#new year same shit same comfort media

[eroselless]

LAY UR HANDS ON ME

Summary: You and Lando have been friends for years, dancing around your feelings and avoiding the tension between the two of you. What happens when there's only one spot left in the car? [1.7k]

[lando norris x reader ]

MASTERLIST | Part 2 - I LIKE THE WAY YOU KISS ME

Warnings: 18+ for explicit language and smut, sorta dry humping, light fingering and cursing. If there's any I missed let me know!

Note: as the poets say, i’m a slut for Lando <3 

I was inspired by this tik tok and this fic by uluvjay

Anywaaays, let me know if I should do a part twooo

Lando's eyes can't help but wander over your figure as you sit next to him at dinner. His gaze traces the curves of your body accentuated by the dress you mentioned to him just the week before. The fabric clings to your body in all the right places, exuding an allure that is both captivating and refined. He notices how the colour of the fabric makes your eyes look brighter and emphasizes the features of your body that he always finds himself drawn to. You look completely at ease in your chair, a half-empty glass of wine dangling casually from your fingertips.

He's pulled from his thoughts by a voice across the table. "What's the plan?" Carlos inquires, his hands clasped together in front of him as he gazes out at Lando. He blinks, processing what his ex-teammate just asked him. He hesitates for a second.

"I think I'm ready to head back to the hotel," he replies, meeting your eyes briefly for confirmation. You nod in agreement, your silent support bolstering his decision. A chorus of voices clamours at you, George, Alex, and Pierre opting to go out for a few more drinks and dancing. You shake your head, swirling the glass in your fingers.

"I think I'll head back too," you say, setting the glass down with a decisive clink. Max nods in agreement, Pietra clinging to his arm as they prepare to leave as well. You all begin to file out, congregating in the foyer of the restaurant for some quick goodbyes.

Lily wraps her arms around you in a farewell embrace, a pout evident on her face as she whispers promises of future hangouts before hurrying to rejoin her awaiting boyfriend. Alex gives you a wave from afar, a gentle smile playing at the corner of his lips, and they join the rest of the group as they make their way towards their car.

You walk out, trailing close behind Lando. Your hand is tucked into the pocket of his blazer jacket, a silent yet comforting gesture that keeps you near him. The air is filled with conversations as you make your way to the car that awaits you. Everyone begins to pile into it, Max taking his place behind the wheel with Pietra by his side while Carlos sits in the back with Charles.

"Oh, shit—" you hear Lando mutter suddenly as he scans the remaining space. There's only one spot left in the car, next to Carlos. With a slight grimace, you watch as he waves his hand in the air as if to say, no mind that. Lando takes his place next to his friend, ushering you into the car as well. Your eyebrows furrow together as he gestures for you to climb in his lap.

You hesitantly sit down, pulling the door closed behind you. You had always been rather close to Lando, even going past the confines of friendship, blurring the lines. You'd always be stealing his clothes, his t-shirt, sweatpants, sweaters. He'd always find comfort in your body heat, curling up at your side to sleep or have a cuddle. You were essentially attached at the hip.

You'd grown accustomed to the flashes of cameras and the photos circling online on social media. Often, people would question if you were dating, but the answer would always remain the same—no. Not that either of you didn't want to, but you'd been friends for a few years, and Lando intended to keep you by his side as long as he could. He prioritized your bond over potentially complicating things by introducing romance to the mix.

This feels like entirely new territory, sitting in his lap with his hands hovering above your thighs, the faint scent of your perfume teasing his senses as you settle in. He can't help but feel a flutter of excitement surge through him. If you leaned back, he feared you'd be able to feel the erratic rhythm of his heartbeat underneath the layers of muscle that encase his chest.

As you lean forward to grasp the seat in front of you, Lando can feel his breath catch in his throat as he becomes hyper-fixated on your movements. He can't help but bite his lip as a flush rises to his cheeks, struggling to take his eyes away from where your figure is nestled in his lap. The softness of your touch sears through him.

His eyes dart nervously to Carlos, hoping to find some reprieve from the intense feelings brewing in him. The Spaniard raises an eyebrow at him in silent amusement, a smirk playing on his lips before turning back to Charles and resuming their conversation. With a gentle shake of his head, Lando tears his gaze away, opting to watch the lights go by outside.

He watches as the pavement gradually gives way to rougher terrain beneath the car’s tires, signaling the road to their hotel nestled on the outskirts of the city. Max turns the music up, trying to muffle the crunch of the wheels on the gravel. The transition is palpable, the rumbling of the road sending vibrations through the vehicle. Your position suddenly feels uncomfortable and you begin to shift in your spot, momentarily forgetting that he can feel your every move.

A sudden bump jostles you from your spot and you can feel Lando’s hands tighten slightly over your skin. You try your best to stay still, only shifting again when the car goes over another bump. A whispered plea cuts through the tense air, sending a tingle down your spine.

“Please stop moving.” he murmurs, voice strained. The heat that spreads through you only intensifies as you feel his grip on you tighten, your hands clenching onto Pietra’s seat in response.

“Sorry,” you whisper back, trying to sound as sincere as you can, to sound like you weren’t thinking about how hard he was beginning to feel under you. Lando’s fingers press harder into your thighs. The bumps keep coming and you struggle to keep from moving. The air around you feels as if it's getting hotter as you continue to move against him. Next to you, Carlos and Charles are dozed off, completely unaware of the tension rising just next to them.

You can feel Lando breathing down your back, having placed his forehead at the nape of your neck. It sends a shiver down your spine, right to your core. He’s breathing in your scent, burying his nose in your skin. His breath is coming out in broken fragments as he struggles to keep it under control. His fingers are now fanned out on your thighs, just inches from the hem of your dress. He’s almost tempted to slip his fingers under it. He bites down on his lip, a futile attempt to hide how much he’s enjoying the moment. The bumps in the road continue to make his heart pound, freezing his hands in place.

Desperate for some relief, he tries to lean back into the seat. The ache building in his cock is almost unbearable. He pushes his hips forward, inadvertently bucking them up and now it's your turn to try to keep quiet. You feel yourself hang off of the seat in front of you, back arching slightly.

His gaze is now trained on the curve of your ass in his lap and he can't help the sigh that falls from his lips. He so badly wants to surrender himself to the allure of the moment, so many years of yearning for you building up to this very night. 

You reach a hand down to grab one of his, intertwining your fingers in a silent plea for more. You feel as if you are skating on thin ice as you encourage his hand to move under your dress. A gasp threatens to make its way past your lips as he follows your lead and dips a hand between your legs. Pushing your knees out ever so slightly, his fingers delve deeper, and you find yourself teetering toward the edge of ecstasy.

You both begin to shift in time, the pad of his thumb just barely pressing into the button of your clit and your ass rubbing perfectly against his cock. With each subtle movement, your senses ignite, the friction sending waves of pleasure rippling through the both of you.

“Oh god…” Lando’s voice is a mere whisper, hardly reaching your ears over the hum of the car and pounding of the music. His fingers move in slow circles, you feel as if the pleasure could consume you whole. With every flicker, your teeth dig harder into your lip, and you swear you could draw blood.

You can see the hotel lights from here, light seeping into the car. Panic sets in as you freeze in the seat, hands and hips coming to a complete halt. You can feel Lando shaking underneath you, his cheeks a bright pink. His chest is heaving as he tries to take shallow and quiet breaths. You each try to compose yourselves and you lean back in his lap, pulling his hands out from the fabric of your dress.

The tension in the air is palpable as the car comes to a stop, Max putting it in park and announcing to the sleeping men that you’ve arrived. You bite your lip at the innuendo that goes over everyone’s heads. Not quite, Max.

Lando’s hands take their spot on your thighs again, just as they were at the beginning of the ride. They stick slightly to your exposed skin, a testament to the desire that simmers between the two of you. You can see them twitch as if they’re still itching for more. He smiles weakly at you as you step out of the car, blaming the tight confines of the car for your flushed cheeks.

You don't miss how he gingerly sticks the pads of his fingers in his mouth or how he shoves his hands into his pockets, adjusting his pants as he does so. You blink away the last of the haze in your eyes as you quickly and quietly follow him up to your shared hotel room.

#lando norris imagine #lando norris x reader #lando norris fanfic #lando norris #lando norris smut

[f1byjessie]

A PICTURE IS WORTH A THOUSAND WORDS ━━ LN4.

sometimes the right words are hard to come across, and sometimes everything you need to say can be captured in an image.

( lando norris x photographer!reader )

━━ part two.

Friday evenings are typically spent in the comfort of your flat. Normally, you’re half paying attention to reruns of whatever shitty reality TV happens to be on and half scrolling through social media to keep up with the ever-fluctuating trends of content as per your job requirements, all the while eating your body’s weight in takeaway. It’s not the dream, but it’s certainly a dream.

Tonight, you plan on amending things to include going through the pictures of Bali’s stunning beaches that Lando’s been spamming you with throughout the day, but beyond that, you have no intentions of deviating further from your norm.

You’re actually really looking forward to it. Though you’d rather cut off your own hand than admit it to his face and give him new ammunitions to tease you with, you miss Lando during the winter breaks. So much of your year is spent having him nearby━ a near-constant presence buzzing with the inability to slow down let alone stop━ and when he isn’t around, the silence seems louder. There’s no one else who manages to annoy you the way he does, and it’s just not the same without him.

To make matters worse, between your new job, Lando’s travels, and the scheduling conflicts that have arisen in turn, you haven’t had a chance to catch up with him beyond a few back-and-forth messages about his current escapades. So you really, genuinely, truly are looking forward to it.

Garrett Ward throws a wrench into things.

You have mixed opinions of Garrett. He can be very sweet, and he’s gone out of his way to make you feel incredibly welcome in your first week with the Manchester City team. He makes good conversation and seems genuinely interested in what it is you’re doing, often asking questions about your equipment and process, which is a nice change of pace from most other clients you’ve worked with in the past who rarely give two shits about anything beyond the final product. But his reputation is… concerning.

Garrett Ward is infamous in English tabloids for being a notorious womanizer.

There are several articles that come to mind, but the most damning of which is from 2019, before his trade to Manchester City, detailing with very incriminating photos how he’d been seen entering a club with two women and then leaving just a few hours later with a completely different pair. You don’t want to assume he’s the same man now as he was back then, nearly a full five years ago, but you’ve been working in the sports industry long enough to know that athletes can have anyone and if they want then they will have anyone━ there is no shortage of temptation.

And you are not arrogant enough to assume you would be the outlier.

Which makes his interest in you feel less like friendly curiosity and more like something you need to be wary of.

It’s also why━ as you make the trek through the Etihad Campus car park━ you feel dread begin to pool in your stomach as you answer your ringing phone. “Hi, Garrett.”

“Y/N!” He exclaims excitedly, sounding like he hadn’t just seen you barely ten minutes ago in the weight room. “I meant to catch you before you left, but you were outta there so fast I wasn’t able to.”

And there’s probably a reason for that, you want to say, but you hold your tongue. “Yeah, I usually try to be pretty quick about it.”

There’s an awkward pause left open as if he expects you to say more, and when you don’t he clears his throat. “Erm, well, I was actually just calling to see if, perhaps, you would like to grab dinner with me this evening.”

You don’t. At all. It’s one of the last things you would like to do. There are plenty of other hellish things you would willingly rather subject yourself to before sitting down and sharing a private meal with this man━ jumping into the Thames is one of them, and letting Lando drive you around on the autobahn in his Spider is another. Both could very easily result in death, permanent disfigurement, or any other number of horrible outcomes, but neither includes Garrett.

Your hesitating silence must be an answer enough for him, because he chuckles again and adds on quickly, “No strings attached, I promise. It’ll just be two friends getting dinner.”

All you want to do is get cozy on your couch in your pajamas with a kebab from the place down the street and watch pretty people deal with their pretty people problems on TV. You don’t think that’s too much to ask for, but apparently, some higher power does.

“I suppose that’d be alright then,” you agree tentatively, speeding through the stages of grief as you mourn the initial plans of your Friday evening━ the easy, simple, comfortable plans. “Shoot me a message with the time and place and I’ll meet you there.”

“Awesome!” Garrett cheers. “See you later then.”

The peaceful silence that awaits you after you hang up feels like it’s mocking you. Too bad you can’t flip off silence.

“Look, the truth is, City is looking at trading me at the end of the season if I can’t clean my act up.” Garrett’s voice is quiet as he admits the reality of his future to you, but it breaks the silence of the world around you like a gunshot. “And not just loaning me out━” he adds, a twinge of something akin to anger noting his tone, “━but fully trading me. They’re saying that my image makes things too hard for them and the only way they’ll consider re-signing me is if I can either keep my name out of the tabloids or try to clean myself up.”

In Garrett’s defense, he technically did hold true to his promise of just two friends getting dinner. Things were actually going quite well, too. The restaurant was a little more high profile than you would’ve expected for a casual meal, but that can easily be passed off as the luxurious lifestyle and expensive tastes of a pro athlete who can certainly afford it. Expenses of your meal aside, he’d been good company, asking after the ways of working in Formula One and then finding similarities in his football career that made it easy to chat about the struggles and stressors of professional sports.

But you can recognize that this is where it’s all beginning to go downhill.

He’s announced it completely out of the blue as you’re walking back to the garage where you’ve both parked your cars. On top of that, his pace slows and you’re forced to slow down as well to match it until you both eventually come to a halt in the middle of the pavement.

You feel for him, in all honesty. You understand the difficulties of contract negotiations and how easily they can fall apart. The fragility of Formula One contracts is its own special brand of tricky and you’ve seen many friends move on to other teams in the blink of an eye just as they’ve begun to settle down and make their mark where they are. You can’t say for certainty that you understand the mechanics of football contracts to the same degree, but you can imagine they have their own fragile fine print.

But the chill of a January night in Manchester is brutal, and you’ll be the first to admit that your outfit does not protect against it. You don’t really want to be having this conversation in general, because you’ve known Garrett for all of a week which makes you acquaintances at best, but you especially don’t want to be having it now, out here in the cold when all you want to do━ all you’ve wanted to do since this afternoon━ is curl up in something warm and comfortable and pretend the world outside your flat doesn’t exist for a few days.

“I’m not sure what this has to do with me if I’m being honest, Garrett.”

He shrugs. “I just thought you might be able to help.”

You shove your hands in your pockets in a desperate attempt to keep your fingers from going more numb than they already are and shake your head at him. “I don’t know how exactly you think I can help you with that. I’m a photographer, not a PR officer.”

“My agent thinks it would be a good idea if I showed the media that I could hold down a steady relationship. Prove to them that I’ve changed my ways, and have matured.” He shrugs again, nonchalant despite being the one to bring this up in the first place.

“Have you?”

He makes a face, something between a flirty smirk and a suggestive wink, “Well, I don’t kiss and tell.”

“Garrett.”

“Look,” he crosses his arms and levels you with a look that fills you simultaneously with more rage and annoyance than a single person has ever made you feel before. “It would just be for a couple of months, and then we could stage an amicable breakup and that would be that! It just has to be long enough to show everyone that I’m not the same as I used to be.”

You give him a look right back, hoping it conveys how appalled you are by his audacity. “Okay, but why me of all people? Christ knows you probably have a list of women in your contacts who would jump at the chance to pretend to date you for a few months.”

His face pinches up in disgust. “Yeah, but they’re all former hookups, and I mean, they’re kinda psycho about me to be fair. If I tried to end things, they’d probably go to the tabloids themselves and smear my name with the worst things they could come up with.” He shrugs again, and you’re starting to find that you hate it when he does so. “I need someone willing to just play along for the time being and who will be discreet when things are over.”

“And you think I’m that person?” You scoff. “You’ve known me for a week!”

Your voice echoes and it reminds you once again that you’re having this conversation in the middle of a random street in Manchester. It’s cold and dark, and you’ve been attempting to bite back your frustration since the moment Garrett called you. You’ve been as nice as you possibly can be for this man, shy of bending over backward to worship the very ground he walks on, and you’re so close to your limit that you think if he shrugs one more fucking time━

He shrugs. “Well, yeah, but you know how this industry works. So I know you can be trusted.”

You take a deep breath to try and retain what’s left of your quickly slipping composure, before you say, “Garrett, this goes beyond unprofessional. I could potentially get into a lot of trouble for this. You’re technically my co-worker, if not my client by proxy. It’s not a good look for me to be getting with the athletes I work with, considering my entire career is based on working with athletes.”

He makes a befuddled face as if asking what that has to do with anything. It occurs to you that he’s probably never had to worry about the ethics of hooking up with someone when most of the women who are interested in him would do everything in their power to spend a night by his side whether it’s morally just━ or legal, for that matter━ or not.

“That doesn’t seem to stop you from being all cozy with that Nor-whatever guy,” he grumbles.

“What?”

“That driver,” he repeats. “You post him all over your socials, like, all the time.”

You tear your hands from your pockets and throw them up in the air, “Because that’s my job?!” The stupidity of the man before you is genuinely baffling. He’s been asking about your job all week long but the way he’s talking now makes it seem like he didn’t catch onto the fact that your entire career is centered around media and the creation of content made with the explicit intention of being shared.

“I am quite literally paid to take and post pictures of him per my contract with McLaren,” you continue. “And even if I wasn’t, he’s my best friend?! I’ve been working and traveling and spending the majority of my time with Lando since 2019 so of course I’m going to be close with him. Do you not post your mates every once in a while?”

“Yeah, but it’s different. All my mates are guys, so nobody thinks I’m dating any of them when I do it.”

You scoff in disbelief. “I cannot believe this right now. You know, for a moment, I briefly considered helping you. But you’re actually exactly the type of prick the tabloids say you are.”

He takes an intimidating step closer, and his voice drops an octave lower. “I would reconsider if I was you.” You’re not short, but Garrett isn’t either. He’s one of the tallest players on the Manchester City team, and the way you feel now with him staring you down makes you wonder if this is what it feels like to be his opponent on the pitch.

It’s fucking terrifying.

But you’re fucking livid, too.

Your jaw clenches and you bite out sharply, “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

“What it means,” he starts, “is that if you don’t help me, maybe I slip a word about something or other to my boss who slips a word to his boss who is, also, your boss, and suddenly, whoops!” He gives you a cocky smirk, so sure of himself that it makes you feel like your blood is literally boiling. “He’s not your boss anymore. In fact, nobody is your boss anymore, because your ‘slip in conduct’ was very inappropriate and made several players uncomfortable, which doesn’t look very good when trying to get jobs elsewhere in the industry.”

“Are you threatening me?”

“Well,” he fucking shrugs. “When you say it like that, yeah. I guess I am.”

You cross your arms, your hands clenched into fists so tightly that you can feel your nails digging painfully into the flesh of your palms. “You’re a real bastard, you know.”

“You’re not the first person to tell me that, love.”

If only it were legal to kill a man━ Garrett Ward would be six feet under and picking worms from between his teeth.

You weigh your options, though. You’re not sure how much weight his word actually carries. For all you know, he could tell his boss, they could bring you in to discuss things, and then you could explain it all from your point of view. Garrett is a notorious flirt and you doubt it’s the first time he’s tried to pursue someone who isn’t interested in him. You doubt it happens very often, but it has to have happened at some point. Not to mention, his reputation regarding women is bad enough that Manchester City is already giving him an ultimatum, so you probably have a chance, and the worst-case scenario is that you amicably part ways with the team and that’s that.

But realistically there is a worse worst-case scenario, and it’s pretty damn close to what Garrett is threatening. Losing this side gig wouldn’t really be too much trouble. It would put a dent in your savings, and you’d have to be a bit better about how you ration out your groceries and other necessities around the flat, but losing your job at McLaren? Being blacklisted from the industry entirely? That’s life-destroying. You would lose everything━ all the blood, sweat, and tears you shed to get where you are would be for nothing.

All because of a prick in sky blue.

“Fine,” you utter from between gritted teeth. “I’ll help you. But I won’t post you on my account. I won’t bring you home to my parents. I won’t go round to your flat and I certainly will not have you round to mind. You get one kiss to make it official to the paps, and then nothing more.” You take your own threatening step toward him, and a vindictive part inside you shines with malicious glee when he shifts ever so slightly backward. “If you try anything else, I will run to the papers and drag you through the mud worse than any of your little psycho groupies ever could.”

He scoffs, “You’d ruin your career.”

“But I’d tear you down with me,” you reply.

He takes a moment to think, staring into your eyes and weighing how serious you are. Whatever he sees staring back at him must be convincing enough because he sniffs, nods, and smirks.

“Deal.” He leans down, “I think I’ll be taking that kiss now. Make sure to really sell it, yeah?”

━━ tags: @maih23 @urfavnoirette @leclercsluv @f1luvur @formulaal @a-disturbing-self-reflection @starlightpierre

━━ a/n: i feel like i say this every time, but i am seriously blown away by how well the first part of this was received! like, seriously, thank you so much for the kind words everyone said about it! hopefully this second part lives up to the hype of the first, it's a little denser, but the events are important to establish for the rest of the story so it needed to happen!

#formula 1 #formula one #f1 #formula 1 imagine #f1 imagine #formula one imagine #f1 x reader #formula 1 x reader #formula one x reader #f1 fanfic #f1 fic #social media au #lando norris #lando norris x reader #lando norris imagine #ln4 #oscar piastri

[marlenesluv]

۵pairing: fem!albonsibling!ballerina x platonic f1 grid. also, reader x lando norris

۵type: social media au and dialogue

۵authors note: i really love making these, so i’m excited to work on a part 3! also, i know alex has other siblings, i’m just not including them in these posts!

۵warnings: cussing, talk of blood (someone cut their finger, not bad or described much), talk of ballet darks: not eating as much, rude teachers, mean comments.

۵summary: after y/n albon lost her ballet partner, lando comes over to comfort her. but she of course still has a lot of practice before swan lake in two months.

۵this is part 3! please read part 1 and part 2 before this. (part 1 is mine, j on my main blog)

masterlist here -> masterlist link

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

You were devastated to lose your partner, Ben, but all good things must come to an end, apparently. That’s what Lily had told you, at least.

Ben was an amazing dancer, he was, but your ballet instructor has wanted you to do solos for years now. Saying you had “too much potential to waste” and “you’re too talented to be focusing on another person when the show is about you.” Of course this was very nice, but Ben wasn’t only your ballet partner, but a friend.

The two of you went to the movies together, got coffee before practice, dinner after, it was nice. And you were happy that he had found a girl for him. You just didn’t expect for her to make him quit ballet.

That’s right, not a sport he had outgrown or gotten bored of. No no. Destiny was not a fan of the fact that he spent all of his time in the studio. Understandable, but dating a ballet dancer, that is a given. It was a shame that Ben had thrown all of his hard work away for a girl.

But here you were, unlocking your apartment door as Lando Norris walked in with a bag of Indian food and an extra hoodie on his shoulder.

“Hey! I got you some butter chicken and some paneer naan for us to share. Oh, and…” he pulled out two bottles of mango juice and handed them to you as you placed them on your island. “If I remembered correctly, you like mango juice?”

“Mhmm. Thank you, Lando.” you smiled up at him as he blushed a bit, clearing his throat as he sorted through the bag and you got out silverware.

“Wanna watch a show?” you asked, as you sat down beside him on your sofa, opening your juice.

“Yeah. How about ‘Brooklyn 99’?”

You nodded, opening Peacock and starting an episode as you both started eating and talking.

Talking with Lando was easy. When you ranted about how your ballet instructor stretched your arm too far backwards, he listened, only butting in to make sure you knew he was paying attention.

And when he ranted about how Checo pushed him off the track, and didn’t get penalized, you listened, you only butted in to gasp and ask the occasional question about how something worked.

You didn’t feel like he was judging you, and it was nice. Lando felt the same. You were someone that understood Formula 1 to a certain degree, since Alex talked about it, but you still asked questions, not just discounting what he was saying. Sure, Oscar wouldn’t mind listening to him blab on about shit, but Oscar wasn’t you.

And yes, you could talk to Lily, Kika, Kelly, Laila, or Carmen, but they weren’t Lando.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

yourinstagram

liked by landonorris, pierregasly, and 872,024 others

y/n.albon: i am so good at chess ♟️

view comments…

user3: lando and y/n??

alex_albon: you guys are hanging out alone now??

↳ y/n.albon: i guess, yeah

↳ alex_albon: wtf!?

↳ alex_albon: y/n answer my texts what are you doing????

user5: y/n just not answering alex LMAOO

user8: i live for this duo, they are so precious to me

lilymhe: the shoesss🥹

↳ y/n.albon: ikkk🥹🩷

user7: new ship, guys. ballerina and f1 driver 🫠

user2: she’s slaying without ben, fr

kellypiquet: adorable!

*liked by creator*

user4: okay. can they date?? orrrr

↳ user9: literallyyyy

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

landosinstagram

liked by y/n.albon, oscarpiastri, and 602,140 others

landonorris: 📷🩰💇‍♂️

view comments…

user1: BRO?

y/n.albon: gotta get those stretches in👯‍♀️

↳ landonorris: oh yeah🩰🙆‍♂️

user7: anyone notice how much y/n and lando have been hanging out….?

↳ user4: mhmmm. i ship

↳ user7: SAME

alex_albon: ahem, what is the second picture?

↳ y/n.user: me….alex, you’re my brother and you don’t know what i look like? shame shame

↳ alex_albon: that’s not what i meant, y/n

↳ alex_albon: why tf are you guys both on instagram and not messaging me back??

↳ alex_albon: fine. i’ll j come over, y/n

↳ y/n.albon: i’m taking my key back.

user9: little sibling fights in landos comments 😭

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

Alex Albon always kept his word. So, naturally, at 8:30pm on a Thursday night, Alex unlocked his sisters apartment door with his spare key. So what if Y/N said to only use it “for emergencies” and “if i had fallen and could not get up” which she thought was hilarious, whilst he just clenched hi jaw at the thought of her falling and hurting herself.

He was definitely on the protective side, but for good reasons. All of her past boyfriends, there were two, had cheated on her. Yeah, he didn’t love how close his sister was to Lando Norris, but at least he liked Lando. Not enough to be okay with their hanging out though. But Alex trusted Lando enough to not freak out too much.

When Alex walked into his sisters apartment, he couldn’t find her anywhere. The kitchen was spotless. Marble countertops cleaned off, fridge stocked up, floor vacuumed. He should have known that was the case before he walked in.

Every Wednesday and Sunday, Y/N cleaned her apartment. It was something she had control over. She didn’t have control over what she ate, her ballet instructor did. She didn’t have control over her spare time, it was spent at the studio. Alex felt bad sometimes, she had dedicated her life since she was five to ballet.

Sure, Alex had dedicated his life to Formula 1 as well, but he knew ballet was more draining. He’d seen the breakdowns first hand. Y/N coming to his house after practice and crying in his arms because she didn’t get a part. Or when she had called Alex ten times and then Lily because she needed new ballet shoes and her instructor wanted them now.

And he would never forget the times that her instructor would tell her to not eat as much, and that she needed to slim down. She would come over for dinner with him and Lily, and drink her water and maybe some vegetables.

It always made Lily mad. She hated how Y/N was treated, they both did. They also both knew how much ballet meant to Y/N, so they never told her to quit.

“Alex?” Alex whipped his head around to see his sister in her ballet leggings, a sweater, and boots.

Y/N sat her ballet bag on the barstool and emptied her water bottle out as she looked at Alex. “Dude? What are you doing in my house?”

“Oh, u-um. I was checking on you. Forgot you had to go in today. Sorry.” He blinked, looking at her tight bun on her head. “Hey, shouldn’t you take that out before your head pops off?”

“So funny, ha-ha.” Y/N mocked, getting out some fruit. “Did you need something? Or did you wanna stay?”

“Sorry, right. Lily wants you to come over for dinner tomorrow.”

“Just Lily?” Y/N raised a brow as she plopped a strawberry into her mouth and chewed.

“No, dumbass. I want you to, too. Bring someone ever too, if you want.” Alex shrugged, accepting the strawberry his sister offered him.

“Mmk. Like who?….Lando?”

“I don’t care. If you want to.” he chewed the berry as she grabbed two waters from her fridge and handed one to Alex.

“Alright. Thanks. That it?” she asked, sighing.

Alex knew she wasn’t trying to be rude. She wanted to be alone, he understood. She had been at the studio since 8:00am, she was tired and wanted to sleep.

“Nope, that’s it. See you tomorrow?” Alex walked to the door, Y/N behind him.

“Yup. Love you, Alex. I’ll see ya.”

“Love you too. See ya tomorrow.” Alex shut the door behind him and walked to the elevator, pushing his thoughts away that maybe his sister was dating Lando.

He shook his head and sent a text to Lily to let him know that he was on his way home. Tomorrow night would be interesting.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

twitter:

F1 Updates @f1updatepage • 2hr

Our beloved Y/N Albon has been spotted on a boat with Lando Norris. The photo below was taken last week:

↳ Y/N my Icon! @y/n4lifeeee • 1hr

WHAT- i knew they were hanging out, butttt why am i shipping them so hard rn????

↳ Piasstri🍑 @oscandlan • 1hr

idk if i want to be y/n or if i want to be with y/n

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

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y/n.albon: pinky 🌸🩰🎀👛

view comments…

user9: SLAY PINK QUEEN

user4: fits always eat

lailahasanovic: cutieeeee

↳ y/n.albon: awe laila🩷

user6: no lando pics?? :(

↳ user2: im sure we will soon lol

danielricciardo: shes working💅🩰

↳ y/n.albon: yuh

f1wags: y/n’s life is sooo aesthetic fr

y/nballetstudio: our favvvv

*liked by creator*

user3: my literal inspo, ugh

landonorris: coffee coffee coffee

↳ y/n.user: thx for the coffee coffee coffee

↳ user1: hold up. he made her that coffee??????

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

You were nervous for dinner with Lily and Alex on Friday night. Actually, the dinner that was currently 3 hours away.

And yes, you invited Lando. So what? You weren’t even sure if you guys were just friends, or maybe he wanted something more….

It was confusing. One day, you guys are hanging out, cuddling on your couch while talking, and the next, he doesn’t even text you.

But he happily accepted the invite. Which is why Lando was sitting on your bed, watching you apply your lipgloss at your mirror. The shiny gloss catching his eye as you smiled and asked him a question.

“Lando? You there?” you waved your hand, smiling and laughing a bit.

“What? Oh, mhmm. Yeah. I heard you.” he shook his head, hoping you would repeat what you had said.

“You do think that we should get sushi next week for lunch?” you questioned, tilting your head to the side and smirking.

“Y/N, no. Don’t joke like that. You don’t even like sushi!” Lando whined, making you laugh.

“I know, sorry. I asked if I looked okay?” you smoothed your black skirt down, pulling the sleeves of the white shirt down a bit.

Lando swallowed, clearing his throat. What was he supposed to say? You truly always looked breathtaking to him. He couldn’t say that though. “Yeah, you look great.” Lando smiled and got up from your bed.

“Ok, thanks. Let’s go?” you shook off the weird feeling you had, grabbing your purse and snapping a mirror picture while Lando got his phone off the charger.

………

Once you guys got to Alex and Lilys, everything went smoothly. Alex and Lando chatted about the cars while they prepared the salad, and you and Lily talked about her latest golf outing and your rehearsals.

That’s how it always went. Except usually Alex would rant about the cars to you and Lily at dinner. Occasionally getting a breadstick thrown at him because you found his complaining aggravating.

“I know! And get this, my engineer said-“ Alex was ranting as Lando kept glancing your way. The was you doubled over when Lily said something, or the way you bit your lip as you concentrated on the pasta. He shook his head and listened to Alex talk about his balance in the car.

“Y/N. You need to seriously open your eyes.” Lily said, looking at you with a hand on her hip.

“They are! The pasta is fine- what…why are you mom stancing me right now?” you questioned, lips parted and brows furrowed.

“Do you not see the way Lando looks at you? He’s going to chop off a finger if he keeps glancing over here and not at his carrots.” Lily sighed, and right on cue….

“Ow! Fuck!” Lando cursed, hissing in pain, holding his finger.

“Lando! What the fuck? You’re getting blood all over the cutting board.” Alex complained, earning a cup thrown at his head from you as you ran over to Lando.

“What did you do?!” you asked, running his finger under cold water. It wasn’t a deep cut, but he grazed his finger with the blade.

“Um…I don’t know. Just thinking about the cars, I guess.” he shrugged, thanking you for getting the bandaids from the drawer behind him and helping him wrap it.

“Alex, you’re so rude! When a guest cuts their finger, you help! Not complain about your $15 cutting board.” Lily scolded Alex, shaking her head.

Alex scoffed, “Lily, he’s fine.” The couple set the table as you guys took your seats. You and Lando on one side, and Lily and Alex across from you.

“Sorry for not helping, Lando.” Alex said, side eyeing Lily.

You giggled a bit as Lando started laughing, “mhm, it’s okay.”

Dinner went well, conversations flowed well and it was nice to talk to the people you enjoyed being around. Now id only you could figure your feelings for Lando out…

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

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.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

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#formula 1 #f1 #formula one #lando norris x you #lando norris x oc #lando norris x y/n #lando norris fluff #lando norris blurb #lando norris fic #lando norris fanfic #lando norris x reader #lando norris #f1 smau #platonic f1 grid #f1 grid x reader #ballet #ballerina!reader #ballet fic #f1 x female reader #f1 x y/n #f1 x you #f1 fluff #alex albon sister #alex albon #lilymhe #formula 1 x reader #formula 1 x you #formula 1 x y/n #formula 1 x female reader

[dilemmaontwolegs]

Used to be Young || CL16

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x singer!reader Summary: Being the life of the party isn't all it's cracked up to be but you manage to turn over a new leaf and start afresh after being dumped by your first love. Warnings: 18+ only, NSFW, mentions of drugs and alcohol, angst, hurt/comfort WC: 2.5k

A few years earlier… You barely registered the words coming out of Charles’ mouth, the arrogance of youth numbing you to what you were about to lose. You had a career that had exploded overnight, an album in the top charts, more money than you knew what to do with. How could you lose anything after everything you had achieved? You were invincible.

“It’s over, I can’t do this anymore,” Charles repeated over the loud music filling the open bar. He cast his eyes over you from the skimpy dress that left little to the imagination to your red eyes from the joint you had shared with your back up dancers. “I don’t even recognise you.”

“Where are you going?” You grabbed his hand and pulled him to a stop as you pressed your lips to his cheek. You kissed your way across his jaw before nipping his ear and laughing. “We’re just having fun! Lighten up, Charles.”

“No, you’re having fun,” he said as he peeled your fingers off his shirt. “If you want to go wild, then go wild, but I’m not going to stick around to watch this shit.”

You let him go. You watched him leave as the healing skin behind your ear began to itch with your latest tattoo. You turned away before the crowd swallowed him whole, your fingers already reaching for another shot of liquor.

Winter Break - Music Award Show Charles would recognise your voice anywhere, no matter how much time passed he could still locate it in a crowd. It was as if the frequency of your voice was one he was attuned to and it called to him when he was meant to be focusing on the interviewer before him.

It had been a year since you last toured, a year since you last released a song. Charles knew, because he still listened to your albums and watched every music video- much like how you still followed his Formula 1 career. He waited for any news about you, but the last year had been silent. Your social media was deleted, paparazzi photos few and far between but what he had seen had made his heart ache. You had changed, no longer the carefree spirit he fell in love with in a whirlwind romance swimming in alcohol and snapshot decisions.

Charles couldn’t help but wonder what you had been doing in your absence. Had you met someone like he had? Had you fallen in love and then fallen out of love like he had? He wanted to know if you were happy.

Charles was in a daze as he took his seat. His invitation to the award show had come thanks to the rising popularity of his sport mixed with his music and he scanned the crowd hoping to catch a glimpse of you. He knew you were there, he knew it with every fibre of his being, he just needed to see you.

The lights dimmed and goosebumps prickled beneath the suit he wore as your voice caressed his ear. He could have sworn you were sitting behind him, serenading him and only him, but there you were - right where you belonged.

The truth is bulletproof, there's no foolin' you I don't dress the same Me and who you say I was yesterday Have gone our separate ways

Charles could barely breathe as the soft lighting warmed your skin, setting you in a glow that was somehow both powerful and ethereal. There was no need for any theatrics when your voice was emotive enough to outperform any dancers or pyrotechnics. All you needed was a stage and a microphone.

Left my livin' fast somewhere in the past 'Cause that's for racin' cars Turns out open bars lead to broken hearts And goin' way too far

Your eyes were closed, brows pinched, as if the memory of that night hurt even now. The huge screens around the room were filled with the image and Charles swallowed the lump in his throat as regret filled him for his role in it all.

I know I used to be crazy I know I used to be fun You say I used to be wild I say I used to be young

Charles closed his eyes as they began to burn, but still your voice infiltrated his soul and reverberated with the truth.

You tell me time has done changed me That's fine, I've had a good run I know I used to be crazy That's 'causе I used to be young

Charles forced himself to watch the stranger he loved flourish before his eyes. He had seen you grow from a teenager into a young adult, thinking the flower that blossomed was the final product. Like the dandelions you had blown to the breeze and wished upon with him years ago, you had shed the petals of immaturity and become a woman commanding the wind to carry her higher.

You hated how the spotlight burned your skin and you told yourself it was the lamp that made your eyes water as you screwed them shut. 

The words you had penned on the back of a scrap of paper had come to you on a Sunday afternoon. You weren’t the religious type, but Sunday was a holy day in your house and your worship began at lights out. Words had failed you when the partying stopped. You wondered who you were without the late nights and endless faces that enabled you to lose your values, your friends, your love. You thought your music had died with your younger self. 

But on that Sunday, something had changed. On that Sunday, you saw a man at his lowest and heard the heartache in his voice. On that Sunday, you watched a man carry more burden than any shoulders could bear and somehow, somehow, he smiled. Thousands of miles away in Brazil, Charles had taught you a lesson in letting go, of hope and resilience and maturity. 

The words had come easily after that.

Take onе, pour it out, it's not worth cryin' 'bout The things you can't erase Like tattoos and regrets, words I never meant And ones that got away

You didn’t plan to open your eyes until the song was over, you didn’t want to see what the audience thought of the performance that was so unlike how you used to sound, but you did it anyway. The spotlight blinded you for a moment before your eyes adjusted and time seemed to freeze when you found Charles staring back. 

Time had changed him too, his jawline had sharpened and the suit fitted his filled out body so much better than they ever did. A pair of glasses rested on the bridge of his nose and changed his entire face so that he could never be mistaken as anything but a man who was comfortable in his own skin.

He used to say you completed him but now you knew you had only filled the piece of his heart that was missing after his father died. You couldn’t complete a boy who was still growing into a man, it was impossible when you were both too young to know what complete even meant. Complete didn’t mean whole, it was just the acceptance of who you are and forgiving who you were. 

You weren’t in some grandiose ballgown or shock-inspiring barely-there outfit, you wore what you felt comfortable in. Charles smiled, his dimple appearing as you slipped the microphone from the stand and walked to the edge of the stage. His eyes never left yours as you took a seat facing him and swung your feet in the open air, returning the smile.

I know I used to be crazy Messed up, but, God, was it fun I know I used to be wild That's 'cause I used to be young

You may have been the one singing but you heard him loud and clear when his hand rose up above his head. 

Those wasted nights are not wasted I remember every one I know I used to be crazy That's 'cause I used to be young

You heard him loud and clear when he made no move to wipe the tears on his cheeks.

You tell me time has done changed me That's fine, I've had a good run I know I used to be crazy That's 'cause I used to be young

There were no words that passed between you as you left the stage, but when he rose to his feet you heard him loud and clear.

The loud knock on your door echoed around the temporary dressing room but the voice that followed was softer. Your fingers rested on the door handle until you took a deep breath and turned it. The air left your lungs as you were struck by the image of him standing in your doorway, one hand in his trouser pocket, the other in his hair as he wondered if he was making a mistake.

Up close, he looked even more handsome but it was his cologne that took you deep into the past. The intensity of the CK bottle used to be overpowering on the senses when he would douse himself in the stuff, but now he wore a complex, rich scent that invited you to lean closer and inhale. His finer tastes had matured along with the rest of him.

“Hey,” he said as he looked into your room, taking in the details from the water bottles to the ambient sounds you relaxed to. A smile transformed his face and he stepped inside when you opened the door wider in invitation. “Is this my music?”

“It helps me to relax,” you admitted as you closed the door behind him. 

“Your song is…” he shook his head as he trailed off, like he was struggling to articulate what he wanted to say and he had to settle for something less because he couldn’t quite grasp the word, “beautiful.”

“Thank you.” You smiled shyly at your feet and fiddled with your hair that had been styled up for the red carpet walk. 

Charles’ eyes followed your hand and widened before he grabbed it. The warmth of his skin on yours was something you had never been able to replicate, there was no man or woman whose touch could come close to his. You knew because you had tried and tried before resigning yourself the hard fact that you had lost the best thing you had. 

“Is that…my number?” His fingertips turned your head to see the tattoo tucked behind your ear.

You laughed as you remembered how you were going to surprise him once it healed, but he had already gone by then. “Yeah, it is. And I don’t regret it, before you ask.”

“I’m glad.” The corners of his lips curled up as he dropped his hand back to his side. “I have so many questions, but I think they would take all night. How have you…what have you…god, I don’t even know where to start.”

“As it happens, I have no plans,” you said as you took a seat on the couch and patted the space beside you.

“No after party?”

You shook your head as he sat down and you grabbed your bottle of water from the coffee table. “That’s not my scene anymore.”

Charles draped his arm across the couch as he tucked one leg up and settled so he could face you. “What were you going to do after the show tonight then?”

“Honestly?” You chuckled at the question and picked at the label on the bottle. “I was going to go home, order a pizza and watch the new season of Drive to Survive.”

Charles bit his lip as he tried not to laugh. “Really?”

“Don’t laugh,” you feigned annoyance as you slapped his hand. “I’m missing the races so it will have to do until next month. Are you excited?”

He caught your hand before you could take it back and he traced his fingers over the splatterings of new tattoos you had collected throughout the years. “Hmm, I’m optimistic.”

“Always were,” you murmured as you let your hand relax in his. “But what about the car?”

“Why don’t you come to testing and find out?” He seemed to come to his senses as he dropped your hand. “You’re probably busy and we’re practically strangers now. Shit, you probably have a boyfriend. Do you have a boyfriend?”

“Charles, shut up,” you laughed as you caught his face in your palms and felt the texture of the short beard he now sported. “I know you too well that we could never really be strangers.”

“We’ve both changed.” His head lowered into your hands and you watched his green eyes search your face for the wild child he used to know.

“We’ve grown up, there’s a difference.”

His breath whispered across your wrists as he looked down at the distance closing between your bodies. “So do you?”

“Do I what?” 

“Have a boyfriend.”

You smiled sadly. “I could never have a boyfriend. It wouldn’t be fair when my heart always belonged to someone else.”

Charles started to lean towards you, his eyes on your lips as if he could already taste him, but you pulled away. Hurt flashed in those eyes and you wanted to erase it immediately, it took every ounce of control you had not to pull him back into a kiss. 

“We’re not strangers, Charles,” you said softly as you took his hand and tried to get him to look at you again, “but we aren’t those people any more.”

“Okay,” he nodded as he understood what went unsaid, “then we’ll get to know each other again. When did you become the sensible one?”

“After my stupidity cost me you, I suppose.”

The rest of the award show didn’t hold any interest after the conversation in your dressing room so you had both disappeared. The evening had been mild with the worst of the winter weather already passing, so you had enjoyed the quieter streets that had been closed for the night. Charles had kept you company and you both went unrecognised as you walked arm in arm to the pizzeria you promised was the best around. For a man who worked a lot of the time in Italy that was going to be tested when you got home.

It was midnight by the time you reached your apartment, the tower clock across the street tolling for the start of a new day. You would look back on that moment and realise it was then that the slate was cleaned. Whatever conversations that happened or didn’t happen were obsolete, whatever mistakes made before that moment were gone.

In the early hours on a Sunday of all days, you stepped inside your home with Charles at your side. Neither of you knew what the future held but by the same token neither of you were ready for this to be the end. After all, this was a new beginning.

#charles leclerc fanfic #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc x you #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #formula one imagine #formula 1 fanfic #formula one fanfiction #f1 rpf

[smusherina]

yard work - chapter 4 (regina george x reader)

fandom: Mean Girls (all media)

pairing: Regina George x OFC/Reader

summary: You'd been in the same class as Regina George since kindergarten. You'd lived on the same street even longer. Once upon a time, when life was sandbox disputes and who got the swing first arguments, you'd even been friends. Now, in junior year of high school, you doubted she even remembered you. The same couldn't be said about you. You definitely remembered her.

warning(s): homophobia becomes a central theme. mention of a close dead relative. internalized misogyny.

chapter 1 / chapter 2 / chapter 3 / chapter 5

You were sitting on the grass under the bleachers when Janis 'Imi'ike came up to you.

"I'm not selling right now." You said, suspecting she was here to see about buying alcohol or something. You had a contact and made a small bit in commissions around the school selling stuff.

"I'm- what? What're you selling?" Oh, well, guess not then.

"Nothing." You didn't want to incriminate yourself. It was bad enough you were smoking a cigarette right this moment. You took another drag. Usually, you didn't smoke during school but today was turning out to be a shittier day than usual.

"I'm not a nark, I could-" She seemed to shake herself. "Anyway. Why did you come to school with Regina today?"

"You saw that?" You inquired, alarmed but making an attempt to hide it.

"Yes. Now, why?"

"We live on the same street. Her car was having issues." You shrugged, trying to play it off.

"How'd you know her car was having issues?" She did not seem inclined to just let it go. It was beginning to annoy you.

"Because I fix it from time to time. Like I said, we live on the same street. We're not friends or anything." While you didn't like lying, especially not when you yourself were bitter about it, protecting Regina's rep was more important.

"I think that's a lie. We went to the same middle school for a while. You were close back then." She accused, crouching to be at level with you. You were officially annoyed now.

"You used to be close too." You took another drag and, noticing your cig was on its last leg, stamped it on the ground. "And how'd that turn out?"

Janis gritted her teeth. "Not well."

"Exactly." You gave her a tight, snarky smile and stood up. "Bye."

"Wait a minute!" She jogged after you as you made for the school building. "I'm not done!"

"I think you are." You called back, hastening your step. "There's nothing for us to talk about, Janis."

"Dude! You're being a huge dick right now." Janis caught up to you, gesturing as if she were offended. "Why are you so touchy?"

"I'm not touchy, I'm pissed that a stranger is getting all up in my business." You informed her curtly. "Lay off."

She held her hands up in surrender, an infuriating smirk on her face. "What business do you have with Regina?"

You halted and dropped your backpack on the ground. "What is your problem?" You advanced on her, not exactly squaring up but still getting a little too close for comfort.

"Woah, protective, aren't you?" She wasn't intimidated in the least. That only angered you more. "Has she ditched Cady already and found a new pet?"

"If I were you, I'd watch my mouth." You said as menacingly as you could.

"We could help each other out, y'know." She said, playing innocent.

"Why would I help you with anything?"

"Because she hurt both of us." You had to agree with that, however reluctantly. "I want revenge. She needs to go down." Now, that you did not agree with.

"What do you mean?" If they were planning a coup or something, you needed to get the details. You wouldn't be putting up with that shit.

"Cady's gotten an in with the Plastics." You'd never liked that stupid nickname Janis insisted on using. "She's still on the fence about them, but it's only a matter of time before I'm proven right."

"You've infiltrated the popular girl group like 007, great, because Regina wronged you somehow in middle school? Grow up." You rolled your eyes and picked up your backpack.

"She outed me, you douche!" She exclaimed before probably even thinking about it. Realizing what she'd said, she glanced around warily. Nobody was nearby since you were away from the courtyard.

Okay. Well. That made this a lot more complicated. You pinched the bridge of your nose. This was the exact reason you hung around skaters and stoner-wannabes. At least their drama was about graffiti and who had the good kush, not about whatever the fuck this was. You weren't aware you were living in a teen drama.

"Okay." You breathed in deeply. You did not want to be involved, no matter how justified Janis could've been. However, you needed information if you wanted to get in the way. "What've you got?"

A mean grin nearly split her face. Then, in just a second, it melted away. "You won't tell anybody, right? About, uh, that earlier-"

"I sell drugs behind the school, dude." You put it flatly. "You have more flak on me."

"True." She conceded. "So..."

Their plans weren't very well constructed, to be fair. Janis wanted to prove to Cady that Regina was a bitch, her words, and that was sort of just a waiting game. In the meantime, they were collecting information. So far they'd found out about the Burn Book, supposedly a scrapbook that Regina and her friends had filled with mean things about everybody at Northshore. Staff and teachers included. Apparently, Cady hadn't had much time to peruse it, so neither Janis nor you were in it for all she knew.

The concept made you nervous. You could very well be in that book and Cady just hadn't seen it. If everybody was in it, including nobodies like Mary Stigson and Amber D'Alessio, the chance was incredibly high.

You didn't even know what she could've written about you. Over the years you'd shared incredibly vulnerable bits of information with her. She'd shared with you too, but you weren't in any position to weaponize her secrets. You'd been through embarrassing moments that just the two of you knew of, had seen each other cry and rage and experience all sorts of overwhelming emotions, had made it through mortifying tweenhood phases together.

Regina could've written your whole life story, the nastiest highlights at least, without breaking a sweat.

You were like a zombie for the rest of the day. Barely paying attention in class, twirling a pencil in your fingers listlessly as whatever teacher went on and on. You looked up when a sharp, female voice called your name. You apologized to Ms Norbury and pretended to start working.

Calculus class, huh? You looked around, trying to be inconspicuous. You met eyes with Cady Heron. She quickly turned back to her work, writing numbers furiously. So Janis had told her about their new accomplice. Of course, you had every intention to tattle first thing once you talked to Regina again.

You knew she wouldn't want to be seen leaving with you, so you shot her a text that you'd be behind the bleachers waiting. You were her ride, after all. It would've been rude to leave her.

Relaxing somewhere quiet and alone wasn't too bad. You lifted your headphones over your ears and put on a Nirvana CD. Just this morning Regina had called you 'a hobo with a liking for grunge', or something along those lines. You did so love proving her right.

You lit a cigarette in honour of Kurt and closed your eyes. Something about this day, the utterly exhausting events, made you desperate to feel some release. Ever since dropping Regina off, you'd been a fucking mess. Janis having seen the whole thing and then coming to conspire against Queen Bee hadn't helped. You wished things could be spelt out for you.

Did Regina like you? Yes or no. You knew it wasn't that simple, that things weren't simple for her like they were for you. You liked her and so it was easy to let her walk all over you. You liked her so, of course, you sided with her even when Janis and you had a camaraderie. You liked her and so you chose not to think about the horrible thing she'd done to Janis.

Was it only a matter of time before she'd use that secret against you, too? Did it hang above your head even now?

"Hey, loser, stub the cig and let's get outta here. I'm sick of this joint."

"Who taught you to talk like that?" You opened your eyes and looked up at Regina. "Certainly not your father."

"What daddy doesn't know won't hurt him." She offered her hand to pull you up. "C'mon. I have a nail appointment to get to."

You hauled yourself up with her help. Over-balancing a little bit you tipped into her space, and for a moment there you breathed the same air. You took a hasty step back and tuned back into the conversation.

"And- and how're you gonna get there?" You already knew.

"We don't have enough time to go to mine first, so..." She smiled sweetly at you, getting that calculating look in her eye as she grabbed your arm and pulled it close to her chest. Looking up at you through her lashes, long nails stroking down your forearm, a smile so alluring it was evil on her face, she knew she had you. You couldn't say no.

Gulping, you inclined your head. "I'll take you."

"Thanks, babe." And with that, she pressed her purse into your arms to carry and skipped ahead.

Fuck. Fuck. You closed your eyes and fought off a groan. You'd almost forgotten the crush you'd nursed for her back then. It hadn't ever left, you knew that much, but it hadn't smacked you in the face quite like this before. You were familiar with moments that made your heart beat fast, scenarios that played on a loop in your head, and dreams you could never really make sense of. Now, though, hearing her call you babe and the physical reaction it evoked, there was no plausible explanation other than the obvious fact: You had a crush on Regina George.

You knew—knew—that it was hopeless. There was no world in which you and Regina could be a thing. Or maybe there was, but that was a pipe dream you'd do no good in entertaining. Your dad didn't care about who you dated, but you were sure he would be none too pleased. Regina's dad was a whole other case. He was way stricter than your dad, though just as distant.

You'd done this before. It would be fine. Admittedly, back when you'd been actively crushing on Regina you had been twelve and under. Back then you'd still tolerated skirts and girly hairstyles. Back then it'd been socially acceptable to cling to your friend like a koala, kiss her cheeks and hold her hand. If you tried that shit now, especially looking like you did, it would not slide.

(You'd been called slurs around the halls before. While you didn't generate much rumours or hubbub, you knew that you existed in people's peripherals in a certain way. They'd snidely ask if you liked the Ellen Show. Make vile hand gestures at you when you passed by. Garry Fort, resident church boy and social outcast, had even offered to pray for you. You had refused.)

"Jorts! Get a move on!" Regina shouted, a good distance away.

"Yeah yeah," You muttered, but picked up the pace.

"What took you so long?" She asked as she settled into the front seat.

"Lost in thought, I guess." Waxing melancholy about how we could never be together, sweetums. You opted not to say that. "So, where's this appointment?"

"Just drive to town, I'll give instructions."

"Sure thing." You bit your lip and tapped your fingers on the steering wheel. You hadn't had your licence for long but you'd been driving for much longer than that. You were a good driver. Back when you'd been young enough for your dad to feel obligated to spend time with you, he'd taken you to some backroads and taught you. Then, when that stopped, you'd done it illegally. Hey, girls gotta keep busy somehow.

"What's on your mind?" Regina asked, breaking the silence that'd turned uncomfortable.

"Hmm? Oh, nothing." You swallowed. "How was your day?"

"How was my day, seriously?" She turned her body to face you, arms crossed and a displeased look on her face. "What is it?"

You tried to think of something to say. You didn't want to ruin her whole day by revealing she had a spy, of all things. You'd planned on waiting a little bit before telling her. You would've maybe taken her for a ride and then gently broken the news.

So, that was a bust.

"Cady Heron is spying on you. She's retelling everything you're doing together with Gretchen and Karen to Janis and her friend Damien Leigh." You blurted it all out. "I was smoking in my usual spot and she just came up to me. And, uh, recruited me. Apparently, she saw you leave my car this morning."

"What?" Regina screeched, face slack with shock as well as strained with fear, panic, and all sorts of jumbled emotions. "Did anybody else see?"

"I don't know!" Your shoulders lifted all the way up to your ears in a panicked shrug. Her emotions were rubbing off on you and you did not like it. "Did people act weird around you today?"

"No," She paused to think. "No, everything was fine. Karen liked my top."

"You mean my top?" You corrected.

"Whatever." Regina looked out of the window contemplatively. "Are you plotting against me?"

You rolled your eyes, and took your sights off the road for a second to shoot her a look. "If I was, would I be telling you?"

"I dunno, I vividly remember you being sorta stupid."

"Wow, thanks, Reg, that's high praise coming from you. Only sorta."

"Shut up. You're so annoying." She unfolded her arms and leaned back in the seat. "Cady Heron. A spy."

"Janis told me, and I quote: "She needs to go down." Which was pretty dramatic in my opinion." Regina didn't say anything. "I mean, we're in high school."

"What does that have to do with anything?" Regina inspected her nails. Pretty acrylics, sharp and lethal, decorated with gems and swirls. A little grown out, sure, but still in perfect condition.

"I just mean that..." You thought about what you wanted to say. "Y'know, on average women in America die, like, between seventy and eighty years old. We're less than a quarter of that right now. Five years from now, I bet the problems we have now will seem stupid and insignificant. And then five years, or ten, from that, the issues then will look the same way."

"Morbid." She turned to look at you. You couldn't tell what her expression was like, in the middle of changing lanes to pass a car going way under the limit. "Are you always this philosophical?"

"I could be. If you wanted me to be." You wondered if that edged a little too close to flirty.

"No. It's insufferable." You didn't know how to respond to that. "I don't fucking care about the grand scheme of things. My problems aren't stupid or insignificant now, so it's no fucking use thinking, oh, it'll all be fine with time! Well, it won't be, if I don't do something right now." She ranted, waving her hands as she did. "And I will argue that women die much earlier than that."

"It's a statistic, Reg-"

"No, women die at menopause at the latest. They get sad, saggy and undesirable and they die." She said with such conviction that it shook you. "When you stop being beautiful, it's all over."

"Regina, that's..." Wrong. Incorrect. A horrible way to think. "I don't think that's true."

"Women like my mom have nothing to offer. When dad stopped wanting her and started looking elsewhere, when she stopped being asked out at the grocery store and they started asking me, when Kylie poked at her flab and asked what her stretch marks were, she died."

Listening to her talk like that, about her mom nonetheless, was heartbreaking. Still, you couldn't help getting angry. "Your mom is alive and well, Reg. Your dad cheating isn't her fault, it's him being an awful human being. Being asked out at the grocery store isn't like receiving a fucking Nobel prize. Flab and stretch marks are what you did to her body. What Kylie did to her body." You bit your lip when it started wobbling. You bit down harshly to stop it.

You continued even when your voice crackled. "My mom's always gonna be young and beautiful. She's gonna always gonna have smooth, wrinkle-free skin. I won't get to ask about her flab or stretch marks. Not ever." Regina was quiet. You could feel her eyes on you. "You don't get to complain about growing old. Mrs George's been like a mom to me, you know that, so don't fucking insult her in front of me. You can get all the botox and surgeries you want, but I'm not gonna sit here and listen to that shit."

"Sorry." She said, quietly. She'd never been good at apologies.

"It's fine." You wiped at your eyes. "I'm sorry for freaking out."

"No, it's... That was stupid." She mostly muttered, now sunken into the seat.

You shouldn't have raved at her like that. Unpacking all that she said would've been much easier with a clear head. Now you were both stuck in this tension. Tears drying on your cheeks and snot in your nose, you wished things would be easier. You wished Regina had never been taught to think like she did, that she'd see herself like you saw her.

"I think you'll still be pretty when you're forty." You put it out there, going for casual.

"You don't have to lie." She huffed, assuredly rolling her eyes.

"I'm not lying. I don't think a few wrinkles are enough to ruin your face."

"I'm not gonna get wrinkles. By the time I'm old enough to get them, there's gonna be technology to prevent signs of ageing entirely."

You laughed at that. "Are you gonna pioneer that?"

"You think I'd be smart enough?"

"I think you're very intelligent, Regina."

"Hm." You could tell she was pleased, though she was looking away. "Take left here."

"Yes, ma'am."

Notes: I'm writing these abnormally fast. Usually, I'm a total sloth with these things. I guess the instant gratification of notes really is addicting. If I suddenly drop off, I promise I didn't die I just ran out of steam.

I have no idea how long this series will be. I have a general outline and character arcs going in my head, but I'm purposefully not drafting anything. I've noticed that when I plan too much I just feel like I've already written the story and don't wanna put any of the work in. So, with this method, though it has its flaws, I won't get bored of my own ideas!

Also, just to sort of put it out there in writing, they're meant to be flawed characters. OC might be self-aware to a point, but she too has her shortcomings. While Regina's more obviously flawed, neither of them are saints. They're teenagers with shitty home lives, they're gonna be fucked up. That also includes Janis and Cady. They're all dumb teenagers with unresolved issues.

Taglist: @autorasexy, @wedfan2, @unadulterated-moron, @modernsapphicism, @9unknown0, @sage-rose2000, @massive-honkas, @nattys-swiftie, @likefirenrain, @luz-enjoyer

#mean girls #mean girls 2004 #mean girls 2024 #regina george #regina george x reader #regina george x oc #regina george x you #regina george x ofc #mean girls x reader #reader insert #wlw #lesbian regina george #mean girls musical #janis imi'ike #janis ian #fic: yard work

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA for not supporting my friend’s relationship?

(@aita mod I pinky promise that this is not an “aita for thinking/feeling something” submission, I’m just a long winded mf)

Okay this is admittedly stupid stupid dumb but it’s bothering the hell out of me so here we go. I (26X) have a friend (23NB) who recently got into a nice, stable(?) relationship after a string of messy short-term ones. They’ve been dating for ~2 months now, and the guy (early 30s?M) seems really nice and genuine. My friend is very happy and gushes about him constantly, which makes sense because the relationship is fairly new and their most recent previous relationships were with people who weren’t very open or communicative at all. I feel like the only valid reason I could possibly have to not like this dude is the age gap, which is more of a personal ick as I’m not really comfortable with dating anyone more than 5 years older/younger than me. They’re both adults and it’s their love life, so whatever.

The thing is, I just…do not share their enthusiasm for this guy. At all. He seems like a cool guy, but the fact that he’s dating my friend just isn’t jiving in my brain for whatever reason. I’m getting an inexplicable weird vibe. When I see a picture of them doing cute couple shit on instagram or wherever, my reaction isn’t “that’s adorable, I’m so happy for [friendname]!” or even “I’m glad they’re happy!” It’s more like “eugh, why are they doing that? I don’t want to see this.” This isn’t a normal reaction for me at all. I’m usually very supportive of my friends’ relationships as long as there are no obvious red flags. The only reason I can think of as to why I might be reacting this way is that an acquaintance of mine was pushing me to get with this same guy a couple years ago for NO REASON, and I was absolutely not interested, so it might be leftover discomfort from that. I don’t (consciously?) hold that against him though, that was 100% my acquaintance’s strange bullshit. I’m mostly into women and fem dudes, so there’s no latent attraction to my (masc leaning) friend or their bf involved either.

Here’s the part where I might be the asshole: because of my weird uncomfortable reaction to seeing this dude and my friend together, I haven’t been liking or commenting on posts/messages/etc about them being together or how wonderful this guy is. Social media interaction/validation is a big thing for them, and eventually they noticed that I wasn’t interacting with anything pertaining to their relationship. I don’t think I was obvious about it or anything, just operating on the “if you don’t have anything nice to say…” principle. Regardless, they asked me about it, and I went completely deer-in-the-headlights. I ended up saying something like “I just didn’t have anything to say about those posts, it’s not really my business” but I could tell they weren’t convinced. They asked me what I thought of the guy and I told them he seemed nice but I didn’t know him that well. I think that just made them more suspicious because I’ve been working for the same company as the guy for about 3 years now, but it is technically true. After my first few months I got transferred to a different department and haven’t seen him since.

They looked really disappointed and asked me if I could try to be a little more supportive of their relationship online, reminding me that this is “the first nice person [they’ve] dated in years” and that they “went through hell to find him.” (I think they were referring to their most recent breakups and exaggerating hardcore. They were messy, but I’ve heard every little detail about those relationships from them and they sounded like they ended due to plain old incompatibility/lack of interest. I would only call one of their recent exes “not a nice person.”) They ended the conversation by telling me that they trusted me and my approval was really important to them, which made me feel like shit, but it didn’t really make me see the relationship in a different light or anything. l definitely FEEL like an asshole, because even after they talked to me about it I have no plans to lie and act super into their boyfriend when I’m not. I realize how petty all of this sounds, but it’s obviously affecting my friend a lot, or else they wouldn’t have spoken to me about it in person. It just feels like I’d be an even worse friend if I started regularly lying to them about what I think of their relationship, even though I don’t have a valid reason for feeling the way I do. AITA?

What are these acronyms?

#aita #am i the asshole

[starrdevereauxx]

The Session

By Starr Devereauxx

Being a photographer in Los Angeles has truly been quite the ordeal. I love the freedom of it, but everyone thinks they are a star in this city. I love what I do. The creativity of it. Makes my heart truly smile. There are some mornings that I just get up with my camera and take pictures on my morning walk. It’s a calming feeling just being one with nature, camera in hand.

This morning I woke up refreshed and somewhat nervous for today’s client. I’ve worked with him before but since we have been following each other on social media and making a connection creatively, I find myself becoming more interested and intrigued with him. I met him at a vendor’s booth at a local festival 2 years ago and we have been working together ever since. He called because he wanted to take some new pictures for an upcoming business expo and he wanted to mix up his photos since he’s the keynote speaker this year. Of course I jumped at the chance to be there for him, this is a big moment for him and I’m glad to be apart of the creative process for him.

We scheduled for a Saturday morning, the weather was planned to be great that day and that made for good lighting. I was following his lead on location for the shoot. He picked an open field, not too far from my home actually. I almost felt this was weird, because I thought he would want to use a cityscape since it was for a business type event. But this was he vision and I didn’t want to take away from where he saw it going.

I arrived and he was standing there waiting on me. I think I should have worn something a little more comfortable, I almost feel like I’m about to get dirty wearing this. But what the hell, it’s all business.

“Hey Zeke! Bright and early I see” I said to him gingerly.

“Yeah mamas, early bird catches the worm. You know how I am Dev.” He said almost suggestively.

I’ve grown to know Zeke pretty well, and that’s a man that doesn’t play about his business, so yeah, I know how he is in that sense.

“So my idea is to go to the top of this hill and catch all the scenery in the back, just me against the world so to speak.. you get it Dev?” Zeke smiled.

“I sure do, I see it perfectly. But are we supposed to hike up there? I should have worn better shoes. I wish I would have known, I would have brought help for my gear” I said nervously.

“I’m all the help you need, I got you” Zeke looked at me and assured me. I almost took it the wrong way, but I knew he couldn’t possibly be talking to me that way. Something about when Zeke talks to me, I take him super seriously. He just doesn’t play about his shit. I admire that. If I didn’t watch it, I could easily develop a crush. But I never mix business and pleasure. Although it wouldn’t be hard to mix those two together with Zeke. He is the epitome of fine.

Zeke is 6’3, caramel complexion, beautiful black hair with the most luxuriously sexy thick beard adorned on his his face surrounding the most beautiful succulent lips you ever seen. Behind those lips, the most beautiful smile a man could ever have. If you were awesome enough, he might show it to you. Zeke didn’t smile a lot, but he always smiled around me. I took it as a compliment honestly. Zeke stayed in the gym, so his body.. chef’s fucking kiss. He never skipped leg day, shit any day. He looked amazing. But I’ve barely looked at him right? Who am I kidding? I didn’t even wear panties today, that’s how wet he makes me every time I see him. Let me stay focused so I can go home.

Zeke and I began our trek up the hill. Talking and shooting the breeze the whole way up. I’m doing my best not to die on the way up. I’m not a small woman, and I’m carrying all this equipment, trying to talk at the same time is pulling a miracle.

We make it to the top. He’s super excited to get started. I start to put my camera together and I immediately start shooting. He’s posing and doing a great job, I never seen him this into it. This isn’t our first time shooting, but he’s serving it up today. Wonder what’s gotten into him today?

We are sharing stories from our week during the shoot so there’s no uncomfortable silences while we work. There’s a look in his eyes, almost like he’s looking past the camera and looking directly at me. I’m doing my best to not overthink because if I didn’t know any better, I would think I’m getting a vibe here. But not Zeke, I’m not even his type.. at least I don’t think. I’ve never talked to him on that level. I always keep it professional.

“I have another outfit, let me change” Zeke stops me.

I turn red immediately. Change? Where nigga? There’s no bathroom here. He begins to take his clothes off and let me tell you, he truly misses no days at the gym. He takes off his pants and I don’t know what that family size Pringles can is laying on his left leg is, but he should call a doctor and get that checked. I’m choking from here and I haven’t even gotten on my knees, that’s how big it is.

I swallowed slowly and turned around like I wasn’t staring that whole time. I’m sure he caught me gawking at him like a ravenous beast. But I keep it professional, so he didn’t see me.. right?

“Dev, you ready? You can turn around now” Zeke said softly.

I turn around, but his pants weren’t up yet. Not only were they not up, other items had been removed. He’s ass naked. I stare, mouth agape.

“Zeke, what part of the game is this?” I said with my voice literally shaking.

“I didn’t want to be prepared for this. I want some pictures of me nude. Professional ones, and I wouldn’t trust anyone else to do them. I didn’t want to ask first, so I thought I would just surprise you…. Surprise” he said slowly.

“Well hell yeah, this is truly a surprise, but I don’t mind. I got you. This is art, and that’s all I see this as. You displaying your art. I got this. I got this” I said trying to convince myself that I don’t want his dick in every hole I have. He’s so gorgeous I’d let him fuck my inner ear cavity. So I’m gonna sit here, do my job and lie to myself like I don’t want him to blow my back out.

We begin working again. This time some wind picked up, just my luck because now he’s sporting a giant erection. I can’t ignore this. I’m trying hard, I’m trying as hard as his dick is.. and that’s REALLY hard.

“Can you help me pose for this next part? I wanna make sure I have a good angle.” He said sharply.

POSE HIM!? Touch Zeke while he’s naked! I can’t do this. I’m gonna give him his money back and leave. I can’t do this. If I touch him, I’m gonna most definitely be unprofessional. I don’t wanna lose a client this way.

“Sure” I gulped.

I walked over to him slowly. Slow like a man on death row, because I knew it wasn’t gonna go well when I touched him. At this point I’m not even giving him eye contact anymore. I reach out to touch him to pose him and he quickly grabs my hand and takes my camera out of my hand.

My pulse is fucking racing triple time. I think I’m having a panic attack. Oh no, I fucked up. He grabs my chin and forces me to look at him.

“It’s okay to look at me Dev, I’m not gonna hurt you, I’m just naked. Is that okay? Is my dick being out bothering you?” He said in the most gentle deepest voice possible. His voice felt like a subwoofer booming in my panties. He’s got me so wet, my jeans are finished.

“I.. I just wasn’t prepared for this today Zeke, I just came to take your pictures. It feels like something else is happening here now” I can’t even feel myself breathing.

Zeke looks in my wide innocent looking eyes, and grabs the nape of my neck and pulls me close to him and says “Something else can happen right now if you want, if you don’t want it to, just say the word and I’ll respect your word”

I remained silent.

“Come here” he said as he kissed me and held my face in one hand and my camera in the other hand.

He places my camera on top of my backpack next to him. He takes his other hand and pulls me closer to him. I feel that giant dick pressing against me and grazes my pelvis. I inhale deeply like he put it in me already. My body is starting to feel limp. He’s taking all my energy with every kiss he takes from me. My hands begin to run up and down his chiseled body. He feels amazing all over. How the fuck did we get here? I just came to work. Now I’m in the middle of a field, in the middle of nowhere making out with my naked client.

I begin to kiss all over his neck all over his chest and down his stomach. I can literally see the main vein in his giant member pulsating, literally waiting to make itself a home in my throat. I’m salivating just making my way down. I bow down before him like I’m about to give thanks and gratitude on both of my knees. This head is about to be religious. I’m ready to give my best in this moment.

I part my lips and gently greeting the tip to the warmth of my mouth. Letting his dick get acquainted with my wet face hole. This will be one of the 3 holes he meets today, so I wanted him to feel the difference between the three. Pursing my lips and allowing him to sleep past my opening straight to my uvula. Punching it with each stroke he takes as he simultaneously covers it in precum.

So here I am, in the middle of this feild, being throat fucked to no end. Zeke’s head is tilted all the way back in the air as he moans into the great wide open. My great wide open is becoming wetter as I sit here on my knees, waiting for my holes to be used. He’s gagging me so hard I almost throw up, but my gag reflexes are stronger than his thrusts.

“I’m so fucking close, I’m gonna paint your fucking throat” Zeke screams out as I am sitting here waiting for him to Picasso me with his ejaculation. He strokes harder and harder, saliva is pouring from the sides of my mouth as my tongue licks all over his shaft and tip. He starts to pick up the pace even more, harder and faster until….

My face is covered in cum. Dripping out of my mouth and covering my lips. My throat is coated. I know I must have seriously swallowed a lot because there was more that came out than what’s covering me.

Zeke stares at me in amazement.

“I think this changes our business relationship a bit Dev” he says while touching my face, rubbing his cum into my lips.

“I want more, my pussy is aching for you to be inside me” I reply to him, uncovering my engorged clit and soaked pussy. Showing him what I want him to destroy.

“How bad do you want me right now Dev? I want you to beg for my dick” Zeke says with all authority in his voice.

He walks over to her, reaching for her. She reaches out her hand, he moves it and grabs her by the neck. She instantly climaxes in his hands. He’s holding Dev his hands as she drops all over the tall grass.. he moves in close to kiss her cum covered lips.

And then…

To be continued.

#ginger pussy #onlyf@nz #+18 or +adult only #sexy content #18+ content #spicy content #watch me masturbate #starrdevereauxxtales💋 #submisive and breedable

[bagopucks]

T. Zegras - Disheveled Duckling

✄————————————

Trevor Zegras x Reader

Requested✨

Word Count: 4.2k

Warning(s): Insecurities, and a tiny tiff

—————————————

“Whose decision was it to make Zegras the cover of NHL 23?”

“Tried and failed to make the new face of the league Trevor Zegras.”

“What an absolute joke.”

“Too flashy. Not enough skill.”

“Good thing the Ducks hired another useless player. I was afraid they might actually make the playoffs.”

“Wonder if he has to hold onto sh** when the wind blows”

“His girlfriend need a man’s man?”

“Holy shit!” I slammed the door to the house I’d slowly grown to love. Trevor and Jamie’s.

Jamie’s head shot up from the couch, startled and frightened by both my abrupt arrival and my anger.

“You good?” I heard him chuckle. No doubt nervous. I took my shoes off, locked the door, and turned to look at my boyfriend’s best friend. Silence filled the air around us. Jamie’s nervous smile immediately disappeared.

“It’s impossible.” My shirt was dripping with water, as were my hands. “And you didn’t even come outside to help!”

“Trevor’s car is really that unclean-able?”

“It’s yours! It’s your Jamie! What are you driving through?” His cheeks turned red. Trevor was out for a hockey game, but when I informed him that my work place was trying to schedule a late night meeting, and we hadn’t known how long Jamie was going to be at the doctors office, Trevor said he’d simply take an Uber. I felt bad when Jamie came home five minutes after Trevor had left. So I decided to go out and wash their cars for them. It was a nice day anyway, a little outdoor time hadn’t hurt.

“I don’t know?” I had managed to get Trevor’s car practically spotless before I had waxed it. But Jamie’s was something else. It had tiny asphalt pieces all over. Which was usual on a car, but I couldn’t scrape them away without chipping paint, and they wouldn’t just wipe away either.

The sun had begun setting mere minutes ago. I had given up on Jamie’s car. I was tired, I’d missed more of the hockey game than I wanted to, and now I was simply angry.

“You’re lucky I have a moral compass that says I shouldn’t hit injured people.” I grumbled as I left the living room, walking through the house to find mine and Trevor’s bedroom. I needed a change of clothes. Something comfortable.

I had been getting notifications for a while on my NHL app. I had only stopped to look at a few, but from what I’d seen, the Ducks were losing. Another reason to be stressed. Another reason to worry about my boyfriend.

I met Trevor when he played for the USA hockey team. We just happened to be in the same town and in the same pastry shop the night it happened. He was trying to order a bear claw, and I had let out a rather exaggerated sigh over the fact that it was the last one. We shared it over two cups of iced coffee.

After that, we became friends and remained so for a long time. The year he got drafted into the NHL, it seemed he’d been on enough of an adrenaline rush to ask me out. I said yes. He pursued his dreams while I pursued my own. Our paths of life ran parallel, but close enough to hold hands along our walks.

I’d been around long enough to see Trevor make records in USA hockey, get drafted, play in the AHL, and eventually join the league permanently. I’d also seen the rise and fall of his mentality as those years went by as well.

I couldn’t pinpoint when it truly started, but I would certainly say when the media began pushing to make him the new face of the league. That was when Trevor began to feel the anxiety.

To everybody else, he loved it. To everybody else, he ate up every second of attention he got. He loved the videos online, the commercials, the sponsorships and free stuff. And part of that was true. Trevor did love all of those things.

But people put so much pressure on you when they expect you to be the poster child of anything. It can change people. Hell, Sidney Crosby’s first year in the NHL was spent screaming at any ref he could over a call he didn’t like. Getting misconducts and penalties he ought not to. Good men can fall long ways under immense pressure. But when the spotlight is on you, all people want is to see you fall and fail. People want to see the hero bend and bend and eventually break.

Trevor loved the attention, but he despised the hate. He didn’t like opening his sports news apps to find articles on himself, and not having the impulse control to not read them. He hated posting something on Instagram, and going back to check a comment from a friend, only to find hate surrounding it. He hated hearing people he looked up to all his life’s putting him down left and right. He hated being misunderstood, but not given the platform to express his grievances. He had no right to discuss his feelings. Nobody would listen.

Perhaps that had been what made him feel like he couldn’t come to me. What made him pull away when I could tell he was tense and disappointed. It took me forever to really understand why he would come home looking so defeated. Looking like a parent who should have expected better from their kid. It took me forever to realize how much Trevor hated himself.

I blamed it on the publicity over and over again. They built him up so much, just to tear him back down. And I knew with each loss, there was a new article. A new post. A new video. A new comment.

My hopes were whisked away when I opened the NHL app to see the score. 5-1. Not a good look for the Ducks. Then of course, upon further inspection, opening the live summary of the game, I realized Trevor had his own ten minute misconduct.

I was never happy that he fought. That he got in people’s faces and picked fights with guys who could have pinned him down to the ice in one shove. But I understood somewhat. Trevor was just trying to look out for himself. Trying in his own short tempered way to be heard in a league that would not listen to him. But we both found through time that nobody was on his side other than his team and few friends.

“Jamie!” I tossed my phone down onto the bed as I grabbed a spare shirt and a pair of shorts. I quickly changed, the lack of response leading me to assume Jamie was ignoring me. I rolled my eyes as I walked back down the hall, stopping once I was in the living area and over the couch.

Not ignoring, somehow asleep. I worried sometimes about him and his pain medication. He was responsible with it, but I still worried. I gently nudged him. Easy to wake, per usual. And he couldn’t have been out that long.

I nudged Jamie again, watching his eyes flutter open. I gestured for him to move, and he quickly cleared a space for me on the edge of the couch. I sat and took the tv remote, turning the screen on.

“Have you had the game on at all?”

“No.. it’s been.. kinda- stressing me out.” I nodded.

“Trevor got into another fight.” Jamie wasn’t surprised. But he knew as well as I did that Trevor was struggling. On his own little broken sailboat, refusing help because he didn’t want anybody else to be caught up in his storm.

“It should be over by now.” Jamie shifted and sat up, leaning against the arm rest of the couch.

I found the channel and flipped it on. Sure enough, Jamie had been correct. I crossed one of my legs over the other, eyeing up the tv in search of my boyfriend. When I couldn’t find him, I assumed they had kicked him out of the entire arena for the last ten minutes of the game. Banished to the locker room.

I used to love games that took place in the middle of the day. Trevor would come home and we’d have dinner together. Then we’d curl up in bed and whisper for hours until we fell asleep. Now, games in the middle of the day meant there was extra time to avoid aggravating Trevor.

We sat in silence until the goal horn sounded, frustrated Ducks players exiting the ice. It was a waiting game now. One Jamie and I were happy to do together, so neither had to worry about Trevor alone.

“He’ll probably be fine.” Jamie broke the silence with a statement we both knew to be false.

“He hasn’t been fine.” I knew that in my mind, but my heart broke at the first confession of the fact. Trevor had been a wreck of emotions and I hadn’t been able to fix even one of his problems.

And he hid it all so well underneath that big smile. And all those jokes.

Jamie and I returned to silence not long after, but when we caught the headlights through the window, he had been the first to get up to leave.

“You should handle this one.. right?” I gave a nod in approval to his suggestion.

“I’ve got him.”

Jamie retreated to his room after that. Always only one call away if Trevor or I ever needed him. I was supposed to be one call away for Trevor too. Why didn’t he ever dial my number?

I waited for what felt like hours for Trevor to come inside. He never did. So I decided to see what was going on. I unlocked and opened the front door, surprised by the sight of Getzlaf’s car in the driveway. I could just barely make out the silhouette of two figures, one pointing at the other in a manner that looked tense.

I leaned in the doorway, and waited patiently before I was spotted. Getzlaf gestured, and Trevor climbed out of the car. He grabbed his gear from the back, and I heard his voice shout something to his old captain before making his way up the short drive to the door. I wasn’t sure what to say, so instead I stood there, staring at Trevor as his eyes met mine. He looked like he was waiting for something.

“Can I come in?” I was surprised by Trevor’s tone. Playful and lighthearted. I looked skeptical, but I nodded and stepped aside nonetheless.

“I was thinking we could do dinner? I miss that. Maybe- we could try.. like steaks? I know Jamie just got a pack the other day.” Trevor’s always been talkative, but this time it feels off. There was a sound in his voice I didn’t know how to place.

“Trevor I can’t cook steaks.”

“Let me do it.” I stared at him as he shut the door. He hated cooking.

“Come on! It’ll be fun! Let me take care of you.” I shrugged. What’s the worst that could happen?

Trevor insisted I sit at the table while he did his thing. I was hesitant, but I allowed him space nonetheless. Trevor tried to talk about the game a bit, but the bitter laugh that occasionally fell from his lips, and the sad sound in his voice usually caused him to stop before he got into any good details. He often stopped his own comments with something like, “guess it doesn’t matter anyway.” And the repetition of the phrase made me feel like it was a media interview. Like he was repeating and repeating just to get me to go away and stop asking questions. I hadn’t asked any in the first place. That’s what he was hesitant about.

“And the misconduct?” I hoped to look disinterested. Like it didn’t bother me, so I looked down at my phone. Trevor never turned to look at me.

“It was bullshit.” I glanced up at him. His shoulders rose slightly.

“What was it on?”

“You didn’t watch?” Trevor turned to look at me, and I don’t know why, but this time he seemed upset. I had missed games of his before… but this was the first in a long time.

“I was a little busy.” I smiled at him, hopeful to keep the clean car a secret until he could see it in the morning.

“No that’s cool..” he shrugged it off and turned back to the stove. It was definitely not cool, not to him, but he wanted to move on. So we moved on.

I listened to Trevor occasionally mumble under his breath about whatever he was making, the sweet smell of cooked meat filling the kitchen along with the sound of the sizzle of two steaks on the pan. I was certain I hadn’t missed out on Trevor learning how to cook.

Once they were finished, my boyfriend beckoned me over, and I was quick to join his side. He cut a piece and I waited for it to cool off before biting the tender piece of meat off the knife he held. At first it was perfect. Then it was oddly sweet. I made a face. Trevor noticed.

“What’s wrong with it?”

My eyes searched the various items and ingredients strewn across the counter. When I noticed it, I giggled.

“Trevor,” I nodded my head toward the container I used for sugar. I never labeled it because I knew what it was, and the boys didn’t use the big box of sugar I had set aside for baking.

“That’s sugar.” His face fell for a split second. Then he started to laugh. I thought about joining him before it all just felt off. Trevor’s eyes quickly adopted a glazed over look, his smile falling into a frown as the laughter ceased and an overwhelming look of grief overcame his features.

Trevor shook his head before turning the stovetop off. I reached for him while he reached for his keys in his pocket.

“Where do you wanna eat?”

“Baby no. We’ll fix this.”

“I don’t want to. Where do you want to eat?”

“Trevor.”

“I said I don’t want to!”

We didn’t get into fights much. We didn’t like to, but I couldn’t keep disregarding his feelings for his comfort. Something had to give.

“I love you, but you’re gonna sit your ass down and talk to me Trevor.”

“Fuck this.” He shook his head, tossing his keys onto the counter and turning to walk away.

“Trevor!” I snapped and followed him. “I am so sick of seeing you so- so sad! You have to talk to me!”

“I don’t!”

“Then who are you going to talk to? Huh?” Because I knew he was horrible at opening up.

“I don’t know! Nobody fucking listens!” I followed him all the way into our room, pushing the door shut behind myself.

“I’m listening!” I was desperate. “Trevor, I’m right. Here.” He turned to look at me. His anger eased into a blank stare, and it seemed my offer brought everything crashing down at once.

We stared each other down. Both waiting for the other to give up or make some kind of move.

“I’m so tired.” Trevor’s voice quivered, his lips pulling into a frown I hated to see. His eyes fell to the floor.

“Everybody’s so…” he drew in a breath. “Too much- it’s all too much.” Trevor sat down on the side of our bed, his head fell into his hands. “They hate me.”

There was a little kid in there. Devastated. Heartbroken that his heroes wanted him gone. That kids parents didn’t deem him a good role model. That he was ruining his own track record by trying to stay afloat. Trying to survive when nobody respected him. When refs pushed him around and legends dragged his name through the mud. Trevor just wanted to live his dream. He had fun before all the publicity. He didn’t need it, but it was forced on him.

“Nobody hates you.” I slowly made my way over, raking my hands through his hair. Trevor lifted his head to look at me, his brow furrowed and his cheeks red.

“Everybody does! I don’t want to be the guy everybody hates!” Trevor raised his voice, but I couldn’t be bothered to be upset. This was only the tip of the iceberg.

“They liked me..” his voice dropped to a mere whisper. My brow furrowed as I rested my hands on his cheeks, prepared to wipe tears as they began to fall.

“Huh?” I met his volume, Trevor closed his eyes tightly, swallowing the lump in his throat.

“They liked me.. and I ruined it.” Sure, he hadn’t been perfect, but even the aggressive egotistical asshole players had fans. This wasn’t Trevor’s doing. This was the media realizing they failed and then deciding to spin his story. To make him a villain.

“It’s all my fault.” His words were interrupted by a broken gasp, I guided his head to lean against my stomach, pushing a sigh past my lips as I tried not to get too emotional.

“Trevor, this is not your fault.” I ran one hand through his hair while the other held his head.

“I just can’t- fuck!” His voice was muffled in my shirt. “I don’t want this.” I glanced down at him again, my hands travelled to his jaw to move his head from my body.

Trevor’s eyes met my own. So sad. So lost. So broken.

“I don’t want hockey if it comes with all this shit.” He tried to bury his head back against my body, but I held his jaw tightly.

“Trevor.” I carefully moved forward, resting my legs on the bed on either side of his own. I sat on his thighs and pulled Trevor in for a tight hug. His hands gripped the sides of my shirt.

“You just have to be patient. They’re gonna test you.” I whispered against his ear as his head buried in the crook of my neck.

“They test me every day.” I sighed. I didn’t know how to help. “I mess everything up.. they don’t want me. They want somebody who can actually get shit done. They want somebody bigger and faster.. and stronger. They want what I’m not.”

I rubbed at his back with one of my hands.

“Trevor, nobody gives a shit about your weight.” I had never heard a single thing on it before. Sure, maybe his mom made a comment or two about how skinny he was, but it was more so commentary when she was trying to feed him. It never had anything to do with his job.

“Yes they do.” He was insistent. I knew this was a projection. Him trying to find a reason to blame himself for something he couldn’t help. Not everybody gained muscle easily. It wasn’t a bad thing. But to him it was. To him, it was embarrassing.

“I think you look great already. If you get too big, then you can’t lay on top of me any more.”

“That’s not the point.” My joke crash landed. It only seemed to frustrate Trevor more. “People just.. they say shit.” I rested one of my hands on Trevor’s forearm while I worked the other through his hair.

“Like what?”

“That I can’t keep up.. that I’m too scrawny. I need to ‘build up.’ But I can’t! I try and I can’t! I don’t know what’s wrong with me!” He sounded desperate. Desperate for answers I didn’t have.

“It’s genetics Trev. It’s not something you can help.” I knew he tried a million different things. Nothing ever worked. And I knew how hopeless he could get when he’d go to take a peek in the bathroom mirror, and see absolutely no progress. Trevor never had an issue with his body until people started saying things about it.

He’d always wanted to get bigger, but he was patient before. He was willing to really take his time. Now one comment could leave him in the gym for more hours on end than he ought to be in there for. One chirp left him laid down next to me in bed with a shirt on and a pair of pants, curled in on himself like it would somehow make him and his insecurities any less noticeable.

“Or maybe I just shouldn’t be playing hockey. Maybe I’m just not cut out for it.” His sadness had shifted into acceptance. Like he was ready to give up.

“They drafted you Trevor. People talked about you forever. People were elated to have you in the league.”

“Yeah. Were.“

“They still are.” I sighed. “So you have an attitude? They’ll get over it. You know how many people have said they love you? They love your personality, and your talent? You’re a new version of the game. A new type of style everybody is going to know you for.” I moved my hand from Trevor’s hair. I gently traced his jawline with my fingers, holding my breath at the sight of my disheveled duckling.

“What if it never gets better?” Trevor had thought about this more than I realized. I shook my head.

“It will. There’ll be some new hotshot they’ll idolize and attack. Some new player who takes a downward spiral that they decide to torture. This won’t be you forever.. you just have to stay strong while it happens. Okay?”

“I just wanted to play hockey..” exhaustion was evident in his tone. I allowed Trevor to rest his head on my shoulder again, his breaths were heavy from trying to hold back the tears that hadn’t fallen.

“It’ll all work itself out, Trev.” My voice lowered to a whisper. “They did the same thing to Jack.. they did the same thing to Crosby. You just have to handle it better.. that’s all. You know I love you, I just think they get under your skin too easy.”

“I know.” Trevor sighed.

“You have to remember to calm down sometimes. Nobody’s ever going to listen if all you do is yell and fight.”

“That’s what Getz said.” I had been curious, but at no point did I consider asking what Getzlaf had said to Trevor. It hadn’t been my place. But I was happy Trevor told me nonetheless. It was reassuring to know somebody else was telling him the same things.

“You need a stress ball out there or something.” I joked softly, running my hand through Trevor’s hair one last time before I rested my hands on his shoulders, pushing him back so I could see him.

Trevor mustered a sad smile at my words.

“Maybe you just need to chew on your glove like Jack.” I added, trying to go two for two. It seemed that comment earned a giggle from him.

“Or reach out and talk to him.” My tone took up a more serious sound. Trevor pursed his lips and nodded. “You guys don’t talk as much as you should. He probably gets jealous of Jamie.”

I went three for three the second I noticed Trevor’s smile widen, his eyes squinting as well when he laughed.

Silence enveloped our own little world. I tucked a strand of his hair behind his ear. Trevor seemed to finally relax.

“We’re gonna be okay,” I whispered as I gently placed my hands on his chest. Trevor picked up the cue to lay back as I propped myself up over him.

“And I love you.” I added softly, pressing a kiss to his collar. “And Jamie loves you,” Trevor smiled again. “And your mom, and your siblings, and your dad. And all of your friends all scattered about.” I climbed off of Trevor and slipped off the bed. He looked confused before sitting up to look at me, eventually standing as well.

“You don’t have to be perfect.” He stepped closer, resting his hands on my sides as my own slipped beneath his shirt to hold his hips. “Nobody needs you to become a body builder.” I continued. Trevor nodded slowly. “And nobody needs you to lose that attitude.” I wrapped my arms around his body beneath his shirt, gently scratching his back. His weakness. He loved back scratches. “Just keep being the Trevor I know and love. Just be yourself, okay? Everything comes after that.”

And everything did come after that. I didn’t want Trevor to lose himself or his confidence because of others.

After I got him settled, Trevor and I had cleaned the mess in the kitchen and I took him out for a quick dinner. We ate on some curbside, talking and laughing over nonsense. When we did get home, I had checked up on Jamie, prepared to ask if he was hungry before I found he’d been asleep. After that, I slipped back into our room and got settled in bed with him, flipping through streaming services until we found something to fall asleep to.

✾❀✾❀✾❀✾❀✾❀✾❀✾❀✾❀✾❀✾❀✾

#nhl imagine #trevor zegras #nhl x reader #trevor zegras x reader #trevor zegras imagine

[ugh-yoongi]

HOBI REQUESTS YAY! okay so at first i was thinking it might be hobi's birthday and he stays late at the studio regardless of the day and comes home to reader all tired and drained, but then reader has such a sweet surprise for him when he gets there (whether it be a cake, flowers, balloons, etc.) and it just seems like he can breathe again without the weight of his work on his chest, even if it's just for that night, he can fall asleep with no problem.

OR, considering it's in the name of jess' birthday, it could be reversed? reader's birthday and hobi has the sweet surprise instead? i don't have an idea of what specifically would be demanding so much of reader's attention, but coming home to hobi with his pretty smile on such a day seems like something so beautiful.

that's all i could muster up as of now, 🙃 if you chose to, feel free to play around with it until it's something you are comfortable with! <3

thank you so much for the request! i went with the first one and i hope you enjoy it! <3

(side note: i banged this out in one sitting so i'm tentatively optimistic that my writer's block is cured. we'll see. thank you all for your patience and not showing up in my ask box with pitchforks.)

ataraxia

pairing: hoseok x reader genre: est. relationship au; fluff, a tiny bit of angst warnings: hobi's kind of going through it so there are allusions to poor mental health, otherwise this is mostly fluff. just being there for your person when they're having a tough time. no gendered pronouns used. unedited. rating: e for everyone wordcount: 1k listen to: novo amor - anchor

Hoseok had heard once that babies born in the winter are stronger.

Something about mothers being able to absorb more vitamin D during the summer months.

As he collapses onto the floor of his studio, sweat and exhaustion blurring his vision, he thinks those people are full of shit. What has being born in winter gotten him besides muscle cramps and seasonal depression? Because he’s also at a higher risk for that, which those people lauding his athleticism tend to leave off of the discussion.

He sighs. He’s twenty-nine now, and there’s something truly haunting about the inevitability of time. Can’t slow it down, can’t make it go faster; he just has to sit here and take it. Next year he’ll be thirty, thirty-one the year after that, and on and on it’ll go for the rest of his life.

All he has are these little joys: the squeak of his new sneakers on the studio floor, the kids in his class finally nailing their routine, those peach iced teas he likes being buy one get one free this week at the convenience store next door. He has you, too, but you were smart and traded in your two-cent dreams for the corporate world and now you’re spending his birthday on a business trip to Singapore.

Yoongi would call him an asshole for that, probably. He has friends. Friends who want to see him, buy him a drink and give him gifts, and he appreciates the effort, he does, he’s just… tired. Fatigue has seeped into all of his bones and left him nothing more than a husk of a person. It’s been months of this same unending grind, and he’s running out of self to give.

At least Singapore is warm this time of year. In Seoul, beyond the frosted windows of his studio, there’s nothing but gray-brown slush and a patch of black ice he can’t melt no matter how much he salts it.

“Fuck this,” he mutters.

It’s nearing nine o’clock. He needs to get home; needs to eat something and drag himself into a hot shower before he crawls into bed and spends the entire weekend there. Needs to reply to all the texts on his phone wishing him a happy birthday. Needs to tactfully and politely turn down all the invitations. Needs to post some bubbly, colorful message on social media thanking everyone for the well-wishes and attach a photo from a few weeks ago because he hasn’t been smiling much lately.

First, though, he needs to get off the floor.

He usually likes his walk home. Likes pressing his face to the glass to look at all the window displays when he’s not in the mood to shop. Likes seeing other people go about their days, live their lives. Likes looking at all the ways the city reflects sunlight and fades to husky gold. Likes walking under the cherry blossoms in the spring; likes it even more when a few petals stick to his shoulders and you laugh and brush them off as soon as he comes through the door.

It’s hard to get off the floor when none of that is out there.

But he does it anyway, because maybe he has a bit of that winter strength. He packs up his stuff and sits at the bus stop, counts his exhales as they materialize in front of him, thankful for the heavy coat you’d bought for him a few years ago, now well-worn and no longer itchy. He sits at the back by himself and sends half-assed replies to all of those texts. Scrolls back to stare at the photo you’d sent him this morning—fresh from sleep and barefaced, lips pursed together in a kiss, thumb and pointer fingers together in a heart.

Slush sticks to his shoes as he ducks inside the building. Nearly trips climbing up the stairs, because the two of you live on the fourth floor and it feels too lazy to take the elevator, even when his muscles are screaming from a long day at the dance studio. But it keeps him moving. Keeps him upright and functional when all he wants to do is rot away.

His shoes are dry by the time he reaches the door, soaked into the carpet lining the hallway. His hands still bear the cold—red and unsteady, it takes him a few tries to punch in the code. Gets it wrong twice, and he takes a second to just… stand there, head resting against the door, feeling the weight of the world come down on him.

He’s not sure what he thought twenty-nine would be like, but surely it wasn’t this.

And maybe if he wasn’t feeling so low, he would’ve noticed. Your keys in the bowl by the door, your shoes in the rack. The light on in the kitchen. The smell of the miyeokguk simmering on the stove. The sound of your footsteps as you meet him where he stands, shoulders slumped, eyes brimming with tears and exhaustion.

“Hob-ah?”

There are hands on his face. Soft, he thinks. They’re touching him so softly, treating him just as delicately as he feels. He leans into it; recognizes the perfume stuck to the wrist. Knows it smells like home and an aching he can never seem to put a name to, and you don’t hesitate to wrap him tightly in your arms.

“You’re not supposed to be here,” he says, words waterlogged and hesitant as he speaks them into the crook of your neck. Nothing feels real, and he doesn’t trust himself to open his eyes.

You tangle your hands in his hair. Scratch lightly against his scalp. “I got an early flight home. Got back this afternoon.” This is where someone else would ask if he’s okay, try to pry apart his ribcage and look at all the ugly parts, but you don’t. There’s just a small intake of breath and the reluctance to let him go. “The miyeokguk is almost ready,” you say instead. “Do you want to take a shower while I get everything ready?”

Hoseok is reluctant to let go, too, but he’s at his best when he has a task. Needs something to accomplish, something to check off on his imaginary to-do list, so he nods. Pulls away and immediately misses your warmth. Takes your face in his hands and presses a kiss to your forehead. Thank you, it says. I needed you here.

You already know, though. You always do.

#hoseok x reader #jhope x reader #hoseok x you #jhope x you #hoseok x y/n #jhope x y/n #hoseok imagine #jhope imagine #hoseok fanfic #jhope fanfic #hoseok fluff #hoseok au #bts imagines #bts x reader #bts x y/n #bts fanfic #fic: jess drabbles #jewel answers #jewel writes

[shibaraki]

❄︎ ─ END OF YEAR REC REPORT: THE SHIP AND GEN EDITION

hi lovelies. as the year is coming to an end I wanted to work with my followers to compile a rec list of fics that have stuck with us as one massive thank you to all of the writers in our corner of tumblr/ao3. below you will find ship and gen fic from multiple different fandoms, and everything is in alphabetical order. I am grateful to all of you for the amazing work you do, and to those who participated!

fics: 37 fandoms: 9 total word count: 2.3m...

❄︎ HQ

ampersand by infantblue [ONESHOT] [37K] #: miya atsumu x hinata shoyo - post timeskip - pretend relationship - hurt/comfort - anxiety - falling in love

Atsumu confesses to Hinata on a dare and everything falls apart.

atsu101: how to fall in love with your fake boyfriend by solyn [MULTI-CHAP] [110K] #: sakusa kiyoomi x miya atsumu - university au - pretend relationship - slow burn - fluff - growing comfortable with intimacy

Atsumu needs a fake date. Sakusa needs a fake boyfriend. What could possibly go wrong?

channel: jackal by aka_aka_aka [MULTI-CHAP] [340K] #: multi - social media au - timeskip arc - humour - fluff - romance

MSBY Black Jackals' Jacksuke-kun!! ☑ @.MSBYJacksuke Jacksuke here with an announcement!! 🥁🥁🥁 We've started a YouTube channel!! Trailer's already up and on Friday next week at 8p.m. JST, we'll tell you who you'll be seeing most often (not everyone wants to be on camera after all). See you all then!! 🖤🖤 897🗨 • 16.4K⟲ • 33.3K♡

don’t talk to me or any of my fourteen children ever again by meregalaxiesandgods [MULTI-CHAP] [39K] #: gen - ukai keishin x takeda ittetsu - families of choice - hurt/comfort - team dynamics - implied child abuse - fluff - angst

Ukai Keishin was not—and had no interest in becoming—a father. He’d somehow become responsible for fourteen children regardless.

how to not fall in love with your flatmates twin by ionica01 [MULTI-CHAP] [46K] #: sakusa kiyoomi x miya atsumu - university student sakusa - pro volleyball player atsumu - coming of age - fluff - falling in love - canon compliant

Kiyoomi and Osamu are flatmates, the student life is not rose-colored, and Atsumu shows up at the most unexpected times in the most expected places. Kiyoomi is... dealing with it.

getting it right by akaashism [MULTI-CHAP] [46K] #: kageyama tobio x hinata shoyo - best friends to lovers - pretend relationship - mutual pining - idiots in love - light angst - eventual sexual content

“I just—” he swallowed, bracing himself. “I need you to pretend to be my partner for a few days.” Hinata’s eyes grew wide and something like hurt flashed over his face. “Pretend? I thought we were partners! At least on the National Team. Aren’t we?” Tobio restrained the urge to smack him upside the head. “Not like that, idiot! I mean, partner in life! Like a boyfriend!” Hinata’s mouth snapped shut.

new horizons by popplino [ONESHOT] [10K] #: iwaizumi hajime x oikawa tooru - growing up together - animal crossing - friends to lovers - mutual pining - hurt/comfort - fluff

Oikawa always figured he'd end up falling in love with Iwaizumi, but he didn't expect for it to happen through a video game. Or: Iwaizumi, Oikawa, and the Animal Crossing franchise, through the years.

never stood a chance by litalana [ONESHOT] [9K] #: kuroo tetsuro x kozume kenma - fluff - jealousy - feelings realisation - coming out - love confessions - getting together

When the entirety of Nekoma finds out Kenma is gay (which was never meant to be a secret), Kenma becomes the focus of many of his male classmates. He could really live without all these love confessions though. So could Kuroo, for that matter.

no thoughts required by tawaki [ONESHOT] [9K] #: miya atsumu x hinata shoyo - friends with benefits - sexual content - heavy pining - introspection

It's the same shit, just on a different day: Atsumu is sleeping with Hinata. Atsumu wants to do more than sleep with Hinata. And Atsumu is—regrettably, completely, pathetically—whipped.

other boys in other ports by buttonstuck [MULTI-CHAP] [26K] #: sakusa kiyoomi x miya atsumu - science fantasy au - space sailor miya atsumu - bartender sakusa kiyoomi - fluff - sexual content

It’s stupid, waiting a year and a half for three meager days. Three days is all Kiyoomi gets, because he’s in love with a sailor who only makes port every few months. A sailor who has other lovers in other ports across the galaxy. But Kiyoomi can be happy being a warm bed, if it means he gets those three days every few months with Miya Atsumu.

that should be me by dillpicklechipsenthusiast [ONESHOT] [10K] #: iwaizumi hajime x oikawa tooru - love confessions - fluff - crack treated seriously - pining - first loves

After a disastrous night, Iwaizumi only has one solution for dealing with his drunken confession to his best friend: enlisting an unlikely group of friends to help him run away.

vren by icandigelvis [MULTI-CHAP] [100K] #: kageyama tobio x hinata shoyo - mythical beings and creatures au - historical fantasy - slow burn - fluff and angst - protectiveness - creature kageyama tobio

It was the boots that caught Shoyo's attention. They looked new and expensive sticking up from the tall grass, visible from the small trail he was walking on. He cautiously trudged closer, almost against his will. What Shoyo didn't notice, however, was the creature watching him; blue eyes following the oblivious human.

❄︎ BNHA

accidental (problem) child acquisition by shadecrawler [SERIES] [209K] #: gen - canon divergence - foster parenting - social services - child neglect - emotional hurt/comfort

After Aizawa Shouta's famous Quirk Assessment Test where he chews out his newest Problem Child for lack of Quirk Control and tells him blatantly that he can't become a Hero, he finds out two things. That Midoriya Izuku's Quirk came in on the date of Yuuei's Entrance Exam and that he is now in need of a foster parent. And it just so happens that Aizawa Shouta is in the best situation to raise a kid with such a self-destructive Quirk.

as small as an elephant by feelingstabby [MULTI-CHAP] [43K] #: gen - quirk accidents - animal transformation - fluff - angst - platonic cuddling - parental aizawa shouta - hurt/comfort - trauma

The one where Izuku and his sensei are turned into cats and have to learn to trust each other while struggling to find their way back home.

cardiac arrest by amournfulhowlinthenight [MULTI-CHAP] [190K] #: gen - psychological thriller - canon typical violence - kidnapping - character studies - character death - metafiction - revivals

All of the dead at Kamino Ward had been accounted for, sans one. One body had been pulled from the rubble, lifeless and limp, and taken away.

candy canes and christmas crackers by bigdorkenergy [MULTI-CHAP] [103K] #: bakugo katsuki x todoroki shouto - fake dating - christmas - fluff - romantic comedy - mutual pining

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❄︎ JJK

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#fic rec #bnha fic #jjk fic #hq fic #m.navi #fic

[theharrowing]

White Lies 🤍 0: Introductions

Yoongi is everything you could ask for. He is attractive, confident, and smart. And his partner Taehyung is as possessive as he is beautiful. Too bad a relationship would be a major conflict of interest.

You need to have them at all costs.

🤍 Yoongi x Female Reader x Taehyung

🤍 word count: 0; screencaps of twitter feeds & text messages.

🤍 college au, cop au, partial social media au with a lot of written story, strangers to lovers & established relationship, yandere, hurt/comfort, smut, fluff, angst, slash, poly, minor character injury & death, graphic violence, nsfw, 21+.

🤍 warnings: ACAB includes our MC, sorry you found out this way.

🤍 this is a sequel to Boy Blue! i highly recommend that you start at the beginning to fully understand the the dynamic & history between Yoongi & Taehyung. there will be a lot of references to Boy Blue; this fic will spoil the shit out of it. this MC/reader character is not the same MC/reader character from Boy Blue.

🤍 for full notes & warnings, see the master list.

🤍 note: those of you who read Boy Blue...you finally get to meet one of the characters for the first time. are you excited??? this is the first of several surprises hehe.

🤍 posted nov. 2023 | read on ao3

INDEX | NEXT

Profiles of starting characters:

reader/mc:

Yoongi & Taehyug:

Seokjin:

note: time stamps & dates are important but also a bit loose. if you see a mistake just pretend you don't! more profiles are likely to be added, and i may or may not remember to edit this post so just vibe with it. 🤍

also note: the image for mc is a statue of medusa, and it is not meant to suggest that she is white. her physical description is going to be kept as vague as possible.

* * *

Teaser for Chapter 1 because i love you:

😈😈😈 HELLO, MY LOVES!!! ARE WE READYYY??? i am still trying to wrap up Collateral before i get too far into this fic, but the muse has been wanting to work on this and nothing else, so here is a teaser. and yes, you are not mistaken, Kim Seokjin is alive. 😈😈😈

i cannot thank you enough for keeping the hype for Boy Blue alive. it was such a wild ride that i thought people would hate me for, and it became somewhat of a cult classic. this fic will have all the twists and turns that you have come to expect from Boy Blue, with some wild new additions because my writing style has changed a bit in the last two years.

REBLOGS AND COMMENTS ARE THE LIFEBLOOD OF THIS SITE, BUT LIKES ARE ALSO SUPER APPRECIATED!!! 🤍🤍🤍 BUCKLE UP BECAUSE THIS IS GOING TO BE A WILD RIDE!!!

tag list: @bangtan-tee-86 @ffion451 @fluffybuns69 @here4kpopfics @iloverubberduckiez-blog @lovemeforeternity @mgthecat @moonleeai @oceansmerchild @unsureofwhathappens 🤍 visit the master post to read the warnings & request to be tagged!

INDEX | NEXT

White Lies is copyright 2023 theharrowing, all rights reserved. No translations or reposts allowed!

#taehyung x reader #yoongi x reader #tagei x reader #bts smut #bts angst #bts yandere #social media au #undescribed images #undescribed #fic: white lies

[chezzywezzy]

Yandere Kurt Kunkle (4/4)

Word count ; 4.2k

*Edited.

*Sorry for being an hour late! Jut woke up. I decided to sleep in today :)

“Are you guys ready?” Jessie hyped from the stage, charismatic, charming, and incredibly sarcastic. 

If Kurt wasn’t as jealous as he was, he would’ve been a fan. What fueled him more was seeing his girlfriend in the audience, near the front. She was adamantly watching. Kurt had his stream up. He only glanced at his reflection, and he had to admit, the car crash did a number on him. He had a bash in his skull and she blood dribbling from his mouth. His left eye was black and bruised. His shirt was torn. Even Kurt knew he looked unhinged.

Jessie did her mantra, and it irked the man. He was somewhat dazed, fingers twitching as he waited. He wanted it to be a spectacle. For Jessie to drop dead at the end of her show and to have Y/n flock to him for comfort the minute he saw him. It was just so unfair for Jessie Adams to have everything. The fame, the shows, the love of his life.

“All eyes on me. I want to be seen,” Kurt giggled.

He notice this chat was calling him a psycho. Delusional. Insane. It was funny, because he was the victim in the situation.

“Great. Get your phones out like we do every time. This is our favorite part, right?”

Kurt couldn’t help but pull his phone closer to his face, even though the overhead light blinded the camera. He pulled the gun to the stream, showing it off.

Jessie was prancing around on stage. She wasn’t even telling jokes anymore. It irked him that she was a ‘comedian.’ The woman was stalling. She completely lacked talent. How did Kurt just now blow up, after ten years of hard work, but Jessie squired thousands. In a matter of a few years?

Kurt’s gaze flitted back to the camera. He received a donation. ‘I made a Kurt Pepe to celebrate his survival.’ He didn’t say anything, though, returning his attention to the gig.

“So, if you follow me on social media, you probably know me and my girlfriend had to put some skeezy bozo, the driver included, in their places during a Spree ride today. The bozo, though, was all like ‘Come on, girl, give me a smile.’ Ugh, I mean, that’s not breaking news to any woman in this room. We go through this shit every day.” Some woman cheered from the audience in support of this statement. “What really grinder our gears was the slurs. I have to applaud him, though. It’s not every day a guy ticks all three boxes : I mean, any girl would be lucky to have him. Racist, misogynist, and homophobic?”

“Fuck that guy!”

“Right? Fuck that guy,” Jessie hollered. “He was a date-rape drug in person. And I was angry at this guy, but then I got sad. Because of the driver. The Spree driver.” Kurt turned the camera back to him. He was baffled. Maybe Y/n did have a point in their call earlier. “First of all, he was hitting on my girlfriend - and terribly, might I add - since they were real life friends. But second, he was like, ‘how’d you get suck a big following? We should share tips.’”

Kurt felt numb and angry at the same time. She was making a complete mockery of him. He raised the gun, his hands trembling. His patience had been tested all day. Oh, it was hard not to pull the trigger.

“And then he was kind of, like, soft begging, like,’ Oh, please, lord, tag me.’ And it was so sad and pathetic. And…” Jessie’s expression completely changed. Kurt was taken aback. “It was just like me.” That made Kurt pause. He finally started listening to what she was saying. Deeply. “I went to my granny’s house after with my girlfriend. My… my safe place, like my pre-show sanctuary. And I could not shake that ride. Like, I was so pissed. And I was thinking about that guy, and that ‘please tag me’ energy. And I was like,’ ugh god, that was pure me.’ Like, he was me. I’ve done that shit before. 

“And then I just, like, reckoned with myself. For the last two years, I’ve been saying,’ All eyes on me.’ Now I finally have what I want, and I am creeped the fuck out. I’m serious. It’s like, whether you have twenty-million followers or twenty follower, we’re all being watched and judged and hated. And you love it, you love it. You need it. You’re all addicted to it.”

Kurt completely zoned out. This horrible, unfair woman… was right. For years, he had been trying to get the girl. But was the answer in front of him all along? Did he just… have to put down the camera —?

No. This woman knew he’d be watching. But he couldn’t deter himself now. How tens of thousands of followers he’d now acquired made the difference. He was making a difference. And at the end of the night, he’d get that girl. No doubt was in his mind.

“…And that’s why, when I wake up tomorrow, I’m going cold turkey. No more social media for me.” Kurt was stunned. She couldn’t be serious. Nobody could live without it. Not Kurt, not Y/n, and certainly not the woman who made a career of it. Kurt’s hands were trembling. He had to shoot. He needed to shoot.

“Okay! All eyes on this, bitch!”

That was all Kurt needed. It was like a lightbulb went off. He couldn’t do it here. Not now. He had to get Y/n and Jessie Adams alone. He had enough eyes on him to commit the deed. He was considering it as a… subscriber-only special.

And so, he darted out of the room to continue with his plan B.

~~~

Spree was down. Because of a murderous Spree driver. I was almost relieved our Spree Social was with Kurt and a total asshole. It could have been us that were victims. So, instead, Miles rang up a GoGo. I knew what Jessie was doing; she was a lesbian flirting with a man. But, apparently Miles was too obsessed with her to realize that we weren’t just setting up for a threesome.

“It’s a white coupe!” Miles informed, flashing a sloven grin. 

Jessie wrapped her arm around my shoulders her fake smile dropping in a flash. Miles was called over by some ‘bro’s, but that was enough for us to make our mighty escape. We exited through the back and dashed up to the white coupe. Miles calling out to us from the outside.

I slipped inside, and slammed the door. The window was down, so as Jessie exclaimed,” Drive, drive, drive!”, she flashed a middle finger out the window.

I laughed loudly, a little tipsy from drinking all night. Jessie was also drunk, but she was better at hiding it. If anything, her mind was clearer after a few beers. I leaned against the window, a grin permanently glued to my face as the driver took off. 

“God, at least he can’t spam me anymore, seeing as I broke my fucking phone,” Jessie sighed, leaning against the headrest. She was already on the verge of dozing off, but since we were going to her place, it wouldn’t be worth napping.

I nudged her playfully, and she reached over, intertwining our fingers. The city was dark and the roads were vacant. Jessie suddenly spoke up, incredibly alert,” Wait, what address did he give you?”

“Three-seventy-five south Hobart.”

“Okay, good.”

“Good.”

My heart froze. Maybe I was just drunk, but I leaned into the front, peering at the driver incredulously. I was… terrified when I saw the driver was Kurt. It may have been dark, but his jawline and dampened bangs were instantly recognizable. He glanced at me, flashing me a smile. I instantly withdrew into the back, blinking in surprise.

“Kurt?”

“The one and only.”

“H - how…”

“It’s my job, Y/n.”

“Wait, Kurt - oh, my god. Are you stalking her —“

“Yeah, you literally work for Spree —“

“Well, I’m sorry I’m not a super famous comedian and I have to work two jobs to pay the bills,” he suddenly snapped. He glared at us in the rear view mirror, and a pang of guilt hit me. But, although he was still displeased, he returned his gaze to the road. An awkward silence fell over us.

“I’m about to pass out. Fuck, I’m stressed.”

Shivers rolled down my spine. Kurt had made me incredibly alert now, but Jessie was clearly winded from the show. I let her lean her head down. I stared out at the passing traffic, hand on my chest to calm my pounding heart.

“Jessie,” Kurt suddenly spoke up, an eerie smile on his face,” I liked your set tonight. It was… it was inspirational.”

That was what made Jessie alert. She didn’t have her seatbelt on, so she scooted closer to me. She had a deathly grip on my hand. I squeezed it, as a silent ‘everything will be okay.’

“You saw it?”

“Hell yeah. I was there. It was awesome. Jessie, I think you’re actually a genius.”

“Thanks man. Uh… don’t take what I said to heart. If anything, take it as a compliment. I, uh, broke my phone for you…”

“I’m so glad you didn’t take that water bottle earlier. That would have been…”

“Why, Kurt?”

My question fell on deaf ears. Jessie was fading, and Kurt was selective with his hearing. I didn’t like that he chose not to answer it. “You know, Jessie, when you were talking up there, I realized inside of me, it was like this activator. And it, like… whoa, all of a sudden, the things that you were saying, I realized they were in my head, but I just had not thought them yet.”

“Okay… cool.”

I pulled my dead phone from my pocket. “Um, Kurt, do you have a phone charger in here?”

Kurt glanced at me, and I noticed something was dripping from his hair. He turned back before I could recognize it, though. “Um, nope. I need to charge my phone for work.”

“My phone’s dead. If I could use it for just a minute —“

“No.”

Ouch. Maybe he was holding a grudge from earlier. But something was off. Jessie was doing her darndest to stay awake, and somehow, she asked the fundamental question :

“Why are we going east? We need to be going west.”

“You know what I’m all about now, Jessie? I’m all about love. That was the fundamental issue me and Y/n had. But I’m a man of love, now.” It was like I wasn’t even in the car. Jessie was petrified, and Kurt was motioning like a madman, grinning ear to ear.

“You can just… just pull over here and let us out —“

“Okay, just listen to me,” Kurt interrupted. “It’s good for you to hear this before you die. Love is more powerful than anything.”

We both fell silent. I clung to the woman, petrified. 

“Love is seriously the way to go. I mean, I’ve been in love with Y/n for years, but I just wasn’t showing it the right way. Imagine how happy she’d be from the audience growth I’ve had. And the audience growth we’d have for a leaked sex tape! I mean, having sex. We’re beyond having sex at that point. We’re, like, making love!”

“Where are we going, Kurt?” I squeaked fearfully, tears threatening to fall.

“Oh! I’m taking you home,” he said, confused. He turned completely, and I could see that what stained his face was blood. It glimmered in the street light.

“This is not the way to my fucking house, Kurt!” Jessie shrieked, having lost her temper once again. Understandably so, because the man was a maniac. And I felt guilty for creating it.

“Oh,” he sighed. “Not your home. My home.” He turned, looking at me again. His face was stone cold serious, and I couldn’t help but squeal quietly. 

“My home.”

Jessie, with flared nostrils, turned to look at me and I at her. The reality of the situation was setting in. Kurt was a fucking psycho. And we were going to die. And probably get raped first. For content.

This wasn’t the Kurt I knew. Or had he always been this way?

We continued driving in silence. Kurt turned into a deserted neighborhood, dark and dismal, but I knew the streets well. We were close to his home. Jessie pulled away, quietly shuffling through her purse. She withdrew a phone cord, wrapping her hands in it. Kurt was humming to himself.

I recognized the song. It was our favorite in high school. I knew it well.

 Grunting, Jessie suddenly pulled the phone cord over Kurt’s head and around his neck. Kurt kept one hand on the steering wheel as the car swerved, the other going to tug at the strong cord. I was left to sit back, not wanting to compromise Jessie’s plan in the slightest. Kurt was struggling, and struggling badly.

He was gasping for breath, finally releasing the wheel. His foot was slamming on the breaks, and that caused my head to skyrocket against the window. My vision went blurry and I lost control of my body as we swerved onto Kurt’s front lawn. 

Kurt finally shook himself free, and Jessie fell back, screaming. I took my foot up and went to kick his red face. He took it, but at the same time, caught my foot. I screamed trying to pull back. However, he tugged on it, maiming me in the backseat.

He undid his seatbelt with his free hand. He looked pained as I swatted at his leering body. He grabbed me by hair and bashed my head into the window. It didn’t knock me out completely, but I was winded. I didn’t have enough strength to stop him as he surely attacked Jessie the same.

Silence fell over the car, except for the ringing in my ears. And that’s when I felt Jessie’s side of the car open. I glanced over, fingers twitching, as I watched her body fall out the car. Kurt was paying me no mind, talking to his stream, as he hoisted Jessie up and started dragging her to the middle of the field.

This was the time to escape. Y/n, please, wake the fuck up.

I sat up abruptly, screeching out of terror when I saw that Kurt had dragged Jessie’s body into the middle of the field. He was waving a gun in one arm, and a phone in the other. I must not have alerted him. 

I tried opening the door, but then I noticed a certain red light on the handle : the child’s lock was on. I stomped my foot and began attempting to climb into the front. I noticed, though, that this drew Kurt’s attention back to me. He began walking over to the car, but I noticed Jessie twitching from behind him.

Good.

I was half in the front seat. He was almost there, but in a last ditch effort to save my skin, I reached over and locked the driver’s side door. Kurt, with a pouting expression banged on the window. I flinched, trying to push myself up further.

“Y/n, unlock the door. You’re acting irrational.”

“Me?” I shrieked, banging on the window back. “You’r the one fucking killing people, Kurt!”

I kicked, pushing three-fourths of my body into the front. Kurt, with a strained face, was now slamming the back of his gun into the window. And yet, just as I clambered into the front seat, a shot was fired.

But not at me.

I covered my head instinctually. Silence fell, but then I heard roaring laughter and an ‘oops!’

I looked up, trying to reposition myself. But, as I looked up, I realized what he’d shot. Jessie.

A scream bubbled but could not escape. I was frozen, even when another gunshot fired. It was muted, probably due to the silencer clipped on the front. Tears were streaming down my face. I suddenly flinched, though, my gaze flitting away from Jessie’s corpse as glass shattered on me.

Before I could react to the shattered window, though, Kurt reached in and unlocked the door. I tried scrambling to the other side, but as my body turned, he grabbed my ankle and dragged me out. My head hit the step on the way, and the ringing got louder.

I felt the world underneath me move. I heard vague, enthused chatter as two warm arms hooked under mine and pulled me off the ground. I couldn’t will my eyes to open, but I also wouldn’t allow myself to pass out. Jessie had died fighting for her life because of my friend. The least I could do was escape, too.

I felt grunting as I was hoisted over a back. Footsteps ensued, and I couldn’t help but bury my blood-stained face in the crook of Kurt’s neck. I was aware of what was going on around me. I just couldn’t move my body in the slightest. 

A door opened. I assumed we were entering his house. I was in so much pain. And yet, Kurt was still humming our song. He was stronger than I ever gave him credit for. But that was beside the point.

I was dropped on a cushioned area. The couch, I think. My head lulled back instinctually, and I tried to tune into the one-sided conversation. Fingers poked and prodded at my face gleefully.

“…Now, I see you certain psychos in the chat begging for me to kill her,” Kurt chirped. “Sorry, not happening anytime soon. Right now, I’m thinking about finishing off dad and then getting the fuck out with her. You guys might not have a stream from us in a while, on account of escaping the police. That’s tough luck you know?

“But god, just look at her. All sound asleep… I should clean her off a bit before we get going.”

Kurt pulled away, but just then, I heard a manic, deep cry. I muttered under my breath, finally having feeling return to my twitching body. Chris’s voice rang out. 

“Kurt…! Did you do this to your mother? Who did this?”

I heard him adjust his gun. “Sorry, dad. I just had to get her out of the way. I’m going to make this quick because Y/n and I are heading out soon. I’m thinking Nevada. I don’t want to be too far away from home, after all —“

“What the fuck are you talking about, man? Just put the gun down. We can talk about this —“

“We had an entire fucking lifetime to talk about it! We had tonight!” Kurt was pissed. I knew he always hated his father, and rightfully so. But nobody deserved to die in this situation. “But no-o-o, you cared more about your shitty soundtracks and drugs and alcohol. I’m done wasting my time being unhappy, I’m done wasting my time on you and mom!”

“Kurt, please… just think rationally. What would Y/n think —?”

Bang. Bang. Bang.

Just like that, it was like I had found life. But instead of immediately springing to my feet, I remained still, with my eyes closed. I heard blood splatter across the walls, and some even hit me. I heard Kurt laugh, satisfied.

“Wow! That was easier than I thought it would be. He didn’t even put up a fight. You’d think a selfish asshole like him would.”

He thudded back over to me, gripping my cheek and tilting my head up. I assumed his phone was in close proximity of my face. “Isn’t she cute, chat? I can’t believe some of you wanted her dead. I stole this wedding ring from mom. I plan on proposing when she wakes up, just to show you guys how much we love each other.”

His words made me sick to my stomach. Kurt had lost it. I scanned my brain for signs. When? How? Why? I couldn’t believe he’d always been this way. Maybe the change was so slow that I never could’ve called it. But I should’ve. Because lives would’ve been saved if I spotted the insanity sooner.

“Welp, let me give you guys a house tour while I pack.”

I heard him stomp away. The house became silent, except for Kurt’s distant, cheerful chatter. That was my queue. I hopped to my feet as quietly as I could, stabilizing myself. I’d taken too many blows and had sustained a limp. My face felt sweaty, but I knew better. It was caked blood.

I sent one glance over my shoulder, which confirmed that Chris had bled out right beside Kurt’s pale and deceased mother. I wanted to throw up on the spot, but I knew this was my chance to escape and call for help. I limped over to the front door, which had been left wide open. 

I almost laughed as I passed through the door frame. But it was all for nought, as Kurt’s shout of surprise echoed the living room behind me. That was enough to send me running, even though a jolt went through my body with every step.

Kurt’s house was in the middle of butt fuck nowhere. However, as I got closer to the road, preparing to scream, my leg caved. I let out a scream, but it was from pain. My leg had finally caved, and I facepalmed in the dirt. My immediate reaction was to claw myself back onto my feet and keep screaming, but a body tackled mine.

I let out voice-cracking sobs from the pain. I definitely twisted an ankle and got a concussion at the minimum. However, as a hand covered my mouth, I could only hear some loud hushes emitting from the psycho straddling me from behind.

“Calm down, Y/n. You’re safe now. Stop being so silly,” he comforted, pressing something metallic to my hair as he ran his fingers through it. His fingers were slimy and wet. I released mangled sobs into his hand.

His weight lifted off me for but a moment, and I was flipped onto my back. Even with a streetlamp shining on us, there were still black pots in my vision. I blinked furiously, finally being met with Kurt’s manic expression. He was so happy.  He shouldn’t have been. I didn’t see anything on his features betray anything else. He loomed over me, like a predator and prey.

“There we go. Nice and calm. This is how things are supposed to be, right, Y/n? Things are supposed to be fair. And now they are.” There was a hunger present in his eyes. He leaned closer, andI felt his breath fan across my face. “Now, I’m going to remove my hand and you’re going to be calm. Otherwise, I’ll have to knock you out. And that’s not how I want our first kiss to go, you know?”

My blood ran cold, but I resigned myself to what would happen next. I nodded.

He removed his hand, and I opened my mouth. He was on edge, preparing to hit me with the butt of the pistol. Instead, I meekly croaked,” Kurt, stop.”

He completely blanked before tilting his head in confusion. “What’s wrong, Y/n? Stop what? Do you need a shower? Oh - are you hungry —“

“Kurt! This is insane. You’re insane,” I sobbed. “I can’t believe I used to have a crush on you. If only I knew what you were really like.”

Kurt’s brows furrowed, and I almost laughed. Of course he was that stupid to have never known. He was too obsessed and demented. The way he must see the world…

“You… used to have a crush? On me? When?”

I snickered. “Like, tenth grade. Back when you used to be a good person. Honestly, Kurt, just fucking kill me. I’m tired. I’m hurting. I’m sad and everything bad. If you like me so much, just end it for me.”

Kurt frowned, once again stroking my hair with gun in hand. I tilt my head away over so slightly, making him twitch in dissatisfaction. “Well… if you really don’t like social media that much… we’ll go off the grid. A road trip. Just you and me. Doesn’t that sound nice?”

He’d twisted my words to his own satisfaction. He never listened. I couldn’t help but resign myself to what happened next. He crashed his pistol into the side of my head, and it all went blank.

#yandere #x reader #x y/n #self insert #joe keery x reader #joe keery #joe keery imagines #joe keery one shot #yandere spree #spree #spree movie #yandere x reader #kurt kunkle x reader #yandere kurt kunkle #kurt kunkle #kurtsworld96 #yandere horror #horror #horror films

[lovejosephquinn]

Part 1 > Part 2

Angst to fluff. Break up to Make up.

Summary of Part 1: Joe and reader break up due to a drunken kiss Joe had at a party one night, she tells him to come over to collect his stuff but ends up sleeping with him one last time, both now sharing a broken heart, he tries to beg for forgiveness but she tells him to leave. He blocks her number and it's time to move on...

Summary of Part 2: It's four years later and Joe and reader bump into one another in the street, catching up she invites him over but instead he gets a surprise that is deemed life changing...

Tag list: @joeschains @munsons-mayhem28 @theoneandlaurie @aysheashea @itsfreakingbats @live-love-be-unique @josephfakingquinn @paranoidmunson @kayleeelena97 @figmentofquinn @choke-me-eddie @etherealglimmer @ches-86 @ali-r3n @daleyeahson @queengirl56 @sadbitchfangirl @purplerain85 @whoscamila @joe-quinn-loving-queer @freakymunson @idkjoequinn @astridflowers @evansgal

Word Count: 4k

Life was never the same again after that one afternoon that you said goodbye to someone you thought you'd love forever for the last time. It was not goodbye in the respect you'd never see his face again, plastered all over social media and various new movies you'd see him, reaching new levels of fame and soaring high in his career, that was the only way to see the man you once adored, yet it was a farewell all the same and a chapter you'd now closed in your life.

Four years had passed and everything had changed, you no longer cried yourself to sleep at night, you were in a job you didn't necessarily mind, you'd moved into a house, had a few dates here and there that didn't really last long for one reason or another yet above all that; you had the greatest gift of all. You were comfortable to say the least.

You wandered around the streets of Soho, London one sunny morning, not somewhere you went too often but your free day saw you in the mood for exploring your own city. Finding a quaint little café on a secluded part of town, the smell of fresh pastries and patisseries, coffee and the chatter of friends and people minding their own business were scattered around, you entered the glass door with the ring of a bell above it with the hope of a decent breakfast. You smiled at the scents around you, the warmth of the sunlight shining brightly through the big windows behind you, the queue was slightly long but you had all the time in the world, not an often occurrence in this day and age but you'd make the most of it.

Ordering a large coffee and pain au chocolat to go, you stood by the side of the counter before the barista called your name to collect your order, your stomach rumbled as you watched others devour their breakfast just as you were about to. Heading outside to bask in the sun and people watch, another of your favourite past times, you bit into the oozing French pastry, your eyes almost rolling to the back of your head when the first bite hit your tastebuds.

Finishing it off quickly, you took the lid off of your coffee and began to walk back along the streets, your phone buzzed and you were too preoccupied staring down at it when you came to a sudden holt, stumbling and slamming into the lower chest of a person before you, your coffee spilled all over you and the stranger in question.

"Shit I'm so sorry!" You began to wipe yourself down, your chest burning from the clutch of the hot beverage, stains seeping down your summer dress.

"No, please I didn't look where I was-" The voice broke through your ear drums like a curse, a familiar sound if ever you'd heard one but you weren't quite sure where you'd heard it or why, scared to look up due to the pause of the low male voice, you instead sauntered to a nearby bin, throwing away the coffee cup, only to hear the voice catch up with you once again.

"Y/N? Is that you?"

You turned around and finally brought yourself to look a few inches up. Your ex boyfriend also known as Joseph more formally.

"Jos- Joe. Hi, oh my goodness. I didn't recognise you in-"

"This hat? No it's a disguise." He smirked playfully, god had you missed that look. You had to do a mental shake of your head, though it was years on you still needn't forget what he'd left you with.

"A pretty rubbish disguise if I ever saw one." You chuckled a small laugh his way, earning one back in return. Joe rubbed the back of his neck in an awkwardly shy remark.

"So what're you doing round my end?" He asked.

"Didn't realise Soho belonged to you." Your sarcasm showed and Joe noticed it right away, watching you glance around the area.

"You haven't changed a bit." He laughed again.

"I didn't intend to, good or bad?"

"Good. Always good." Joe smiled. It was like you were old friends, everything fell into place like something you'd never lost. But you had lost him, you'd lost him all those years ago and you were willing to forgive but you'd certainly not forget.

"So what're you doing here?" He was trying his best to keep the conversation alive, just awaiting the next sarcastic move.

"Well I was enjoying my coffee but apparently it had other ideas."

"Can I get you another, you know to make up for the one you lost?" Joe offered that smile that made you melt, the one you'd see on social media a lot of the time, the one that you couldn't ever say no to, a free coffee though? What's there to lose.

"Sure. It's the least you can do." You walked over to a different cafe, as much as to save the embarrassment of going back to the previous one to show off your stained clothing. Joe remembered your order, which was surprising due to the amount of time that'd passed, but it was sweet nevertheless.

Sitting down at the nearest table, you gazed out of the window once more, feeling not just the warmth of the sun anymore, but the burning of your blushing cheeks from the brown eyes that burnt into you, staring intently.

"So what's new with you?" Joe asked.

"Life's life. Decent job, new house-"

"Love life?" Wow. He had to drop the L bomb.

"Non existent." He looked somewhat relieved and surprised at the same time. That was clearly the one answer he wanted.

"Honestly, the same."

You talked for hours, catching up and bringing up old memories and times when you were happy together, teasing one another about silly little things, you'd not smiled like this in a long time, yet little did you know, in the same respect; neither had Joe.

He took a glance at his phone, whispering under a short breath shit, looking back up to you with sad eyes. "I gotta go, got a photoshoot to get to at the other side of town in 15 minutes."

"Duty calls." You smiled miserably, anyone could see through that smile, you were sad the short and surprising meet was coming to an end so quickly.

"C-could I maybe get your number? You know so we can maybe see each other again?" He dared ask the question that made your heart beat through your chest, the whole phone situation was a delicate one with you and him, especially because the last time you tried to contact him in desperation, he'd blocked you.

"Of course." You tapped your number in his phone and he quickly sent you a little smiley emoji so you had his in return.

"You're looking great by the way, I've missed you love."

"You too." You meant that in both ways, but keeping it short and sweet as a way to not get the wrong message from one another, you just agreed. Joe left swiftly, looking back once to offer you that beautiful yet reluctant smile.

Your head was in sub space for a while after, you couldn't quite believe what'd happened and it felt so right. After all this time, there was something you couldn't quite put your finger on, a coincidence, the universe sending you a message maybe? The second chance could've been there but you weren't rushing too quickly into it, you would only go as slow as your heart was telling you to but still your mind was racing ten to the dozen.

You'd just finished your house chores when your phone buzzed and you ran over to it like an excited child. It was exactly who you wanted to be on your notifications when your phone lit up.

Joe: Hey, it was so good to see you again x

You: Wasn't so bad to see you again either x

Joe: Maybe you could come over tonight? x

You: Let me check my schedule... x

Joe: Okay miss popular x

You: Appears I have space to fit you in, send me your address and I'll be there x

Joe: *Joseph shared location on maps*

Joe: See you at about 6pm? x

You: Looking forward to it x

A quick invite lead to you losing your mind, again, what had you got to lose? There was nothing wrong with hanging out with your ex from years ago, plus other secrets that you held, it was just something that maybe was meant to happen, something you'd silently dreamed of for a little while, gotten out of your head and then it reappeared again like a hidden surprise.

You turned up dead on 6pm, checking your phone to make sure you'd got the right address and knocked at the door. You didn't knock a third time before the door swung open and there stood him. Looking slightly more casual than earlier, glasses firmly a top his head, a warm and welcoming smile as he gestured for you to come in.

You don't know quite where the moment started or where it ceased to end, but a lovely meal cooked by the man himself, followed by a few glasses of wine ended in you getting a little too comfortable with Joe, maybe it was the liquid courage or maybe it was the feeling telling you to go with it. A what will be will be kind of situation. You were unsure how you'd managed to find Joe's lips plastered to yours, moulded perfectly as they moved in unison. It hadn't even been 24 hours since you met again for the first time and already sparks were flying between you. They say you never truly get over your first love and it showed in the situation you'd found yourself in.

Joe had caged you beneath him and the sofa and you were in full make out mode, tongues dancing and gliding around each other, hands roaming over each others bodies, the most intimate and beautiful moment you'd felt yourself getting into in such a long time, butterflies flipped in your stomach and your heart was racing in full panic attack mode, but you were happy and to your knowledge so was the man kissing you, you could almost tell by the smile you felt in the midst of the passionate encounter.

Joe pulled away, scanning your features, stroking his fingers down your cheek, enjoying the softness of your skin against his digits. "Maybe I didn't realise how much I'd truly missed you darling."

"Me either." You took a short sigh, content nonetheless but still a little scared. Focusing on the present and the most handsome man you'd ever laid your eyes on, you stroked your fingers along his jaw, he relaxed in your touch and closed his eyes, coming down immediately to plant sweet sloppy kisses along your own jaw and down to your neck. A small whimper erupted from your throat, which egged Joe on further, his hands now pressed firmly to your clothed breasts.

A crashing reality hit you when your phone rang, the vibration running along the coffee table next to you, you tried to ignore it but then the vibrations came again, and then again.

"Maybe I should answer that."

"Just ignore it."

It rang again. You moved up as a sign for Joe to get off of you. Moment ruined. It was your mum, you swiped your phone off of the table quickly and ran into the kitchen so Joe couldn't hear the other end. He tried his hardest to listen to the conversation and the tension rising, he swore he heard the sound of a faint cry coming from the receiving line, making his brow furrow.

"Yes mum, I'll come right away." You ended the call, rushing back into the living room standing a couple of metres away from the area where you had just been underneath Joe minutes before.

"I have to go, I'm so sorry, I'll text you though. Tonight's been amazing Joe. Thank you." Joe noticed the apprehension in your voice, tilting his head to the side in a worried manner.

"Everything ok?" He said in a concerned tone.

"Yeah, absolutely. Just need to get to my mums."

"I can take you if you-"

"No, it's fine. See you soon." You ran out the door with nothing but a blunt reply, slamming the door and rushing to the tube station to get to your mum's house. Luckily she didn't live far from Joe's so it made the journey all the more shorter.

Your phone had buzzed a couple of times upon your return home, it took you some time to look at it this time around, not being able to reply as quickly as you wanted too, your head full of stupid thoughts on what Joe could've been thinking about your quick exit.

Sitting on your bed, exhausted and with full intent to go to sleep, first you read through the messages.

Joe: I hope everything's ok? I hope I didn't take it too far. I know we have history and all that but I was really happy to see you again, even in that way... x

Joe: Let me know you're good. It's been a while and you haven't replied x

Joe: Y/N. Regardless of you not replying, just let me know when you're ready, if everything's ok at least, I'm worried about you x

You tapped your fingers fast, feeling quite apologetic in your reply.

You: I'm sorry I had to just leave like that. It wasn't you and I'm fine. Reality called and I had to answer it. There is one thing you really do need to know and if you're certain you want to be in my life, it now comes with a package deal... x

Your hesitation to press send almost made you want to vomit, now you were the one who was worried.

Joe: Package deal? What're you talking about... Of course I want to be in your life, friends or maybe more again someday, we can take things slow x

You: Come over tomorrow. I'll send you my address, please don't be scared but there's something you need to see x

Joe: I'll be there. I'm not scared of anything, I'd just be scared of losing you again. There's no worse feeling than that x

Tomorrow would come too soon, you were the one who was scared, scared of his reaction to what you needed to show him. Something that belonged to him, not the sweater of his you'd kept all of these years in the back of your wardrobe, something a lot more close to home. It was your own decision to bring this up too quickly, but he needed to know the truth as soon as possible.

Your phone buzzed and your hands shook in its grasp.

Joe: I'm on my way, I'll be 15 minutes if I don't hit traffic x

You: Ok x

You put your phone back on the kitchen counter top and bent with your elbows firmly pressed against it, rubbing your hands over your face and taking a huge inhale of oxygen, it was almost time.

You didn't hear it at the time when you were upstairs in the bathroom, but there was a knock at the front door. Behind it stood a slightly nerved Joe. The front door slowly opened and where your face should've been stood all he could see was through into your home. He double took when he looked down to see a little girl staring back at him.

"Hello are you mummy's friend?"

Joe's jaw dropped, his hands became clammy and his mouth filled with saliva, the type that you feel when you're about to throw up.

"I-I am. I'm Joe." You had literally gotten to the doorway and watched the love of your life meet the other love of your life, your eyes grew as wide as Joe's in that second and you felt paralyzed from head to toe.

"You can come in if you want" she said politely, totally oblivious and innocent to the tension between yourself and him. Joe couldn't take his eyes off of her, he was stunned, practically the last thing he could've imagined.

Your daughter ran over to you and you swooped her up in your arms, carefully watching Joe's every reaction. "Joe, I'd like you to meet my darling girl, Madison."

For the first time in his own life, he was speechless yet full of questions, not necessarily questions he could be asking in front of the little girl, but there was enough time for that.

You gave her a quick peck on the cheek and set her feet to the ground. "Why don't you go and watch some tv whilst I talk to my friend Mads?" She nodded and took a brief wave at Joe before skipping off to the living room.

You felt so close but yet so far away from him in this mere moment, waiting for his response; whether it be good or bad something had to come of it.

"So you had a baby?" Joe asked, his eyes firmly pressed to the ground.

"I did. She's amazing, the best thing in my life." You smiled sympathetically, you knew this was going to be a lot for him to take in.

"How old is she?"

"She's four going on fourteen. Sassy little madam at times."

It didn't take a genius to work out the timings, but Joe was still taken back and couldn't get the hint.

"She's definitely a cutie."

"Just like her dad." Joe glanced at you, his eyes filling with water, tears clung to his eye lids like his life depended on it.

"Wait what?" Joe whispered. You took his hand and lead him into the kitchen/dining area, sitting him down and making a drink of water for the both of you, god knows he needed it.

"Just shy of five years ago, we ended things for the last time Joe. We did what we did and then about a month later, I found out I was pregnant. She's yours Joe." He ran his fingers through his curls, his eyes boring into you like daggers.

"How do you know-"

"Can't you see it? She literally looks just like you. The eyes, the smile, the curls, her mannerisms. Everything about Madison is you. Whether you want to be a part of her life is up to you, we will tell her in good time, but please make the decision quickly because I don't want you to change your mind and break her heart like you did mine."

"Why didn't you tell me sooner?" He looked like he was gasping for air. Your hands that were laid flat on your dining table were now clutched by his, a small part of his lips and a single tear rolling down his cheek.

"I was scared Joe. But fate brought me to you yesterday and you needed to know the truth even if it is four years too late."

"All this time, after all this time..." Joe sniffled, tears of your own now matched the ones staining his cheeks.

"So you will?"

"Of course I will. I've never wanted anything more. It's a god damn shock don't get me wrong, but a surprise of the best kind and quite the relief that she's mine." Joe snorted a shy laugh and you returned it.

"You'd be blind not to notice that she wasn't yours."

"Madison..."

"Quinn, I gave her your last name. It was only right, even if you weren't there through it all. You're still her father."

"Has she never questioned it?"

"I think she's a little young to notice right now, but in time she would have and I would of told her the truth. But all in good time now, just get to know her at your own pace, she's very forthcoming with people, she'll love you."

Joe gave your hands a reassuring squeeze and a swift nod, getting up from the table and taking a head start into the living room. You took a long gulp of your water and a sharp sigh, smiling to yourself at the positive vibe you got from him, that he was willing to step up, that he was able to go through with this even though it was a shock to his system, for now it gave you such hope.

You tiptoed to the doorway of the living room, setting your sights upon Joe and Madison sat on the floor in front of the tv, she was showing him her favourite teddy bear, one she'd had since she was born, telling Joe all about it's backstory and that she took it everywhere.

"You can hold it if you want" she passed the bear over to Joe and he put it on his lap, cross legged they both turned their attention to the tv screen.

"This is my favourite, mummy watches it with me all the time. Will you stay and watch it with me Joe?"

"Of course I will." Joe smiled, feeling the presence of you behind him, turning his head round to shoot a smile your way, the softest most purest smile you'd ever seen.

You mouthed at him a thank you with a sweet grin in return, wiping a tear from your eyes as Maddie reached for the blanket at the side of her, offering Joe the corner of the small sheet. He gladly took it, their shared mannerisms shining through, you shook your head when you watched them tilt their head to the side in unison as if it were some form of telepathy. She was definitely her father's daughter.

Nothing could be certain of where you and Joe would head in the next chapter of your lives, whether it be a good friendship, or something that would go further, but sticking to your guns and focusing on the present was the best idea and the view of it was perfect from where you were standing.

#joseph quinn fluff #joseph quinn smut #joseph quinn imagine #joseph quinn x reader #joseph quinn x y/n

[tam-shade-song]

Platonic SoTam Band AU, anyone?

Tam laid on the bed with his finger intertwined on his stomach, the notebook beside him long since discarded. The top of his head was pressed against the outside of Sophi’s thigh as they sat upside down on the bed, their blond hair pooling on the floor below them like a river of gold.

He fidgeted with the hem of his shirt. Sophi, oblivious to his anxiety, hummed the melody to the bridge of the new song they were working on. Or at least they were. The two had long since gotten distracted, and conversation had turned into peaceful silence.But the atmosphere had started to shift from serenity to nervousness, and even Sophi had become aware.

“Do you think we’ll make it?” Tam asked his voice low. He pictured the sold-out concerts, the tours, all of their friends together, just them.

“Make it to what?”Sophi asked. “Adulthood?Graduation?” Looking back, it was really horrible that someone like Sophi should even have been concerned, but all honors classes didn’t mean much when it comes to the crushing reality of their situation.

Tam had been expelled from middle school, and had come to Foxfire looking for a fresh start. Sophi was a foster kid who had just been separated from the family she had known all their life. No matter the amount of As on their report card, it didn’t lift the heaviness from their shoulders, and mental health problems wasn’t something just left at the door.

Tam supposed that was why they found so much comfort in each other. Two trans kids in public school, two kids who felt like they were losing their minds. Even Tam didn’t feel the same with his twin sister, who at the end of the day would never understand the way he avoided mirrors and tight fitting shirts.

“I mean as musicians,” Tam said. Sophi snorted the lifted their hand. Tam pulled them up until they were both sitting crossed-legged on the bed facing each other.

“Yeah, I think so, Tam,” Sophi said. “Once Forkle finishes the papers and I’m officially a Ruewen, what’s going to stop us? Once we get you the hell out of that house, we’re free.”

“That does mean people will like our stuff,” Tam said. He fidgeted with his shirt, and pulled it forward. “No one likes us,” he added.

“I like us,” Sophie said. They had a wrinkle in between their brows with proved to Tam that they had the same fears and was just trying to hide it. “Linh likes us, Fitz likes us, Dex, Biana, Keefe-“

“Keefe doesn’t like me,” Tam rolled his eyes. “And that’s what I mean. I don’t doubt our music or our lyrics or even getting our shit out there. What if people just don’t like us for who we are?”

“Tam,” Sophi scolded. “Keefe does not… dislike you, one, and two, who gives a damn. I’m here for the people who will like us. Didn’t we think there was something wrong with us? Don’t we owe it to the kids who are like us? And don’t we owe it to our families? Do you want a boring ass day job you’ll hate, Tam? Or do you want to just be a fucking camp counselor forever? This is what we can do, to make our existence on this fucked up hell hole worth it.”

Tam sighed. And nodded. Then he picked up the guitar he had set on the floor and strummed a chord to make sure it was still in tune.

“Alright, then,” he said. “Let’s get to work.” The skin on Tam’s fingers was threatening to split as the already tender blisters were pressed against the wires, but he ignored it.

He only focused on the dream, the one thing left in the world, with the exception of his sister and Sophi, that he could still believe in.

———————————————————————

Tam pulled the bandaids off his sore fingers, and shook out his hands. Even after two years, he still got anxiety from concerts. Hell, even playing for anyone outside the band made him nervous.

“Tam, let me get a picture,” Biana said. Her glittery pink hijab reflected the light and made little sparkles on Tam’s shirt. “Get your bass.” The social medias manager made Tam take a few pictures before moving onto the other band members. “Good luck, Song.”

“You too,” Tam called over his shoulder. Biana had a way of putting everyone at ease, something Tam appreciated.

Tam took the roll of tape from his bag, and walked to the bathroom. Once the door was locked behind him, he started wrapping Rayni’s old lacrosse tape around his chest. At one concert, there would be dozens of photos, and Tam wouldn’t risk anyone noticing his chest or seeing the strap of his black binder.

There was a ding from his phone, and Tam went to check it. He inhaled as deeply as he could with the sticky tape would allow. It pulled at his skin, but he ignored it.

Don’t wear your binder, you’ll need to breathe. The message read, from Rayni. Tam sighed, and didn’t give a response.

Tam used to be afraid of his father, he used to be afraid of having to get an office job he would hate. Now he was afraid someone would find out he was trans. As soon as he turned eighteen he got his name changed, and before that he had done everything possible to stay out of the spotlight. It had been real shitty to watch everyone preform the song he wrote with Sophi, and to only exist behind a black medical mask or as a prerecorded bass riff. Now, he would everything in his power to make sure he never had to live in the shadows again.

Tam walked out of the bathroom, phone in hand. Outside Sophi tossed him a bottle of water.

“Here,” they said. They wore the same anxious expression Tam remembered from the day they first came into his homeroom. They still felt they owed the world everything, all the other kids with no homes.

“Let’s go,” Tam said. Fitz, the band manager, gave them the signal to go out.

Dex, Linh, Sophi, Tam and Keefe took their places on stage. Slowly, trying to hide his fear as much as possible, Tam started the song, ignoring the pain in his fingers and chest. Sophi took up the mic and began singing.

It was a song about acceptance, responsibility and faith. Wikipedia said the writer of the song was Tam Dai Tong, stage name Tam Song. But really, the song never would have existed if not for Sophi. Not just because the song was a narration of their life, but because without them Tam wouldn’t have been Tam Song in the first place. He never would have been able to live to be true to himself.

The tape around his chest made it hard to breathe, but he played on, growing increasingly light headed.

———————————————————————

Nine months and two singles later, Tam stared at the roll of pink tape in front of him. It hurt to breathe sometimes now. After a performance or rehearsal Tam’s back ached when he breathed heavily. Rayni freaked when she found out, the band’s photographer tried to drag Tam to a doctor then and there.

“You need to take care of yourself,” she stressed. “I know you’re trying to be true to yourself but your body won’t last this way.”

Tam had tried not to roll his eyes. He really had. Maybe he would have tried harder had he known what kind of face Rayni would make. He expected anger, not sadness. Seeing it made his fury rise, and tears also.

He went to Sophi, like always. He didn’t want to burden Linh with his problems, and because he was pissed at Rayni, she was out of the question. That left Sophi.

Over a call, one that Tam was barely paying attention too, Sophi irritably snapped at him, “You bitch about being true to yourself but your body is a part of you too. You can talk all you want about honesty, but you’re just a liar.”

Tam had stared at the blank screen.

And now he was there. In the bathroom, staring at a roll of tape. He cast it away from himself.

The bassist waited for Biana to make her rounds, foot tapping anxiously. Keefe snapped at him when he stared pacing.

“What don’t we know, Bangs Boy?” Keefe asked, ever the detective. Tam scoffed.

“You don’t know a lot of things,” Tam said. Wylie, the technical worker who did the lights, laughed. Stina, the stylist was pinning Keefe’s shirt raised a brow.

“Is this about…” she didn’t finish her question when Tam silenced her with a look. Linh probably told her everything, but even if she hadn’t there was a possibility she had come to her own, incorrect, conclusion.

Biana and Rayni were talking about posting pictures, but Rayni looked up and smiled.

Sophi just raised a brow knowingly.

The players filed out onto stage.

When the same song from the last concert played, Tam’s heart sped up. He could back out, and no one would know, except Rayni, Linh, and Sophi. Maybe some people would notice how his chest wasn’t as flat and they’d come to their own conclusion.

The song was almost up.

Tam broke a nail playing a chord, and it only made his nerves worsen.

When the song ended, Sophi searched through the crowd. Openly nonbinary, they made it a tradition to find someone in the audience with their flag and hand them a little trans or nonbinary flag or pin. When they found who they jokingly refured to as their “victim” they beckoned them closer and took a pin off their own shirt to hand to the audience member.

The crowd cheered. When Tam stepped forward, all he could do was hope the anxiety didn’t show on his face as he took the flag he had asked Stina to stitch for him out of scrap fabric, and waved it over his head.

He was trembling and his palms were sweating, but the transmasc flag waved proudly above his head, and he actually smiled. With tears at the corners of his eyes he walked towards the edge of the stage and searched the crowd. With raised hands there was a young kid, around fourteen, with a make shift he/him pin mad with the trans flag on graph paper.

Reaching so far he had to strain, Tam got it into the boy’s hand.

Sophi tossed Tam a mic, that he fumbled and dropped with quickly picked up. Clearing his throat, Tam tried to keep his voice steady as he said, “We won’t live in the shadows anymore.”

Tam laughed, pretended not to notice how his voice cracked and handed the mic back to Sophi. A new song played, with heavy bass and drums.

When it came for his part, the others got quiet while the bass riff was played, before coming back in.

#tw unsafe binding #platonic sotam #kotlc #kotlc fandom #kotlc headcanons #keeper of the lost cities #kotlc tam #not your shade pet #kotlc thoughts #kotlc fanart #sophie foster #kotlc sophie

[smusherina]

yard work - chapter 3 (regina george x reader)

fandom: Mean Girls (all media)

pairing: Regina George x OFC/Reader

summary: You'd been in the same class as Regina George since kindergarten. You'd lived on the same street even longer. Once upon a time, when life was sandbox disputes and who got the swing first arguments, you'd even been friends. Now, in junior year of high school, you doubted she even remembered you. The same couldn't be said about you. You definitely remembered her.

chapter 1 / chapter 2 / chapter 4

"So, have you heard of the new girl?" Regina asked, twirling a lock of hair on her finger.

You were still sitting on the couch several hours later. It was beginning to get dark.

"Caty Heron or something?"

"Cady, yes. What do you think of her?" Regina bit her bottom lip, sucking it and chewing at it in her mouth. Back when you were younger, her mom would've chastised her. Mrs George was lax about a lot of things, but she could not stand fidgeting. Nowadays, though, you doubted she had the heart to say anything negative to her daughter.

"I..." You tilted your head, thinking. "I don't really think of her. We're in the same calc class and she seems smart. Talks to Aaron a lot."

"Does she?" Regina narrowed her eyes and huffed. "I thought so."

"What? Don't tell me you're still hung up on Aaron Samuels. C'mon." You scoffed. "That dude, pretty as he is-" You knocked at your head. "All fluff, no substance. Hollow."

"Oh, because you would know so much about guys." Regina crossed her arms and stared at you petulantly.

"Yes, I would. I'm practically one of them." You shrugged nonchalantly. "By the way, shouldn't you get home?"

Regina didn't answer and just looked at you. You looked back, unsure of what she was thinking. You glanced around, wondering if you'd missed something.

"You're still- I mean, you're... A lesbian." She said slowly as if it were a curse word.

You laughed before answering. "Yes, Regina, I am still a lesbian. Just like I told you I was back then." You frowned. "Is there, like, a problem?"

"No." She said simply, but it didn't seem particularly truthful. "You don't know about what happened with Janis, then?"

"No, I just know she had to switch schools. Why, was it something you did?"

"No." Again, didn't seem too truthful. "I don't have a problem with you being a lesbian."

Clearly, she was uncomfortable talking about it. Still, something was off. You were almost certain Regina had had something to do with Janis leaving. She was probably lying to you.

"You're not going home for dinner then." Better to drop it for now. It wouldn't do either of you any good to push her. "Will your dad be mad?"

"As if he even notices I'm gone," She rolled her eyes, settling more comfortably on the couch. "He's always on the phone."

"I have frozen pizzas we could pop in the oven."

"I'm not eating that processed shit. We're ordering in."

"Reg, I can't order takeout 'til dad sends me more money."

"I'm paying, dummy, don't even worry about it." She pushed off the couch and walked to the kitchen. You trailed after her. "Where are the menus?"

"There should be some in the cabinet over there."

The evening turned to night with you two on the couch, chatting and eating pizza. The TV was turned on eventually. Adult Swim was playing some anime about cowboys in space, but neither of you was really watching.

You'd missed her so much. You didn't like thinking about it much, but that was the truth. You'd missed her for even longer than the two years you'd been officially cut off from her life. She'd started pulling away long before the silent treatment began. You didn't like thinking about how much it had hurt, how you'd felt your world go bleak when she rejected you. You'd never been one for confrontation, that was Regina's job, so talking to her about the why and how of it all had never felt like an option.

You'd eventually gotten the hint. And now, after all this time, after she had left you so easily, you were letting her back in just as easily. As if you were back in that time, sitting in the sandbox peacefully making castles when she came up behind you, pulled at one of your pigtails, and demanded you share your buckets and shovel. You were helpless against her force.

There was probably something deeply unhealthy about your friendship. She was probably only coming back because it was convenient for her. She wasn't interested in making amends- hell, she probably didn't even think there was anything to amend, in the first place.

This had been the way you two had been since forever. Her ploughing through anybody in her way, you clinging to her as she went, just as much of a victim and a perpetrator.

The Regina you missed was the impression of a girl, braces on her teeth, grass stains on her sundress, and laughter on her lips. The Regina that perhaps, maybe, probably was still hidden somewhere in her, but at the same time was just not her. Who she was now, who you were now, were so utterly different from back then.

Watching her face, illuminated blueish by the light from the TV, so much older but still soft and young, framed by naturally blonde hair but bleached a lighter shade, you made your peace. You were probably being way too dramatic about all this, but it felt like a big moment in your half-baked teenage brain. You would take her back every time. You would let her leave every time. You would stay in place while she explored the world, and if she deigned to come back, you'd be waiting.

"Hey, Reg," You said, quiet but not exactly a whisper.

"What?" She looked up at you, just bent over the coffee table grabbing another slice of pizza.

"I missed you." You said, so earnestly it sounded jarring to even your ears.

She scrunched up her nose. "'Cause I bought you pizza?"

"Yeah," You laughed. "That too."

If you hadn't been looking so closely, you might've missed the brief lapse in her armour. It was in the softening at the corners of her eyes, in the slackening of her face, the give in her spine. Something like affection, like she'd missed you too.

"You're a weirdo."

You only laughed more.

The moment passed and you continued eating and talking and watching TV. You must've fallen asleep at some point after Regina went to remove her makeup. Eventually, you couldn't tell when, you woke up to the sun shining through the blinds right into your eyes.

Shit. It was Monday. You pawed around yourself for your phone, flipped it open, and checked the time. Shit, indeed. You nudged Regina with your toe.

"Reg..." She didn't even stir. "Reg!" You pushed harder, causing her to groan and whine.

"What? Five... M're mins..." She mumbled into the cushion, curling up tighter.

"We're late for school, Reggie, c'mon we gotta go." You momentarily contemplated if it was worth even going in. Your dad would be busting a lung at the missed calc class anyway. But did you want to give him more reasons to yell at you? No, not really.

"I gotta go, c'mon." You moved towards her and really shook her.

"What?" She grumped at you. To be honest, it was really cute. She had dust around her eyes, sleep still lingering in her limbs. You'd touched her shoulder, covered by the knit blanket you'd given her last night, but you could feel how warm she was.

"School. It's Monday morning, sleepyhead."

It took no more than that for the reality to set in for her. Cursing up a storm and running around like a headless chicken, Regina tried gathering all her things that'd somehow ended up scattered around the night before. Her perfume was in the alcove by the front, her charger in the kitchen, hairbrush in the bathroom.

"Do you want a ride?" You asked before heading upstairs to change. Couldn't go to school in just Spiderman boxers.

"I have nothing to wear!" She screeched, glaring at you as if you'd caused this. She was the one who wanted to stay the night, jeez.

You held up your hands in surrender. "You can borrow some of my stuff."

"As if you have anything remotely fitting. You dress like a hobo." She said all that while climbing up the stairs past you, heading for your room. "A hobo with a liking to grunge music, nonetheless."

You walked after her, listening but not feeling the need to add anything. Once she got to your door and you went to follow, she whirled around.

"Uh, I'm gonna change." She sassed, though the intimidation was made less effective by the bareness of her face and the messiness of her hair. You smiled and gestured for her to go on.

"Be my guest." As if she needed the invitation.

To her credit, it didn't take long for her to pick something to wear, wash her face, and do her hair. In the meantime, you used the hallway bathroom to freshen up yourself. She stepped out wearing the same white tank top as the night before, over it a short-sleeve button-down in a glossy, satin black, and a black skirt she'd probably found at the very back of your closet. The button-down was neatly cinched around her waist and the skirt discreetly rolled up to be shorter than it really was.

The shirt was probably the nicest thing you owned. Something a relative had gotten you for your birthday. Versace or something like that.

"I'm going to have to go to school in sneakers, jorts." She pointed at you accusingly, leaning over threateningly where you sat on the floor. You looked up at her and just shrugged. What could you do?

She rolled her eyes and waved you away. You took the cue that it was your turn. You didn't bother closing the door behind you. Some wash jeans from the back of your desk seemed clean enough. You sniffed them just in case. Not too funky, but definitely not fresh. They'd have to do. You chucked the hoodie, sprayed on some deodorant, and replaced it with a short-sleeve flannel. You looked into the mirror and checked your hair was okay before grabbing your backpack.

"Okay, let's go." You turned to see Regina staring at you incredulously.

"That's it? That's your morning routine?" Leaning against the doorway, you couldn't help but notice she looked fantastic. It was a real talent of hers, looking so good all the time.

"Usually, I'd eat breakfast." You herded her out of the door. "Do you need to get your things?" She probably didn't have any of her school stuff.

"No, I didn't unpack my purse before coming here." She said, checking said bag as she did. "I'll do my makeup in the car, drive sensibly."

"Psh, as if you need to tell me. You're the speed demon, from what I've heard."

"There's nothing wrong with the way I drive, grandma."

"Until you get your license revoked, speedster."

Needless to say, Regina was not impressed by your 2001 Corolla. And though she complained the whole way to school, she still sat in the front seat, doing her makeup, there was no heat behind her words. You arrived in the middle of the third period. Nobody was out and about, much to Regina's relief. You parted ways with a wiggle of her fingers and a finger salute from you. You sat in the car for a moment, just breathing and thinking.

She didn't say thank you, didn't say she had a good time, didn't even bother pretending she'd enjoyed your company. It seemed like a relief she was finally getting away from you. Was that how she felt?

Now that your friendship had progressed beyond small talk while you worked and pleasantries over dinner, being ignored at school felt a lot more hurtful.

It was sobering, how she could goss and laugh with you on your couch and then act as if being seen with you in public was social suicide.

What made it feel even worse was that it was true. If Regina was seen hanging around you, god knows what the piranhas that were the student body would do. It would end with either or both of you ostracized or worse. Regina could bend minds and shift opinions like it was a superpower, but even she had her limits.

You got out of the car, locked it, and ambled towards Spanish class.

Notes:

Comment/reply to this post if you want to be added to the taglist.

Taglist: @autorasexy, @wedfan2, @unadulterated-moron, @modernsapphicism, @9unknown0, @sage-rose2000, @massive-honkas, @nattys-swiftie

#mean girls #mean girls 2004 #mean girls 2024 #mean girls x reader #regina george x reader #regina george #regina george x oc #regina george x ofc #lesbian regina george #regina george x you #wlw #mean girls fanfic #fic: yard work

[hatsunevitu]

do you ship Stary (Stan x Gary)?

oh my god ABSOLUTELY. for some reason i got reaaally into it and came up with an au of how they got closer. i’m not usually a fan of ships with one-episode characters, but stary is SO great. HOLD ON LEMME TELL YOU ABOUT THAT AU

okay, so, we all know how “all about mormons” ended and that we have never heard of gary after that, right? now just let’s imagine he stayed in the school, in the same class as stan and others, but visibly started to avoid the main four. he hung out with the “background kids” and mostly girls, because they all adored how nice he is.

it didn’t actually make any difference for main four – they still thought gary was lame and were not interested in talking to him since he’s not a new kid in the class anymore. they all didn’t really like him. except for stan.

stan couldn’t get the thought of gary out of his head for all the following years. he didn’t make any attempts to befriending gary again, because he knew guys wouldn’t understand and he was terrified of hearing rejection again, so he mostly just… kinda secretly looked through gary’s social media once a week (or more often) and sometimes watched him out of the corner of his eye in the classroom.

he saw that gary was doing pretty fine without him, so he didn’t wanna be an inconvenience, but the thought. the thought that he had missed his chance to be friends with one of the most sincere and comforting people in the whole school only because of the peer pressure.

but he didn’t thought he could have a chance to reconnect until he has heard that gary’s parents are getting a divorce and that the “perfect mormon house” secretly had its troubles. and then, as it was absolutely destined, after the lessons ended, he sees gary sitting in the classroom all alone with a blank expression on his face and tired look in his eyes. and without giving it a second thought he walks up to gary and asks if everything’s fine.

and they start talking. for an hour, if not more. stan know some shit about divorcing parents, troubles at home and an urge to drink to feel happy (which turned out to be gary’s problem too), so he know how to support him, and gary is such a great listener. they start with discussing gary’s family problems, then eventually they start remembering their first time seeing each other, and stan (unexpectedly for even himself) openly admits he regrets fucking up things with their friendship, and he has dreamed of finally talking to him again for, like, ages. and gary just genuinely smiles and takes his hand saying that they still have time for that.

eventually they hang out together more. with gary there isn’t a lot of crazy adventures, and stan, who’s got pretty sick of those, feels so relaxed while being with him. the only thing is that they mostly meet privately and secretly from the rest of the main four, because stan feels this irrational shame for being friends with someone they don’t like. it kinda upsets gary, but he doesn’t want to end their friendship because of the same reason it ended the first time.

so yeah, that takes them two or three months until stan finally realises the unpleasant truth – he doesn’t wanna be just friends with gary and his nearly-obsession with him for the last five years was more likely a behaviour of a person who’s desperately in love. fuck. he doesn’t confess his feelings to gary because he’s too scared of fucking thing up the second time.

and it seems to be working, but the more stan spends time with gary, the more love he feels, until one day he finally snaps and while one of their walks in the park he very awkwardly kisses gary, who (honestly) doesn’t really seem to mind it.

and stan, an example of bravery, apologises and runs away before gary has a chance to answer him properly. ‘cause stan’s a jerk and he’s panicking.

he’s not used to handling stressful situations by himself, so he calls kyle because he has no one else to talk to:

stan: Dude, I have a problem. A big one.

kyle: Woah what happened??? Do you want me to come to your place?

stan: I just kissed a dude.

kyle: Okay I knew I’d hear these words from you one day.

stan: WHAT DO YOU MEAN YOU KNEW.

kyle: Oh please–

stan: We’ll talk about it later.

kyle: Pff, sure, dude. So you’re gay? Is this a coming out? I’m really proud of you finally admitting it out loud and sharing this with me, you know I’ll always support you whenever you ne–

stan: It’s Gary Harrison.

kyle: What. The mormon kid????

stan: Yeah, we kinda… Hung out together in secret…

kyle: But you hated him???

stan: WELL IT TURNS OUT I DIDN’T.

kyle: So what do you call me for?

stan: Oh, right. I kinda… ran away after we kissed?…

kyle: WHY.

stan: I DON’T KNOW, MAN, I PANICKED.

so kyle as the most supportive friend ever first laughs at stan, then helps him to understand what to do next. (and totally tells about it to cartman)

and, well, it’s pretty long enough so i guess i’ll stop here, because the rest of it is pretty much the plot of any slowburn mlm 200k words fic lmao

so yeah. answering to your question: i love stary. a lot.

#south park #sp #stan marsh #gary harrison #sp stary #start #stan x gary #sp stan #sp gary