated against Cobain, against every other trans woman who ever killed herself because of the lies we were told about ourselves. No more. Kurt Cobain was a trans woman. I can’t, as an individual, say that. I don’t have the right. No trans woman can say that, individually. But collectively? All of us together? The things we see in each other, we see those things in him too. Not all of them, and not all of us. Absolutely not all of us. But enough of us. Enough that we have the right. We have the right, and I will fucking say it, and if you don’t like that, you can go fuck yourself.
Kate, are you ok?
I’m fine.
Do you want a hug?
Fuck you, Chuck.
OK, well. I’m, uh. Gonna go to the other room. You should, uh. Drink some water. Stay hydrated. Love you, Kate.
Love you too, Chuck. Sorry.
Shhh. It’s OK, Kate. It’s OK.
1 Diane Purkiss criticizes the occult nature of Walker’s encyclopedia in "Women's Rewriting of Myth", in Carolyne Larrington (ed), The Feminist Companion to Mythology, London, 1992, p. 444: “In Donna Haraway's influential terms, these women may wish to be goddesses, but they are cyborgs all the same”. The work she’s referencing is Haraway’s “A Cyborg Manifesto”. Haraway was, it happens, an academic advisor to the trans woman Sandy Stone, and her “Cyborg Manifesto” was a pivotal influence on Stone’s “The Empire Strikes Back: A Post-Transsexual Manifesto”, one of the foundational works of transgender theory.
2 Margaret Killjoy, https://birdsbeforethestorm.net/2017/06/im-not-even-going-to-try-to-pass/
3 Natalie Reed, https://freethoughtblogs.com/nataliereed/2012/04/17/the-null-hypothecis/
9K notes
·
View notes
Text
𝕍𝕒𝕟𝕚𝕥𝕪 𝔽𝕒𝕚𝕣 ~ 𝔻𝕣𝕖𝕨 𝕊𝕥𝕒𝕣𝕜𝕖𝕪
“ I’m (y/n) (l/n) and we’re the cast of Outer Banks and today, we’re going to test how well we know each other.” You smiled looking between the camera and the group to your left. Carlacia raised her hand as she motioned between you and Drew, “Drew shouldn’t be allowed to answer any of these because none of us will even have a chance.”
Everyone let out sounds of agreement as you shook your head, reading the first question, “I don’t know. These are questions that made me think about my answer.”
“Okay, oo. This is a good one. What movie animal is my dog named after?”
“I don’t think you’ve ever mentioned this.” Drew told you but you shook your head in disagreement, “I’ve mentioned it before but I think it was when you guys first met him.”
“The adventures of Milo and Otis?” Chase asked and Madison agreed but you shook your head. Both Austin and Drew leaned forward to try and read the car but you quickly pulled away, tucking the card against your chest, “Cheaters!”
“What movie has a dog named Milo in it?”
“Oh! The mask! His dogs name is Milo!” Rudy answered and you flipped your card, showing ‘The Mask’, “I’m a huge Jim Carrey fan and since Milo is also a jack russell, it was fate.”
“Oo, you guys are never going to get this one,” you laughed, reading the card, “it literally took me so long to even think about this one. When I was 5, I jumped off the banister and had to get stitches. Where were the stitches?”
Everyone looked over at Drew, who would be the only one to remotely know the answer but he just tilted his head at you in thought.
“Your head?” Madelyn asked but you shook your head, “Nope. My sister did though. Cracked her head open.”
“How are you and your sister still alive?” Austin asked, looking at you in surprise as you shrugged before writing your answer on the card.
“Your legs?” JD asked, snapping his fingers at you
“Nope. Not even close.”
Drew clapped his hands once as he looked over at you, “Your tongue. You bit through your tongue and had to get 6 stitches.”
“Your tongue?!?” Madison asked, looking over at you in shock as you flipped your card, showing the answer, “Yes. I smacked my chin on the arm of the couch and bit right through my tongue. My tongue was stuck and I had to get stitches.”
“You just need to live in a bubble at this point, girl.” Carlacia laughed as everyone agreed with her.
“What do I think is the grossest thing a person can do?”
“THROWING UP!” Drew and JD shouted at the same time as they high fived. You cringed as you showed your card that read ‘throwing up’ as the answer.
“I hate throwing up. I hate the way I feel before, during, and after. It’s just so gross and gives me the ick.” You shuddered as Austin patted your leg, “The first time she threw up in front of us, she cried because of how grossed out she was.”
“That was traumatizing for all of us,” Rudy explained, “we were out on a boat and she just went very pale and threw up. Everywhere. We had no idea what had happened and then she just started bawling her eyes out. We all started panicking, thinking something was wrong but then she said how she hated throwing up and it just…it killed the whole vibe.”
You chucked the marker cap at Rudy, who ducked but went to retrieve it, “Sorry that being seasick killed the vibe, dillhole.”
Letting out a laugh at the nest question, you looked over at Drew and shook your head, “you’re not allowed to answer this one. You’ll get the answer right away.”
“I’ve known all of these, baby,” he winked and your face went red as you hid it behind the card, “just trying to give them a chance.”
“You guys gross me out.” Madelyn teased, looking between you two
“What is my favorite show to binge?” You asked, but you wrote down two possible answers.
“That 70s show is one.” Chase answered, “I always hear the theme song in your trailer and you quote it constantly.”
“You also watch the walking dead a lot too.” JD added, pointing to Chase, “you yell at your laptop a lot.”
“Dude, you have no idea how long it took me to get used to her yelling at the tv.” Drew told him, “the first time she did it, I thought she was pissed at me for no reason but she was just watching the walking dead.”
Everyone started talking about how into your shows you get, causing you to hold up your hands in protest, “Okay, okay! There’s nothing wrong with being passionate about movie and tv shows. But yes, that 70s show and the walking dead are my go to.”
“Two complete opposite shows, by the way.” Madison pointed out
“Oo, how many tattoos do I have?”
Everyone went quiet as they stared at you, no doubt picturing the tattoos that laid under your clothes. You had been purposely asked to wear a long sleeve top and pants to not let them get the answer so easily.
“I wanna say…12?” Carlacia asked, tilting her head at you, “Most of them are on your right arm but I know you have a few on your left. You have the fairy wings on your back…”
“I know you have a dinosaur on your leg because I drew a hat on it last week.” Austin answered, causing you to look up from writing your answer, furrowing your eyebrows at him, “you drew a hat on Terrance?”
“You named the dinosaur Terrance?” JD laughed as you nodded, “Terrance the triceratops.”
“Terry, for short.” Drew added, pointing at you as you nodded
“I wanna say 10 or 15.” Madison said, leaning forward, “I know you got P4L after season 2 came out.”
“You only had like 2 when the show started.”
“There’s a few you guys don’t know about cause they’re always covered.” You told them, going over your answer. Drew didn’t even miss a beat with his response, “Well, they don’t. But I do.”
“Okay! Who’s next?!”
#outer banks#drew starkey#rafe cameron#drew starkey imagine#rafe cameron imagines#rafe cameron imagine#outer banks imagines#rafe obx#outer banks imagine#rafe cameron smut#obx#obx rafe#drew starkey smut#drew starkey imagines#obx rafe cameron#obx3#outer banks x reader#drew starkey x reader#rafe cameron x reader
3K notes
·
View notes
Note
hello! would you mind doing some soft hcs for shouto, i mean like the ones you did with hawks & bakugo, please???
- YES. shoto is so babygirl and I love him and I want him so i’m so glad someone reminded me to do this. i hope I did this some justice with the psychotic ideas that pop up in my head, ENJOY ^_−
———————————————————————————
soft shoto hcs
- this song is literally the type of music shoto would listen to while thinking of you at like 3am, and he’d sing the “we should stick together, you’re my best friend I’ll love you forever” part while imaging your smile. it’s tru because I said so, if u don’t think so just remember I don’t care what u think if it opposes what I think, uno the vibe. (^_−)−☆
———————————————————————————
(just some SFW soft headcanons of what shoto would be like in a relationship)
————————————————————
- shoto can’t sleep without you, at all. you either have to be beside him, or on a FaceTime call with him so that he can rest properly. your light snoring is comforting to him and he likes staring at your face while you sleep. he studies all your features and traces them lightly with his thumb if he can. he holds you so gently that he’s afraid if he makes any sudden moves you might break you. the thought often scares him. he can’t lose you.
- shoto ties your laces for you. he hates when you do it for yourself, and when you do he just looks you dead in the eye and doesn’t look away. so you end up having to untie them and ask him to tie them for you himself. he smiles at your gesture and kisses your forehead before kneeling down to assist you.
- if you call him while you’re lying down on his bed and he’s at his desk doing homework, he will drop everything to come over to you. and if you usher him into your arms to cuddle, his face will light up and he’ll crawl over to you, curling up and resting his head on your lap. play with his hair and he’ll literally sound like he’s purring.
- whenever you’re sitting down and you want a hug, he will get down on his knees and hug your mid section instead of getting you to stand up. he then proceeds to look up at you with the prettiest eyes. if you ever compliment his eyes he’ll just pout at you and cover his face with the hem of his shirt so you can’t see his blush.
- shoto has really soft lips, so whenever he’s putting vaseline on himself he instinctively puts some on you too. gently using his thumb to rub the gel onto your bottom lip with care. then right after he gives your a kiss, his vaseline combining with yours. he always caresses your cheek with his knuckles afterwards.
———————————————————————————
#mha headcanons#my hero academia headcanons#mha hcs#mha x reader#shoto x you#shoto torodoki#mha shoto#shoto x y/n#shoto x reader#shoto headcanons#shoto hcs#shoto fluff#mha todoroki#todoroki x reader#todoroki fluff#todoroki shoto x reader#bnha todoroki#bnha x reader
3K notes
·
View notes
Note
heyy girlypop 😘
can i request a skz and how/what partner privilege they give you?? 😍
partner privilege ♡
a/n. girlypop😭😭😭😭😭 will do 🤞 sorry for such a long wait bestie 🤧
i wrote something similar with svt if anyone is interested ^_^
┆彡 CHAN [ 찬 ]
everyone, including you, thought that whenever chan has a song idea or has written lyrics he shows it to the boys first. whether 3racha or felix or the others if they’re nearby. only then the producers and then you. but one day, after chan gave you a new song to listen, you were sitting in the kitchen and reading a book. han and changbin walked in, chatting about something. subconsciously you listened to the convo, which happened to be about the song. “yeah, i wonder what it’s like. or if he used the thing i told him about” han nodded and you rose your head. “oh the adlibs? the song is a banger, i’m sure stays will love it” you hummed and sent them a smile. “how do you know how it sounds?” changbin asked. “chan let me listen to it… am i the first one? i thought you were–“ you halted. “and we thought we were first–“ han mumbled, dialling chan’s number. blush crept at your cheeks, a sudden feeling of butterflies in your stomach. were you always the first listener…?
┆彡 MINHO [ 민호 ]
“hey, we’re back–!” felix hummed and was met with your quiet shh! looking at chan in surprise, they walked closer and noticed minho napping on your lap, quiet snores leaving his mouth. you were caressing his hair gently, giving them a silent warning to be quiet. “oh wow. first time in years i see this man asleep on someone else” chan grunted and they went to unpack the groceries. you continued running your fingers through his hair, warmth spreading across your heart. minho is truly like a cat; only falling asleep on a person he fully trusts and loves wholeheartedly.
┆彡 CHANGBIN [ 창빈 ]
you pop into the room, peaking your head and seeing your boyfriend engrossed in a lively discussion. “hey, binnie, ready to go?” you ask, drawing attention. he smiled wildly and proudly, standing up with a ‘sure, let’s go’. that causes hyunjin to gasp dramatically and jeongin side eye seungmin. “you literally told us your car just broke” seungmin murmurs and you frown. “well, whatever y/n wants, she gets. which includes rides” he chirps happily and drags you out before they start shouting. “you told them your car broke?” you laugh as he opens the door for you. changbin just winks and points at the aux. “shhh. you can play some music” he grins and hopes they don’t see it from the dorm window. because they’re absolutely not allowed to touch anything in the car.
┆彡 HYUNJIN [ 현진 ]
hyunjin stops in his tracks once you kneel down and start tying your shoelaces. “oh, you don’t have to” you mumbled, looking up and smiling at him. your boyfriend shakes his head and mirrors your smile, kneeling down too. “how could i not?” he hums and waits for you to finish. changbin turns around once he realises he didn’t hear hyunjin’s laughter in a while and gasps. noticing you two are far behind, he grunts: “he never waits for me when i tie my shoes”. once you’re done, he stands up with you and grabs your hand, swinging it back and forth dramatically. jeongin suddenly kneels and ties his shoe… only for hyunjin to pass him by, chuckling. changbin sighs as if to say “see, this is what i meant”.
┆彡 JISUNG [ 지성 ]
“no, go away!” you’re met with jisung’s growl when you enter the room. lino pouts and leans away, rolling his eyes. they greet you, han’s mouth stuffed with food. you smile and sit next to them. after he’s chewed, he pokes your cheeks. “hi baby, how was your day?” han asks and slaps lino’s hand that made its way to his bento box. “it’s was decent. i missed you” you hum and peek at his lunchbox. it looks delicious, with the fried rice and chicken and– “you want some?”. you nod shyly and in no time han gives you it, along with a pair of chopsticks. minho gasps, punching jisung’s arm. “i’ve been begging you for a bite for half an hour and you–! hmpf” minho grunts and waddles away, offended. “ignore him. if you want, you can finish it. it’s delicious, isn’t it?” your boyfriend asks and laughs when you nod energetically. eyes staring at you lovingly when you take another bite, han smiles.
┆彡 FELIX [ 필릭스 ]
han walked into the room, letting out the loudest gasp ever. you turned around slowly, still busy with chewing the apple. both of you frowning, shock on your faces. “what?” you ask and han rushes to you, trying to push you off the chair. “are you crazy?! felix doesn’t allow anyone to touch his gaming set! get off or he’ll kill you like he tried to choke me when i touched his computer for a split second–“ jisung panics and you just shove the apple slice into his mouth to silence him. “he allows me to play on his set, though? look, here’s a house i built in the sims!” you chirp and show them the building, leaving han speechless and with flashbacks of the pure purge once felix found out one of them even tried thinking about logging into his account…
┆彡 SEUNGMIN [ 승민 ]
chan sighs heavily and passes you in the hallway. you give minho a questioning look but he just shrugs, returning to his phone. you plop down on the couch, next to your boyfriend when a sudden gasp rips from your lips. “dang, i forgot to take my phone” you grunt and are about to stand up when seungmin places a hand on your thigh, standing up himself. “i’ll get it for you, i was on my way to kitchen either way. do you want something cold to drink too?” he asks softly and you send him a wild grin, nodding. seungmin startes at you lovingly and off he goes. chan comes back and sits at his place, mumbling something underneath his breath… “of course he’ll get y/n’s phone but when i ask him, suddenly he’s asleep”. a blush creeps on your face, minho giggling at chan’s misfortune.
┆彡 JEONGIN [ 정인 ]
“–and then he proceeded to slap my arm because i just borrowed his hoodie!” chan whined, crossing his arms. you laugh softly, patting his arm. “no, don’t worry. it’s nothing personal” you hum and see a text notification from your boyfriend announcing that he’ll be there in a second. chan looks at you, almost hugging a thanks when his eyes widen. “isn’t that his hoodie though? and his… shoes? and the cap too?!” he gasps. “yeah! he allows me to wear his clothes…? i didn’t want to say anything because you’d feel bad but…” you stopped once i.n entered the room. before chan starts to argue, jeongin simply reasons: because they look better on you than on chan.
[ masterlist <3 ]
taglist. @geniejunn ,, @luvhyun3 ,, @starlostseungmin ,, @elviransworld ,, @jnks6r ,, @sieunsgf ,, @ethereallino ,, @laylasbunbunny ,, @duolingofanaccount ,, @slytherinshua ,, @stxrseungs ,, @ka-ni-ma ,, @iliveforlixie ,, @ameliesaysshoo ,, @dazzlingligth ,, @mark-geolli ,, @l3visbby ,, @w3bqrl ,, @ddeonudepressions ,, @yourfavoritefreakyhan ,, @mirxzii ,, @kazmura ,, @primoppang,, @nfrgirl
#blue jisungs's requests#skz fluff#stray kids#skz#stray kids fluff#stray kids imagines#skz reactions#skz hyunjin#jisung skz#skz jeongin#skz lee know#skz bang chan#skz changbin#skz seungmin#skz felix#skz x reader#skz x you#skz x y/n#skz requests#skz imagines#skz scenarios#skz soft hours#skz boyfriend
3K notes
·
View notes
Text
déjà vu (beyoncé’s version) – ln4
masterlist
Summary: The one where a bad prank leads to you and Lando exploring an option you thought was not an option.
Pairing: lando norris x bestfriend!reader (nicknamed Tink)
Word Count: 5.2k
Warnings: smut elements but no actual smut, cursing, pining and of course fluff!
Request: “Haiiii. I love your style of writing Lando and feel like you would 100% do a request justice to scratch the itch in my brain Reader and him have been childhood friends, mutual pining with some sexual tension but never crossed lines other than a new years kiss with friends etc. So reader ends up training and qualifying as a physio/masseuse and travelling with Lando bc fun besties on tour together yay! Thinking she ends up getting to know his body really well from that and has to massage some intimate area- tension builds blah. They have a cosy night in together after front row quali to prep for the race, face masks cuddles bc really physically comfortable together and then some confessions happen. After this going out to celebrate home race (not jinxing tomorrow!!) and reader ends up dancing with another driver, Lando gets jealous fully opens up and they go home together (as much detail on that as you feel comfortable with) No probs if it’s something you don’t feel inspired to write! Pls continue writing whatever you love because I love to read your stuff!!”
Author’s Note: hi, hey, hello!! am i back after a literal month of no fics?? i hope so!! thank you so much for being patient with me you guysi i appreciate it, and i just want to say that this was the first time i wrote for lando (and you can definitely thank @userlando and her lando brainrot posts for that) and i’m kind of obsessed!! so as always, thank you to the anon for the request, and i hope you guys enjoy! good morning, noon or night wherever you are, xoxobee
Please also note that all of my works are protected under copyright, and not available for reposting on other platforms.
Being friends with Lando has resulted in both of you getting in trouble way too many times, you realise. The most recent case? The both of you ended up in a supply closet nearby the Aston Martin hospitality, hiding from a very, very, angry Spaniard. The close proximity and the limited space wouldn’t have been a big issue, for if Lando wasn’t looking at you with that look in his eyes. Under normal other circumstances, your reaction would’ve been much more different to the one you give him now – which is a glare that shows him you are not happy with the situation the both of you are in.
You’re about to scold him, but the words on your tongue quickly die as he presses his index finger to your lips. “I know you’re about to yell at me,” he whispers as he tries to keep his voice as low as possible, “but I really don’t want to be found right now.”
“Then maybe you should’ve thought about that before, you bloody idiot.” You hiss while slapping his hand away, which wins you a mock pout in return. “Why would you play that song every time he walked into a room?”
“It’s his name,” Lando tries to reason, “I thought he’d be used to it by now!”
Here’s the sitch. Lando, being the absolute prankster he is, decided to play ‘Fernando’ every time his former teammate entered into a room that morning – which resulted in the Spaniard becoming more and more annoyed with him until he snapped and Lando had to find himself a hiding place. How did you get roped into this, you may ask? You have absolutely no idea, other than your best friend dragging you into a nearby storage closet as you were walking back to the McLaren hospitality after meeting up with some of your friends for a cup of coffee. And now? The two of you are stuck inside a closet which is obviously too small for you both, and Lando has to bend his neck in an uncomfortable position.
“Lando,” you whisper in an attempt to keep your voice down, “don’t bend your head like that, you’ll strain something.”
“Well it’s not exactly comfortable, Tink.” He grimaces as one of the shelves hit his neck, which causes him to let out a low groan.
Ignoring the nickname he’s used for years, you motion him to move lower. “Just– let me see, okay?”
He begrudgingly nods as he bends his body towards you to accommodate you. You let your fingers run across his skin to find any knots along his shoulders. He lets out another low groan, but this one is more appreciative as you work some of the knots your fingers end up finding.
You watch as Lando’s expression changes from painful discomfort to relief as your fingers work their magic on his tense muscles. For a brief moment, it's just the two of you in the confined space, and you almost get lost in the comfortable silence. “Feels good,” Lando murmurs, his voice barely above a whisper, “I swear you have magic hands or something.”
You let out a breathy chuckle, “I just know your body, Lando.” After realising the words that come out of your mouth, your face flushes with embarrassment at the unintended implication of your words and you scramble to add, “Not like that, I didn’t mean–”
He smirks playfully, his eyes sparkling mischievously. “Oh, really? My body, huh? You think about my body often?” he teases, his hands squeezing your waist – and being lost in the moment, you don’t even know how they ended up there.
Your cheeks grow even hotter, and you feel your heart rate quicken. “No, that's not what I meant,” you stammer, trying to regain your composure, “and you know it’s basically my job to think about, you know?”
The mischievous glint in his eyes shine brightly as he decides to play dumb, “To think about what, baby?”
Your heart skips a beat at his teasing, and you can't help but let out a small laugh, trying to hide your embarrassment. “Don't be ridiculous, Lando,” you retort, trying to act cool despite the butterflies in your stomach. “I meant knowing your body like an expert, considering the fact that you pull a muscle every time you decide to do a physical activity.”
He chuckles, and his hands, still resting on your waist, give you a playful squeeze. "Sure, sure, Tink," he replies, a hint of playfulness in his voice. "But let's be honest, it's not just my body you know well. You practically read my mind too."
You roll your eyes, trying to playfully push him away. "Oh, please. You're not that hard to figure out."
Lando leans in a little closer, his grin still evident. "Is that so? Then tell me, oh expert of Lando Norris, what am I thinking right now?"
You raise an eyebrow, not falling for his trick. "You're probably thinking that you got away with the Fernando prank and now you owe me big time, your brain is empty most of the time."
He smirks, impressed by your response. "You're good, Tink. But you're right, I do owe you one. What can I do to make it up to you?"
You pause, the closeness between the two of you making it difficult to think clearly. "Well, for starters, maybe you can stop dragging me into your pranks and getting us into trouble," you suggest with a hint of a smile. “And I don’t know, maybe take pole for me, you know?”
As the playful banter continues, you both seem to forget about the predicament you're in. The confined space of the closet no longer feels suffocating; instead, it becomes a haven for shared laughter and camaraderie.
Just as the two of you are lost in the moment, the closet door suddenly opens, and you both freeze. The angry Spaniard stands before you once again, but this time, his expression has softened, seeing you and Lando in a surprisingly intimate moment.
"Am I interrupting something?" Fernando asks, his tone amused.
Your face turns beet red, and Lando lets out a nervous chuckle. "Oh, hey there. Just having a chat, you know."
But Fernando raises an eyebrow, still looking amused. "In a supply closet?"
You and Lando exchange a sheepish glance, realizing how the situation must appear to Fernando. "Well, we kind of got caught up in the moment," you admit, hoping he doesn't read too much into it.
Fernando chuckles, and there's a warm glint in his eyes. "I see. Well, it's none of my business, but you might want to find a less cramped place to chat next time."
You nod in agreement, grateful that Fernando seems to be taking the situation lightly. "You're right. We'll keep that in mind," you say, trying to sound casual.
Lando adds with a grin, "Yeah, and we promise not to play 'Fernando' every time you enter a room from now on." But he’s quick to correct himself when you give him a glare, “I promise not to play 'Fernando' every time you enter a room from now on."
Fernando chuckles again, seemingly amused by the whole ordeal. "I'd appreciate that. Anyway, carry on. I won't keep you two any longer."
As he walks away, you let out a sigh of relief. "That could have been a lot worse," you say, feeling a mix of embarrassment and amusement.
"Yeah, we got lucky," Lando agrees, giving you a playful nudge. "But you know what they say, Tink, nothing like a bit of closet bonding to strengthen a friendship."
You roll your eyes at his playful banter, but there's a fondness in your heart as you look at him. "You're incorrigible, Lando Norris."
He grins, "You love it, though."
You can't help but smile, knowing he's right. “Come on,” you say, “you have a quali to attend.”
The tension from the qualifying session had left you on edge, your heart pounding with every lap, and your nerves had gotten the better of you, leading to some slightly bloody nails from biting them in anticipation. But all that anxiety melts away when you see Lando step out of the car, grinning ear to ear. As soon as he catches sight of you, he opens his arms, and you don't hesitate for a moment. You rush into his embrace, holding him tightly, relieved that he's safe and thrilled that he performed so well.
"You were amazing out there!" you exclaim, unable to hide the pride in your voice. "P2, front row! That's incredible!"
Lando chuckles, his arms still wrapped around you. "I don’t know how we did it!"
You pull back slightly to look into his eyes, your heart swelling with admiration for your best friend. "I never doubted you for a second," you say earnestly.
His grin widens, and he playfully ruffles your hair. "I know you didn't. Seems like you’re my lucky charm, hm?"
“You know what that means?” You ask him return, a playful smirk on your lips.
His answer comes quickly, and his look seems to reflect your own, “Pizza and a movie?”
Your reply is just as enthusiastic as you throw your arms around him and give him a big smile, “Pizza and a movie, baby!”
Eventually, you manage to escape the whole hustle and bustle of the circuit, and you and Lando find yourselves back at the hotel, with you on the couch trying to find something to watch and him deciding to take a quick shower after the stressful day of qualifying. After a few minutes, you hear the sound of the shower running in the bathroom. You smile to yourself, glad that Lando is taking some time to relax after such a demanding day. As you wait for him to finish, you finally settle on a movie to watch with a small grin on your face, clearly pleased with your choice. Just as you're about to start the movie, you hear the bathroom door open, and Lando emerges, looking refreshed and relaxed.
After he gets the pizza box out of the oven, he walks over to the couch, wearing sweatpants instead of his jeans, and flops down next to you. "That shower was exactly what I needed," he says with a contented sigh.
You chuckle, glancing at him, while also trying to actively ignore the fact that he’s wearing grey sweatpants. "Feeling better now?"
"Definitely," he replies, flashing you a grin. "So, what are we watching?"
“Mamma Mia,” you scoff, “of course.”
“A classic, nice.” He nods in understanding, extending the pizza box to you for you to take a slice. “It’s still warm.”
You wordlessly grab a slice and pass the box back to Lando as you settle in your seat, ready to focus on your choice of movie. The comfortable silence between you feels familiar, like the unspoken language of best friends who have shared countless memories and moments together. Throughout the movie, you can't help but notice Lando's occasional stolen glances at you, and you find yourself stealing glances right back. He even winks at you with that boyish grin every time he catches you staring at him, making you giggle as you quickly turn your attention back onto the screen. You somehow find yourself sprawled out on the couch once the pizza box is emptied and discarded, and it’s harder for you to keep your eyes open. With your head on Lando’s lap, he plays with the ends of your hair as the two of you try to keep your attention on the screen.
‘Try,’ being the operative word here, since Lando realises that you end up falling asleep in the middle of the movie where Sophie realises all of the men she invited to the wedding thinks they are her father, and though he finds some kind of comfort in the chaos knowing that it will get resolved eventually, he can’t help but take his role as a makeshift human pillow very seriously. As the movie continues playing, Lando tries his best not to disturb your peaceful slumber. He leans back against the couch, adjusting his position so you can rest more comfortably on his lap while also trying so hard to not wake you up. He can't help but smile to himself as he plays with your hair, finding himself mesmerized by the gentle rise and fall of your chest as you breathe.
With a sudden realisation that maybe it is not the best thing to stare at you while you sleep, he tries to occupy himself with something on his phone while also trying to keep still so that you don’t wake up. However, the text thread between him and Max quickly makes him realise that the thoughts that he tries so hard to keep away. He never gave himself the opportunity to think about the two of you that way, he supposes. Not that it would be weird or anything, but in his mind, he’d seen, and been in, far too many relationships form and de-form to know that not all is permanent when it comes to relationships and it’s also not something he’d want to risk when it comes to you. Although the unwarranted thoughts of the two of you together, as a couple, have been haunting him for the past couple of months, he did a great job of sending them away and finding something else to focus on – up until now, that is. And now that he’s pictured the two of you together, holding hands in the streets of Monaco, going on dates, doing more than what ‘best friends’ are meant to do, it doesn’t seem that daunting to give it a try.
He carefully shifts you onto his lap with gentle movements, surprised that you don’t wake up and also trying to figure out the best way to wake you up without startling you. As he gently brushes your cheek, your eyes flutter open, and you look up at him with a sleepy smile. "Did I miss the end of the movie?" you ask, your voice still heavy with sleep.
Lando chuckles, shaking his head, but not stilling the movement of his hand. “No, we just finished. You fell asleep somewhere in the middle.”
You sit up slightly, rubbing your eyes with a small yawn. “I'm sorry,” you say, sounding apologetic.
“No need to apologise,” he assures you, his thumb caressing your cheek. “You looked adorable sleeping, Tink.”
Your cheeks flush slightly, and you give him a playful nudge. “Stop teasing me.”
Lando grins, but there's a tenderness in his eyes as he looks at you. “I'm not teasing, Tink. I mean it. You always look adorable, no matter what you're doing.”
You feel your heart skip a beat at his sincere compliment, and you can't help but smile back. “Thank you,” you say softly, feeling a warmth spreading through you, “I, uh, I should probably go to my room and let you sleep.”
“What? No, you don’t have to go.” Lando’s eyebrows furrow on their own, “I mean, you could stay over, it’s not like we haven’t done it before.”
You give him an unsure look, “I don’t know, Lando, you have a race tomorrow.”
“And we’ll sleep,” he shrugs, “the name ‘sleepover’ implies that, baby.”
You end up giving in and nodding, albeit a little hesitant. "Alright, I'll stay over."
Lando's face lights up with a bright smile, clearly pleased with your decision. "Great! It'll be fun, just like old times."
You chuckle softly. "Yeah, just like old times."
And you’d expect it to feel like the old times, because the two of you said it would be like the old times – the times where you’d spend the night over at his house because his mother picked you up and you didn’t want the playtime to be over. But instead of the excitement of a prolonged play date with your best friend, you find yourself anxious in the hotel bathroom over the fact that it’s him out there, and there is no way that he is not aware of the way you feel about him. You take a moment to compose yourself, splashing some cold water on your face to calm your nerves. This situation is new territory for both of you, and you don't want anything to ruin the friendship the two of you have. When you eventually make your way out of the bathroom, you desperately want to go back in, feeling undoubtedly exposed under Lando’s burning gaze.
“What?” You ask, your voice coming off weaker than you hoped, “Why are you looking at me like that?”
It takes a minute for him to answer you, mainly because of the fact that poor Lando is having a brain malfunction at the sight of you in his shirt – which he gave it to you because it was the only logical option for sleepwear, you know? Suddenly regretting his possessive streak, he attempts to clear his throat, “Nothing, you look good in my clothes.”
Your eyebrows shoot up, and you try not to let yourself become reduced to a blubbering mess, “Oh, well thank you. It’s yours,” after a brief moment of realisation you quickly add, “but you already knew that.”
“Tink,” he calls out, snapping you out of whatever embarrassed state you’re in, and your eyes quickly snap to his. “Come here,” he pleads as he extends one of his towards you, he’s quick to draw you into his arms – and just like that, you find yourself straddling your best friend.
“This is crazy,” you whisper as Lando grabs you by the waist to still your movements as you try to find a comfortable position while not realising just how uncomfortable it becomes for him.
“It doesn’t have to be,” his whisper is just as soft as yours as he looks up to you, “we don’t have to make it weird.”
A compromise, you’ll take it. “Are you going to kiss me?”
“Do you want me to kiss you?” As much as you hate it when he replies to your questions with his own, you nod your head with a sheepish look on your face, though it doesn’t satisfy Lando as a valid answer. “I need you to say it, baby.”
You answer comes of in an instant. “I do, please.”
“Such good manners,” he mumbles while giving you that boyish grin you love oh so much. When he catches biting the corner of your lip, you’re broken out of your daydream by his thumb pulling your lip free. “Don’t do that, you’ll hurt yourself,” his thumb caresses the side of your lip, “that’s my job, anyway.”
Your cheeks flush at his playful comment, and you can't help but smile at his words. "Your job, huh?" you tease, feeling the tension in the air starting to dissipate.
Lando chuckles, his fingers gently tracing patterns on your waist. "Among other things," he replies with a mischievous glint in his eyes.
Before you give yourself the opportunity to overthink, you lean in and press a soft kiss to Lando’s lips – it’s only a peck, a hesitant one at that, but not completely uncharted territory when you think about it. The two of you have shared kisses before, at Christmas or New Year’s at midnight, but somehow this simple peck feels different than any of those other occasions. Lando doesn’t rush you. He’s a patient man after all, and he knows that the feelings he has for you are reciprocated by the feelings you have for him. So when you look him with widened eyes, he gives you a soft smile and it does wonders to calm your nerves. It doesn’t take you long to press your lips against his once again, but this time the kiss is deeper, more passionate, and filled with the unspoken words that have lingered between you for too long.
It starts off with another peck, but this time you take the initiative to deepen the kiss, and the appreciative groan that leaves Lando’s lips makes you feel butterflies in your stomach. His hands move from your waist to the small of your back, pulling you closer to him, while yours tangle in his hair, revelling in the softness of his curls – and the fact that all of this feels almost familiar in some kind of a way. He’s not shy as he lets his tongue explore your mouth, in fact, he encourages you to do the same. It’s a messy kiss filled with colliding tongues and mixed breaths, and the hands that were on your waist one moment are now on your hips, encouraging their slow movement against his groin. It’s not a subtle build-up for any of you, either. It a matter of seconds, you find yourself dry-humping your childhood best friend in his hotel room, and in a couple more, both of you are whimpering into the kiss.
You’re both out of breath and breathing deeply as you rest your forehead against Lando’s. Thankfully, his hands continue to guide your hips as their movement get more and more erratic, and you him groan out, “Slow down, baby.”
You let out an objective whimper in return, whispering out a weak, “No.”
“No?” Lando repeats, his breath hitting your exposed neck in a light chuckle, “Do you want to come?”
“Uh-huh,” you mumble, letting your hands grab handfuls of his hair, “but you can’t fuck me.”
The whine that comes from your lips can only be described as bratty when Lando forces your hips to cease their movements, raising an eyebrow at you as he grumbles, “Excuse me?”
“You can’t fuck me, Lando.” You mumble, trying to move your hips again, but his hold is too powerful against your attempts. “At least not tonight.”
“And why is that, Tink?” He takes in your wide eyes and shuddering breath in, thinking he’d done something wrong, something you didn’t like. “You want to come, no?” He thinks at that moment, as you give him a nod with that dreamy and almost innocent look on your face, he could die and he’d be happy with where his life has led him, but he gives you a confused look, “Then what is the problem?”
“Um, you have a race tomorrow,” you explain as your fingers gently slide down to meet at the nape of his neck, “I don’t want to jinx anything.”
As a respond to your words, Lando gives you a look of disbelief, “You don’t want to jinx me having a good race,” he mumbles.
You give him another nod, “Are you mad at me?”
“Am I mad at you?” Lando repeats the question, and he flips the two of you over in a smooth motion so that you're lying on the bed with him hovering above you, his eyes locked onto yours. “Answer the question for me, will you?”
You take a moment to catch your breath, your heart racing as you meet his intense gaze. “No,” you reply softly, your fingers tracing the outline of his jaw. “Why would you be mad at me?”
Lando's lips curve into a playful smile as he leans in, his breath warm against your skin. “See?” he murmurs, his lips brushing against yours, “Good girl.” As he moves down your body, you let out a protesting sound, but he quickly shushes you as he positions himself between your legs. “I’m going to make you come, and you’re not talking to Micheal Italiano ever again.” He taps the side of your hips to signal you to raise them up as he carefully takes off your underwear and then murmurs to himself, “Pretty girl, too.”
With a blush which is quickly spreading onto your cheeks and neck, you raise yourself onto your elbows as you watch him give you the do-over. “Lando,” you plead.
“Oh baby, you're wet,” he teases, “don’t worry, though, I’ll help you with that.” He also gives you a look while grabbing both of your thighs, “And the shirt fucking stays on.”
After the events of the previous night with Lando working wonders between your legs for the remainder of the night, he honestly didn’t expect to start the morning with you returning the favour. Alas there you were, between his legs, with sleepy eyes and an innocent smile as if you hadn’t just given him the best blowjob of his life. And as the two of you make your way along the paddock, he wishes he was back in his hotel room with you in his arms. You try your best to distract him from overthinking everything and costing himself the race, and Lando is aware of what you’re trying to do – though that doesn’t mean you succeed completely.
You can tell by the small frown of eyebrows that he is lost inside his head, probably double guessing every aspect of the strategy his team debriefed him about this morning. With a deep inhale, you give his hand a small squeeze, halting your movements to stop him alongside you. “Hey,” you call out gently, “you’re going to be amazing out there, okay? You have nothing to worry about.”
“I know, it’s just the pressure is getting to me.” You watch him sigh, closing his eyes for a moment to regroup his thoughts, “I’ll be fine before I go in the car, I promise.”
You nod, giving him an encouraging smile, “I know you will. After all, you feel the–”
“Need for speed.” He completes the sentence without thinking, which makes the two of share a short laughter. “Thanks, Tink.”
“You’re welcome,” lifting yourself up on your tiptoes, you give him a soft peck on his lips, “I’ll watch the race with your dad, okay?” You chuckle at his reaction when he lets out a prolonged groan, “What?”
“He’s going to make fun of us, big time.” He says, rolling his eyes.
“Go,” you say in between laughter, “don’t be late and for the love of God, be careful!”
Lando chuckles at your playful warning, giving you a mock salute. “Yes, ma'am!”
It doesn’t take long for you to find Adam, who gives you a knowing look, in the sea of spectators in the McLaren garage. And as the race begins, you and Adam stand side by side, your eyes fixed on the track where the race is unfolding. The first four laps as the Lando leads the race makes your heart beat so hard, you can practically feel the excitement coursing through your veins. Each turn and straightaway that Lando navigates flawlessly adds to the anticipation building in the air. Even when he returns to his original position, you’re on the edge, praying to whatever deity up there for him to finish this race without and incident. You’ve told him million times before that you don’t get F1 at all, you’ve always thought the adrenaline linked with the sport to be a negative feeling – too heavy, too much and definitely not something you want to feel every weekend. But in the moment that Lando passes the finishing line P2, you realise why people are so obsessed with this sport. Because when Lando crosses the finish line, you find yourself cheering as loudly as anyone else. The rush of emotions, once alien to you, now feels like a shared celebration of human achievement and dedication.
Lando is all smiles when he finally finds his way back to you, and he’s giving you a kiss the moment he has you back in his arms; celebrating with the team in the paddock was a whirlwind of emotions. As he wraps his arms around you and pulls you close, his big smile is infectious.
So you’re honestly confused when he starts dragging you through the hallways of the club you went to for his celebrations with the rest of the team. The beat of the music playing back in the dancefloor echoes in the hallway as he leads you down the hall. The lights, the laughter, and the energy of the celebrations in the main area of the club are still audible, but you can only hear the muffled sounds of the celebration being held for him. “Lando,” in hopes of finally getting some answers, you say his name for the umpteenth time, but he just looks at you with furrowed eyebrows, “what’s wrong?”
He's silent as he wraps his arms around your waist and before you can repeat your question he buries his head in the crook of your neck. While you’re thinking about what could’ve caused his sudden need to be alone with you, he’s very glad that you’ve opted to wear sneakers tonight instead of heels.
“Baby,” you murmur, your fingers running through his curls in an attempt to bribe him, “tell me what’s wrong.”
“Nothing is wrong.” His voice is muffled by your skin and you can feel the breath he exhales on your shoulder.
You purse your lips and give him a few moments for him to break on his own, but when he doesn’t, you sigh softly. “Something is wrong.”
He raises his head momentarily to give you an unamused look, then bury his head back into your neck, “I saw you and Oscar.”
“Yeah, we were talking about the race.” Your confirmation leaves you confused as he lets out a scoff, and you find yourself warily asking, “Is there something wrong with that?”
You hear him scoff again and then, “Well I didn’t particularly like it.”
You gently push him off of you as you try to look past his confused expression and pouted lips, “You didn’t like me talking to your teammate… about your race.”
“Well when you put it like that–”
“Lando he is two years younger than us, and he has a girlfriend you do realise that, don’t you?” Your hands rest on either side of your body on your hips as you give him a small grin, “You were jealous, weren’t you?”
His eyes widen as he nods, “Well yeah, Tink, I think that one was very much obvious when I dragged you here.”
“I mean,” you drawl, “it was kind of cute, you know?”
As his eyes narrow, Lando walks you backwards until you’re pressed up against the wall. “Well I am a cute person.”
“Oh yeah,” you let out a giggle, “the cutest.” Your fingers toy with the buttons of his shirt while you look up at him to meet his eyes, “Are you thinking what I’m thinking?”
“That we should probably get back to the party?” He mumbles, his eyes drifting as he looks around the hall.
You fist the collar of his shirt as you raise yourself up on your tiptoes, your voice lowering down for only him to hear even if it’s a deserted hallway, “You don’t have a race tomorrow.”
His eyes come back down to meet yours, “Well yes, it’s Mond– oh,” it takes a moment for him to realise what you’ve meant, and you’re thrown over his shoulder in an instant.
“Wha– Lando put me down!” You shriek, “What are you doing?”
His voice is playful as he starts walking towards the back door of the club, “We are not leaving that hotel room for a few days.”
It doesn’t take long for you to start laughing, “You’re an idiot.”
“Maybe,” he shrugs the opposite shoulder, “but I’m your idiot.”
The sincerity in his words catches you off guard, but you can’t help the small smile forming on your lips as you murmur, “Yeah, yeah you are.”
#monzabee#requests open#f1 fic#f1 fanfic#f1 smut#formula 1#fanfic#f1 x reader#f1 x you#f1 x y/n#lando norris#lando norris x reader#lando norris imagine#imagine#fluff#angst#smut#lando norris smut#lando norris fluff
1K notes
·
View notes
Text
THE MOST ATTRACTIVE PERSON IN THE ROOM
timeskip iwaizumi x gn!reader ft. msby + osamu, akaashi | 1.5k words, swearing, implied alcohol, suggestive?
“okay, iwaizumi, i dare you to…” hinata drawls, tapping the wooden floor beneath him—the beat of the song that he’s gotten stuck in everyone’s heads today, you note.
“hmmm….”
“this is why we can’t play truth or dare with you, shoyo.” atsumu groans, though there’s a lopsided smile that accompanies it, before taking a sip of his drink. condensation drips down the side and he wipes it with the sleeve of his jacket.
“as if you didn’t steal my dare idea last turn!”
“can’t steal somethin’ that was never yours in the first place.”
“huh? i literally said it out loud.”
“i thought it before y’said it.”
“what?!”
“holy shit, get back to the dare.” osamu snorts and throws a pillow at their heads. “’m gonna have to retire by the time hinata comes up with 3 syllables.”
you laugh softly from your spot on the couch above. hajime snickers next to you, his arm hanging loosely above you.
not around you, of course. just above, on the couch, close enough to brush your head every time you lean a little too far back—which is why you’ve curled further into the edge instead, feet tucked under the throw blanket you had gifted hinata a few months earlier.
emboldened by the conversation as distraction, you let your eyes shift to loom at him. his cheeks are flushed, and eyes crinkled as he watches his team in amusement. there’s an almost empty drink in his left hand, more clinking ice than beverage. but he brings it to his lips to take another sip, and you watch, and you wish you could stop watching, but your eyes seem fixated on his lips as they meet the edge of his glass, and the way his adam’s apple bobs as he swallows.
the sound of bickering is muffled, and you should look away, really, it’d be embarrassing if he caught you, but he’s scratching the side of his neck, and he looks really good, and—
“okay, fine, iwaizumi.” hinata brings your focus back to the room and stares with sudden determination. “i dare you to kiss the most attractive person in the room.”
the two stare at each other. no immediate snarky remark or laughter follows.
you blink.
you think everyone blinks, actually.
your eyes flicker to hajime again, and you watch his mouth again, though this time it opens and closes twice, three times, as if words would appear if it silently lured them. “...i—what?”
“pfft—”
“don’t feel like getting kissed tonight, sorry, bro. alright, bo, you’re up next, right?”
“oh! yeah, wait, we’re skipping iwa?”
“oh, shut up, ’tsumu, like yer dumbass is the most attractive person in here.”
“i am, actually. objectively, even.”
“you have a twin, atsumu.”
“not seein’ your point here ’kaashi?”
“y’callin’ me ugly?”
“technically jus’ less attractive, but yeah, yer ugly.”
“guys,” you warn. you think bokuto’s still confused on who’s turn it is, while osamu’s put his drink down and sitting up straighter. “drop it. and hajime, you don’t have to if you don’t want to.”
“yeah, but you’ll have to take a shot,” atsumu interjects.
“thought you as the self-proclaimed ‘most attractive person’ were gonna stop him anyway. was he supposed t’drink a shot if he picked ya?”
“no, we would’ve both taken shots.”
hajime raises a brow. “what? as the guy who’s supposed to have the dare—what the hell kind of logic is that? you know what—”
he lets out an exasperated sigh and moves his arm from behind you to rest on his thigh. and it’s not like it was touching you in the first place, but the vacancy makes the back of your neck feel a little colder. “fuck it, i’m tipsy enough.”
“fine, y’can kiss my cheek—”
“i’m not kissing you, atsumu,” hajime just less than growls.
atsumu puts his hands up in surrender while hinata snickers, and you think osamu’s building up to an “i told you so,” but you’re too busy watching the man next to you to really know.
there’s tension in his shoulders as he places his glass on his coaster—one of two that have actually been used, the other drinks leaving rings of water in their place. it’s a wonder that hinata has any in the first place.
your eyes move from his leg that’s started to bounce, to his hands that start to fiddle with the watch on his wrist, and then his mouth where he bites a lip.
and then they move up again, just a little higher, to his eyes—
which are already set on you.
neither of you say anything. but then his eyes flicker down to your lips, and a quick heat builds in your face, your ears, your neck. something in you thinks it must be a joke, but hajime’s already flushed face turns more red, and the (big) part of you that has a crush on him is just a little happy it seems to be because of you.
there’s no time to process that further though, his silence is enough to get the attention of the others anticipating his choice.
atsumu only looks between the both of you for a second before clapping his hands together. “ohh, ohoho—”
“ooh, iwa!”
“huh? ohh—”
“can you guys be normal for 2 minutes?” sakusa sighs and leans back into his chair, deciding to stare at the ceiling instead of his teammates if only for a moment. “and if you two are going to kiss, can you do it faster before my brain shuts down?”
“rude.”
hajime ignores them and clears his throat before facing you properly, shifting so one leg is propped on the couch underneath him. taking it as your cue, you sit up and collect your blanket to one side.
the room hasn’t been this quiet since you arrived first and offered to help set up. but it isn’t suffocating—the quiet is a buzz, and seems to sit in anticipation just as much as you.
“can i?” hajime asks softly.
you nod, your only hesitation is in wondering if he’s serious.
but even a little hesitation is enough. his lips purse, and a concerned crinkle appears between hajime’s brows that you almost want to reach to smooth out, its existence, you promise, unnecessary. he says your name. “seriously, we don’t have to if you don’t feel comfortable.”
you’re shaking your head before he’s done his sentence. “it’s okay, haji.”
“ooh, haji—”
“shuddup, ’tsumu.”
“is it weird i feel awkward watching this?”
“aw, c’mon, ’ji, they’re cute.”
the conversation is an odd comfort as it dulls the sharp attention on you, the tension your body seems to hold everywhere.
hajime moves closer, shrinking the gap between you until your legs touch and you can count the inches between you on two hands. his cologne is easy to notice, and you wish you could pinpoint the fragrant notes, maybe write them down in your head to look for later. (you wonder if that's a weird thing to do.)
the lips your eyes had lingered on maybe a dozen times just tonight are a lot easier to watch as his tongue pokes out to lick them. subconsciously, you do the same.
then a hand comes up, hesitates before finding place on your cheek, and you let yourself lean into its touch. it’s odd—how you wished the arm behind you on the couch would accidentally move a little closer just a few minutes ago, and now your face is being held instead. you wonder if you could ever get used to it.
for a split (embarrassing) second, you even let yourself wonder what it would be like to wake up to the same touch and owner in bed beside you.
hajime looks at you, and you smile when your eyes lock. and maybe it’s your own drink kicking in, but you reach for his free hand to lace your fingers in between his as you nod once more, look at his lips one more time.
his chest rises as he takes a deep breath.
“seriously, guys, if ya don’t kiss already ’samu’s gonna start going bald.”
“the fuck?”
you can’t help the laugh that escapes you or the warm breath that hits hajime’s skin, nor can you fully get rid of the smile on your face as hajime murmurs what sounds like a “for fuck’s sake,” beneath one of his own and leans in.
and then he kisses you.
and you think there’s cheering, clapping and something about losing a bet on who’d kiss who first.
but it doesn’t matter—not while you’re finally finding out how soft hajime’s lips are, while his grip on your hand tightens, while his thumb rubs your skin and fingers moves closer to the back of your neck to pull you closer, closer.
your free hand comes to wrap around his shoulder, and he lets go of the other to reach around your back. somewhere in the back of your head you wonder how long (how deep?) a kiss is acceptable in front of an audience, but you can hear, feel, hajime take a deep breath as he pulls you close enough that his chest is pressed against yours, and you think the others can look away themselves when it’s too much—there’s someone more important to you.
me after writing atsumu myself: wow he's so funny silly stupid 🫶 mann i don’t necessarily Want to know about perfumes and alcohol until i’m writing a fic and go ah. what the hell is a good scent. like girl what is Cedarwood ? not everyone can smell like..mint and vanilla. and how am i supposed to know what this guy would drink when all i’ve had is soju with raspberry gingerale / mango concentrate. which is rlly good btw. yummy...
🏷️| @devilgirlcrybabiey @lordbugs @smiithys @xfangirl-trashx @passionateuchiha @scaramouchesfootstool @fifteenshadesofpinkk @chloee0x0 @kenmaslov3r @bakugosgrenade @dai-tsukki-desu @Thathoneybee3 @momoewn @aintgeluh @dazaisfavgf @simpforerenn @crystal-lilac @vhenis @omiigad @kur0-kawa @semispilledcoffee @idontlikeyourjob @sparrowb3nscloset @awkwardaardvarkforever @rory-cakes @prblmtic @kuroaka @sunaslay @h0n3ysgh0st @lackey-laufeyson @bontensbabygirl @dira333 @spooky1magazine1bread @Kamukayakmonyet @danyisapingu @isentsworld @lilithlunas @anime-ships-gay @todorokiskitten @kellesvt @tooruchiiscribs @curiouslilbeast @fiona782 @cvhenia @mitskiologist @libbyistired @milkbreadforlife @itsukkie @sirimirihiro @mylahrins @aria-chikage @heyitstial @akari-fujikawa
#haikyuu x reader#iwaizumi x reader#iwaizumi fluff#haikyuu fluff#haikyuu x gn!reader#writing kisses is so. yknow ud think w the amnt of fluff i write id get it by now. i dont though unfortunately. its always a little awkward#ouaahhhh.....whatever... he kisses u soo good he goes smoochy kiss kiss mwah smooch mwah#bkak r together in this in my mind btw. my cutiepies...
1K notes
·
View notes
Text
Twice Shy
For the April @steddiemicrofic prompt 'fool'!
wc: 454 | rated: G | cw: none | tags: referenced recreational drug use, brief angst with a happy ending, Nancy really messed Steve up, chubby Steve Harrington if you squint
Steve’s been fooled by Eddie plenty of times. When they were in school together, the guy once sold him literal grass clippings as weed and was an off-putting ass at every opportunity. Some of that could be explained by shit Tommy or the other jocks pulled, but mostly it was part of the bit. If Eddie was going to be cast as a freak, he’d be The Freak and become untouchable.
Spring Break dropped Eddie straight into a bucket of trauma and rinsed that bravado away. And Steve had bought into the idea that only cowardice was left—not judging him for it, because Steve had almost run too, back in the very beginning.
Until the idiot shocked them all by standing his ground against the demobats, saving Dustin’s life.
Being shoved against a wall one day and called “big boy” another have weaseled their way into Steve’s head. So, once the doctors clear Eddie to go home, Steve offers his because… the guy no longer has one. Wayne moves in too, and for a while it feels like having family around. Less like family when Eddie kisses him on the couch one night during an impromptu Star Wars marathon, but, yeah. Eddie’s shit starts gradually migrating up into Steve’s room until, a month or two later, he’s basically moved in.
So it hurts when Steve, who just wanted to surprise Eddie at Corroded Coffin’s first show back at the Hideout, after they played the song Eddie wrote for him, watches his supposed boyfriend sidle up to some guy at the bar and lean in to say something with that smile. The one Steve thought was just for him.
Someone drops their drink, spattering Steve’s shoes with glass shards and beer. He doesn’t realize until Eddie looks up that it was him, and, well. Of all the times he’s been fooled into thinking Eddie’s something he’s not, this one is the worst. So Steve does what he did when Nancy called him bullshit; he turns and shoves his way out the door.
Only this time, he’s followed. Can’t help thinking I used to be faster than this when Eddie catches up.
“Steve—He asked about your song!”
Pride keeps Steve moving, but his thoughts hesitate. When they’re even with the van he lets Eddie pull him alongside it, less visible between cars, relatively safe.
“Baby,” Eddie says, eyes huge and close. He smells like sweat and smoke, but thankfully not booze. “I know how that must’ve looked, but I love you. You’re it for me.”
Steve has always been the first to say it… but not this time. Feeling like a fool for jumping to conclusions, he hugs Eddie close. “Shit, Eds, I love you too.”
Permanent tag list: @hotluncheddie
#steddiemicrofic#steddiemicroficapril#steddie#eddie munson#steve harrington#scoops words#there's something so special about eddie beating steve to saying i love you
381 notes
·
View notes
Text
stop looking at me like that - roy kent x reader
pairing: roy kent x reader
word count: 2.5k
warnings: a lot of language, of course, and some very slight allusions to smut
a/n: and we're right back with a roy version! i didn't intend to write both, but the lovely @ironmanmagnetfridge sent in an ask to try a roy version of 'saved you a seat' and i couldn't refuse. i loved writing this, so thank you endlessly for the request and my ask box is currently very open for more roy or jamie requests in particular! <3
---
“We saw a windmill!” Jamie announces loudly, to which the whole coach cheers, yourself included. It was nice to see him so happy as he bounded down the aisle high-fiving everyone in sight. Roy may have sounded as grumpy as ever when he’d boarded the coach moments beforehand, but when he sank into the seat next to you near the back, you could definitely see the hint of a smirk on his face that he’d never admit to.
“Good night?” you asked him teasingly, only to hear him growl as he turned to you.
“Thought I said not to fucking ask?”
“I’m not asking, I’m inferring,” you hummed, undeterred by the attitude you’d become so used to, “You don’t have to confirm or deny anything. I’m glad you had a good time.”
“You’re very fucking presumptuous, has anyone ever told you that?”
“You have. Many times,” you supply, grinning up at him and grateful for the fondness in the eye roll that you just managed to catch, “You like windmills?”
He doesn’t speak for a moment, and when he does, his voice is even lower, gruffer than before somehow.
“Fucking love ‘em.”
You nod, satisfied, and settle back into your seat to watch the boys fool about. They manage to get a song going, and you join in quietly albeit happily. When the same song dissolves into a chant that Dani seems to be leading in Spanish, you bow out and instead pull out your laptop to catch up on the vital emails you knew you’d missed during your time abroad.
“Do you ever stop fucking working?”
“Hey, you chose this seat,” you reminded him, still unsure why he’d chosen to sit next to you when there were a few empty seats he’d passed on the way. The thought made you a little too nervous to dwell on it though, “You should have known better than to sit next to the workaholic.”
“If I hadn’t sat here, I couldn’t do this,” he said simply, gently taking your laptop from your lap despite your protests and attempts to snatch it back. He held it over his head to the seat behind him and Rebecca caught on quick, taking it from him without a word. You pouted at him, then turned to glare at her through the gap between your seats.
“Rebecca! You know preventing the director of your charity foundation from working is probably a pretty shit idea?”
“I literally brought you with us for you to take a mandatory break,” she said firmly, “So fucking take it!”
She muttered something about you being a nuisance then went back into the dreamy trance she’d been in since she entered the coach, your laptop safely tucked away behind her. You sat back in your seat with an exaggerated huff.
“Being childish won’t help anything,” Roy reminded you, although he was definitely teasing you now if the light in his eyes was any indicator. You turned your glare on him, but soon relented, sinking back into your seat.
“You’re a bastard,” you say instead of replying.
“Yes, and…?”
You hesitate. He’s so annoying when he’s right. You’ve always hated him for it, particularly how effortlessly attractive he looked when he was gloating.
“And thank you. Happy now, you prick?”
“Very happy. Now we can talk on a coach journey like civilised fucking people rather than you having your fucking head buried in work every second.”
That one hit more of a nerve. Funnily enough, Roy had also found the seat next to yours on the coach from Richmond to Amsterdam, but you really had been preoccupied by your laptop then. Possibly the only time you’d spoken to him was to ask to squeeze by to get to the shitty bus bathroom. You had the decency to look embarrassed.
“I wasn’t the best seatmate last time, was I?” you said, “I am sorry about that, actually. When I’m planning these school visits, they often get a little all-consuming.”
“Don’t fucking apologise for all the fucking good work you do. Christ, that would make me a proper bastard. I saw some of the stuff you were doing on our way out and it’s important. Doesn’t mean you can’t take a fucking break, you know?”
You so want to take his obvious compliment in a cool, effortless way but you can already feel yourself getting hot.
“You were spying on my work?”
“Course I was. It’s a boring fucking bus and my seatmate wasn’t fucking talking to me,” he said, although this time he nudged you gently to let you know he wasn’t really annoyed, “I meant to say, put me down for the next school visit, will you? I know you’ve probably got enough, but…”
He doesn’t finish his sentence. You’re always surprised by how often Roy wants to be involved in what you do, but you shouldn’t be. He’s such a thoroughly good man wrapped up an unsuspecting exterior. You hadn’t asked him because he’d done the last four visits, but maybe you should have.
“I would put your name down, but some prick stole my laptop,” you said, teasing him this time. You finally managed to get a smile out of him, however brief, as he shook his head at you, “I’m kidding. Thank you. I should have asked, but I didn’t want to bother you. I’ll make sure you know about them from now on.”
“Good,” he confirmed, a single nod of his head, and then a few moments later - “You don’t fucking bother me by the way.”
“Not even when I’m trying to work on my mandatory holiday?” you joke, and he just grunts, so you’re forced to continue more sincerely even though it isn’t in your nature, “I’m guessing that might be why you chose to sit with me yet again even though I proved to be shit last time. Tell me if not, or I’ll end up being flattered.”
Yes, you loved bantering back and forth with Roy, but there was some hidden truth, some vulnerability behind your words. You were desperate to know why Roy had chosen to sit with you not once but twice, when he had plenty of people on this coach that he was close to. The two of you had become firm friends, you liked to think, over the past year or so, but there was a spot next to Isaac he could have taken, or with Ted, Beard and Rebecca at the very back. Part of you needed to hear what exactly had driven him to sit next to you, so you could eliminate the tiny hope at the back of your mind that maybe he thought about you as much as you thought about him.
“I don’t fucking know,” he started, but you knew him well enough to know that was his typical response when he was trying to work out what to say, “You’re…you know. We’re…fuck.”
And he stopped there. For some reason, you were speaking before you thought about it.
“We’re fucking, did you just say? Could’ve let me know.”
You didn’t know what made you say it, but the way Roy’s eyes almost bugged out of his head, you decided it was worth whatever awkwardness it might create in him. You burst out laughing at his expression, biting your lip to try to curtail it but not succeeding. At your reaction, he seemed to calm a little, and there was even a little huff that sounded almost like a laugh from him.
“You’re fucking awful, you are. I was trying to say something fucking nice about you and you fucking ruined it.”
He was kidding, but you could tell he also wasn’t. Matching his energy, you leaned in to him and gave him your best puppy dog eyes.
“No, don’t let me ruin it! Go on, say it anyway,” you almost begged, wondering if any of this was working or if he’d get up and walk away from you to another seat any minute. You vaguely realised how vigorously your heart was beating, “Say it!”
“Fucking hell, fine! Stop looking at me like that,” he insisted lowly, and you made a point of schooling your face into a serious expression, “Sometimes, you’re…fun to fucking be around, I guess. I like being wi- around you.”
You caught his slip. He liked being with you. If you ran away with what that one might mean, you might not recover.
“High praise. I like being around you too. You know that’s a normal thing to say to your friends, right? It shouldn’t be quite that hard.”
“Yeah, yeah, you’re fucking great at all this emotional stuff though aren’t you? You run a fucking charity, Y/N. Some of us have to…work at it.”
He was being serious, so you turned down the teasing. If he was willing to work on being a bit more emotional with you, you’d do anything to keep that going. He’d also just complimented you again and you hadn’t complimented him back once, which wouldn’t do at all.
“Yeah, I know. You’re actually fucking killing in that department recently, and you know it, so give yourself some credit,” you insist, watching a shadow of surprise cross his face. He nods, but you get the feeling he’s still trying to convince himself.
“Got you to fucking thank for that. You’re a good influence. On fucking all of us.”
“You keep saying all these nice things about me, Kent, and I’m going to be really fucking flattered,” you say, trying to downplay the impact you might have had on him, on the team, “You know it’s that cowboy back there doing the real heavy lifting.”
“Yeah, he’s fucking insufferable with it, isn’t he?” Roy agreed, “But me specifically then. The last year or so, I’ve been fucking better, and Ted’s been here three years.”
He wasn’t lying. He had been getting better and better with his emotions, with talking to people, with ensuring the people in his life that mattered knew just how much they mattered. This was about the third time in a month that Roy had suddenly gone a spree of complimenting you, and although it made you significantly uncomfortable, you couldn’t pretend you weren’t over the moon about it.
“You’ve made me more assertive, I think. So let’s call it even.”
“No.”
“No?” you questioned.
“No. You were fucking assertive before, you’re just trying to fucking deflect,” he said firmly, in the typical Roy Kent brand of caring in an angry tone, “I”m thanking you, so just fucking say you’re welcome and we can stop talking about this.”
You hesitated, but finally got up the courage to reach over and squeeze his hand as you replied.
“You’re welcome, then.”
You didn’t let your hand linger, no matter how much you wanted to, bringing it back into your lap and trying to ignore the sparks that slid across your fingers and flickered in the pit of your stomach. You watched Roy’s hand flex where you’d just held it, but he was staring straight ahead.
There were a few tension-filled moments of silence before he spoke up again, still staring at the seat in front of him like he was scared to look at you.
“Would you like to go to dinner when we get back?” he asked, in a voice that sounded like he had rehearsed the syllables. Your heart rate spiked, but you forced it to come back to earth again. He could just be anticipating how hungry he’ll be when you’re back, wanting some friendly company for the evening.
“Uh, sure, I love dinner,” you say, then want to smack yourself for how stupid that sounded, “What do you fancy?”
He growls, looking like he’s about to tear his hair out and you wonder what you’ve said wrong.
“You, alright? I fucking fancy you.”
You pause. Staring at him while he refuses to look at you. Your voice comes out breathy and disbelieving.
“For dinner?”
“No, I don’t want you for-” he growls and punches the seat in front of him, hard. Colin yelps but then starts a train of it, punching the seat in front of him with a laugh until it travels all the way down the bus. You would giggle if you weren’t worried about the man beside you. He takes a deep breath, then speaks:
“I’m inviting you to dinner because I like you. The dinner is the least fucking important thing in this scenario. I can’t have another fucking conversation with you where I’m fucking hinting every two seconds that I like you, and you’re sat there just looking at me like you do, fucking oblivious. It’s fine if you don’t want to, but I do. Want to. And want you.”
You stare at him in delighted shock. Yes, Rebecca had told you that the man wanted to ‘shag the bloody daylights out of you’ and that you should ‘just look at the way he looks at you, for fuck’s sake’, but you’d never believed her. And even if you could wrap your mind around Roy being attracted to you, you could never have predicted him actually wanting to take you for dinner. It made him infinitely more attractive as you stared up at him.
“I’m done now,” he said, voice a little strangled, “Your fucking turn. Please.”
“Yes,” you said, taking a leaf out of his book. You were elated when he finally looked at you, confused. He was breathing like he’d just run a marathon.
“Yes?”
“Yes to dinner. And to the rest of it,” you grin and have never appreciated one of his rare grins more when it’s fully focused on you. Still, there’s no way you can leave this as a serious moment alone, so you put on your best Roy Kent voice and narrow your eyes, “I fucking fancy you too.”
He actually laughs, a proper one, shaking his head as he chuckles. You join him in it, of course, ignoring the shocked look that Jamie was giving you from a few seats ahead at the sound of Roy’s laugh. When you’d finished laughing, not knowing what to do with yourself, you punch his arm lightly. It’s giddy and genuine.
You think he’ll punch you back, but instead he grabs your fist and maneuvres your hands until your fingers are intertwined and your hands rest on the seat between the two of you. It only makes your grin wider, and you know you’re staring at him again even though he’s back to refusing to look at you. You think it’s because he’s trying to hide his smile, but you can see it. It’s all you can see.
“Stop fucking looking at me like that,” he says gruffly and you laugh as you turn to stare out of the window instead, grinning out at the landscape whizzing by.
Roy squeezes your hand. You squeeze back.
#roy kent x reader#ted lasso x reader#ted lasso#roy kent#roy kent imagine#roy kent fanfiction#roy kent x you
1K notes
·
View notes
Text
i've got headaches and bad luck but they couldn't touch you
[not my gif. title from song Of All the Gin Joints in All the World]
pairing: joel miller x fem!reader (afab, use of she/her, use of the word girl)
rating: explicit. (18+. mdni.)
word count: 4.6k
requested: Could you write something (literally anything really) like mean Joel x feisty Reader but based on the ancient Fall Out Boys song "Of All the Gin Joints in All the World" pretty please? 🥺🥹 I was just listening and I thought the lyrics were perfect for your writing ❤️But as always no pressure and no problem at all if you don't like the idea or anything else. Lots of love! P.S. smut is very welcome btw hihihi
summary: “Joel's not one for feelings anymore, but you seem to pull them out of him like it's your goddamn job."
warnings: established previous hookups, use of girl/babygirl, established age gap (unspecified but addressed openly), brief mention of oral m!receiving, brief mention of reader and joel’s canon-typical scars. choking, mean!Joel & brat tamer!Joel, brat!reader lol, dirty talk (its joel), degradation, use of the word slut, slight dumbification, spitting, rough sex, unprotected PiV, cum eating, nipple play, slapping (tits, ass). think that's it!
notes: okay finally another mean!Joel for the soul!!! this is super unedited also. tysm for the request, obv inspired by the song Of All The Gin Joints in All the World by FOB. :) this was fun and i hope yall love it! dont b afraid to request anything yall wanna read at all and as always pls comment or reblog :) love u xoxo
[other Joel fics: mr. miller series fever landmines ]
★
Joel Miller isn't sure exactly when all this bullshit started.
one day, he was introduced to you fleetingly in the cafeteria while you and Maria had an intense conversation - he’s not sure if you spoke for more than ten seconds; but months later and Joel happens to know exactly what your sweaty skin tastes like on the sharpness of his tongue and could probably list his favorite pairs of underwear you own.
it's nothing, really.
you patrol together often, and Joel guesses that out of all the insufferable people he's had to deal with, you're definitely not the worst. perhaps your handiness with a trigger - not nearly as inept as his own but definitely a close second - helps; or maybe it's the way your mouth feels wrapped around his cock.
and he's not stupid; he knows exactly what Tommy was doing when he signed Joel with you for patrol - the same shit he'd been pulling since they were thirty years younger and Joel was fresh out of the relationship with Sarah's mom. but it's different now, because life is not the same - nothing is the same.
Joel's not one for feelings anymore, but you seem to pull them out of him like it's your goddamn job.
you are one talkative motherfucker; usually, that'd drive Joel up a wall, but after repeated and incessant exposure to Ellie for such an extended period, his patience has surprisingly grown.
and unlike others, you never acted nervous or scared by him. irritated, maybe, but it's not like he cares much if you get irritated by his attitude; you're worse than he can be.
at first, he thought you were just fucking him because you just didn't know who he really was yet. but months into whatever this shit is, and you're still - for whatever fucking reason - hanging around him, even after everything. he likes it, though, that you fight fire with fire.
and maybe that's why Tommy stuck you two together, because in some ways it was inevitable - maybe it was a good thing, Joel thinks.
but this morning, as Joel's mind slams against his body, jolting him awake, his aching head makes him double-guess that.
it's weird how different it all is now - before you, Joel was tortured through nights plagued with sweats and memories. blood, pain, loss. he used to dream restlessly of life and all of its unforgiving horrors; but now, to his shock, he finds himself plagued with dreams of you.
he gasps awake - he's not sure he'll ever stop that.
but this time, you're next to him in the bed. his skin feels warm as the light filters through the blinds that stay constantly pulled down this time of year to retain the cool air and Joel lets out a shuttered sigh, his head aching.
it's only the second time you've stayed the night. he's never stayed at yours, god forbid - but a small part of him aches this morning when you slide out of his heavy, sleep-addled muscles. in the absence of your heat there is still bliss for a moment, until he's roused fully by your voice.
"these sheets are dirty." the sound carries into his ears, melodic and fiery. he cracks one eye open, hand raising to rub over his face - a deep, tired sigh.
"g'mornin' to you too." he snarks, sighing as he pulls himself on aching muscles to blink his eyes open; you stand over the bed, on the side that usually remains cold an empty while Joel thrashes in fits of restless sleep. there's not a single scrap of clothing on your body.
he feels himself stir at the sight of you, naked, neck painted in a splattering of beautiful marks that'd been pulled forth in moments of ecstasy the night before.
you send him a half smirk, shrugging as you tug on a shirt - his, fuck, his stomach swirls at the sight of you wrapped in him. something primal crawls in his chest as you smile at him, legs almost glowing in their bareness as they knock against the side of the mattress. your fingers brush the fabric to the left of his head.
"there's stains on the pillows." you shake your head, your face alluring in its tease. he feels himself roll his eyes as he grunts, "you're actin' like it ain't your makeup stainin' it?"
he stares at the marks on the pillowcase; black, from that shit you sometimes put on your eyes which just makes them all the more beautiful, wide, and alluring. the makeup that's surely expired after all this time but still is something you like to do to, as you'd mentioned once, 'reclaim your humanity.' whatever.
Joel would never admit it to you, but he hadn't even really tried to wash out those stains; something about them gives him a warmth in his chest every morning that he wakes up in this cold bed.
but when his eyes fall back to you in your silence, you smirk and it hits him: you're fucking teasing him.
he glares at you as your lips curl in a huff of a laugh, shaking your head. "if you keep complainin' about every damn thing, might as well just fuck you on the floor." he mutters, mostly to himself- but also to see the way your thighs shift, eyes widening slightly as color washes your cheeks. you're squirming at his words, just like that - oh, he's got you pinned.
you'd like that, you dirty little thing.
but you regain your composure quicker than lightning, ready to snap back; yet another tally to add on the list of things he admires about you.
"you're such a gentleman, Miller." you snide, fanning yourself sardonically with one hand as you roll your eyes, searching for your underwear.
he remembers the first time you'd said that to him -
"why so shy?" you'd purred.
the memory of your voice curls around his ears as he huffs, watching you bend over and give him a complete view of your ass as you fetch your panties from the floor.
"c'mon, Joel, you don't need to be such a gentleman. 's nothing you haven't seen before." you'd stripped yourself of your shirt, your pert nipples pebbling in the cold breeze as he'd sat, cleaning his rifle. "the hell's the matter with you?" he'd grumbled; but it didn't stop either of you. you'd been pressed between him and the splitting backseat of the broken down crashed car within seconds, anyways.
his eyes meet yours as you stand again.
he snarks, "well you’re givin' me a headache, an' I've only been up for two minutes." he glares at you, swinging to pull his boxers over his hips, standing up to find his shirt. he pointedly ignores the glare you send him at his grumpiness.
"you're the one acting dumb," you mutter, "acting like I'm the one who gives you headaches." you retort, a teasing glint in your eye; he knows that look. Joel knows you'd never get a headache from him - as much as he pisses you off, he knows you're too fiery, too lucky to get caught up in whatever miserable puddle he's drowning in.
because Joel's bad luck curls around his fists wherever he goes; the talons reaching out, crawling through every hallway and seeping through every door. you, on the other hand, are like a goddamn firecracker. Joel hates the idea, but you're... somehow gifted in that way.
he's convinced his bad luck couldn't touch you if it tried.
no matter the dumb shit you pull - forgetting a flashlight, not flipping off your safety that one moment when the clicker had stumbled out of the brush; all of that, and you escape unscathed, nothing but a giggle and a half-shrug from you before you move on to the next stupid thing.
if you weren't such a goddamn brat, it'd be charming.
his eyes snap to yours as your words fall from your lips; a burning in his chest at your tone. he watches your legs carry you into his bathroom, and he can't help it when his follow yours.
you haven't even flipped on the lights before he shuts the door behind him - you're already wearing that snarky fucking smile on your face, and he's straining already against his boxers.
he stares down at you, crowding you slowly into the wall. "what the fuck did you just say to me?" he hisses, mouth close to yours. as you turn your chin up towards his face, he can tell that you try your hardest to control your smirk, playing into the tense energy that's emanating from his chest.
"I said you're acting dumb."
you repeat, tilting your head slightly as you drink in the darkness in his eyes. lord, you'd let that darkness swallow you in a fucking heartbeat.
speaking of; your own heartbeat thunders in your chest, anticipating. you know what's coming, you can nearly taste it on your tongue.
"oh, 's that right?" Joel asks, tilting his head to stare down at you. you swallow as you stare back into those deep irises, the small bit of golden light that shines through the small bathroom window illuminating in an ominously heavenly ray.
his hand settles on the crook of your shoulder and neck, sliding gently upwards as you nod your head defiantly, pushing as far as you can to see when he'll snap. his eyes glisten in temptation; daring you to act up more.
raising your brows, you try to play like it's obvious, "waking up and complaining about your headaches, old man?" you tut gently, shaking your head innocently. "I don't think it's my fault that you fucked me twice, immediately passed out and now your head hurts when you've woken up the next morning. you know better than to push yourself in your old age, Joel. that's stupid." you add coyly, knowing it'll push him over the edge - he loves it when you act like a brat, no matter how much he denies it.
his response is immediate and exactly what you'd hoped for.
he's on you in a split second - hand sliding from your shoulder to grip your throat, pushing you back onto the wall of the bathroom. the towel bar digs into your middle-back slightly and you gasp in arousal at the force of his body on yours. you can feel his cock, hard and straining in his boxers, as it presses into your lower stomach.
"y'wanna play like that, baby?" he growls, "why you fuckin' around with an old man like me, then?" he asks.
your face heats up, arousal flooding your core, your cunt slowly wetting itself at the purr of his voice - the meaner the words, the larger the flame.
"hm?" he gently pushes, raising his brows as his hand squeezes gently on your throat, nudging you against the wall further; your gasp is slightly rasped under the pressure, your whole body screaming with desire. this is what you love - mean, angry, hungry Joel Miller. "'s it because nobody fucks you like I do, is that it?"
his knee slides between yours, wedging himself high up, rubbing suddenly against your aching pussy, the material of your cotton already soaked with a damp spot that rubs against his thick thigh.
"Joel, fuck-" you groan, already willing to just do what you can to get him to touch you. his hand on your throat tightens at your word, thigh rutting up to slide against your needy clit, your hips bucking at the feeling. "-'s because nobody else is so easy." your fiery mouth betrays your body; the snarky comment snaps his eyes to yours, a dark breath leaving his lips.
"that's ironic," he snaps, "comin' from someone who begged me to fuck them for hours."
your face burns at the memory of the first time you and Joel'd hooked up; your desperate voice hoarse from pleading him to fuck you - out in the middle of the woods, a sleeping bag that, by the end, had rips on it from rocks and twigs and the force of his thrusts; the shyness gone from either of you as your touches made up for all the silence between you.
he hums lowly, watching you as you swallow at the memory, his thigh rutting up again and pulling a yelp of pleasure from your lips. "y'don't feel so high 'n mighty when I fuck you stupid, right baby?" he asks, voice dripping with condescendence as he nods gently, encouraging you to answer him. your core throbs at his words, your mouth going dry.
his hand leaves your throat; you swallow a gulp of air, staring with wide eyes as he grasps your jaw roughly. "answer me."
"n-no, I don't." you mutter, voice sounding small; the arousal that pulses through your veins begs your mouth to be smart, do what Joel says so he'll give in to what you want.
he smirks, hands roughly grabbing the thick of your hips and flipping you around to press you against the counter, your hips bending as he shoves himself just behind you. your eyes meet yourself and his own hawkish gaze in the mirror in front of you; your heated breath fogs up the mirror in the faint morning light.
his fingers thread through your hair, tugging you back again as he tilts your head back. his upside down face, smirking down at you, has your thighs clenching - "open." he orders, voice stern.
your tongue sticks out and he wastes no time spitting roughly onto your tongue, moving your head back to stare into the mirror; his eyes meet yours as his spit slides over your tongue and his furrowed brows twitch with a slight smirk. "look at you, doin' what I tell you. now swallow it and say thank you."
your core flutters at his words deliciously as you do as you're told; swallowing, you take a breath and mutter, "thank you," - though it's more breathless than you expected, Joel seems to approve. he hums, "there are those manners," he mutters into your ear, cock pressing against the swell of your ass. "almost seemed like you'd forgotten you had them."
"didn't forget." you mutter, face heating up as your pussy aches, fluttering around nothing and desiring for his fingers, his cock - anything.
one rough palm slides his shirt up your torso, exposing your bare tits to both of you through the mirror. with his face stooped down near your neck, a short inhale of your hair before his hand reaches it's destination - your throat.
"then why're you actin' up?" he rasps, teeth grazing your shoulder. he squeezes his hand again and your eyes roll back in pleasure, arousal soon slicking your thighs as you think you may die from all the teasing. "you don't wanna cum?"
your eyes widen, breath halting as you shake your head, "wh- no- no!" you hiss, "I do want to cum, please."
his other hand raises, slapping your breast harsh and quick; your gasp of shock tapers off into a whine of pleasure, your nipples hard in arousal as his palm comes to soothe over the sting.
"then why're you acting like this?" he asks again, shaking his head. another slap, this time to your other breast. his eyes follow the skin of your chest; the way you gasp, your whines at the slight stinging and the pleasure that follows. fingers pinch your nipples, teasing in circles before another sharp slap echoes through the room. "just a little brat, y'can't help yourself." he decides, biting on your neck lightly.
you can feel him rut against you hard, grinding his hips as he lets out a short groan. you let out a low moan, whining slightly when he smacks your tits again, skin glowing with the impact. his eyes meet yours in the mirror. "quit the whinin'," he grunts, rutting his hard cock against your ass, "you'll be stuffed full of me soon enough." he grunts, "then we'll see who's dumb."
your shaky moan sounds more like a groan, elbows falling to steady yourself as Joel releases your throat, tossing you forward to grab your hips instead. he pulls you back, grinding into you as his head tilts back in how own small groan of pleasure. "this ass." Joel grunts to himself as he palms the curve of your ass in both large hands, one falling to smack harsh onto the left.
you're dripping down the inside of your thighs as he ruts against you twice more; thick fingers soon slide to thumb at the slick wet of your panties. his fingers tease the wet material that's glued to your pussy with need, tracing over your lips lightly over the fabric. "pretty pussy, just for me." he mutters; you nod, looking up at him through the mirror, "all for you, Joel." you affirm, voice shaking with anticipation.
"you gonna be good when I fill you up, baby?" he lifts his brow, stern look as he palms himself. fuck, he's so sexy behind you like this, his thumb slowly dragging the material of your panties to the side and exposing your weeping cunt; you nod, "yes, I'll do anything-"
you're cut off by a sharp gasp as the stretch of his cock's head cuts off your brain. he eases in gently at first which you're more than grateful for - no matter how many times Joel fucks you, his size is always something you have to adjust to; especially after your rounds last night left you barely able to walk straight.
he lets out a breath, "there y'go, baby, take me." he says it surprisingly gently, easing in inch by inch as you breathe deeply, your soaked pussy easing his cock through your channels. his cock is heavy and aching as he slides into you, sheathing you fully within another few seconds - Joel's hands grip so hard on your ass, splaying you open for him, that you think his fingers will remain there for days.
he's still only for a moment, letting you accommodate to his size before he's leaning forward to press his chest to your back, "gonna fuck you stupid, baby."
"please, Joel," you groan, cunt fluttering, begging him to move. "do it."
it's all that he needs before he's setting a pace that has you whining under him, your breath choking as you brace yourself agains the counter of the sink.
it's bliss. his hips are sharp, the reach of his cock pressing against the spongy spot inside you, dragging against your pulsing walls. "fuck, so deep-" you hiss, eyes closing in pleasure as he presses himself against you, hips surely going to bruise against the thrusts that shove you into the countertop.
one hand sneaks over your front, grasping at your tits as his cock reaches up into you deeply. he lets out a grunt, "fuckin'- christ, you're s-so tight," he grunts, "even after fuckin' you all night."
you moan, the quick bout of his praise causing you to squeeze around him, trapping him in your aching desire. the both of you moan at the feeling and suddenly one hand presses on your spine until you're low to the counter. his hands grab your shoulders, fingers curling around the base of your throat as he changes his pace to hard and rough, the sound of your ass against his hips nearly hitting your ears over your cries of pleasure.
the noises of your arousal swallowing his cock echo around the room in a familiar, comforting chorus as you both let out shuttering moans; his strong arms pull you back until you're once again pressed against his broad chest. his breath fans over your neck and you whine slightly when his thrusts press you up onto your tip-toes. his lips find your ear, "how's that feel?" your hole flutters from the deepness in his voice - he groans at the feeling.
your response is a whine of ecstasy as you claw at his forearms, head tilting back until you can almost feel his erratic heartbeat. his chest rumbles with a light chuckle, "look, barely took ya any time to get fucked out on my cock," he praises, hand petting your wild hair, "knew you'd be good for me. always take what I give you, right?"
you nod, desperate to reach the climax that's easily built within you from the stretch of him deep in you and his voice in your ear. your clit aches from being ignored and your hand snakes down to rub light circles on it; your hips jolt as you gasp raggedly, eyes fluttering shut in pleasure.
"no." he growls, hand grabbing your jaw sternly as he pounds into you, "when I'm fuckin' you, you keep your eyes on me." he snaps, squeezing your cheeks. "'s that clear?"
you nod in the mirror, whines getting louder as his name falls nearly incoherently from your lips- you see his lips ghost over your neck, the smirk that spreads over his pink lips as you finally get out a strangled, "Joelpleaseplease- s'close-"
he knows what you need; you and Joel are each other's best escape. he pistons into you hard, chasing your high as he feels it spasming close around him. "easy, huh?" he snarls, hips just as harsh as his words, eyes sharp on yours. "who's easy, baby - me, or the one beggin' like a slut to cum on my cock?"
for someone so quiet and closed off, Joel Miller has never shied away from using his goddamn words when he's fucking you, that's for sure. his words, his accent - they push you towards the edge and it almost distracts you from his question. his eyebrows raise in the silence as you gasp for words, moans choked as his fingers slide down from your jaw to squeeze your throat.
"look at'cha, can't even speak for me," he groans, his hand suddenly snaking down to smack your away from your clit; two larger, calloused fingers replace your shaky ones and you wail at the stimulation, almost too much.
you blink up at him through the mirror, unable to speak, unable to think as you feel the crest of something incredibly blissful growing; you let out a whine of ecstasy. "I'm- I'm easy," you concede, finally able to spit your words out, your voice higher than normal in your pleasure.
Joel nods, kissing your sweaty hairline, "'s goddamn right you are, babygirl," he hisses, "easy for me. this pretty little pussy is mine, isn't it?"
you scream, "yours, Joel-" before he barely finishes the sentence.
with your words, he smiles against your neck - the feeling of it sends goosebumps over your whole torso. "you're a lucky girl," he growls in your ear, teeth brushing the shell before licking it gently, "you can cum."
you barely realize you've hit your orgasm until you’re writhing - a white-hot, searing arousal streaking your vision as your eyes roll back. he fucks you steadily through your orgasm, your thighs closing slightly around his large palm, but his fingers don't stop their motions on your clit.
you shake and stutter for gasps as he pounds into you, chasing his own high that's been spurred - by your own words or the clenching of your orgasm around him, you're unsure.
"love how you feel-" he groans, voice weakening as he nears his own orgasm, hips sloppy as he pushes your face down, against the cool tile of the bathroom sink. "fuck, baby, made to take this cock."
his sentences are choppy, his gasps and grunts of pleasure mixing with the slap of your ass against him as he thrusts, your legs tired as he fills you full and then suddenly pulls out. you gasp at the suddenness of his absence, turning to look at him as if betrayed - but he looks completely gone, eyes dark with need. "gonna cum on your tits, sweetheart."
your stomach flips at the word - one he's never used before - and you relax into his harsh grip, moving down to the ground on your knees as he grunts, "take this shit off now."
his shirt is on the ground in half a second, your breasts bare to him as he fists his cock, eyes on you and lidded with pleasure. your hands fall onto his strong thighs, looking up at him in awe as he fists his cock, slick with your sticky spend, tip flushed and veins stretching over the shaft. "please, cum on me, want it so bad, Joel," you whine - his hand caresses your jaw and slips over your lips, sticking his thumb into your mouth. you suck eagerly and he moans your name deep, head tilting back in ecstasy.
"fuck," he grunts, slipping his thumb out of your mouth before you can even swirl your tongue around it, and then he's hitting his orgasm.
ropes of his cum land on your tits, a small bit gathering on your chin as he slows his hand, letting out a few sharp breaths. he's barely caught his breath before your fingers are gathering a swipe of his thick cum, bringing it to your mouth. his dark eyes follow you through his labored breaths as you slowly suck his spend off of your fingers, "fuckin'- pretty," he mumbles into his hand as he runs a palm over his face, shaking his head.
you smile, cheeks heating up. the sun is rising and the room is fully golden, bouncing off the mirror and illuminating his tan skin, the scars on his body and yours. he's pretty, you realize.
you tell him so, quietly - in the silence of the bathroom. his scowl softens and you swear you see a blush forming as he rolls his eyes down at you from where you perch on the linoleum.
Joel always says you only tell him sweet things to get him to fuck you - but in the afterglow of your actions, you catch sight of your makeup-stained pillowcase back in Joel's bedroom and it makes you grin. you know he doesn't wash it for a reason, the same reason you keep coming back to him.
and you also know that the way he smooths his thumb over your hairline, the way your own hands in turn soothe over his thighs - those actions, they make up for everything else that's unspoken.
.·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·..·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·..·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:
taglist: @satansgoatt @elissaaa @queerponcho @bbyanarchist @lapricot @umavvitch @asreadbyaj @dinsbaby @cottoncandytomu @onmytallesttiptoess @switchbladedreamz @missannwinchester @abs-2020 @afandomidiot @cosm1c-babe @rogersbarnesxx @carleenphillips-blog @bonnibuckets @nightlovechild @jazzyspasms @girlboybug @cannolighost @pastelnap @userpedros @feministfanboi @frogers @grhowls @daddy-din @gothoppered @totallynotastanacc @robbatlover @casssiopeia @wannab-urs @redhotkitchen @joelapologist2001 @silkiers
message me if i forgot to tag u. i was pretty lazy with this one sorry. requests are open.
.·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·..·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·..·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:
#joel miller x reader smut#joel miller smut#joel tlou smut#joel x reader smut#joel x reader#joel smut#joel tlou#tlou fanfiction#tlou spoilers#tlou hbo#the last of us smut#the last of us (tv)#the last of us x reader#joel miller x you#joel miller x reader#pedro pascal x reader
2K notes
·
View notes
Text
Drunk Words, Sober Thoughts.
Azriel x Reader
Prompt: Rita has a new supply of Moonshine and gives a jar to the IC. This creates a blacked out drunk Azriel.
Warnings: alcohol use, flirting, suggestive, mentions of sex, drunken behavior. Let me know if I left anything out.
Note: Literally sitting in bed when I had this idea. This is just for fun and I hope you enjoy!
Music playing in the halls of Rita’s surrounds the Inner Circle as well as laughter. Shot glasses banging against their table, squeals of joy from seeing the glasses of those pretty cocktails that Feyre and Mor like so much, and the beautiful smile that graces my mates face. Tonight is for fun and bonding.
Azriel has been on a month long mission just returning to me a few days ago where we cooped up in our cozy home, enjoying the song of our mating bond before returning to society. When he’s gone, there’s a hole in my chest. Color, music, art becomes void. Life is not as exciting without him by my side. Even after decades of being married and mated the bond is still alive and thriving as if it was still the night he took a bite out of that meal I made him to accept him as my mate.
I’m an accomplished fae. I’ve strategized wars, wrote countless books on the plant life of Prythian that has helped healers cultivate new medicines, and have helped the Inner Circle for almost two centuries now. When he’s away, I keep myself occupied and have my job to thank for that but that aching feeling doesn’t go away.
That’s the strength of a mating bond, it brings males to their knees. It brought Azriel to his. Our souls submitting to one another and refusing to settle for anything less than each other.
“What’s so interesting, love?” Azriel teases as I can’t my eyes off him. Those hazel eyes trail over me, even in the haze of faelights it feels like he can see every inch of me. He bites his lip as if he’s recalling just a few hours ago when he was biting the meat of my thighs. I know I am. Heat rises in my cheeks as he laughs and leans down to the leg of my chair and pulls me closer to him. The bond between thrums with satisfaction that our beings are even closer now. His hand finds the back of my neck and he caresses.
“You, my heart. I can’t seem to take my eyes off of you.” I tease him back.
The shots making my mind looser and my flirty tendencies arise. I’m a horny drunk when it comes to this male. Who wouldn’t?
Azriel raises his brows and smirks. He leans down to press a sweet kiss then pulls back.
“You are lovely in this dress. I can’t wait to rip it off you tonight.” He says as he presses sweet kisses along my cheek and jaw.
“Azriel you better not! It’s embarrassing having to keep going to the tailor because you have no self control.”
“Self control? We’ll see how much self control I have later, you’ll begging for me I promise you that.” He laughs.
Suddenly a heavy presence can be felt behind us. I don’t even have to turn to know it’s Cassian.
He slaps the back of Azriel’s chair and loudly yells, “Stop the heavy petting and come to the bar, Rita just got a new drink called ‘Moonshine’ it’s apparently a lot stronger than any wine or whiskey.”
Cassian doesn’t wait for an answer and picks me up while yelling over his shoulder, “If you want her, Az you gotta come get her!” We leave a trail of giggles as my grumpy mate follows.
Azriel trusts his brother and knows Cassian just missed him and wants to have fun. It’s why he doesn’t cut off his hands for touching my body.
Cassian drops me on a bar stool and leans over to drop a sloppy kiss to Nesta’s cheek as she bats him. From the corner of my eye though I can see her pulling him back to her to give him a proper kiss. I’m happy for my friends as they had a very tumultuous start to their mate ship. As I’m trying not to be nosy in my friends business Azriel comes to stand behind me, strategically blocking me from any other males or females view. Azriel is selfish when it comes to me. I can’t blame him, he’s waited centuries for me. And I him.
Rita walks up to us with a jar of clear liquid. It looks innocent, like water, but knowing her that liquid will make you regret ever being born. But that’s the appeal to Rita. She knows how to have fun and has quality supply.
“Alright ladies and gentlebats this is Moonshine. It’s technically whiskey but its process makes the alcohol stronger and you drunker quicker. I will give you a shot, on the house, if you like it I’ll sell a jar to you. This stuff is no joke and illegal in some courts. More recently our High Lord and Lady gave me the okay to produce it.” Rita winks to Feyre and Rhys.
We all look over them and Rhys shrugs, “Feyre wanted to try it, I couldn’t say no.”
We all laugh at the lack of ability our friend has to say no to his wife. I see Feyre eye the glass with excitement.
“Feyre you do the honors of first shot!” I yell out as she takes the glass and downs it in one gulp.
She freezes and we wait on bated breath. Her eye twitches and she gives a full body shiver. We break in laughter at her funny reaction as she immediately takes her fruity cocktail from Rhys, who was mid sip, and takes a few gulps.
Feyre’s face twist in disgust as she tells us, “That’ll definitely get you fucked up, I feel like I’ve grown chest hair.”
Laughter fills our area again. Rhys presses a kiss against Feyre’s head as he reaches for his own shot glass. Each of us besides Amren and Varian, who are currently in Summer, reach for our own. I clank my shot glass against Azriel’s and down my shot. I immediately regret this decision as pure alcohol burns my throat. It’s worse than the tonics Madja gives us. At least we get some what rewarded for that. I put my glass down and look over at my mate. His free hand softly rubbing my upper back, he downs the shot and smack his lips.
“It’s definitely strong but I don’t mind it.” Azriel says to the group.
I pout at him and say, “Of course it doesn’t bother you, Shadowsinger.” He rolls his eyes and moves his hand from the back of my neck to the front. Slowly moving my head back so far I have no choice but to look at him and only him.
“It’s Shadowsinger now is it?” He smirks down at me. Before I can reply peanuts that Rita supplies generously across her bar are being pelted at us. Azriel loosens his hold on me as we both turn to our family.
“You two are like bunnies, I feel like I need to spray you two with a bottle of water.” Nesta says.
I gasp and laugh out, “Like you have any room to talk! The House of Wind is contaminated with you and Cassian’s fluids.” All I get is more peanuts being thrown at me. The two of us dissolve into giggles as I throw them back at her. Cassian and Azriel having to take it away.
Cassian then turns his attention to Rita watching us in amusement.
“We’ll take a jar please, you always know how to make me feel good.” He winks at her. Rita rolls her eyes and passes him the jar.
“I’m charging you extra for that little stunt.” She says back to him.
“Oh c’mon that was a compliment! You’ve got the best stuff in the city.” He argues as Nesta shushes him. Nesta opted out of drinking, instead preferring to smoke mirthroot.
We all go back to our designated booth empty shit glasses in tow. We decide to play truth or drink. Azriel being the secretive person he is rather take the shot then tell the truth. I have a feeling he just wants to indulge the rare drink. I don’t blame him, he works hard for his court and he’s allowed to drop his inhibitions. Ever since we’ve gotten together I’ve taught him about self care and allowing one self to enjoy the moment. The centuries of training and spy work are still instilled in him, something even I can’t take away. But with the love of his mate and family he’s allowed himself to be happy.
I didn’t like the moonshine so I stuck to my cocktails then water, as I had a feeling someone needed to be more sober than the others. Azriel takes his eighth shot when he freezes. I still, looking around to see if anything was amiss. When I look back at him I see him smiling.
“You are a rare jewel.” He says so casually. Looking at me like I’m the only person in the world. He reaches over to brush my hair out of my eyes when instead he pokes me. This clumsy move tells me, he’s drunk. He giggles as I jump back slightly from a literal finger poking my eye.
“I’m so sorry love. Wow your skin is so soft.” Azriel starts touching my face in fascination. He then pulls me into his strong embrace. The awkward is angle but he just sighs constantly. Happy to be holding me. He starts petting my hair as if I’m a cute kitten.
The confused yet amused looks across the table have me pulling back from my mates embrace when he loudly says, “Noooooo, don’t leave me. I was so comfortable.”
I can hear and see Rhys and Cass laughing and clutching each other. Azriel RARELY gets drunk. I feel bad, maybe I should’ve limited how much he could drink since it’s not his usual stuff. Azriel has a fairly high tolerance for his usual whiskey or beer. Eight shots of his regular choice of drink would be nothing but him drinking moonshine has him reacting differently. I feel a little guilty but Azriel has carried me home and taken care of me plenty of times. Tonight I promise myself to return the favor.
“I know my heart, but I need a glass of water and so do you. I’ll be right back, I promise.” I caress his face and he looks at me with so much love I almost don’t want to go even if it’s a few minutes.
“Okay, hurry back. Take a shadow.” He says with a pout. A shadow always sticks with me regardless of his command or not. I shove my love down our bond for his thoughtfulness. Azriel gives me a goofy grin and pushes his love down to me.
“I need a drink, c’mon. Lover boy will be just fine.” Feyre says as she drags me away from my mate.
His eyes trailing after me until Cass and Rhys grab his shoulders to get his attention. Knowing my mate is in safe hands has me turning to Feyre. We talk a little about her art studio and Nyx. She confesses to having a bit of Mom guilt when she goes out. The alcohol making her a bit weepy from missing her son. I distract her by dragging her to the dance floor, after checking to make sure Azriel was still with the boys and has a glass of water.
After a few songs Mor and Nesta join us. I still keep an eye on my mate, making sure he’s okay and having fun. The next time I turn my eyes to him he’s gone. Panic fills my chest as I look around the bar for him. When I look up to the second floor I see him and his brother attempting to climb the rail. At that moment I decide it’s time to go home. I grab the girls and haul their asses the second floor before any of our mates cracks their skull open. The boys had way more moonshine than we did.
We successfully get them away from the railing, I grab Azriel’s face and he gently shoves me off of him. I frown at him, water lining my eyes at his rejection towards me. I go to ask him what’s wrong but before I do he tells me, “I am a mated male! You can not touch me.”
He sways a little grabbing onto Rhys for support. Rhys is already getting yelled at by his High Lady but she stops to turn to Azriel in amusement.
“What did he just say?” Feyre says to me. I stay silent for a moment realizing the situation. I slightly smile at my mates loyalty even though it is me who is touching him. I tell Feyre to grab Rhys and I can handle Azriel.
“Azriel, my heart. It’s me, I’m your mate.” I tell him gently helping him find his balance.
“I don’t want to go home with you. I want my mate. She will take care of me. I don’t need you.” As he’s still struggling to walk. I ignore him and help him down the stairs all the while he’s protesting insisting he has a wife and mate waiting for him at home. I roll my eyes fondly. Knowing it’s going to a rough walk home. He insists that I only touch his arm.
“I am a gentleman and my wife would be mad I let you walk home alone but I am not sharing a bed with you. She is only one I share my bed with. I love her.” He says to me, total seriousness.
I take a look at him noting his shirt is wrinkled from Cassian constantly grabbing onto him, his hair is wild, and his walk is staggered. I make a mental note to never let him drink Moonshine again. He trips slightly making me grab onto his back and front. He looks at me weirdly and takes my hands off his body.
“I don’t know youuuu. My body is reserved for my wife, I am fine with walking on my own.” His words are sloppy and he trips again. Laughing at him I ignore his protests and guide him to our shared home. The walk is a struggle as he keeps tripping yet insisting I keep my hands off him. I shove my love down the bond hoping he’ll recognize me that way. I feel more assured that even if I wasn’t with him and he was drunk he’d always come home to me. I hear him sigh with content and he lazily slaps his chest.
“This here, in my heart, she’s calling to me. I need to go home to her. I can feel her. I want to go home.” He pouts.
“Okay big guy, I’m gonna get you home to her. I’m sure she misses you.” I say, playing along. If I play along I’m hoping it’ll make him more amiable.
“She does! I can feel her even when I’m miles and miles away. I miss her too. Sometimes when I’m in the same room as her, I miss her. I just want her all to my self.” He confesses, I notice he’s started to slowly relax letting me guide him home. The thought of seeing me being his motivator. My heart is fluttering seeing him like this. Azriel is usually so smooth and calculated. His words to me sound like poetry, like a crafted song made just for me to hear. Now he’s confessing his love to, how he perceives, a stranger. Apart of me knows that he must know it’s me. Even if it’s deep down. But I can’t help but feel so special to him.
I finally spot our home, the sight of our porch makes me let an out a sound of relief.
Azriel looks to what I see and goes, “How do you know where I live? I don’t remember telling you. I wouldn’t have told you! I told you that I don’t want to go home with you.” He pushes himself away from me stumbling to our small gate. He struggled to unlock and me being exhausted from helping a 6’5 Illryian male slap his hands away and move to open it. He rubs his hand where I slapped and looks at me with a pout.
“Oh you’re okay! Stop being a baby and come inside please.” I tell him, laughing lightly at him. He moves to walk past me but turns before I can even take a step on the porch.
“This is as far as you can go. My wife will not be disrespected by having another female in our home.” He says with a serious face. The message isn’t as threatening since he’s still swaying and eyes glossed over. I smile at him and make a move to walk around him but he pushes his arms out, clumsily I might add, and repeats what he just said. I hold my arms up in surrender to this ridiculous statement.
“Azriel, my heart. I am your wife, you are mated to me. And I want to be in our bed and snuggle. Don’t you?” I ask giving him my best puppy dog eye. I don’t even know if it’ll work if the liquor made him forget who I was entirely. He goes to reply when he bends over to his side and pukes. I rush to his side and rub his back. He stand up again and leans against a pillar on our porch. His face smushed against it I can faintly hear.
“I want my mate…I’m not going home with you.” I roll eyes, trying not to get upset with him because it isn’t his fault and I know I’m not a doll to be around when I’m drunk. I walk towards our door, it unlocks automatically due to the ward Azriel insisted on placing. I try to gently push him inside. His wings knocking over a vase I was gifted from a past High Lord of Summer, I grimace as the antique lays broken on the floor. He looks around for what made the loud sound and he gasps loudly as if I was the one broken on the floor.
“My wife is going to kill me! Fuck, fuck, shit. Oh my gods I need to go to summer now! I need to go before she notices it’s broken.” He says making a move for the door. I immediately put a stop to that and drag him to our bedroom. I think he’s exhausted himself and flops down on the bed. Not making any moves. I start unlacing his boot and once I’ve got them off I go for his pants.
He slaps my hands away and goes, “I can undress myself. You have no right to touch me there! Go home before my wife finds you, she’ll kill you. My mate is verrrry possessive of me. She won’t like youuuu.” He sings at me.
He starts giggling and taking off his pants and shirt while moving to grab my pillow and holds onto it like it’s the answer of all his prayers.
“I miss her so much. I’m in bed but she isn’t here. It smells like her, I never want to smell anything again. Only her.” I make a face at him, I didn’t see how that makes sense but he’s drunk so I don’t question it. I make sure he has a glass of water and is tucked into bed before I make my move to join him. As soon as I start to move the cover he jolts back up, still clutching my pillow.
“Thank you for taking me home but I insist you take the couch. I will never share a bed with another female. I will not have our marriage bed tainted by a stranger.” He says eyeing me like I’m the King of Hybern resurrected.
“Enough, sweetheart. Tonight has been really funny and sweet but I want to sleep. Don’t you want to cuddle?” I say, I glance at the clock noting the late hour. He doesn’t make a move and stays silent. Giving me the answer I needed.
“As I stated you can take the couch as thank you but you have to leave before my WIFE comes home.” Azriel states, emphasizing the wife part as if I’m the drunken one.
“Okay I give up, I’m sleeping on the couch. Goodnight my love.” I say stealing a quick kiss from him that leaves him stuttering and blushing.
“Y-you just kissed me! That’s so rude, that’s-“ I close the door cutting off his rant. I go down the hall for our closet where we keep the extra blankets and pillows. I settle in our large and comfy couch that Azriel insisted on getting when we moved in. I’m now thankful he insisted. I start laughing recalling the night. Tonight was stressful but has shown me how loved I am. I have a male who’s loyal and kind. Even when he thought I was a stranger he wanted to walk me home so I wasn’t alone. I’m thankful to call him mine. I’m thankful to be his. I drift off to sleep with a soft smile, excited to tease him to no end in the morning for this stunt he pulled tonight.
——
Sunlight enters my home, the warmth of it caressing my cheek. I nuzzle closer to the warmth when I realize it’s Azriel’s hand. He’s sitting on the floor, his hair is a mess and he’s laying his head down close to mine. His eyes look groggy and I can tell he didn’t have a good sleep.
“Where were you last night? I couldn’t sleep without you.” He whispers gently, as if the sound of his own voice made his head ache.
I start laughing loudly, Azriel flinching back and rubbing his head. I start laughing so hard I start crying. My mate looks at me unamused.
“I’m sorry my love. But you literally kicked me out of our bed and made me sleep here. You insisted.” I tell him, laughter seeping through my words.
His mouth drops down in shock. He’s still rubbing his head and I feel bad so I start massaging his scalp the way I know he likes. I gets himself up off the floor and into my awaiting arms. Azriel secretly loves being the small spoon so I baby him and rub down his back and up into his scalp. The mating bond compelling me to make sure he’s okay and loved.
I start recalling the night for him. Apparently after that eighth shot he completely blacked out. He doesn’t remember a single thing from last night past that point. He grumbles and hides his face in my neck. His words coming out muffled.
“I’m so sorry. I hate not being in control like that. I’m sorry for treating you like that.” He says while pressing kisses on my neck and he squeezes me even tighter.
“It’s okay, you’ve taken care of me plenty of times when I’m drunk. I’m glad you were having fun and it was really sweet of you to defend my honor and our bond even if it was me. I love you so much for it.” I tell him making sure his eyes were on me. I cradled his face, caressing the scars and stubble that reside there. He leans down to give me soft kiss once, twice, three times before he nuzzles his nose against mine.
Azriel may be hard to read, stoic, and cold to everyone else but here, in the privacy and intimacy of our home he’s lovable and soft. A privilege to be able to see this of side. The decades of trust and memories helping him become a more loving person.
“How are you feeling though?” I ask him, he groans and lays his head down.
“I feel like absolute death. Actually death would be more merciful than what I’m feeling now.” My mate, the dramatic. I go to move to make him some tea and a light meal for his tummy but he just holds me tighter.
“Just stay for a little longer, I finally feel better now that I’m with you.”
Who am I to resist and say no? So I settle in and relishbeing with my mate and husband. Enjoying a quiet morning after such a loud night.
#azriel acosf#azriel fluff#azriel imagines#acotar funny#acotar#azriel x reader#azriel being drunk#inner circle#azriel acotar
519 notes
·
View notes
Text
Meadow's Lullaby
Requests: Yes!
Pairing: Sejanus Plinth x fem!reader, onesided Coriolanus x reader, platonic Lucy Gray x reader
Warnings: none, this is a fluffy one....for now :)
Word count: 1.3K
The Valley Song Series: Part 1 <- -> Part 3
Author's Note: You guys are literally so amazing??? Thank you so much for showing your love for The Valley Song. I came up with this idea and direction so hopefully you all enjoy it. Thank you, lovies! Also once again, because I love Maiah Wynne, the music below is what the reader plays :)) Also this was just so much fun to write
You were a lot shyer than Lucy Gray. That was one of the first things that came to Coriolanus' mind as he watched Lucy Gray pull you over as the performance ended for the night. Maude Ivory had taken your old wooden guitar from you as the rest of the Covey put their instruments away and gathered all the donations from around the Hob.
Your shy and bashful nature had intrigued Coriolanus greatly, but it had with Sejanus as well. He could tell so as his...friend's face got more pink in his cheeks as you neared. A curiosity in his eyes as you neared.
"Y/N, It is finally time for you to meet my boy, Coriolanus Snow. And this is his fine friend, Sejanus," Lucy Gray had introduced them. Her boy, he thought to himself with great distaste. Coriolanus did not belong to anyone, and his little songbird counted. He was not one to be owned. He owned others.
"Y/N here is my older cousin. Just by a year though so it ain't nothing fancy." Lucy Gray said with a laugh, causing you to shyly roll your eyes at your cousin's words. It was clear this wasn't the first time this was brought up in any sort of conversation.
"A pleasure to meet you, Y/N" Coriolanus said with a charming smile and a nod as Lucy Gray let go of her cousin's hand and moved to step beside Coryo, her arm going around his waist.
You gave him a bit of a shy smile as you gave him a nod, "The pleasure is all mine, Coriolanus. I cannot thank you enough for bringing my cousin back to us. I owe you," you chuckled. And even your chuckle was like soft wind chimes; soft.
Sejanus could not help but look to you in some sort of admiration. Even by the look in your eyes, you were gentle kind, and compassionate. Even after all you had been through with losing your family, singing for your dinners, almost losing your cousin...you were still kind. Almost like him.
Your eyes moved to look at him and you could feel your face heating up. He was beautiful. Almost too beautiful, especially to be somewhere like here in District Twelve. You couldn't help but wonder what he had done to be sent there.
"Pleasure to meet you Sejanus.." You say after a moment of almost staring at each other, realizing the silence may have gone on for a little bit too long. In the corner of your eye, you see your cousin smirking at you, glancing up at Coryo as if she had planned this sort of meeting all along.
"Trust me....the pleasure is all mine. You were uh...you were amazing up there by the way," Sejanus said nervously, though the smile stayed on his face.
The bashful smile returned to your lips at his almost too-kind words. "Why thank you. I don't sing on my own very often so I'm pleased you enjoyed it,"
Lucy Gray grinned before remembering. "Oh! I almost forgot. The Covey, we're all making a trip out tomorrow. You both should join us!" she offered.
Coriolanus and Sejanus both shared a look. They both had nothing else to do. So after a moment of sharing a look, Coriolanus smiled slightly and nodded, "We'd love to,"
Lucy Gray almost squealed with excitement, "Oh perfect. You boys are going to love it. Coryo, come by our house by mornin', alright? We'll see you both tomorrow," she said with a grin, taking your hand and rushing back towards the rest of the covey.
You turned and gave them both one last wave and smile before being pulled backstage, leaving the two boys in almost awe: Sejanus being more obvious.
"I can't wait for tomorrow," Sejanus sighed.
When tomorrow finally came, the two boys made it to the small Covey home on the edge of the Seam. And by an hour after sunrise, you all started the hike up to the lake. You lingered behind talking with Barb Azure, listening to Maude Ivory singing and Lucy speaking with Coryo. Halfway through you lingered back, falling back in step with Sejanus.
After hours of hiking, you all made it to the lake and set your things down. The heat was seemingly unbearable, and many of the covey found their way to the lake, aching to cool off their skin with the cold water.
You decided to join them later. Moving to settle under one of the nearby trees, you fixed your old dress before pulling your guitar onto your lap. Your delicate fingers started to string along to the song that Lucy Gray would sing whenever anyone had any nightmares.
As you played you failed to see Sejanus, who was about to join the others in the water before spotting you on your own. He didn't think twice before he made his way over to you, taking a seat a little next to you.
You looked up in surprise, pausing the strumming of the delicate cords. "Sejanus. Sorry, I didn't hear you coming," you add with a smile, flattered and almost happy that out of everything, he wanted to come and sit with you.
"Well I saw you were on your own, figured you could use some company," he used as an excuse, feeling his face warm; though with the heat of the day, it was hard to tell the difference. "What were you playing? I sounded pretty," he then asked.
"Oh, it was just some music I wrote for one of Lucy Gray's songs. She calls it Deep in the Meadow. She usually sings it when Maude Ivory has a nightmare or trouble sleeping. I figured I could add some music to help," you explain, looking at him, flushing as you realize that he never once had taken his eyes off you.
And how beautiful his eyes were. You could see the kindness and admiration, they were captivating and warm. And it all caused a fluttering within your stomach.
"You wrote that all yourself?" He asked in amazement, and as you nodded he gave a small whistle, "That is incredible....could you play something else you wrote?" he asked hopefully before he quickly added in what seemed to be panic, "Of course, you don't have to if you don't want to, I just...your playing is beautiful.."
His words made you grow flustered, but you gave out a small laugh. Something about him allowed you to feel comfortable where you had never felt comfortable before. There were very few people outside the covey that you would do this with, Sejanus may have just been the quickest that you allowed.
"No...no, I don't mind," you quickly reassured him before playing another song you had written, leaving the capital boy silent as he admired the music you had created.
As you both were having your moment, playing him your music, neither of you was aware of the pale eyes that were watching from the water. Coriolanus felt his jaw clench at the sight of them, how Sejanus was able to chat you up about whatever it was.
What were you both talking about? He hated that he didn't know, that he wasn't in the loop, that he couldn't control whatever it was that came from Sejanus' mouth.
Lucy Gray gently climbing onto his back, wrapping her arms around him to keep afloat snapped him out of his thoughts.
"I think they'd make a mighty fine couple, wouldn't you say?" she asked, rather pleased with her match-making skills. Coriolanus on the other hand, wasn't as pleased. But regardless he nodded.
"Hm. She seems a fine match for Sejanus." A fine match was the nicest thing he could come up with as he stared at the few figures underneath the tree.
A fine match with Sejanus would be enough for you now, but he wondered how fine it would be when trouble would eventually find its way back around.
#onlybeeewrites#x reader#reader insert#x fem!reader#hunger games imagine#coriolanus snow x reader#cute imagine#coriolanus x reader#coriolanus snow#lucy gray baird#lucy gray x reader#sejanus plinth#sejanus plinth x reader#sejanus x fem!reader#sejanus x reader#the ballad of songbirds and snakes#tbosbas#tbosas imagine#requests open#open requests
495 notes
·
View notes
Last Seen Blogs
ipupost
Sem título
robbiestingle
my tingle factor
katsigian
ᴛʜᴇ ɢᴏʟᴅᴇɴ ᴇʏᴇꜱ ᴏꜰ ᴀ ꜱᴀɪɴᴛ
kikifeliz
kiki feliz
sxf-rarepairweek
SxF - Rare Pair Week