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sideprince · 2 days ago

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I would personally love to read your 30 page dissertation on privilege, bigotry, and misplaced abuse trauma 🙏

Haha, I haven't actually written it but challenge accepted! This ask is referring to a comment on this post, for reference. It goes without saying, as will become apparent in this post, that I condemn JK Rowling's bigotry and don't support her in any way. As always, TERFs will be blocked on sight so DBI (don't bother interacting).

OK, so.

A bit about Rowling

I'm going to try my best not to do any armchair diagnosing, and to stick with existing statements Rowling has made about her abuse and stance on feminism. A lot of Rowling's current bigotry and biases - her assertion of the gender binary in ways that uphold patriarchal power structures, her (upper?) middle class privilege blinders - are compounded by her abuse trauma in ways that perpetuate abusive behavior, but were also always present to some degree and made apparent in her approach to a number of characters in Harry Potter. This came up in a post about SWM and the sexual assault that occurs, and my reading of it as having been written to illustrate that Snape was unpopular in school, instead of as a condemnation of James and Sirius as bullies. I'm not the first to point out that Rowling wrote Snape unkindly, and she also speaks of him without sympathy and with judgment in interviews. This reveals a lot more problematic aspects of her thinking than it appears to at first glance, not to mention that this approach to writing a character is something I think is counterproductive and ultimately detrimental to the text.

Rowling grew up middle class, had an unhappy adolescence, and a strained relationship with her father. She went to the University of Exeter, which is basically where upper class kids who couldn't get into Oxford or Cambridge go, and where she says she did little schoolwork and spent a year studying abroad in Paris. This implies a fairly comfortable upbringing, especially as most students who are struggling financially are unable to afford doing a study abroad year (all of this information is on her wikipedia page, btw). She got married in a vulnerable state - having moved to Portugal after her mother's death and being laid off from her job - to an abusive man named Jorge Arantes. After she eventually left him, she claimed to have been very poor, moving to Edinburgh as a single mother.

Her description of poverty, however, involved writing at a cafe every day in Edinburgh, an expensive choice in an expensive city. Anyone on the dole (welfare) in the 90s wouldn't have been able to do that, nor someone living paycheck to paycheck and counting pennies. This is the idea of poverty of someone who's used to a solidly (upper???) middle class lifestyle (I spent time in Edinburgh during college and despite having worked alongside classes I could barely afford more than a coffee and maybe a biscuit at the local cafe if I went daily). Being a single mother is hard no matter what, acknowledment to that, but the press - and I think Rowling herself - played up the narrative of the poor, struggling mother living hand to mouth to romanticize her story. Writing at cafes sounds like the idea of poverty of someone who has a lot of privilege, but is a luxury to someone living in actual poverty, especially in England in the years after Thatcher.

There's a phenomenon known as "white tears" that anyone who's studied racism in the U.S. will be familiar with, of white women exploiting their social status positing themselves as vulnerable, ill fated victims in order to gain sympathy. There's a similar phenomenon in the UK, that I think Rowling turned to her advantage with her own narrative, leaning on her victimhood as a domestic abuse survivor and exaggerating her poverty in Edinburgh in order to build a sympathetic brand for herself. This served her as the author of a children's book series, and as the HP series was released, she ensured there were press events where she read to children, and was thus constantly perceived by the public through photos of her as the quintessential matriarch to young readers, the heroic mother and survivor who is perpetually surrounded by loving children looking up at her with admiration.

This became problematic when she began to weaponize this status she had built and turn it against trans people in order to perpetuate her personal bigotry. I can't say how much of this was deliberate and calculated, and how much of it was fed by radicalization and the psychological effects of fame such as entitlement and the inability to cope with differing opinions from her own. I also can't say how much of this has been a mis-directed projection of unprocessed abuse trauma, which can often perpetuate a cycle of abuse through victims who enact it on others because it's what they've learned to expect from the world and is therefore also the primary way they know how to interact with others (or rather that abuse victims struggle to regulate their emotions in healthy and constructive ways and often end up doing so in destructive - or even self-destructive - ones). What I can say is that there's a significance in her choice to publicly pursue a personal bias in the ways she has, and that she's consistently relied on her White Tears to dig her heels in, in the face of opposing viewpoints.

How is all this reflected in the HP books? I'll do my best to keep this reasonably brief.

Misplaced abuse trauma

The most obvious indications of unprocessed abuse trauma are the myriad examples of excused and under-rug-swept abusive behaviors throughout the books. To understand these we must first understand how abuse is perceived from the victim's perspective - and this can be difficult, because abuse is notoriously (and insidiously) difficult to understand the dynamics of if you haven't experienced it firsthand. It can be difficult to understand even if you have experienced it, and a lot of the work therapists do with abuse survivors is centered around this kind of processing.

All people struggle to see someone they love in a bad light, or as doing things that only "bad people" would do, and abuse victims are no exception. Abusive behavior gets excused because the person perpetuating it is framed by the victim as being justified in their actions (often by blaming themselves) or because they're perceived as a good person so they couldn't possibly do harm. It's a common misconception that abusers are bad, evil people - most of the time they're well liked people with a lot of friends, who are also emotionally damaged and have unhealthy tendencies to exert control over others in moments of emotional dysregulation. These moments usually happen behind closed doors, because even the abuser tends to feel ashamed of themselves when they happen (and obviously that doesn't excuse or justify their behavior in any way).

Abusers still love their children/partners/etc. and also have warm, loving moments where they bond with their victims. There's just also a power dynamic in which these moments primarily happen when it suits the abuser. Victims develop a mindset in which these moments are focused on and used to try to fill the painful gaps left by the bad moments, the ones where they're hurt emotionally or physically. Our brains rely on denial and selective memory to deal with trauma, so abusive behavior gets excused, downplayed, or ignored by being unprocessed and unaddressed. Until this trauma is processed in a healthy way and the survivor learns how to identify and deal with their experiences, they'll keep repeating and projecting them. How the trauma is processed affects not only the victim, but how they're perceived - if they show signs of trauma in unsympathetic ways that make others uncomfortable and ask them to have patience and empathy, they're a "bad victim." If they bear their trauma with grace and show minimal signs of it and don't make anyone uncomfortable, they're a "good victim." (Many abusers are, in fact, good victims outwardly, and bad victims in their home lives - which, again, doesn't justify or excuse their actions, but it does give an insight into how abuse trauma manifests.)

The tendency to downplay, excuse, or ignore abusive behavior shows up again and again throught the HP books. In PoA Sirius breaks Ron's leg in his determination to get Pettigrew - who's in Ron's pocket - into the Shrieking Shack. It's actually quite a violent moment, Sirius yanking Ron with force because his leg being stuck under a branch is keeping Sirius from being able to drag him into the tunnel. But once Harry realizes Sirius is not a mass murderer and accepts him as his godfather, there's no addressing of this casual violence. Sirius doesn't apologize to Ron, and it's Lupin who puts his leg in a splint* (never mind that Ron is then tied to Lupin who hasn't taken his potion at the full moon and this endangers Ron's life directly). The point here isn't Sirius' character, but how the narrative treats his actions - and Ron.

*Even though Sirius has his wand on him too, which is never really explained? How did he get his wand back? He wouldn't have been allowed it in Azkaban, so where did it come from? But I digress. That's a question for another post.

As soon as Sirius takes on the mantle of being Harry's godfather, his carelessness, violence, and the damage he caused are forgiven - much like how abuse victims will explain away their abusers' actions and minimize them. Ron doesn't show any signs of trauma after this incident, or any wariness of Sirius, which is unrealistic and uncharacteristic, but fits in with Rowling's writing style when you consider her projected abuse trauma and the mindset she's likely to be writing from as a result. Sirius does nothing to assure Ron that he won't hurt him again in the future. In fact, all he says to him is indirectly, in a letter to Harry:

“I thought your friend Ron might like to keep this owl, as it’s my fault he no longer has a rat.”

-Prisoner of Azkaban, Ch. 22

He doesn't acknowledge the harm he inflicted, nor does he apologize for his actions. Instead he gifts Ron an owl he found (which, off topic, is objectively funny - Sirius found an owl and just said "keep it I guess"). He clarifies this owl is meant to replace his pet who turned out to be a murderous traitor in disguise, but makes no mention of wanting to earn back trust. Again, this isn't about Sirius as a character, who's deliberately written with these flaws. My point is to highlight the ways that other characters react to him and how those behaviors seem to echo the reactions of an abuse victim to abusive situations, and the blinders they require for survival. Kind of like how we never see Ron confront the reality that he spent several years sharing his food, bed, and life with a 30 year old man in rat form. Egregious breaches of trust and safety are sidestepped silently, accepted, and ignored.

Again and again physical and verbal violence is addressed minimally or not at all in Harry Potter. Lupin has his turn when he argues with Harry in Deathly Hallows. Harry tells him to go home to his son instead of abandoning him, but Lupin is agitated and resistant to the idea, his behavior signifying that his trauma may be triggered.

‘I’d never have believed this,’ Harry said. ‘The man who taught me to fight Dementors - a coward.’ Lupin drew his wand so fast that Harry had barely reached for his own; there was a loud bang and he felt himself flying backwards as if punched; as he slammed into the kitchen wall and slid to the floor, he glimpsed the tail of Lupin’s cloak disappearing round the door. -Deathly Hallows, Ch. 11

Lupin never apologizes or acknowledges he was wrong to do this, and the closest he gets to it is a passive aggressive statement on the radio that he has no way of knowing was actually heard by Harry:

‘And what would you say to Harry if you knew he was listening, Romulus?’ ‘I’d tell him we’re all with him in spirit,’ said Lupin, then hesitated slightly. ‘And I’d tell him to follow his instincts, which are good and nearly always right.’

Deathly Hallows, Ch. 22

Again, the point here isn't to discuss Lupin's character, but that the author has chosen to skim over his violence and continue to write him as heroic without him having to take responsibility for his actions. We're meant to empathize with his trauma and continue to see him as a sort of parental figure, but there's no exploration or acknowledgment of how it might affect Harry that the last remaining friend of his father's, his once favorite teacher, enacted violence on him the second Harry challenged him, and how this might have triggered Harry's own abuse trauma after enduring years of violence at the Dursleys. There's merely a dramatic moment that results in assault, that is then skirted past, unaddressed, and the narratives simply moves on. It feels like the literary equivalent of a fighting couple where one partner hits the other, and instead of apologizing they just go back to business as usual once they've calmed down; the argument is never resolved, just swept under the rug with all the others ones like it.

Harry, meanwhile, is an abuse victim who bears no mark of it. The Dursleys abuse him emotionally as a matter of course, starve him on numerous occasions, there are clear implications that Vernon is physically violent with him, as is Dudley, to the point where Harry is socially isolated because Dudley's gang intimidates anyone who might want to be his friend. This also prevents any outsiders from getting close enough to Harry to recognize the abuse and calling CPS on the Dursleys. They aren't taken to task by anyone, unless you count Dumbledore's passive aggressive hint to them about keeping Harry in a cupboard, or the threat from the Order that's given at the end of the OoTP:

‘We thought we’d just have a few words with you about Harry,’ said Mr Weasley, still smiling. ‘Yeah,’ growled Moody. ‘About how he’s treated when he’s at your place.’ Uncle Vernon’s moustache seemed to bristle with indignation. Possibly because the bowler hat gave him the entirely mistaken impression that he was dealing with a kindred spirit, he addressed himself to Moody. ‘I am not aware that it is any of your business what goes on in my house -‘ ‘I expect what you’re not aware of would fill several books, Dursley,’ growled Moody. ‘Anyway, that’s not the point,’ interjected Tonks, whose pink hair seemed to offend Aunt Petunia more than all the rest put together, for she closed her eyes rather than look at her. ‘The point is, if we find out you’ve been horrible to Harry -‘ ‘- And make no mistake, we’ll hear about it,’ added Lupin pleasantly. ‘Yes,’ said Mr Weasley, ‘even if you won’t let Harry use the fellytone -‘ ‘Telephone,’ whispered Hermione. ‘- Yeah, if we get any hint that Potter’s been mistreated in any way, you’ll have us to answer to,’ said Moody. Uncle Vernon swelled ominously. His sense of outrage seemed to outweigh even his fear of this bunch of oddballs. ‘Are you threatening me, sir?’ he said, so loudly that passers-by actually turned to stare. ‘Yes, I am,’ said Mad-Eye, who seemed rather pleased that Uncle Vernon had grasped this fact so quickly.’

-Order of the Phoenix, Ch. 38

Of course, this doesn't happen until Harry is almost 16 and only a year away from getting out of Privet Drive anyway. Yet Harry has no anxiety, no panic attacks, no social anxiety, and shows no triggered behavior. Even after Cedric dies he has very limited PTSD symptoms. The only time he acts out is in OoTP, and his behavior is explained away by the realization that Voldemort has been sharing his mind, and so his short fuse and "bad victim" behavior is attributed to a kind of possession, and not his own psyche. Harry is the fantasy of an abuse victim - the sympathetic orphan who bears no scars of his trauma. He's patient, bears his abuse with grace, and if anything he responds to it with cleverness and snark that endears the reader to him. He's a "good victim," but almost goes beyond that: Harry is almost a kind of projected fantasy of an abuse victim who wishes they could live their life and be themselves without the inherent trauma and its effects, even while continuing to be traumatized.

It's a recurring theme with a lot of characters that violence and emotional abuse/manipulation is excused and unresolved as a matter of course. Harry is shocked when he sees his dad and Sirius assault Snape in SWM, but he goes back to putting his father on a pedestal quickly, and without processing his feelings, while his empathy for Snape is short lived. Hagrid spends most of OoTP getting violently assaulted by Grawp but he doesn't mind it because he loves his brother, who's just big and stupid and can't help it ¯\_(ツ)_/¯. Hagrid also has a dysfunctional relationship with Harry and his friends, who he endangers on numerous occasions, and who have to take care of him when he's drunk or unable to manage his emotions and makes bad choices, despite being children. It's an imbalanced relationship in which Harry is often unsafe and required to do the emotional labor of an adult. Dumbledore exploits Harry's entire existence, as well as Snape's, but he only apologizes to one of them and even then just barely.

The list goes on an on, and the dynamic is always the same: the character perpetuating the violence is alleviated from blame or responsibility by the narrative overlooking their faults and skimming over their damaging actions. It's also worth noting that many of the characters who perpetuate abuse are parental figures to the protagonist (Sirius, Lupin, James, Dumbledore, Hagrid, the Dursleys), because it's hard not to feel like there's some degree of personal projection going on here on the author's part. The way the writing justifies and avoids addressing the dysfunction and abuse in these relationships is almost like a parallel for the battered partner/child who says it was their fault for saying or doing the wrong thing and they should know better and the abuser doesn't really mean it, they're very sensitive and can be so loving and, and, and.

SWM is interesting in that it seems to be the pinnacle of how Rowling sees Snape and characters like James and Sirius. Even in The Prince's Tale we barely see why Snape and Lily were "best friends," not just Cokeworth buddies, because as an author she viewed Snape's role as utilitarian to the story but without sympathy for him. SWM was about establishing that Snape was a loser; feeling sorry for him was incidental, and more about Harry's own character development, which ultimately doesn't even follow that thread through. James and Sirius weren't written in that scene to be exposed as abusive bullies, but to be shown as the cool kids in a British grammar school, the handsome privileged boys at the top of the social ladder.

What's fascinating about Rowling's writing of Snape is that she seems to project a lot of her own abuse trauma onto him but has continuously expressed a clear dislike of him both in her approach to writing him and in interviews. The text alludes to his difficult childhood and abusive father, which Rowling has confirmed in interviews, and through the Wizarding World website where it's stated that Snape's father "didn't hold back when it came to the whip" (and while Wizarding World and Pottermore aren't always reliable sources for canon material, they do have a vetting process so if something is stated as fact it tends to be canon, as opposed to content that's qualified by statements like "possibly" or "might be" etc. which denote them as unverified theories). Snape also displays triggered behavior in situations that evoke his trauma, such as in the Shrieking Shack in PoA and when Harry tries to hit him with a Levicorpus in HBP. All this to say, Snape is a character who is written as having survived abuse at home, assault at school, and who bears clear markers of trauma.

With all this in mind, he was written unkindly. I don't necessarily mean how he's consistently described as ugly and dark in ways that recall prejudiced gothic tropes of the demon lover, or the ways the reader is meant to see him through the biased lens of Harry, whose eyes we see the story through. Snape was written with no empathy, and as someone who is completely alone in the world. Even Dumbledore, the person whose trust he works to gain, and who he trusts, betrays and exploits him mortally. When Harry sees Snape's memories at the end of DH, there's nothing in there that shows he was ever lovable, or his vulnerability and path to radicalization, or that Lily loved him as the best friend she said he was to her. Even when he's sacrificed his life and it's revealed to the reader that he's done so, and done it in the service of love - the central theme of the HP books - he's not granted the grace of being shown as having any redeeming qualities, except that he loved Lily deeply enough to dedicate his life to protecting her son (and grew to believe in Dumbledore's cause in the process), but this love is shown only through regret after her death, not through any expression of it during their friendship.

The opposite of Harry as the "good victim," Snape is the "bad victim," the abuse survivor who is defensive, unfriendly, unkind, and reflects a socialization that absorbed all he was taught through mistreatment. Ultimately, the good vicitim is good because their trauma doesn't burden others with its visibility, and Snape is the bad victim because his trauma asks patience and understanding of others while he struggles to show kindness and grace. He runs to help when he hears a scream upstairs, he tells Dumbledore "only those I could not save," but he's outwardly unkind and at times downright hostile, which means the reader has to put in critical thought and analyze the text before being able to extend him sympathy. In short, he takes work, which makes him a bad victim. This is also why so much of the larger fandom harbors a vitriolic hatred for him and feels absolved of having to put that work in.

And while there's a lesson in there that even the surliest of people can turn out to be brave and have an immeasurable capacity for love, the narrative still shows no interest, even in his deepest relationship, in Snape as a person who his best friend had affection for beyond being her only source of information about Hogwarts, or as someone Dumbledore saw more in than a clever and gifted wizard who could serve his cause. There's no curiosity in the writing when it comes to Snape, no kindness toward him, and Rowling has shown time and again that she still judges him.

What's interesting about this is that Snape is also the character who the most trauma and abuse seems to be heaped on, despite Harry's journey, and all of these aspects of him seem to be unaddressed, and if they're ever touched it has no real impact or affect on the characters or the narrative. It's almost like Rowling projected her worst trauma onto him and then resented him for representing her experiences. I would posit that perhaps what she really dislikes about Snape is that he's a representation of her own unprocessed trauma, of the ugly parts of trauma that are messy and painful, but I feel that's getting a bit too close to armchair psychoanalyzing so I'll leave that thought there and let you come to your own conclusions.

Privilege

The structure of the world in which Harry Potter exists relies on privilege. Wizards are a privileged group, singled out by their genetic advantage which gives them the ability to make their lives easier, and which most of them feel entitled about. They live in secret to protect themselves from having to use these abilities to help muggles, and because muggles would likely exploit them - of course most wizards also look down on muggles with condescension for their lack of magic (and ultimately we're talking about a bunch of Brits, so exploiting others and condescension is baked into the culture anyway). Added to this baseline social structure that is built on wizarding privilege is the character of Harry, who doesn't just learn that he's part of this privileged group, but that he's singled out as special among them. As soon as he's brought into the magical world, he's shown his Gringotts vault which is full of gold, so he also enjoys the privilege of wealth as soon as he learns he's doubly special.

There's yet another layer, which is the class dynamics within the wizarding world, which hinge on inherited privilege, ie. the privilege that comes with being pureblood or half-blood vs. being muggleborn. As Rowling works through this aspect of world building, she's consistently focused on the variety of ways her protagonist enjoys privilege. Moreover, in a series where the world-building is often half-baked and not thought through, an incredible amount of the work she did do is focused around establishing class dynamics and approaching them with a focus on privilege. This feels inherently British in some ways, though it does also challenge class systems to some degree.

Except that the class system remains intact at the end of the series. Voldemort is defeated as a villain, but his ideas of blood status aren't. The evil Harry fights against is a specific antagonist, not his ideas, and not the class dynamics that inform the variety of privileges he himself enjoys as a pureblood wizard with generational wealth. House elves aren't liberated, and are ultimately not only content to remain slaves, but fight alongside wizards and preserve the system that oppresses them. That itself is a signifier of Rowling's unchecked privilege: that she takes a local myth - house elves - in which magical creatures help with housework in exchange for milk/some kind of payment, co-opts this myth for her story and changes the terms of these creatures to be a deeply unethical one where they're neither working voluntarily nor paid but are instead enslaved. Most importantly, she posits that most of them are happy to be enslaved - and what reeks of privilege more than the idea that slaves enjoy their situation? It's a narrative that serves the enslaver and disenfranchises the enslaved even further.

Rowling's own class privilege is also reflected in how she writes poverty. For example, the Weasleys are consistently described as poor, but they actually seem to be doing alright. They have a lot of children, so most of their annual expenses like school supplies are secondhand, but that's pretty normal in a lot of families, even middle class ones. Mrs. Weasley is a stay at home mom who could be working if she wanted to, but in Rowling's determination to write Molly as quintessentially matriarchal, she overlooked this fact, the result being that the Weasleys seem to have a tight budget but don't seem to actually be poor. They own a large home and land around it, live comfortably as a single income household, and it's even mentioned in DH that of the trio it was Ron who struggled the most with scrounging for food when on the run, because he'd spent his whole life enjoying delicious, consistent, filling meals at home, not just at school.

Harry, meanwhile, is noted as thinking that he would happily give the Weasleys all the gold in his Gringotts vault, but knows they'll never accept it - and he leaves it at that. It's not until he gives his TriWizard winnings to Fred and George at the end of GoF that he tells them to get Ron new dress robes. Before that, he doesn't use any opportunity to give the Weasleys any gifts - in fact, while we see Harry give Ron and Hermione thoughtful Christmas gifts in the later books, there's no allusion to him giving them birthday gifts like they give him, or of him giving Molly or Arthur Christmas gifts despite always receiving them, including a hand-made family jumper. Despite growing up with so little, Harry is written as feeling an understandable excitement at receiving gifts, but it doesn't occur to him to give back - or rather it doesn't occur to Rowling, as the author, that a boy who comes from having nothing, who now has a vault full of gold, would think of using it to make others happy as they've made him. Despite her writing Harry's entire character arc to hinge on his willingness to sacrifice himself, this aspect of him gets overlooked when it comes to making the best of his privilege in his interpersonal relationships by thinking of others. Unsurprising once you consider that she claimed that writing in cafes was an experience of poverty after having studied at Exeter, and how her own privilege might inform how she approaches her characters and their choices (or lack thereof).

The subject of poverty in HP is laced with unconscious bias. The Weasleys are described as poor but have all they need, own land, and have the safety net of a wealthy family to fall back on. Like with Harry's character, there is, essentially, a moralism reflected in their comfort - they're good people, therefore they are comfortable, just as Harry is a good person, therefore wealth is bestowed on him that he didn't earn. In contrast to this is Snape, who grew up in a slum in an abusive home (and while poverty doesn't guarantee abuse, it's often traumatic and trauma inhibits emotional regulation which can lead to abuse). He bears the physical signs of poverty, such as poor hygiene and poor health (yellowed teeth, pallid skin), is unlikeable, lonely, and doomed by the narrative. Snape, while being described with these markers, is judged negatively and harshly both by Harry and James in their own times, as well as by the author herself who, despite having said that he's heroic and morally grey, has also said that Snape is a "deeply horrible person."

Just as Harry's virtue is signalled through his inherited wealth, Snape's markers of poverty establish him first as a foil in PS, then as an antagonist for the rest of the series. Each time Snape acts antagonistically, he's described with the physical traits that are meant to make the reader judge him - his teeth, greasy hair/face, pallid skin - without any seeming awareness that these are markers of class and his poverty (hygiene would have been a weekly, not daily practice growing up in a Midlands slum in the 60s, not to mention limited access to dental care). It's this lack of awareness that shows Rowling's own unaddressed privilege, and reeks of the well-cared-for middle class child who ostracizes the kid on the playground who wears visibly secondhand clothes, doesn't have the cool new toy, brings a "yucky" lunch instead of buying it in the cafeteria, etc. (much like how James and Sirius ostracize Snape).

It's also unnecessary for Harry's virtue to be signalled through his inherited wealth the way it is (ie. that his being special is emphasized by his access to a vault full of gold, or that this is metaphorically a reward for being a good person in a very Cinderella story kind of way). We learn in HBP (through Dumbledore's memory of first meeting Tom Riddle) that Hogwarts has a fund for students who can't afford supplies, and as a orphan hero it would have been more compelling for Harry to rely on this fund and add "charity student" to the list of things that set him apart from his peers and challenge him. Instead, Rowling goes out of her way to justify writing Harry with middle class privilege, perhaps because she doesn't really know how to write a character living with the realities of being in a lower socioeconomic class. It can't even be argued that Harry's Gringott's vault is a plot device to enable him to go to school, because there's a system in place for students in his position that could easily have sidestepped it. Speaking of being unable to write characters living in actual poverty: this also shows that the Weasleys aren't really poor, because we see them go to Diagon Alley to buy school supplies each year, instead of relying on the Hogwarts fund. This reiterates, again, that the Weasleys aren't really poor, they're more likely lower middle class, and that their supposed poverty is more about virtue signalling, but so is their comfort despite how poor they're meant to be. This profound lack of understanding of what it means to truly be poor, and the judgment with which the only character who experiences true, abject poverty is written with, reflect the author's own privilege and lack of experience outside the sphere of the middle class.

Bigotry

What's interesting about Rowling's idea of bigotry as seen through her choices writing HP is that she shows both a profound lack of understanding of systemic racism and that she has pretty strong biases of her own that are rooted in bigotry. The class system she writes wizards as having is based in a parallel of racism, but when the stakes get raised it stays pretty two dimensional and there's no indication that Rowling did any research into the social and political histories the Death Eaters and Voldemort are meant to allude to.

If I'm honest this subject could be its own separate post, but briefly: Rowling seems to have been writing a parallel for fascism, but in the process doesn't appear to have researched it. While the fascist - Voldemort - surreptitiously sows chaos and mistrust, the propaganda machine is established by the legitimate government he eventually overthrows (which is intended to be democratic, although we don't much see it in practice - it certainly doesn't seem to be a representative democracy, in any case). Although we see conflicts between students, they're very clear cut and lack nuance: there's no confusion or moralism. Most crucially, there's no real reason to exploit or oppress the targeted minority group, other than bigotry: wizards don't have that much to gain from oppressing or killing muggles, because they're outnumbered, and the effort of it outweighs the benefits. For every fascist dictator's bigotry there's a root of exploitation, whether its seizing wealth, exploitation for labor, or both. Rowling clearly doesn't fully understand the parallel she's writing, doesn't understand politics or political systems nearly as well as someone whose story centers their importance should, and hasn't done her research.

And while it seems noble that she nevertheless wrote a protagonist fighting against bigotry, she also displays a fair bit of it herself. There are the obvious issues, like how tokenized and unresearched her minority characters are, such as Cho Chang, the Patil twins, or even Anthony Goldstein, not to mention that Nagini's backstory of an Asian woman enslaved as a pet by a British man is a whole other mess of internalized biases, and that's the more generous interpretation. Then there are the anti-semitic tropes that the Gringotts goblins are steeped in, from their hooked noises and double-crossing to their fixation on money. And, of course, there's Seamus Finnigan, the Irish kid whose penchant for explosions is hard not to read as a deliberate allusion to the IRA.

Rowling also seems to be fatphobic, with a narrow view of femininity. As with Snape, she often uses physical descriptors to denote whether or not a character is sympathetic.

“Uncle Vernon was large and neckless, with an enormous black moustache; Aunt Petunia was horse-faced and bony; Dudley was blond, pink and porky.”

-Chamber of Secrets, Ch. 1

Vernon and Dudley Dursley, both males, are described as fat, almost comically. A couple of books later, Dudley will be described as having:

“finally achieved what he’d been threatening to do since the age of three, and become wider than he was tall.”

-Goblet of Fire, Ch. 3

This is physically impossible, of course, but Dudley is described as having three main traits: being fat, being a bully, and being stupid, the first always preceding any of the latter descriptors.

Aunt Petunia, on the other hand, is described as very skinny - she's an antagonist (or an aunt-agonist, if you will), and so her "bony" frame and "horse-face" indicates that she is not feminine, a signal that she's antagonistic and not maternal. Conversely, Vernon's sister Marge, a woman who is so un-maternal as to not even have children, is described as masculine:

“She was very like Uncle Vernon; large, beefy and purple-faced, she even had a moustache, though not as bushy as his.”

-Prisoner of Azkaban, Ch. 2

Malfoy's cronies Crabbe and Goyle are similarly described as big and stupid, and it's worth noting that there's a consistency in Rowling's fatphobia being primarily directed at overweight men, specifically because it reveals a lot about her attachment to gender norms that Aunt Marge is the only woman described as large (did Rowling get inspired by Pee-Wee's Big Adventure? Unclear). She's also unmarried and childless, ie. hasn't fulfilled society's expectations of a woman, breeds dogs in the country, and is the only woman described as having explicitly masculine features including a moustache and looking strikingly similar to her brother. The more matriarchal a woman is in Harry Potter, the more kindly the narrative looks on her, and the less so she is, the more antagonistic she is.

Because the women in Harry Potter are either virtuous mothers or wicked stepmothers - or rather just wicked, with their childlessness standing in for the trope of stepmotherhood because these books are set in modern times, after all. Aunt Petunia, Aunt Marge, Bellatrix Lestrange, Rita Skeeter, and Dolores Umbridge are all either antagonists or outright villainous characters, none of whom are maternal and only one of whom has a child at all - and there's special emphasis put on Petunia's failure as a parent when Dumbledore points it out overtly. In contrast, Molly Weasley and Tonks are sympathetic women who are mothers - or rather, Molly is profoundly maternal and Tonks becomes a mother towards the end of the series and dies heroically. Kind of like the angelic mother figure on a pedestal that is Harry's own self-sacrificing mother, Lily. Even Narcissa Malfoy is redeemed because despite being an antagonist, she's first and foremost a mother concerned for her son's safety (she's also the only person we see in Voldemort's circle who isn't branded with the Dark Mark, and the lack thereof is a sort of virtue signal unto itself). There's a clear bias against women who aren't mothers/are bad mothers, and in favor of women who are mothers and exhibit maternal behavior.

In Harry's generation we see a similar bias in that there are girls who are sympathetic and others who aren't. Hermione and Ginny are sympathetic, in a very "not like other girls" kind of way. They're not emotional, most of their friends are boys, and they eschew femininity except for rare occasions like the Yule Ball. It's mentioned especially that when Harry breaks up with Ginny, she's unsentimental enough not to cry because she grew up with older brothers, and that this is a positive trait. Conversely, characters like Lavender Brown and Parvati Patil are silly and flighty, unconcerned with anything except Divination and boys, with Lavender fawning over Ron in overly feminine ways that become a caricature of a misogynistic depiction of a teenage girl. When she does eventually die heroically in the Battle of Hogwarts, it's mentioned only in passing. Fleur Delacour is vain and haughty, comes in last in the TriWizard tournament, and is an un-virtuous flirt who goes off into the rose bushes with her Yule Ball date and makes eyes at Bill Weasley. It's only after she gets married that she becomes more sympathetic (and while yes, she earns respect before then for not loving Bill less after he's attacked by Greyback, it really isn't until after their wedding that the trio and Ginny stop judging her). She also becomes less relevant to the story, with little to contribute when the trio stay at Shell Cottage.

In short, Rowling perpetuates the sexist trope of representing women as angels or villains (and at times there's a sense that if the target demographic weren't children, she would outright make it the angels/whores trope instead, as is evidenced - among other things - by the reveal in Cursed Child that Bellatrix had an extra marital affair with Voldemort Which I still don't buy. Voldemort would never have allowed himself to engage in something that required any vulnerability from him, like sex, but I digress). What Rowling also perpetuates is a Thatcherian idea of feminism, in which female empowerment boils down to the emulation and adoption of the patriarchal power structure. It doesn't seek to overthrow the patriarchy, but instead to become it. It doesn't seek to dismantle a sexist social system, it just resents being on the side of the oppressed and wants, instead, to be the oppressor. There was an interesting post recently that broke down female representation in HP through the use of the color pink that really hit the nail on the head of how traditional femininity is looked down on by the narrative, and how female empowerment is equated with embracing traditionally masculine traits (the irony of this kind of feminism and how its entrenchment of patriarchal value systems inherently requires participants to emulate the kind of gender bending that it condemns trans people for is mind bogglingly hypocritical, frankly).

This, of course, feeds directly into Rowling's current pet bigotry: her transphobia. Because transphobia relies on and reinforces the patriarchy, by upholding traditional gender roles and punishing anyone who deviates from them. It also posits women as helpless victims of the masculine violence that men can't help but enact because it's supposedly in their nature. Of course, all of this is gender essentialist nonsense. It also achieves the goal of Thatcherist feminism without acknowledging that it does so: in this ideology, women see themselves as oppressed, but simultaneously leverage their oppression - through white tears - in order to oppress others. Because while they continue to buy into patriarchal social structures, their only option is to fight to get as close to the top as possible, and to step on others to maintain their position. And that requires bigotry. Once you've accepted the gender essentialist nonsense and begun to actively entrench yourself in misogynistic perspectives that reinforce the patriarchy, you've bought into the bigotry that oppresses you, and that's a gateway to all the other kinds of bigotry you have to buy into in order to convince yourself of the validity of your actions when all common sense, logic, and basic ethics are telling you otherwise (which is also why TERFism is often a pipeline to neo-naziism and requires radicalization).

The groundwork for this was already laid in Rowling's value system even before she was radicalized as a TERF. We can see in the way SWM was written that she already lacked empathy for male victims of patriarchal violence. Snape is written as feminine-coded, and given James' characterization as a handsome jock whose main actions in the narrative are that he died to protect his wife and child and that he assaulted another student to attract the attention of the girl he likes, I think there's a reasonable reading of SWM as an enforcement of patriarchal norms and gender conformity. The point of that scene was to show the reader that James was at the top of the social hierarchy and Snape was at the bottom, specifically in a way that represents social dynamics in a British grammar school setting. Those dynamics also serve to enforce patriarchal power structures and gender norms, and the most cursory research on them will lead to countless works of literature and film that elaborate on the rampant homophobia in these institutions and their lifelong impact on queer boys and men. Whether or not Rowling was aware of what she was doing, the violent enforcement of patriarchal norms, and the doling out of punishment to anyone who doesn't live up to them, is baked into the dynamic between James and Snape in SWM.

In her own biased view of Snape (as expressed in interviews etc.) Rowling wears on her sleeve her lack of empathy for male victims of patriarchal violence, which isn't surprising when you consider that her own gender politics center not only women, but specific women - women like her. TERFism harms more than just trans women, it also demands that women who don't emulate a specific idea of femininity also take a hit for the sake of gatekeeping trans people out of society, like women who have hormonal imbalances or were born intersex or eschew gender norms in even the most basic way (ie. even the middle aged suburban mother who keeps her hair short and wears jeans and hoodies because she's tired). This kind of thinking twists itself into knots only to reinforce gender norms that serve patriarchal power structures - the same structures that are represented by James when he assaults Snape, whose very character is written to be antithetical to them. Rowling is entrenching these gender norms through her lack of empathy for Snape in both her writing, and the views of him she's expressed publicly, and that perspective directly informs her radicalization and subsequent commitment to the specific kind of bigotry she puts so much money and energy into funding.

In conclusion

Privilege, bigotry, and misplaced abuse trauma inform Rowling's writing throughout the HP books, and coupled with the radicalization she was primed for, are apparent in her current personal politics. Her bigotry is essentially a cop out, however. It's an oversimplified view that focuses on men as a whole and posits them all as inherently violent and oppressive, instead of acknowledging the existence of the anthropological concept of the patriarchy as a social system that disenfranchises anyone who doesn't conform to its standards, including men. This also allows Rowling to dig her heels in on an ideology that ultimately supports patriarchal power structures despite its insistence on being feminist. British feminism is different than American feminism in that it seeks to perpetuate the existing power structure and co-opt it in women's favor, as opposed to seeking social equality. Unsurprising in a country with an ancient class system that relies on everyone accepting their place in it.

The idea of upsetting the power structure isn't acceptable in British culture, and the only tolerated progressive idea is to change who's at the top of it. Rowling's TERFism allows her to absolve herself of sympathy for how this affects trans people, queer people, and even men. To some degree it's understandable for an abuse victim to not have the emotional spoons or simply not have the will to understand their abuser (or someone who represents their abuser in their mind). Extending that to all men indiscriminately is bigoted, judgmental, and upholds patriarchal ideas of men as inherently stronger, more powerful, and predatory (and subtly reinforces the idea of penetrative sex as an act of dominance and violence). It doesn't acknowledge the power dynamics at the core of Western society and instead focuses on vulnerable groups like trans people and anyone who doesn't conform to gender norms in ways that make public life dangerous for anyone who doesn't live up to the established norms. Rowling could choose not to engage with any of this, and in doing so she's also perpetuating cycles of abuse in ways that reflect unprocessed trauma, but do so on a massive scale instead of keeping it in the home.

Patriarchy is violent to men as well as women, but Rowling's bigotry allows her to justify ignoring this. Looking through this lens at how she approached writing the HP books, the choices she made in her approach to characters like Snape or even Harry, we can see the seeds of this mindset and how it was exploited by radicalization - ironic given that everything she wrote into Snape's character indicates he was also a vulnerable, abused youth whose vulnerability was exploited to radicalize him into a fascist cult. In many ways, Snape is the character who Rowling's own experiences are closest to (domestic abuse, radicalization, being bullied), but perhaps she's so judgmental of him because he represents the parts of herself she is still unable to confront.

#asks #existentialrin #@existentialrin I'm sorry this took me so long to answer and also thank you it kept me distracted and marginally sane on election night #on a related note sfkljhskfhawehfksljfhsahohgodohgod #anyway sorry not sorry for the length I said 30 page dissertation and this is probably a third of that so you can't say I didn't warn you

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sysig · 1 year ago

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When you weren’t looking (Patreon)

#Doodles #Adventure Time #Marceline #Fionna and Cake #Simon Petrikov #Just casually crying at my own art while I make it no biggie #Just ahhhh they do love each other! They want what's best for each other! But they missed each other so much!! And they still are!!#Both that they miss each other in the sense that they're lonely while together - Simon's Marceline was a child and Marcy's Simon was well #Not Ice King but also kinda yeah - and she'll never see him again #It's gotten be bittersweet #It's good that he has his mind! Very good! But he is forever un-changed/re-changed #I think it's canon that Simon was returned to being in his early 30s because Golb ate his age post him getting the crown?#It's not a retcon obviously lol but it's like his future has been retconned canonically in himself that's Gotta feel weird #But it basically undid the Simon that Marceline knew - the man who raised her was un-done even though they both remember him #Both of them just have to not think too hard about it probably :')#But even not thinking about that - Simon is still getting older! He's aging like a normal human again! And everything that comes with that #I love his crow's feet a lot <3 And his hair streak is so chic how did his genes know he would look so cute haha ♪#Poor both of them - I do want them to be happy! They've just got so much sad!#I also think it's quite funny that all those years ago before I watched AT Marceline was the one fanart I made haha - the more things change #Still drawing her! I wonder if younger me would be surprised #I like her short hair :D Her long hair is lovely - all her hairstyles are lovely! - but the short hair is so cute #Really reminds me of her kid hairstyle ;u; I'm sure that doesn't hurt Simon at all haha #I draw it a lot like Tala's hairstyle as well haha - it's The Kid hairstyle!

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deoidesign · 7 months ago

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I love Time and Time Again!! It was genuinely interesting to see two characters talk things out. Of course they kept secrets, but they knew when to reveal them and that made me want to stick around and read it. Thankyou for making such a wonderful comic!!

Thank you so much!!!

This really means a lot to me <3

I think there's generally a tendency to believe that relationships can't be nice in a romance or the story will be boring.

I understand where this idea comes from, stories should have conflict! And, real world relationships have conflict, as well. They always will! It makes sense that most stories centered around relationships would, inevitably, at some point, have disagreements, fights, anger...

I get why others enjoy it, its messy it's fun it's drama! but for me personally it just stresses me out since I've done so much work to NOT be like that!

As a writer, when presented with two people who are reasonably at odds with eachother, where neither of them is in the wrong per se, but someone still ends up hurt... it's a fun challenge to write them working through it in a believable way. it's a fun challenge, too, to put them into situations that feel equal and human.

I just think it's a necessary thing for who I am as a person to write relationships the way I do, and so I'm just very very very glad that other people resonate with it as well!

It means a lot. Thank you.

#me trying not to ramble on for paragraphs impossible challenge #asks #anon #I always love to talk about how uhhh #the perceptions we have of how relationships should be displayed #idk I dont think that theres any one way to do it #those relationships where people dont communicate and they fight all the time...#those happen. they happen all the time irl.#of course they would be reflected in fiction constantly!#but just for me personally #after YEARS and years and years of working on myself so I dont do that #I pause. think the best of my partner before jumping to conclusions.#take the moment to ask him hey #has anything been bothering you lately? things have been good but I want to be sure there's not little things I've done to hurt you #and i listen when hes telling me that yes. it did bother him when I made that joke the other day actually #and to learn to be patient #and not cry immediately #and listen #and ask instead of assuming #and always think the best thoughts first or whatever #its done me a world of good #and I dont think it is healthy for me personally as a person to write an unhealthy relationship with poor communication #because I get uhm... extremely invested in my writing...#in the way that it very much helps me learn about myself and practice habits.#cause obviously I still fail. of course I will #and I just would like to get as much practice as I can #of being better #for me and for him #and for all my friends

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aeide-thea · 2 years ago

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i think... this year* i'd like to learn how to suck less as a correspondent. specifically in the way where like. somebody says/asks something and i can tell i'm not going to be able to give them an unalloyedly enthusiastically affirming response for a wide range of reasons (don't want to say yes / can't wrangle the logistics required to say yes / there's a whole unresolved/unresolvable emotional tangle in the way of engaging with the question even though i DO very much want to respond really positively) and i feel paralyzingly hideously helpless and guilty and just totally shut down. and then like. either i just never talk to the person again or they have to dig me out of the hole even though i'm the one who ought to be doing the groveling.

and like. there's a lot of traumatic conditioning behind this (non-)response! i don't have any immediate ideas abt how to stop doing it! (except maybe to be like 'hi i like and value you but i'm getting stuck responding to this bc something abt it is hard for me and i feel guilty i can't just respond with immediate unalloyed enthusiasm' bc honestly most people who try to talk to me are like. patient good people who'd probably be open to that sort of meta-level move. so maybe that's one idea. but honestly for once i *would* actually accept Thoughts on this, if anyone else has analogous struggles!)

#*time period honestly arbitrary and i get twitchy abt Resolutions bc they feel very doomed to fail tbh #but like. a project i'd theoretically like to get better at #bc the current state of affairs is miserable both for me and for the people i end up mistreating #(also i know some of you don't feel i owe you this level of accountability and i appreciate that!)#(but like. it's a question of the sort of relationship one has or is trying 2 have)#(and there are ppl to whom i DO feel i owe it)#(or anyway feel that failing to provide it has killed something between us in a palpable if unspoken way)#so like. i HAVE been doing my very (very) poor best but. would love for my best to get better.#and of course it won't get better unless i somehow MAKE it better which. oof. so. open 2 strategies if you‚ too‚ know how this goes.

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weaselle · 2 months ago

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i want to talk about real life villains

Not someone who mugs you, or kills someone while driving drunk, those are just criminals. I mean VILLAINS.

Not like trump or musk, who are... cartoonishly evil. And not sexy villains, not grandiose villains, not even satisfyingly two dimensional villains it is easy to hate unconditionally. The real villains.

I had a client who was a retired executive for one of the big oil companies, i think it was Shell or Chevron. Had a home just outside of San Francisco that was wall to wall floor to ceiling full of expensive art. Literally. I once accidentally knocked a painting off the wall because it was hanging at knee height at the corner of the stairs, and it had a little brass plaque on it, and i looked up the name of the artist and it was Monet's apprentice and son-in-law, who was apparently also a famous painter. He had an original Andy Warhol, which should have been a prize piece for anyone to showcase -- it was hanging in the bathroom. I swear to god this guy was using a Chihuly (famous glass sculptor) as a fruit bowl. And he was like, "idk my wife was the one who liked art"

I was intrigued by this guy, because in the circles i run this dude is The Enemy. right? Wealthy oil executive? But as my client, he was... like a sweet grandpa. A poor widower, a nice old man, anyone who knew him would have called him a sweetheart. He had a slightly bewildered air, a sort of gentle bumbling nature.

And the fact that he was both of these things, a Sweet Little Old Man and The Enemy, at the same time, seemed important and fascinating to me.

He reminded me of some antagonist from fiction, but i couldn't put my finger on who. And when i did it all made sense.

John Hammond.

probably one of the most realistic bad guys ever written.

If you've only ever seen the movie, this will need some explaining.

Michael Crichton wrote Jurassic Park in 1990, and i read it shortly thereafter. In the movie, the dinosaurs are the antagonists, which imo erases 50% of the point of the story.

book spoilers below.

In the book, John Hammond is the villain but it takes the reader like half the book to figure that out. Just like my client, John is a sweet old man who wants lovely things for people. He's a very sympathetic character. But as the book progresses, you start to see something about him.

He has an idea, and he's sure it's a good one. When someone else dies in pursuit of his dream, he doesn't think anything of it. When other people turn out to care about that, he brings in experts to evaluate the safety of his idea, and when they quickly tell him his idea is dangerous and needs to be put on hold, he ignores his own experts that he himself hired, because they are telling him that he is wrong, and he is sure he is right.

In his mind, he's a visionary, and nobody understands his vision. He is surrounded by naysayers. Several things have proven too difficult to do the best and safest way, so he has cut corners and taken shortcuts so he can keep moving forward with his plans, but he's sure it's fine. He refuses to hear any word of caution, because he believes he is being cautious enough, and he knows best, even though he has no background in any of the sciences or professions involved. He sends his own grandchildren out into a life-threatening situation because he is willfully ignorant of the danger he is creating.

THIS is like the real villains of the world. He doesn't want anyone to die. Far from it, he only wants good things for people! He's a sweet old man who loves his grandchildren. But he has money and power and refuses to hear that what he is doing is dangerous for everyone, even his own family.

I think he's possibly one of the most important villains ever written in popular fiction.

In the book, he is killed by a pack of the smallest, cutest, "least dangerous" dinosaurs, because a big part of why we read fiction is to see the villains face thematic justice. But like a cigarette CEO dying of lung cancer, his death does not stop his creation from spreading out into the world to continue to endanger everyone else.

I think it is really important to see and understand this kind of villainy in fiction, so you can recognize it in real life.

Sweetheart of a grandfather. Wanted the best for everyone. Right up until what was best for everyone inconvenienced the pursuit of his own interests.

And my client was like that too. His wife had died, and his dog was now the love of his life, and she was this little old dog with silky hair in a hair cut that left long wispy bits on her lower legs. Certain plant materials were easily entangled in this hair and impossible to get out without pulling her hair which clearly hurt her. When i suggested he ask his groomer to trim her lower leg hair short to avoid this, he refused, saying he really liked her usual hair cut.

I emphasized that she was in pain after every walk due to the plant debris getting caught in her leg hair, and a simple trim could put an end to her daily painful removal of it, and he just frowned like i'd recommended he take a bath in pig shit and said "But she'll be ugly" and refused to talk about it anymore.

Sweet old man though. Everyone loved him.

#villains #my life

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catmask · 11 months ago

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tbh when i hear some people talk about 'breaking cycles of abuse', it becomes clear pretty quickly who has come to understand that phrase to mean 'since i was a victim of abuse/neglect by my parents/caretaker/s i will do everything to be nothing like them' and that is all. its not a completely flawed way of thinking either - something that hurt you would very likely hurt someone else; through empathy we learn to understand not to hurt others the way we were hurt too.

but what 'breaking cycles' looks like is more complicated than just not being your parents/caretakers - it's about recognizing how the things that happened to you changed you and how you can heal so you don't hurt someone else in turn. the survival skills you learned in an unhealthy enviroment often translate to poor if not unhealthy interpersonal skills in an enviroment where things ARE safe.

its a difficult pill to swallow for a lot of survivors of abuse (trust me, i know) because we have a tendency to simply want our pain to be recognized. by painting yourself as "absolutely nothing like my abuser" you can abstain from recognizing your own harmful tendencies and live comfortably in the role of victim hood for the rest of your life. it can be tempting to do this especially when so many people will do their best to deny what you experienced - almost like leaning into a stuck door that just won't budge.

the problem with this is if you never recognize that being mistreated made it so you LACK a lot of what other people learned from a loving enviroment, you can hurt people pretty badly even when doing your best just not to replicate what your parents/caretakers got wrong.

this also hurts for victims because, when it comes down to it - it's not FAIR. you were hurt for no reason, and most of us will never hear an apology or even admittance from the person who did it - so why do YOU have to change? why do YOU, the person hurt unjustly, have to put in the work?

and i mean. that's what breaking a cycle is. it means pushing against what's fair and comfortable deliberately so that you can stop something that's been repeating. it's work. its not just recognition of pain, it's the purposeful healing and treatment of it. but thats scary, and it's not fun, so a lot of people fall right back into it. its a lot easier said than done.

#txt #scratchpost

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fastandcarlos · 6 days ago

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On The Mend : ̗̀➛ Oscar Piastri

summary: with your lack of presence in the paddock, fans are starting to worry, little do they know that you happen to be a little broken back at home

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

liked by landonorris, danielricciardo and 849,183 others

oscarpiastri: another successful week of racing, super proud of the whole team to get the car all the way to P2 this weekend 🏆🏎️

35,058 comments

username1: congratulations oscar, such an awesome drive!!

username2: just a shame that yn wasn’t there to see it once again 🙄

landonorris: so proud of you osc 😭😭😭

username3: surely they can’t still be together, she hasn’t shown her face in weeks…

charles_leclerc: mum is very proud that the two of us were on the podium btw

oscarpiastri: @/charles_leclerc it was all thanks to her pep talk ofc

username4: we’ll still support you osc even if yn won’t

mclaren: the whole team is so proud of you, congratulations oscar!

username5: enjoy the celebrations, I’m sure the team will be there for you at least 🥲

danielricciardo: congrats brother, always nice to see you repping for down under

username6: either something must be seriously wrong or yn really just doesn’t care anymore 😭

maxverstappen1: hell of a drive from you, great to see you back where you belong!

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ynusername posted two private stories

replies

georgerussell63: thanks for reminding everyone I got a penalty yn 😂😂

oscarpiastri: make sure you’re resting, you don’t need to worry about the race sweetheart!!

ynusername: I’ve never missed a race of yours 😩

danielricciardo: why tf are you in hospital and why didn’t you tell me immediately so that I could help!!

nicolepiastri: sending you lots of love sweetheart, sorry we can’t be there to help you 💕

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oscarpiastri: I promise to sneak you in loads of snacks as soon as I’m there 💞

lilymhe: I miss you so much, hope you’re recovering well girlie

landonorris: he’s on the first flight outta here straight back to you 🧡

carmenmmundt: sending you all the healing vibes in the world ❤️

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

liked by charles_leclerc, logansargeant and 812,948 others

oscarpiastri: wish me luck on the flight, some weird passenger keeps looking over their shoulder at me 👀

36,950 comments

username7: that poor pilot having to drive these two home lmao

danielricciardo: now you get to experience my struggle before you came along 😭

oscarpiastri: @/danielricciardo idk how you ever did it 🤦🏻

username8: at least oscar has lando to celebrate with even though others have abandoned him

alex_albon: why else do you think we offered to take you home on our plane instead?! 😂

username9: i wonder if he's going home to yn being there or not

charles_leclerc: you're incredibly brave volunteering to travel home with him 👏🏻

username10: yn should be there with him, i really hope that they're okay

username11: what would we do without these two in our lives!?

maxverstappen1: we tried to talk you out of it but you didn't listen 🤷🏻

username 12: i love how all the boys are exposing lando as a terrible travel partner hahah

landonorris: stop trying to make it sound like we're not bffs osc 💔

oscarpiastri: @/landonorris that's because we're definitely not best friends

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liked by landonorris, alex_albon and 793,722 others

oscarpiastri: seeing as some people want to make it their business, we thought we’d share why yn hasn’t been around recently. a couple of weeks ago she had a nasty fall at home which resulted in a broken leg. yesterday I finally got to bring her home and begin helping her with recovery…just call me doctor piastri from now on 🧑🏻‍⚕️💞

57,492 comments

username13: i hope all you losers who thought they broke up are proud of yourselves 🙄

landonorris: you guys know where i am if you need anything!!

georgerussel63: we love you yn, make sure you get plenty of rest ❤️❤️❤️

username14: sending you so much love yn, get plenty of rest

ynusername: apologies in advance for the lack of sleep you're about to get because of me 😂

oscarpiastri: @/ynusername as long as you're healing idc 🥹

username15: can't believe some of you were so stupid to ever think they'd actually break up

alex_albon: glad to see you're back at home where you belong yn

danielricciardo: do i even want to ask how she managed to break her leg??

oscarpiastri: @/danielricciardo if I told you I don't think you'd believe me 😂

username16: poor oscar looks exhausted having to drive and take care of yn too

charles_leclerc: pls tell me I get to sign the cast ✍️

ynusername: @/charles_leclerc i'll save a spot just for you

username17: please make sure you take care of yourself yn and ignore what everyone has to say

carmenmmundt: sending you so many healing vibes yn, we miss you at the paddock

username18: during a time when they need privacy and instead they've been hounded by nosey idiots 🤦🏻

maxverstappen1: can't wait to see all the doctor piastri content from you! 😂

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

liked by georgerussell63, carlossainz55 and 682,058 others

oscarpiastri: the only way to get her out of the house atm is to bribe her with coffee ☕️

63,957 comments

username19: it's adorable how much oscar cares about her 🥰

lilymhe: tell her im omw with coffee as we speak to get her out again!

username20: it's so good to see yn back up on her feet and moving around again 🤩

alex_albon: i actually forgot what yn looked like stood upright for a moment

username21: why does it feel like oscar is one of those partners who is constantly checking on her making sure she's doing her exercises and following every single bit of advice

maxverstappen1: yn's injury is really making you look like the doting boyfriend rn ❤️

danielricciardo: if yn ever gets bored of being entertained on a walk by you, you know where i am!

username22: i bet yn can't wait for race weekend again to get rid of the nagging doctor 😂

landonorris: wish you looked after me as well as you look after yn

oscarpiastri: @/landonorris just a shame that we're not dating then really huh?!

username23: anyone else noticed how many drivers have been round this week to take yn out and make sure she's staying active too

username24: @/username23 i think she might just be the most popular wag on the grid

ynusername: i hate you but i love you at the same time these days 💞

oscarpiastri: @/ynusername if the doctor says you keep moving, it's my job to make you move 😂

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

liked by landonorris, carmenmmundt and 59,491 others

ynusername: I always knew oscar was secretly boyfriend coded but damn having him look after me is making me fancy him all over again 🔥

12,056 comments

username25: i think i might've just fallen in love with him all over again too 😍

alexandrasaintmleux: make the most of all of the attention you're getting girl

ynusername: @/alexandrasaintmleux oh I am, he doesn't let me lift a finger 😘

username26: soft, doctor boyfriend oscar might just be my new favourite thing

charles_leclerc: if i see many more of these posts from you i might just need a sick bucket 🤮

username27: yn you really are the luckiest having this guy in your life

carlossainz55: i always knew he was a softie deep down 🥺

oscarpiastri: you know i'd do anything as long as it meant getting you better again

ynusername: @/oscarpiastri you're an angel in disguise i swear

username28: i'd break my leg too if it meant oscar piastri was there to look after me 😂

username29: it melts my heart to see how caring oscar has been over the past few weeks

danielricciardo: even i found myself getting a bit excited when i saw these photos yn

username30: everyone needs an oscar piastri in their life

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

ynusername posted two stories

replies

landonorris: you're ruining oscar's image with every post you share these days 😂

oscarpiastri: there's nowhere else that I'd rather be

ynusername: we'll pretend you didn't complain that it wasn't race weekend first thing this morning shall we???

carmenmmundt: hope it's good news, lemme know how you get on!!

alex_albon: praying for you and hoping that it's the beginning of the end now 💕

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

danielricciardo: thinking of you guys, tell the doctor if he doesn't give you good news i'll break his leg 💞

ynusername: something tells me you might find a few challenges in doing that hahah

georgerussell63: you're so strong yn, just remember we love you

charles_leclerc: the whole family is hoping for good news for you and oscar ❤️

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

liked by oscarpiastri, landonorris and 70,238 others

ynusername: the moment i've waited for for so long, back in my second home of the garage and back supporting my love during race weekend

14,592 comments

username31: make sure you keep taking care of yourself yn!! 💕

oscarpiastri: cannot begin to tell you how happy i am to have you back with me again ☺️

ynusername: @/oscarpiastri the best feeling in the world being able to cheer you on again

danielricciardo: ik just how much this means to you, welcome back to us yn

username32: it's so good to see you right back where you belong again

username33: it feels like you've never been away, I'm so happy for you guys 🥹

charles_leclerc: on the mend at last, i hope you know just how many people can't wait to welcome you back this weekend

username34: we love our favourite #81 fan 🧡

iamrebeccad: i am hurrying over to that mclaren garage as fast as i possibly can rn ‼️

username35: so happy to see you back on your feet and back with our favourite duo again

username36: this is the content we've been waiting for, it's so good to see you back

landonorris: as much as i hate having to share oscar again, it's a joy to have you back 🙃

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

˗ˏˋ 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ! ´ˎ˗

2K notes · View notes

sehnsuchts-trunken · 4 months ago

Text

(Don't You) Steal My Thunder

my tyler owens playlist 🤝 inspiring fic titles

Tyler Owens x fem!reader 7k words

summary: Tyler Owens is the most annoying man you've ever met. But he's set on getting you on his good side. And the more you get to know him, the less you can resist.

a/n: i had to research sm car stuff for this it's not funny. i now know exactly how to describe a truck bed though, so. that's fun.

again, my inbox is wide open <33 i don't guarantee anything, but you can always come talk to me or request smth

masterlist | twisters masterlist

Tyler Owens is the most annoying man you've ever met.

He prints his face on t-shirts, writes his autograph on mugs, comes up with ridiculous sayings ("Not My First Tornadeo" and "If you feel it, chase it" are really just the tip of the ice berg) and most importantly, he costs you the best shots of tornadoes every goddamn time.

Tyler Owens is a problem.

And Tyler Owens seems to have actively decided to make himself a problem too.

Which would be fine, if he flipped you the bird or told you to fuck off or threw his paper towels at you. Unluckily, those are rather examples of what you have done to him. Because it's not fine, not at all - no, Tyler Owens has decided that it's not enough to be in your way all the time, he has to seek you out and rub your nose in it.

Tyler Owens is the most annoying man you've ever met. He's cocky and he's arrogant and he's entirely too full of himself. He brags too much and calls you "weather girl" too often. He gets under your skin more than you would ever admit.

And, as if all of that isn't enough - Tyler Owens is the very epitome of handsomeness.

It's like god didn't just have a good day when he created Tyler Owens, no, god must have still been in the post-haze of the best head he'd gotten in his whole immortal life when he'd created Tyler Owens.

Because Tyler Owens has the body of a greek god and the face of a Hollywood actor. He's not a pornstar, he's who pornstars worship. He's the Prince Charming little girls dream of and the Christian Grey grown women lust for.

Tyler Owens looks like everything you've ever wanted.

But he's just such a fucking asshole.

You wish you could say you didn't care. You'd love to be the kind of woman who didn't even acknowledge him. But you're not. You're not. You watch his videos when you can't sleep, you chuckle when you happen to overhear his jokes, you ogle his back when he's turned away from you. Sometimes, you get so lost in staring at him that you realise too late when he turns back around, and then you have to act unbothered when he grins his fucking grin at you. That's mostly when you flip him off, desperately fighting to ignore the heat in your cheeks.

Not like it stops him. You honestly feel like it only spurs him on.

Something has to seriously be wrong with him. It's not his face. But something is seriously wrong with him, you're sure of that.

Something has to be wrong with him. No sane person would ever go tornado wrangling. No hate to the rest of his crew - they're nice, you've managed to hold a few pretty normal conversations with them here and there - but none of them are sane either.

Storm chasing is different. You keep your distance. All you need are a few well-placed photographs - and those you can get from a rather safe number of miles away. The weather channel doesn't care about close-ups (not really, anyway). They want something to show the people on their comfortable couches, up in New Hampshire or Maine, so that all of them can say to each other "What poor folks, wouldn't wanna live there" and nod in pity as they switch the channel to watch another blockbuster.

You're just doing your job.

The only problem is that it's hard to do your job properly when there's always that fucking red truck in the way, driving down empty roads right into the heart of the tornado. And because no one on the news wants people to see that and go "Well, can't be too bad if there's still cars on the streets!", in the last few months - ever since you'd volunteered to move back to Oklahoma 'So that we've got someone right in Tornado Alley and don't have to fly people out there every time' - the weather channel has only shown the first few minutes of tornadoes forming. The rest of your pictures and videos lie abandoned in the trash file on your laptop. Except for a few - a very, very few, very, very good pictures of Tyler Owens and his Tornado Wranglers. But those won't ever see the light of day either.

You'd be damned if you let anyone know that while Tyler Owens is busy disturbing your actual work, you're busy taking pictures of him shooting fireworks into tornadoes. Pictures that would make for some damn good headers (if you hadn't buried them far, far down your gallery).

This time is no different. You get a few amazing shots of the tornado forming – surely an EF2, maybe even an EF3 - before you settle in the driver's seat again, your window rolled down and your camera hung around your neck as you push down on the gas. Then, a few miles further, you get even better shots of the full tornado, of the first few minutes of destruction, right there, in the middle of an empty field.

And as always, of course, just as the tornado takes on full form, you spot that familiar red truck through the lens of your camera. It speeds down the pavement right in front of where you’ve swerved onto the side of the road and you snap a few pictures, just because you’ve got the trigger right underneath your finger. Honestly, something about that dirty red paint against the grey skies just looks too good not to capture. But then the truck comes closer and closer and starts to slow down and you let your camera sink.

Tyler has his window rolled down already when he stops the car. There’s that annoyingly handsome grin on his lips, the one that makes you want to slap him across the face.

“You’re too far away, weather girl”, he calls out above the rumble of distant wind and thunder. “The good pictures are down that way.”

“The good pictures are right here.” You lift your camera at him. “Maybe you just need to update your equipment.”

Tyler’s grin widens, but before he can throw another of those obnoxious retorts your way, Lilly’s voice rings out through the car.

“Hey, T, looks like it’s changing course. You should hurry.”

His eyes are still glued to yours, still glued so firmly to yours that it makes your skin crawl. You can’t look away, couldn’t possibly look away. Tyler Owens might just be a cocky asshole, but you’re only human. And the weight of his gaze on yours is enough to keep you stuck in place, clutching at your camera.

“We’re on our way, Lilly”, he drawls without looking away from you. “See you around, weather girl.”

The rest of the pictures you take land in your trash file with all the other pictures of the last few weeks. You’re laying in bed, your laptop propped up against a pillow, the empty plate from dinner on the mattress next to you as you sort through today’s work. That’s the good thing about the time difference – you’ve got until seven to send the channel the day's results.

By nine, you’ve showered, put on a dress you feel confident in and settled on one of the chairs at the local bar. You’ve been telling yourself you need to get out a little bit more – you’ve been living here three months now and you haven’t really made any friends so far. To be fair, your job has kept you out and about most of the time. You’ve spent more hours at gas stations to fill up your tank than you have in your own home. But now you’ve decided to put an end to that. You're a young woman in a new town, you can meet more people than just the cashier at the local supermarket.

So for the past twenty minutes, you’ve been nursing a mojito at the counter and talking to the bartender. She’s nice, she’s your age, she’s extroverted enough to keep sidling up to you after every time she has to excuse herself to do her job. That, and she tells you she’s grown up here, so she knows most of the people around. She’s just serving another customer – a long-haired, brown-eyed, hat-wearing country guy who’s already shared a smile or two with you – when someone rests their arm on the countertop next to you.

“Didn’t expect to see you here”, he drawls, all low, deep Southern accent and you recognise his voice before you’ve even tilted your head up and looked at him. His grin drips down onto his words and wraps itself around your mind.

Tyler Owens isn’t just annoying – he’s unbelievable. He's unbelievable and he’s here.

“So you’re stalking me now”, you say, as drily as you can possibly manage. You've been doing that a lot around him. Dead-panning everything. Schooling your expression into fake neutrality.

"I'm here all the time, weather girl", he grins. "If anything, you're stalking me."

You snort, but it's rather unfunny when you think of all the videos you've watched, hours after they'd been livestreamed, cuddled up in your bed until midnight just to stare at his face. He's not that far from the truth.

"In your dreams, Owens", you say anyway, dragging your eyes back towards your almost empty cocktail glass. You wrap your lips around your straw and drain your drink entirely. What you say and what you do, none of that matters in the end. All of this is just show. Every conversation you've had with Tyler Owens in the last three months has been nothing but a performance. Other than your name, you don't think a single sentence out of your mouth has been honest. Not when it comes to him.

"Let me buy you a beer" is the only answer you get.

His grin widens when you look back up again - so cocky, so unbelievably cocky.

"I don't drink."

You push your glass an inch further down the bar top. Tyler raises his eyebrows. Fuck, someone really needs to kick him in the face. You can't keep having all these little heart attacks whenever he's close enough that you could touch him if you wanted.

Not that you want to.

"You're drinking right now", he says. You rest your palms against the bar top and blink at him.

"I don't drink with you."

He lets out a chuckle, one of those deep ones that settle right in your chest and make it hard to swallow.

"Just this once?", he asks and in all honesty, for just a second there, you actually consider giving in. He's too handsome for his own good. You really need to get it together. He's an ass (what an ass, goddamn). And he's insane. He's an insane ass. Sometimes you have to remind yourself of that - those times like now, when his piercing eyes and his kissable lips and his rugged stubble and his broad, broad shoulders and his drawled voice overshadow everything else.

"Don't you have some livestreaming to do?", you ask, hoping it still comes across just as sarcastic when you're the slightest bit distracted by how gloriously tight the sleeves of his flannel are. "Go chasing tornadoes, not me."

His grin widens inexplicably further. You're sure that if you were in a comic, there'd be a lightbulb flashing above his head right about now.

"Well", he drawls, "if you feel it..."

"Don't you do that shit to me, Owens."

He's raising his eyebrows again, raising his eyebrows as you clasp your hand around your empty glass so hard your knuckles turn white. But you're serious. Just as you'd lost yourself in the view of him, that angelic, sinful view of him, he'd gone and reminded you why you were so adamant to keep your distance. If you feel it, chase it. Ridiculous. Obnoxious. He's an arrogant, know-it-all, suicidal job-wrecker. He's the guy with cameras pointed at him everywhere he goes. He signs mugs and selfies and hats and shirts and bras. He's the reason you haven't gotten a single un-edited shot of a fully formed tornado in the last three months.

"You're not a fan of my catchphrase, weather girl?"

He can't even pretend to look wounded (even though he tries) with how big the grin on his lips still is. You stare right at him, dead-eyed and unflinching.

"I'm not a fan of you."

Lies slip off your tongue so easily by now that you wonder when you'd become morally compromised enough to not even care anymore. It must've happened somewhere along the way, sometime between the first conversation you'd had with him and the one you're having with him right now.

"You wound me", he grins, his palm pressed to his chest.

For the first time tonight, you allow yourself to grin back at him.

"I try."

With that, you slip off your chair and wave the bartender goodbye. You're already two steps away when Tyler calls after you.

"I'd still buy you a beer."

"I'm still not drinking with you", you call back. You don't turn around again. You just make your way back to your car and mark the evening as a half-successful night of socialising on your to-do list.

...

You see him again first thing the next day. Of course. Because there's no tornadoes without the Tornado Wranglers on their tail. By now, you're used to it. You wave at Dani as they come back out of the store at the gas station you're waiting at. They've got both arms full of coffees and for a second, you consider offering your help, but then you hear Tyler shout something out of his car and you suddenly don't feel any desire whatsoever to get up. You've sat yourself down in your truck bed, your camera slung around your neck and the radar on your lap. If all goes right, you're hoping for a tornado to form a little to the east from here. And as much as you dislike Tyler Owens, the fact that he's here soothes your nerves. Where he goes, there's sure to be tornadoes close by.

The few times you hadn't seen him had never ended well for you. You'd missed an EF3 your second week here just because you'd followed the wrong hunch. Meanwhile Tyler, of course, had been in the middle of it.

This might just be the one singular situation that you welcome seeing his red truck around. As long as you can manage to overtake him on the road after.

It's not that you need to be faster. You don't need to reach the tornado first. You don't even take the same way as him most of the time. He wants in there, you just want a sensible picture. Still, you can't help but feel a pang of disappointment every time you hit the brakes and jump out of your car, miles away from the actual cell as Tyler speeds down towards it. You've been telling yourself that it's because he ruins your pictures. It kind of is.

"Hey, weather girl!"

You let out a resigned breath as you tilt your head up and squint against the sun. He's still in his truck, his window rolled down, his elbow propped up against the car door.

"What do you want, Owens?"

Your fingers itch to reach for your camera. It's a visual, him in that fucking car, leaning out of his window with the sun peaking out behind him. But you can't, you can't take a picture of him this openly. Even if you were to argue that it's just the light you'd wanted to capture.

"To give you some advice", he calls out, his lips pulling into a grin. You raise your eyebrows at him. "East isn't gonna work out. Wind's changing. Go south."

He throws you a mock salute and hits the gas before you can say anything else.

Not that you'd been about to.

Instead you just curse to yourself, jump off the truck bed and throw your treacherous technology into the passenger seat with a little too much vigor. Fuck this. You sit at the steering wheel and stare out at the sky for exactly two seconds before you make your decision. Then you start your car and drive south.

You may not be a fan of Tyler Owens, but you've long since admitted to yourself that this man has got a gift. He has an unbeatable instinct when it comes to storms. And sure, you have your fair share of knowledge, but in the end, you're a photographer, not a meteorologist. You won't miss a day's work just because you're too proud to listen to Tyler.

You're a little further behind, but you can spot his truck and guess that he's driving straight on into the cell today, so you take a right and decide to try your luck with the side of the tornado. Not being right in its path doesn't sound too bad anyway.

You actually manage to snap a few well-placed pictures. You don't know what Tyler's doing, but it seems like he's not shooting random shit up the cell today. You'll watch the stream later - you're just the slightest bit curious now what's happening with them. Maybe they're doing some old-school chasing? Or maybe they're doing a challenge. Maybe Tyler is driving blindfolded. At this point, who knows.

It's good for you though. It's a considerable tornado today, an EF2 at least, and you only spot Tyler's red truck again when the cell moves further down the fields, away from him. It doesn't look like it's gonna disappear anytime soon. Maybe today's your lucky day.

Half an hour later, you're sure you've got at least a dozen pictures of the fully formed tornado, long touched down and without the red truck in the way.

You're just packing up your things, already sifting through the photos on your camera, squinting against the sunlight, trying to both tug the zipper of your bag closed and hit the right buttons at the same time when Tyler pulls up next to you.

"You look busy, weather girl", he says, already grinning that damn grin again.

"I am", you say - truthfully, for once. You let go of your bag and lower your camera. You're hesitant, but... "Thanks for the tip."

"Anytime", he grins. "Just do me one favour."

You already know this can't be good. Not with that cheeky look on his face. But he'd just saved you from chasing hot air (quite literally), so he deserves a little treat. And you don't want unsettled scores with Tyler Owens.

"I want to know what favour that's supposed to be before I agree", you say anyway, because with him, you can never be too careful. And in the end, you're only willing to do so much. (Though for him, you'd already do a lot more than you'd admit. A lot more than you hope he's aware of.)

"Let me buy you a beer", he says, and for once, he sounds serious.

The memory of yesterday night flashes before your eyes, of those same words at the bar. With him so close, way too close - with that grin and that stubble and that voice and those shoulders. You cross your arms and stare at him.

"If you're livestreaming this, I'm gonna sue your ass so hard."

He just lets out a chuckle and raises his hands in surrender.

"Cameras are off, I swear."

You stare at him for another silent ten or so seconds. At him in that fucking truck that looks just a little too good in your pictures. At him and his fucking face. That fucking face that you certainly wouldn't mind sitting on, if just to shut him up.

God, he's asking you to drink something with him. He's asking to buy you something to drink with him. You're stupid.

You're so, so stupid.

"Alright, cowboy", you say, uncrossing your arms and reaching for the handle of your car door. "I'll humour you."

...

You're in the bar again by nine that night, the same way you had been the day before. You're wearing a different dress and there's a different bartender, but you've ordered the same mojito and chosen the same place to sit.

Only this time, you're actively watching the door. And when Tyler strolls in, you've got to shift around in your seat and cross your legs. You don't even pretend you're not staring. You just ogle him openly. Not for the first time ever - you'd checked him out very obviously when he'd strutted towards you to introduce himself three months ago - but definitely for the first time in a while. And god yeah, he's a hunk of a man, alright. If you had your camera here right now...

But you don't. So instead, you drop your eyes to his feet (brown leather boots), drag them up his legs (blue jeans), over his chest (red checkered flannel), over his face (god, what you wouldn't give-) and finally rest them on the cowboy hat on top of his head.

When he's close enough to hear you, already grinning, of course, probably at how you're actually sitting there in the same spot as yesterday and hadn't just lied to his face about coming here, you raise your eyebrows at him.

"A cowboy hat?", you ask, your voice as unbothered as you can possibly manage (even though you're very, very, very much bothered right now). His grin only widens.

"Ladies love country boys", he drawls with a shrug.

"Now that's straight out of a song", you say. "You're getting lazy, Owens."

"A song?", he asks. "No, that's an Owens Original."

You pull your eyebrows even further up.

"Ladies love country boys? Trace Adkins?"

"Nope. Not familiar."

But his grin tells you that he's lying. He's a liar. He knows very well where he got that line from. And he knows just how easily he got under your skin with his simple trick. As if his face isn't enough already.

You just shake your head and turn away from him.

"Put your money where your mouth is, Owens. Buy me a beer."

...

Tyler Owens is the most annoying man you've ever met. But he's also a great conversationalist.

The hours fly by as you're talking. One beer turns into two, then into an uncountable number of soft drinks. You both agree that you need to drive home, neither of you is willing to risk a run-in with the police. You need your drivers license for your jobs.

Tyler talks to you about the pictures you've taken today, then about the pictures from last week. He laughs when you blame him for ruining half of them and almost spits out his coke when you slap his arm for laughing at you. He tells you about his crew, about the people they've helped with the money from their dumb t-shirt sales. You think you hate him less by the minute. You're not sure if you're okay with that. But he gets you talking about your childhood and your parents, about school and college and about how you've wound back up here in Oklahoma. That effectively distracts you.

That, and how his cocky grin morphs into a genuine smile the more you open up.

Not that you didn't love the cocky grin. You did, just a bit. As obnoxious as it was. But the way he smiles at you all sweet has you melting right in your spot.

It's not the first time you realise that beneath all that rough exterior, there beats a heart of gold. You've known what those t-shirt sales are for, that he offers food and water after a tornado hits a town, that he carries the injured out of the ruins of their houses and helps find lost dogs. The more you've been around him in the past weeks, the more you've seen of his soft side. Of the way he cares and supports. But in the end, it always is easier to go back to the status quo - to fall back onto mindless snark and fleeting first impressions.

You'd clung so desperately to the image of him as this arrogant, smug, holier-than-thou influencer god for the sole purpose of keeping your own sanity. Because you'd known that without despising him, you would fall head over heels for Tyler Owens, and you just couldn't have that.

But now, with his arm brushing against yours and his hat discarded on the bar top and his smile, that beautiful, beautiful smile on his lips...

"Five bucks", he drawls, already reaching for his wallet.

"What?"

"Five bucks says there won't be a tornado tomorrow."

You raise your eyebrows at him, your glass hovering in mid-air between the two of you. You'd meant to take a sip, but now you're setting it right back down on the bar top.

"You're shitting me."

Tyler just shakes his head. He's grinning again, but it's much softer this time around.

"The winds are looking great. The forecast says it's gonna be the best conditions for tornadoes we've seen in the last six weeks. I've heard Dexter talk about how we're probably gonna see an EF4 tomorrow", you tell him, even though you're sure he's well aware of all of it. This is Tyler Owens, for god's sake. He knows about the winds and the forecasts. He knows that his crew is making preparations already.

His grin only grows. And it's smug now. It's cocky now. It's everything you thought you'd left behind during this conversation. He looks like the Tornado Wrangler again, like the guy who fucks up your pictures and makes your job harder than it already is.

It takes you a second too long to realise why.

"Dexter said that on our live", he grins, as if he can't quite believe what he's hearing. You physically recoil from him. "Do you watch our streams, weather girl?"

"No", you breathe, rigid and frozen, shocked to your very core. No, no, no, no, this cannot be happening. This cannot be happening. You'd... You hadn't made that mistake. He hadn't got you to make that mistake.

"Dexter talked about tomorrow on our live", Tyler says again, straightening his back and grinning down at you like he's just uncovered the lost grave of Cleopatra. "Only on the live. You watched our stream."

"No", you mutter, your eyes wide and your mouth dry, so dry. You need to drink. You need to drink so badly. "No, I didn't."

"Yes, you did. You watched our stream, honey."

The petname runs down your spine and clogs your senses. Honey. Oh, he's an ass, he's an asshole! But you're on the spot, you're on the spot and he's calling you honey, honey, honey. You can't do anything but watch as he leans closer to you, grinning down at you like it's his one true purpose on this earth, like he wants to eat you alive.

"I'd say you watch our streams pretty regularly, weather girl."

You swallow hard and clasp your hand around your glass.

"Yeah?", you breathe, hoping against all hope that your voice sounds somewhat innocent. You're sure it doesn't. You know it doesn't. You probably sound as guilty as you are, but... Hope dies last. Hope always dies last. "Why would you say that?"

"Just a hunch." He shows off those pearly fucking whites for you. "Call it an instinct. I'm usually right."

He is.

He's right now. He's right usually.

Him and his fucking instinct. His goddamn gut feeling about tornadoes, always right all the fucking time. He's like an Oklahoma Jesus. The first coming of Tornado Christ.

Fuck him.

"I'll take your bet." You drain your glass at once. "Give me your five bucks, Owens."

You don't think it'll work. You don't think he'll let you distract him. You don't think it'll be this easy to stop his vile teasing. He's not the type of guy to let something go. He's not the type of guy to let anything go ever. But he looks at you and he grins at you and he trails his eyes over your face and then he opens up his wallet and pulls out five dollars without another word.

He puts the bill flat on the bar top.

But when you go to reach for it, he pushes his fingers down.

"The price just went up", he says.

You raise your eyebrows and let your hand sink again. Tyler is absolutely unpredictable. You should've known.

"The price just went up?", you repeat. He nods. "What more do you want to bet?"

He's closer now, closer all of a sudden. He's too close, close enough to make your breath hitch. He's looking down at you with that cocky, cheeky grin, with his weirdly green eyes, with his three day stubble and his generally much too symmetrical face. You can't do anything but look back up at him.

"A kiss", he says. Simple as that.

A kiss.

Tyler Owens is the most annoying man you've ever met. He is. Truly. He's annoying and way too full of himself and much too presumptuous. Tyler Owens is the only man who would ever do something like this. The only man who'd bet a kiss on whether or not there will be tornadoes tomorrow.

Especially with that forecast.

The one that says a tornado is basically inevitable.

"Alright", you say. He may be Tyler Owens, the guy with an infallible instinct - but he is also Tyler Owens, the guy who's been doing his hardest to get under your skin. This time might not be any different. For all you know, he's bluffing to rile you up. "I'm in."

...

At eleven the next day, you're standing next to Dexter in resigned silence.

"I really thought today was gonna pan out", you mutter.

"It should have", Dexter frowns, tapping against the screen in his hands. "It should have worked out. The conditions should have been perfect. Everything's been building the last few days."

"But it collapsed this morning."

You turn your head and watch as Tyler comes to a stand next to you, arms crossed, eyes locked on the clear sky up above. He tilts his head to you and grins. Fuck, he's wearing his goddamn hat again. It's like he doesn't even try to be normal.

"Hey, weather girl", he greets. "Ready to cash out your bet?"

You shake your head at him. No, you're not giving up this easily. You never give up this easily.

"The day's not over yet, Owens. You haven't won 'til midnight."

...

You spend most of the next hours sitting in your truck bed, reading a book you'd thrown into your backseat weeks ago and had so far neglected. Lilly hands you lunch around two, Dani offers you a coffee around five and Boone pipes up here and there to joke about the wasted day. Around six, Dexter comes by to let you know they're calling it.

You still have another hour to go. By seven, it'll be too late to send your pictures anyway. But you want the hour. You need the hour.

You still haven't decided what to do about Tyler. About Tyler and his fucking bet.

He's been loitering the whole day, walking by, joking around with his crew, livestreaming a spontaneous q&a just because.

And the more minutes tick by, the harder it is to keep ignoring that you've most definitely lost the bet. Even though you do your best. You read, you check your phone. You stare at your radar. You stare at the weather forecast. You talk to Dexter and Dani and Lilly and Boone. You take a few pictures of the sky. Then you take a few pictures of Tyler, standing some feet away from his truck and looking out at the clouds.

It's only when two of three Tornado Wranglers cars are disappearing down the road, when Tyler Owens suddenly stands in front of your truck bed, that you put down your book and face reality.

"No tornadoes in sight", he says, instead of 'Hello' or 'How are you' like any other person would.

"There's still six hours left", you reason. Even if only one of those is relevant for your job today.

"You really want to wait out six hours to prove I'm right?"

"You're not right", you argue. It's fruitless, it's stupid, it's unreasonable. But... "Not yet, anyway."

Tyler raises his eyebrows at you, lets out an amused chuckle and leans against the side of your truck bed.

"Alright, so we wait."

You eye him from the side. He's fucking leaning against your truck, staring out at the sky, talking about six hours. Goddamn. He can't be serious, can he? His crew is already gone. They've disappeared into the descending sun and he's talking about waiting another six hours. Leaned against your car.

"Fuck's sake, Owens", you sigh, scooching over to the right. "At least sit down then."

You don't talk much at first. You just open your book back up again and try your hardest to ignore that he's even here at all, barely two feet away from you on the other side of your truck bed. If you stretched your leg, you'd hit him right in the hip.

It makes reading close to impossible.

Even though he's not doing anything at all. He's just sitting there, one arm propped up on the side board, that goddamn cowboy hat on his head and his feet hanging off the opened tailgate. It's almost worse that he's not doing anything.

That he's just sitting there and watching the sky change.

You give up on reading entirely when you realise that you've finished exactly five pages in half an hour. Instead, you put your book back in the car, pull out your bluetooth speaker and two water bottles and offer Tyler one of them.

You don't even ask him what music he wants to listen to. You just put on your country playlist and roll with it. By the twitch of his lips, you know he certainly doesn't mind.

Another half hour later, it's starting to get chilly and you're beginning to grow bored of the music. Tyler sitting next to you makes you fidgety, somehow, and you can't really enjoy the songs you usually love so much. So you switch to a podcast. You don't ask Tyler if he minds. He's free to go anytime.

Around eight, the sun starts to set, and the chill turns into an unpleasant cool. You hadn't really expected to be sitting out here so long. You're not prepared for the temperature to drop. You're wearing shorts, for god's sake, shorts and a top. It's summer in Oklahoma - you don't know how Tyler even manages to survive in his long jeans. You certainly wouldn't.

But now you're a little jealous, to be honest. He doesn't look cold in the slightest while you're fighting off shivers. You can feel your hands trembling already.

You really should've brought a jacket. But who brings jackets in 30 degree summer weather?

So instead, you just resign yourself to your fate and rub your hands along your arms. Anything to get some warmth into your body.

For the first time since you've sat back down, Tyler turns his head and looks at you.

"You're cold", he says, eyes raking over your arms and the goosebumps you'd gotten.

"Great observational skills, Sherlock Holmes", you deadpan, even though he doesn't really deserve that. He had so far left you pretty much alone. "A+ on that assignment."

Well, it's hard to break bad habits.

Tyler just chuckles, shakes his head and pushes off of the truck bed. You watch, eyes narrowed, as he walks back to his own car, opens up the trunk and- pulls out a blanket?

Your hands have sunken down to your lap all by themselves by the time he's standing in front of you again, holding out the blanket.

"For you, Watson", he grins as you slowly, carefully take the blanket from him. You mutter something along the lines of a soft 'Thank you' before you wrap the blanket around your arms.

Tyler Owens is the most annoying man you've ever met. But he's also the very definition of "Tough on the outside, soft on the inside". Sometimes, you think the word 'angelic' works for more than just his divine looks.

Your eyes are glued to him as he sits back down next to you and looks out at the darkening sky with that signature grin on his lips, like he knows that you're watching him and enjoys it more than he should. That doesn't deter you though. For the very first time. You don't even stop staring when he turns his head back to you. You don't even stop staring then.

You just look at him until his grin crumbles. Until he's smiling that smile from yesterday night, the one that has your heart squeezing together and then exploding in your chest. You think you could stare at that smile for the rest of eternity and never feel sated.

"What?", he asks, his voice so soft it makes you swallow. Your lips part, but there's no words on your tongue, none in your throat. They're stuck in your chest somewhere, wrapped around your heart so tightly that you can't let them go even now. So you just press your lips together, wrap your blanket tighter around yourself and say:

"So I'm Watson, yeah?"

Your podcast is long forgotten by the time the sky turns dark. So dark that you make Tyler climb into your car and turn on the lights. You're comfortable in your blanket, you don't feel the need to move.

It's around ten when the blanket isn't enough anymore.

You tuck your hands underneath your top, but that only helps for so long. A few minutes later, you're trembling again, trembling even though you're pulling the blanket as tightly around you as you possibly can. Tyler raises his eyebrows when a particularly heavy shiver runs down your spine, one of those that come and go within three seconds.

"Come here", he says, shuffling in his spot and motioning for you to move over to him. You don't really think about it. It's more of a reflex as you fumble the blanket off of your body, scooch over to him, settle yourself against his side and sneak your feet under his thigh. He tugs the blanket back up to your chin, tucks it in behind your back and wraps his arms around you.

Tyler Owens wraps his arms around you.

And he's so fucking warm you literally almost moan. God, you hadn't actually realised just how cold you'd been.

"Damn, you're freezing", he notes as well, just as you nestle further into him and hum in agreement. He's like a living heater right now. You'd like to just crawl inside of him and suck up all his warmth. "You should've told me sooner."

"I didn't tell you at all", you mutter, closing your eyes and taking a deep breath. He smells good. He smells so good. Earthy, musky somehow. You're tempted to turn your head and bury your nose in his shoulder.

Instead, you just satisfy yourself with what you can get. Fuck, he smells so good. He smells just like you'd thought he would, like country and rodeo and thunderstorms. He smells like falling into bed at the end of a successful chase. He smells like more. You want more.

You want more of Tyler Owens.

"Are you sniffing me?", he asks suddenly, but he sounds so amused you can't even bring yourself to feel embarrassed. You just open your eyes and grin at him, tilting your head so you can look up at him.

"What if I am?", you ask, if only to hear that breathless chuckle fall from his lips. Oh, those lips. You're in trouble. "Are you gonna call the cops on me?"

"I could never."

"Yeah, you better not, cowboy", you mutter, eyes dropping to his lips when he grins. He's so close. He's way too close. "There's like thirty things I could call the cops about on your channel."

His grin grows until he's showing off his teeth, glinting against the low light of the leds in your car. He's closer now.

"So you do watch our streams, weather girl."

His voice is so low and he's so close, so close. Your lips part all on their own. You haven't looked back up at his eyes in too long. Far too long. But he's so close, and he's so warm, and he smells so good.

"Alright", you whisper. His mouth is barely an inch from yours. You can feel every breath he takes. "I watch your streams."

And then your lips are on his.

Tyler Owens is the most annoying man you've ever met. He's cocky and he's smug. He makes your job harder than it has to be. He does everything and anything to get under your skin. But Tyler Ownes is the best goddamn kisser this side of the globe.

He trails his hands, his big, big hands, down your sides, pushes the blanket out of the way and grabs at your waist with just enough firmness. He pulls you onto his lap and rests his thumbs over the hem of your top. He breathes into your mouth and takes it slow. He doesn't care that you almost knock his hat out of the way when you try to wrap your arms around his neck. He just holds you tightly to him and lets you tug on his lip.

You honestly don't know how much time has passed when he pulls back, grinning an entirely new grin at you, hazy and euphoric.

"It's not midnight yet", he mutters, the slightest bit out of breath.

"I don't care", you mumble, drawing him right back in for another kiss. You think you might be addicted. You simply can't get enough of him. You can't get enough of Tyler Owens.

But then a thought strikes you, and you pull away with a grin that makes him raise his eyebrows.

You chuckle against his lips.

"If you feel it, chase it, right?"

#twisters #twisters 2024 #tyler owens #tyler owens x reader #tyler owens twisters #x reader

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lovelywritinglady · 4 months ago

Note

For our little writers' Art Trade...! Gyomei has no idea how much his small Fem!Reader lover enjoys seeing her beloved show his strength like he does during the Training Arc... Honestly, it's a HUGE turn-on to see him move a boulder with ease or stand in the middle of flames while balancing heavy weights over his back... Or see him hugging kitties. Sadly, Reader is weak and can only help train Demon Slayers by feeding them, much like Tengen's wives do. She is kinda motherly and that in return turns Gyomei on SO HARD. Where she is weak, he is strong, and vice versa. Maybe some smut? Maybe they sneak out to take out the NEED they lit in each other? I would be eternally thankful!

I shall do my best!!

Strength and Weakness

Gyomei Himejima x Fem!reader

In which you and your strong lover cannot contain the burning love for each other even in important times.

Fluff, SMUT, size kink, praise, outside sex, desperation sex, maybe out of character Gyomei.

It’s been nearly four weeks since the training with the Hashiras began. You had been working with your husband, Gyomei, to wip these young demon slayers into shape. However, most of them have yet to show true promise and the few who you think could are still training with the other Hashira. Knowing that the only reason that they are even going through such rigorous training is because of Muzan. The mere thought of Muzan would make anyone here shiver with either anticipation for a fight or pure fear.

Today marked the third day that this batch of young demon slayers were attempting to push the massive boulder that your husband had told them to move. It’s size was impressive to say the least but to your husband it was child’s play. He was strong and was considered the strongest Hashira around.

You could definitely attest to that as through out your relationship with the strong man, you had seen him push boulders nearly five times the one that he’s making these young demon slayers push, and for much longer. He was truly an impressive man and you knew that you had been blessed to have him as yours and only yours. However, it’s had been nearly four weeks since your husband last touched you.

Four weeks since you had felt his strong arms around your body in glorious passion. You were beginning to get antsy and it didn’t help when you saw his strong arms and ripped muscles flex as he pushed boulders or showed how to say his mantra at the waterfall training area. Your body flowed with desire for him and you could tell he felt the same. Seeing him being so soft and kind to the students ignited a fire within you. Not to mention the time he was absentmindedly holding a small black and white kitten while he was giving instructions. It didn’t feel fair but you knew that waiting was the right thing to do as you didn’t want any of the students to see the two of you in such a way.

Just as you were trying to think of anything else the very man in question passed by you pushing a boulder. His face calm as he chanted his mantra. While his muscles were in full display as the veins in his arms were bulging out. God you loved him. God how much you needed him. You were glad In that moment that he couldn’t see as the look you were giving him was simply sinful. Your body felt hot as your pussy ached with the absence of his cock. You needed him, your craved him and you knew it was only a matter of time before you were going to snap. You heard footsteps behind you and turned around to see one of the young demon and quite tired demon slayer students.

“Mrs. Himejima, I’m sorry to ask you this, but when do you think dinner will be ready?” One of the young demon slayers asked you with a strained voice as politely as he could manage.

“In about five minutes, tell the others for me will you?” You responded giving the poor tired boy a sweet smile as you did your best to push down the burning desire you had for your husband.

Meanwhile…

Gyomei had just wrapped up the waterfall demonstration as he noticed some of the young demon slayer students practically sprinting to the area that he knew his sweet wife was in. He decided to go there himself needing to hear your sweet voice after a long days of hearing the complaints of others. He sighed wiping the tears that had recently streamed down his face doing his best to look presentable to you. Soon, he had made it to you as a smile was present on his face.

To him, you were the very definition of perfection. Despite your physical weakness, you were kind. And to him, that was the greatest strength that anyone could have. He admired you for that and your kindness was one of the many reasons that he fell in love with you in the first place. He may not be able to see you but his soul knew that you were his and he was yours. And like you, he was getting very impatient for you. Hearing you day and day out being so sweet to these poor kids and how much you wanted to help him made him incredibly grateful and not to mention horny. He neeed you and he knew you needed him too. Now, he was probably the most patient man out there but when it came to you, it was though all reason and logic left him completely.

The thought of the way your smaller body sucked him in like it was meant to make him take a deep breath. His cock was beginning to grow and he tried his best to rid himself of such impure thoughts but hearing you now speaking so gently, so motherly, make him want to take you into the woods and make you the mother that he knew that you wanted to be. He couldn’t take it anymore.

“Honey, would you like some too?” You asked suddenly as Gyomei had realized he was just standing here lost in the sinful thoughts of you.

“Yes my dear, thank you.” He responded after a few moments taking the massive plate of rice balls that you had made shivering slightly at the warm touch of your fingers brushing against his.

“You’re welcome! I made those just for you. I know you’ve been working really hard!” You beamed at him doing your best not to lose control at the mere sight of your husbands tall godlike stature in front of you. His sleeves were pulled up to his elbows as you had full view of his muscular arms still wet from the waterfall as his veins were in full view. You were doing your best but were practically drooling from just his arms. “Fuck.” You breathed out

“What was that, darling?” He asked putting one of his very large hands on your cheek, stroking it softly.

“N-nothing!” You chirped feeling slinky embarrassed for not keeping it together. “I hope you like them!” You quickly added

“I’m sure I will! If they are made by my sweet wife, then I know I’ll love them.” Gyomei spoke as pure adoration was lacing every word.

“Love?” You whispered

“Yes?” He asked bending down as he knew you needed to tell him something that only he needed to hear.

“I need you.” You whimpered finally admitting the thing you’ve needed to for four weeks now. “I know that we need to be professional but I can’t stand it anymore, I need you my husband. I need you. Please.” You added sounding so desperate so needy and who was Gyomei to deny you.

Without so much as a word, he set his plate gently down on a long and grabbed your hand as softly as he could and began walking into the woods a little too quickly. You began stumbling on your feet, barely tripping. Because of this, your husband quick as he could picked you up bridal style and now quicker than before, carried you far into the woods where he was positive that no one would wander. The very last thing he wanted was for someone’s innocent eyes to see what sinful acts he was about do upon his sweet wife.

Soon, he had found a suitable spot and had gently put you down on the soft grass. You hadn’t stopped looking at him the entire time as your mid was swimming with hundreds of scenarios that could happen in this very forest. Pussy was now soaking due to your excitement and impatience. Gyomei knew this as he could feel your wetness as he carried you earlier as his own make a sizable spot on his pants.

Gyomei then kneeled down and hovered over your smaller frame. He then without warning latched himself onto your neck. Kissing it roughly then softly allowing for you to fully grasp the sensation. And grasp you did as your whole body jerked with every kiss and every nip he was giving you. Your moans were loud and it was evident that he was doing well but could tell you needed more.

“Oh god, Gyomei please I need you.” You moaned out solidifying what he already knew.

“I know my love, I know.” He breathed out as he decided to start kissing down your chest more leaving a massive trail of love marks and kisses making your head spin as you grabbed a massive fistful of his spiky hair causing him to loudly grunt. He began sucking the skin on your hip making you buck up in response.

“Please!” You whined out needing more than this.

“Patience darling.” He whispered pressing kisses down your pussy causing your back to arch.

Without warning, he pushed your panties to the side and latched himself on your clit sucking it softly. His tongue began circling it making you moan your husbands name louder. Gyomei then proceeded to insert one of his large fingers into your needy hole and began pumping it in the way he knew you loved.

“Yes, yes, don’t stop. I’m gonna cum soon.” You moaned out pushing his head down against you as you began impinge is face softly.

He hummed in response as he inserted another finger slightly picking up the pace as he began scissoring your hole so that you were ready for him. Gyomei was content in his work as being intimate with you like this made him feel so accomplished. Knowing the he was the one to make you feel this good make his cock ache in his pants even more than it already had. Feeling bold, he decided that it was best to insert one more of his thick fingers.

“Gyomei!” You screeched as your climax had finally reached it peak. Your juices flowing into your husbands mouth as he greedily drank then with pleasure. Your then squeezed his head from the overstimulation you were feeling. You moaned his name over and over again as your vision went blurry and body numb from your orgasm. When he finally finished his meal, he lifted his head and gave you a sweet smile, his face covered in your pleasure.

“You did well, love. Would you like to continue?” He asked making sure you were going to be okay taking him.

“Y-yes. I need you.” You whimpered coming down from your incredible high that only Gyomei could give you.

“Good.” He spoke as his voice suddenly got deeper.

“Would you like me to take care of you?” You asked sitting up slightly as you watched him take off his clothes.

“I just need to feel you as you are. I’m getting rather impatient now my love.” Gyomei said as he suddenly picked you up as he latched his lips hungrily onto your own. You wrapped your arms around his strong neck as your boobs pressed against his hard chest.

Your eyes widen at the ferocity of his kiss. His tongue mixing with yours without warning. A moan escaped from his throat and that very sound sent shivers or pleasure down your spine. His arms gripped your smaller body as one of his hand heals you against him as the other gripped your ass firmly. You were shaking from this needing more.

“Honey..” you whined out.

But as soon as your spoke, your husband took his hand off your ass and desperately undid his pants, freeing his hard and sensitive cock. He the, rather boldly, grabbed your panties and ripped them off of your body like he was picking a flower.

“G-gyomei.” You stuttered shocked at his eagerness.

“Just need you and they were in the way of you.” He grunted and you whimpered my his show of strength. “Are you ready, dear?” He added making sure to take time to make sure you were comfortable.

“Mhmmm.” You moaned out

“Use your words sweet one.” Gyomei calmly asked.

“Yes! Please fuck me!” You cried out desperately feeling more and more desperate the longer this gets drawn out.

“Good girl.” He whispered in your ear as he lined himself with your pussy.

You felt the thick tip of his cock beginning to push in. You were more than ready to take him, wet from your previous orgasm. However, your husband, was not a small man. Meaning his cock was huge and no matter how long you prepared yourself, it would always be a slight challenge to take him. You were a smaller woman after all.

The burning sensation as his cock entered you made you suck on your breath at the pain. You gripped onto his shoulders digging into his skin. He grunted softly feeling how tight your pussy was against him a small smile graced his scarred face as the sensation he was longing for, praying for, was finally here after so long. Soon, after taking his time, his cock filled you up completely making you moan out his name. He stayed still allowing for you to adjust even more.

“Y/n, my darling, I’m going to move now. Is that okay?” He asked you softly as you felt his hands drift down to your ass once again.

“Yes!” I cried out with clear frustration in your voice.

“Good.” Gyomei responded

He then moved his hips slowly making sure that he wasn’t going to hurt you. Hearing your whimpers make him feel slightly crazy but he knew going too fast now would make you not be able to walk the next day. And he certainly didn’t want to embarrass you. However, your next words surprised him.

“Gyomei,dammit, stop being so nice to me and fuck me. I need it.” You cried out almost angry.

And that was the very encouragement he needed. Gyomei then pulled his cock out, only leaving the tip in making you whine in response before snapping his hips hard.

“Oh fuck!” You cried out as tears began pricking your eyes.

Your husband gripped your hips and ass as he began fucking you relentlessly. His pace was quick as his cock was hitting your cervix hard making your eyes roll back. He then began kissing and sucking on the most sensitive part of your neck making you moan loud. Your body was completely and utterly his in this moment as he was fucking you like never before. His grip on your ass would leave bruises and you knew that, not that you minded. Gyomei was grunting loud as he was pounding you in the air. Holding you like you weighed nothing. Using your body to his liking and god you loved it. You let him know how much you loved it scratching his back and moaning his name like a mantra. As you scratched you made sure not to hurt him.

“Harder my love, dig into my flesh!” He yelled out before crashing his lips hungrily onto yours.

And so, you did. You dig as deep and hard as you could as your husband went even faster than before making your mind and body feel like it was floating in ecstasy. The pain you felt before was long gone but you need for your husband grew and grew with each of his powerful thrusts. You began to cry due to overstimulation and the fact that you loved your husband so dearly.

“I-I love you so much.” You blabbered out as your tears poured out from your e/c eyes.

“I love you too, my darling.” Gyomei spoke out as his own tears started to flow as well. It wasn’t uncommon to see him crying but on this occasion it solidified his feelings for you. He was crying because of how much he loved you, how good you felt, and how thankful he was to have a woman like you in his life. And as he was pouring you he makes a silent prayer to God thanking him for you.

His grip on you increased as he felt himself close to cumming. His pace was erratic as the anticipation to his release was overwhelming. Your pussy was so tight, warm, and made perfectly for him. As for you, your own climax was soon as well. He was overwhelming all of your senses as you had already cum. Your body was far more sensitive than it had been in a long time due to waiting so long. You began to shake as you were getting weaker and weaker. However, you knew that even if you let go completely, your husband would hold you up due to his strength.

“Honey, m’gonna cum soon.” You blabbered out looking at his pleasure filled face.

“Me too, my darling, me too. I’m going to cum inside of you. Is that alright?” He asked quickly as his breathing became ragged.

“Y-yes. I want it.” You wined taking your turn to capture his lips with yours as you stuck your tongue in his mouth as your hands found new strength and gripped his hair roughly. His pace quickened as did his breathing. And soon you husband came as he held you closer to him as his dick was inside you fully.

“Oh my y/n, my one, my love.” He moaned out like he was praying a mantra.

You felt his thick cum filling you up like a warm embrace. You felt so full, so warm, so content. And as your husband held you, he brought one of his large hands yo your clit and began rubbing it in small circles, in the way you loved. He used the mixture of his cum and your slick to bring you pleasure. And just like that, you came hard. Your orgasm wracking your body with indescribable pleasure. His cock still stuffed deeply inside you as Gyomei could feel you tightening around him causing him to grunt as he decided to hump you slowly, enjoying the overstimulation that you were giving him.

“My love. Oh god!” You cried out still shaking from your high.

“I love you.” Gyomei whispered in your ear as he brought his left hand up to wipe the sweaty hair off your face as he placed a loving kiss on your forehead.

“I love you too. I’m so glad we did this.” You told him still in his embrace with his cock still inside you.

“Me as well. And as much as I’d love to do this again, we have students to attend too my darling love.” He said hesitantly as he gave you one more forehead kiss.

“Yeah, even if we did have time, I’m not sure my body could handle that again.” You admitted feeling tired. You laid your head on his chest taking deep breaths basking in the after glow of sex.

“Are you tired now?” He asked as he slowly pulled out making you gasp at the empty feeling.

“Yes, very.” You responded doing your best to sad on your own as he put you down. The feeling of his cum running down your legs made you shiver with the memory of recent events.

“Good I know you’ve been more restless recently. So I suggest you nap for awhile. I’ll tell the students.” He suggested as he put his clothes back on, doing his best to look at leafy semi presentable.

“I think I’ll take you up on that offer.” You yawned taking his arm to balance yourself. “But first I think I need to clean myself first.” You acknowledged feeling a bit gross due to the amount of sweat that was just on your body.

“It’s as though you read my mind, my love.” He spoke with a smile as he hoisted you up again. You were more than accepting of his gesture as your legs were too wobbly to walk properly. “There is a spring near by so we’ll go there and cleanse you, my darling.” He spoke softly sensing you were falling asleep.

“Thank you, my love.” You sleepily replied as you closed your eyes and snuggled into his warm embrace.

Gyomei then took you to that spring and clean you up all while you were too tired to do really anything. Your husband didn’t mind whatsoever as he loved doting and taking care of you. He was a lucky man and he knew that. Once you were all clean, he put your clothes back on your tired body and walked back to camp. As he did some of the students were questioning why you were in his arms and if you were okay. But he simply replied that you needed rest. Soon, he found a nice shady tree and place you under it. The grass was soft enough and this he kissed your lips and said a silent prayer to the gods for you. He then went back to the students and resumed his training to make sure these young demon slayers were ready for the fight with Muzan.

Thank you so much for reading!! I did a trade with @petitelepus so be sure to check out their content too!! 💜

Click here to see what I’ll write for and HERE for my master list.

Please feel free to like, comment, reblog, and request!

•I do NOT own any characters except y/n•

-L.W.L

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long-live-astronerd-ghost-king · 1 year ago

Text

DPXDC prompt: Friendly neighborhood forensic pathologist Danny Fenton is a new master of The Court of Owls? (Dead on main, of course) +Part 2: Talon Dick

Don’t underestimate what a ghost will do for a higher education. You see, it's the custom of the Fenton family not to run away from things they are afraid of but to face their fear. So Danny Fenton, who has learned to fear scalpels, steel clamps and surgical retractors, decides to do something about it and to dedicate his life to giving souls of those who died a violent death the final rest and justice they deserve.

Well, it didn’t really come to him at once. It started out as a simple joke:

Danny didn’t think he could continue his education after school. Frankly, his grades suck. However, Tucker for fun applied for a scholarship for gifted villains from Gotham University on his behalf.

And hell, they are willing to pay money for his education. Pay in full! Living in Park Row is also incredibly cheap. And with his flying ability, he’ll also save on transportation.

Danny is not a villain. And he’s not planning on becoming one. But he couldn’t lose that chance.

Why do you deserve this scholarship? “My parents are renowned ecto scientists, and I’ve seen their dissection work at its best. Medical school is expensive, and this scholarship will help me accomplish my goal of becoming a forensic pathologist and helping maintain the boundary between the world of the living and the world of the dead…or use it for my own ends. Of course.”

Well, Mr Two-Face was fully confident that despite his grades in the subjects, Danny was fully committed to achieving high academic achievement. Finally, work experience of Dan came in handy somewhere.

There were only few things about the death that Danny didn’t find on his own or from his ghost friends, so he managed to graduate in record time. Young Fenton thought he was lucky enough to get a job near Crime Alley. It was odd that the job was available. Even a new specialist like him was allowed to work full-time. And the salary was very decent.

~~~~~~

Danny: Yes, Jazz, everything is just fine. I found a great job and I’m trying to relax and find a hobby, you know. Started feeding the local birds. Apparently they were abused, the poor things are so shy and aggressive.

The local birds:

~~~~~~

Let’s say that a returned Jason as undead cannot be killed for forever. The stab wounds heal quickly, the bullet holes sometimes itch unpleasantly for a few days, but in general his regeneration is at a level with some metahumans. This is convenient. But when Red Hood wakes up in the morgue after a particularly severe injury, he’s not happy. Sometimes even looking in the mirror at his dissection scar is difficult for him. And this situation is a fucking nightmare. Danny: Oh. Are you awake now? I’m sorry I didn’t have time to put you on the couch, I didn’t have clean sheets and my assistant would have killed me because of the new stains. Red Hood: What the hell? I’m sorry?! It’s fucked up! I’d love to see you wake up on the dissection table. Danny: Been there Done that. But hey, I didn’t put you there. You didn’t get here on my shift, give me a break.

Jason: …So, what's now? Danny: Well, I can offer you tea or coffee. Of course, only after I sew up the hole in your stomach and give you a change of clothes. Or I could go after the documents and pretend I didn’t notice one of my bodies got away. But then don’t dream about novocaine blockade. Pretty liver by the way, you don’t see that much in crime lords. Jason: Um, thank you? But you’re weird. Usually people are praised for the beauty of the face or eyes rather than… Danny: Wow, now I feel attacked.You wake up in your helmet. I can’t compliment what I can’t see. Jason: Gee, I’m surprised your colleague hasn’t taken it off yet. Danny: And lose important evidence? It is not customary for us to put curiosity above professionalism.

~~~~~

Jason learns quickly that although Batman is willing to go anywhere to track him, there are always exceptions to the rule. The morgue was one of them. Not surprisingly, the emotional constipation and uncomfortable theme of Jason’s death worked like a perfect bat repeller. Over time, Jason becomes really interested in a guy who genuinely laughs at his death jokes and listens to his problems at work without judgment. Danny is too cute and nice.

Danny*works*: No visitors allowed here.

Jason: Unless you are a zombie, right?

Danny:...Still not one of your hideouts. The book is where you left it, make some tea if you want it.

~~~~~

Jason, once again delivered without a sign of life to Danny after the fight, woke up during pupillary reflex test.

Jason: Oh, beauty, you are just dazzling today.

Danny: As I thought, your regeneration didn’t cure your concussion before your resurrection. I’ll give you referrals for all the tests and examinations. And we really should stop seeing each other like this. Please take care of yourself.

Jason: I don’t think you have the right to prescribe them to me. Danny: Technically I do not. But we live in Gotham. And for some time the hospital where I work at night is very sensitive to my requests.

Red Hood: And why? Danny: It’s hard to explain… Red Hood: Doctor Handsome, I’ve been through some shit, so try to surprise me. Danny: Okay, okay. Look, you are a crime lord for not too long, right? But criminals and cops are afraid of you and kids and your henchmen really likes you. Jason: ..So what? Danny: Can you please recommend how to maintain a reputation but so your people aren’t afraid of you? Jason: Why do you need this information? Your assistant finally realized you’re friends with walking corpses? Danny: It’s not about that! Although, like.. you aren’t wrong? It’s complicated. I may, well, accidentally, honestly, have seized power over a local secret aristocratic criminal society.

Jason: Baby, please tell me everything. I have a restaurant as a front for a business nearby. It’s a date. Let's go. Danny: Let me finish a few stitches first, Jay.

~~~~~

Red Hood and Red Robin fight near Batman: Hood: Replacement was on patrol without permission! Red Robin: And Jason is dating the new owner of Court of Owls! Batman:.. he's doing WHAT? Jason, how could you take such a risk? it is completely unprofessional and Red Hood: At least he loves me for what’s inside me! Red Robin: Yeah, like a beautiful liver. It’s a great relationship base. Red Hood: I’m talking about my feelings and interests. Dumb lil stalker with a big mouth! I’ll teach you not to bother my boyfriend.

~~~~~

Henchman: Boss. We shouldn’t go into that area, the rumors are that there are Talons here. Red Hood: All under control, they won’t touch us. Henchman: How can you be sure? The poem says 'Beware The Court of Owls, that watches all the time, ruling Gotham from a shadow..' Red Hood: Yeah yeah "speak not a whispered word of them or they'll send The Talon for your head". I’m sleeping with their boss, of course I’m sure. Henchman: Boss, don’t kid like that. Red Hood: I don’t pay you for gossip. Let's go.

Dick, to whom the memories began to return, haunts Jason because he did not cut for Lil Wing apple slices like he likes for lunch: Talon came to finish the job. Henchmen: scream

~~~~~

Jason *shows Danny 'Red Flags' on youtube*: Hey, baby, want to be a little shit on our date? I know where Brucie Wayne’s having dinner tonight, so you can meet the family.

#dcxdp #dpxdc #dp x dc crossover #dp x dc #dc x dp #dead on main #dead on main ship #dpxdc prompts #dpxdc memes

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tremendouscreationperson · 3 months ago

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Logan x Reader pt.1

Again spoilers for Deadpool and Wolverine

Many of y'all liked my little DP/W idea so here is more, I tried to keep it GN so there isn't smut but it does sorta allude to it

Part 2 >> Masterlist

Wade has just woke up, he yet again sees Logan drinking and asks 'where they are and how they got here'. Logan vaguely points to the door and three people walk through. It's Elektra, Blade and Gambit. There are some not-so-pleasantries and eventually Laura makes herself known.

"We're missing Johnny and Y/N." Gambit drawls.

Wade makes a joke and turns back to Logan who looks like he's shat himself. "Peanut?"

"You said Y/N?" Logan settles his drink onto the first available surface and runs a hand through his hair. "We saw Johnny but not Y/N."

Later on he had slumped down and made a fire. He didn't want to be part of the heroics, he couldn't be. He wasn't worth it. Laura had tried to convince him in her unique way. He could see himself in her, see why he'd fight for her.

Logan took another swig and stared off into the treeline. It was unclear how long he just sat but eventually he noticed movement.

Wolverine stood, ready to protect the others. Why was he ready to protect the others?

Then he saw you.

You were wide eyed. Your suit was practically undamaged except for a little cut on your thigh. Not a hair out of place. There was dirt on your face and body but you were beautiful.

"Y/N." He involuntarily took a step towards you.

You stayed completely still. Wary. Why were you wary of him? “Logan.” Your voice was barely above a whisper but he heard it. Would always hear you. You were the main voice rattling around his adamantium skull.

“Y/N.” He took another step forward and tried to erase his frown, tried to ease his expression into something you wouldn't be wary of. “I'm not going to hurt you.”

Your eyes scanned him and the trees behind before you gave a nod and slowly approached, favouring your right leg.

“It's been a while.” The fire light bounced gloriously off your skin, illuminating your very being as though you were an angel. Well you were. You were perfect. Are perfect.

“For me as well.” He nodded too enthusiastically, too eager to be speaking to you. He didn't deserve this.

You lowered yourself onto a patch of grass, crossing your legs to the best of your ability, pupils glued to the flames. They danced along and lit up your eyes. Surely, you couldn't be more beautiful. Logan hadn't even realised but he had sat himself back down on his perch across from you. “I’m sorry.”

He couldn't help it, his frown was back in full force. What could you possibly have to apologise for? “I don-”

“You're not the first Wolverine to come sniffing me out.” You explained. “There's been others and they've- they've not all been friendly.”

What the fuck had he done? “I swear, I am not here to hurt you.” He placed a hand over his heart. “I promise.”

“I know. I just- it's not often you see your husband's-” Husband? “- face and he doesn't know you or is feral or-” You took a deep breath, finally meeting his gaze. “You at least recognise me.”

“Of course I do.”

“Okay, that's good.” You nod mostly to yourself before asking, “what happened in your world?”

“My world?”

You nod again.

“We're X-Men. I'm shitty. You're perfect. Scott nags me. Storm married a king and moved away, visits every so often. Jean was in the process of taking over from Charles…” If he didn't tell you they all died, maybe they didn't. Maybe they could live in your head. Maybe he wasn't a monster. “Yours?”

“Much the same really.” One shoulder lifted in a half shrug. “‘cept you weren't shitty. You were just you. Sabertooth was the shitty Howlett.”

Logan chuckled at that.

“Did you have a Laura? Or a Gabby?”

He shook his head. “Uh, no. But I've met Laura. She's nice. Fierce.”

“She's your DNA spliced with some poor unfortunate ladies. Essentially your offspring.” You informed. “Gabby is a clone of a clone. She's lovely though. Friends with Wa-Deadpool.”

“He's here.” Logan scratched his chin. “He's the reason I am.”

“Oh, you're friends as well?”

“God, no.” He shook his head. “Kinda just thrust together.”

“He always wanted to hang with you but usually just ended up with Spidey.”

Logan had heard of Spidey -Spiderman- but he hadn't met the guy, yet. If he hung out with Wade he was probably just as mad.

You both fell into a fairly comfortable silence but he didn't like that. You were here. He could actually talk to you. Actually be around you. “What happened to your leg?” He motioned to it as you carefully repositioned yourself.

“Angel.” You whispered darkly.

“Warren?”

“Yeah. Sometimes your friends aren't your friends. He had metal wings and weird tattoos. I called out to him and he just attacked. He was so quick I couldn't put up a forcefield in time.”

“I'm sorry.” It was a lame response but he had nothing else. You merely sat there, watching him, scanning his reactions. “I don't know how to convince you I am your friend. But I am. I won't harm you.”

You gave him a small lopsided smile. And he remembered.

“Wait. I do know how.” Logan rummaged around his very tiny suit pockets. He knew it was somewhere. He made sure it was always on him. Hidden away where no one would find it. Tucked into a sleeve that he kept safe by his ankle, usually people hit his torso, they don't always go for feet so he felt secure in it's position. Well, he did until he fought Wade in that fucking Honda.

Logan found it. It was scrappy and definitely worse for wear but the picture was clear. He stood and slowly walked around the fire to your side. You didn't back away but he caught your involuntary shoulder flinch.

“Here.”

You delicately took the piece of paper from his hands. It felt glossy, like magazine print. It was folded and on the visible side was a photo of you smiling wide, proud, in front of the X mansion. You unfolded it to see Logan standing next to you with a barely-there smirk. He looked almost bored but you knew him. Knew he was smiling, it was in his eyes, the softness in his face.

You were confused because he was smiling yet it was clear that he folded it to hide himself.

“Why have you folded it like that?”

Because I look awful. Because you are perfect and happy and brilliant and I pretended I didn't want the photo. Because it's the only faculty photo of me they ever took. Because they all knew I was sweet on you when you stopped me for a photo and I agreed. Because I had to take this from a yearbook after the school was raided. Because it's the only photo of us that I have and I hate that I'm in it. “Easier to fit the little pocket.”

“I have a similar one.” You confessed, knowing he was lying but that's okay. You all had secrets. “It's with my other bits, in the base.”

He felt his cheeks warm so looked away to the base. “Speaking of, it's late and you're hurt. They were planning on leaving at sun up, but I'm not sure that's still happening.”

“Why are we leaving?”

“We're storming Cassandra Nova’s lair.”

You let out a full body laugh. The noise was heavenly. “Fuck off, you come here and suddenly talk them into a full frontal assault? Brilliant.”

He rolled his eyes at you but extended a hand. “Come on, bub, let's get you updated and checked out.”

It wasn't much really, not to a bystander, but you actually accepting his hand meant the world to him and you. Both for similar and completely different reasons.

He definitely didn't need to but insisted on helping you to the base. It was hardly worth it but being back in his arms was lovely. It felt like home. He was maybe a few inches taller and definitely a little older looking than you recalled but he was your Logan. And a helpful one. He wasn't chasing you like a wild dog because you smelt nice. He was helping you limp back.

“Y/N.” Elektra spoke as soon as you entered the threshold.

“El.” You smiled widely.

She gave you a subtle look - raising her eyebrows a fraction and flickering her eyes at Logan - before taking your hand and leading you out of his arms. “We were worried.”

“You shouldn't have worried.” Rolling your eyes. “You know me.”

“That is why I was worried.”

She gave you a quick hug and assessed your leg. You had known her for five years. She had been here longer than you, travelling with Blade, and quickly intervened when she saw a Ghost Rider trying to lasso you. You three had met Johnny, who had been here a while too, and eventually met Laura. She was the only familiar face to you, it was a breath of fresh air to see her. It was a shame she didn't know you but you explained who you were and where she was and she slowly came around to trusting you. Gambit was the newest addition to your ragtag gang. He, bless him, tried to be as useful as possible and you're sure he was but there were times when you had no idea what went on in his mind. He was his own enigma.

The cut wasn't awful, a fact you had said multiple times, but Elektra still insisted on using alcohol to clean and one of the rags you recycled from an old duvet to wrap it, explaining the idiotic plan that you were all taking part of as she went.

“Oh!” Wade loudly exclaimed as Elektra tightened the makeshift bandage. “The self insert! I can't believe it, the movie’s been out like three days!”

You exchanged a glance with El and gave him an odd look as you greeted the man. “Hiya Wade.”

“Y/N.” He bowed. “I'm a little star struck.”

“Why?” Elektra stood to her full height and quickly made an exit, this wasn't the first Deadpool she had seen but this was one of the high energy ones.

“Well, you're Logan's thing.” The man behind perked up, his shoulders tense. He had been watching you the whole time and clearly wasn't a fan of DP rambling. “You're his reason to keep on. One of the reasons my Logan saved Laura. To keep his promise to you or something like that, I don't know the writing is a bit clunky.”

“Right.” You nodded, not quite understanding. But it was funny to see the mortified expression Logan was wearing. “So I'm Logan's ‘thing’.”

“Well, duh-”

“Will you shut the fuck up?” Logan ordered.

“Gosh, was he always this snappy?” Wade chirped.

“I dunno, Lo always had a soft spot for me so..”

“Awwwww.” He clasped his hands and held them at his heart. “Did you hear that she said ‘Lo’?” Wade had just turned to see the man in question but Wolverine was behind him and quickly dragging the Merc away, not quite whispering another ‘shut your fucking mouth’.

Blade, who was one to skulk hidden in corners before making himself known, had watched the interaction and gave you a fright as he stepped from the shadows. “So that's him, huh?”

“Jesus!” You whisper-yelled. “How many times have I asked you to not do that?”

“Daywalker, can't help it.” He shrugged and sat next to you on the sofa. It was old and ugly but so so comfortable.

You gave a sigh, holding your hammering heart. “Yes. He's Logan. A version of him. That actually doesn't wanna kill me.”

“Maybe you should let it play out.”

“And maybe I shouldn't.” You counter. “We'll all be dead tomorrow anyway.”

“All the more reason to."

He was correct of course. You had missed Logan so much and this one clearly had missed you. It would be folly to not spend the last night you may be alive together. In whatever way you were both comfortable with. But you didnt want to give him the satisfaction of being right, so merely huffed in response.

"Elektra told you the plan?”

“Well, Laura hardly speaks and I can't understand Gambit.”

Blade let out a low laugh. He was one of the coolest people you'd ever met, even his chuckle was cool. You were so envious.

Logan came back with red cheeks and quickly apologised. “I'm sorry, he talks so much and I don't think he actually hears himself.”

You waved him off. “It's fine.”

“No, he embarrassed you.” Logan sighed, his jaw set like he was biting the inside of his cheek.

“Logan, really. Don't worry.” You could see that he wasn't going to 'not worry' so decided to just remove yourself from the situation. Clapping Blade’s leg you stood. “Right, bed time. Big day tomorrow.”

“You aren't coming.” Logan replied immediately.

“Uhm. Pretty sure I am.”

“No, you're injured.” He stated as though that was obvious.

“This is literally the smallest injury I've had out here.”

“But you are hurt.”

“Logan.”

“Y/N.”

Blade watched the back and forth with a smirk, you were both clearly a married couple.

“I think you two should take this to Y/N’s room.” Your eyes widened dramatically. “You can argue all night when the door is shut and no one else can hear you.” The sly bastard.

“Okay.” Logan agreed. “I'll convince you to stay, where's your room?”

You let out a few noises, dying arguments, and then the biggest sigh. “Fuck my life. This way.”

The base was an old temple. You had wondered who it belonged to. The statues of her were beautiful. You had yet to see a variant of whoever this was, maybe that was a good thing. She might not take lightly to you guys using her sacred temple as a hotel. There were a few corridors you had to walk down to get to your room. You'd dragged an old mattress into it and made sure to keep the room dust free. There weren't a lot of luxuries in this world but you had an orb that when touched lit up delicately. There were a few sets of clothes you'd scavenged so you kept yourself clean and had a set of ‘pjs’. Your room was covered in marks where you had flung a knife or practised a forcefield. He assumed there weren't that many guns here, or if there were ammo was rare.

“You can't fight.” Logan started.

Oh. You were actually going to argue. “Logan, I could fight you right now.”

“Go on then.” He called your bluff.

You gave him a playful smirk. “You really wanna fight? It could be our last day alive and you wanna spend it fighting?”

“I know you can't fight with that leg.” He was so sure of himself. You couldn't wait to prove him wrong.

With a twitch of your hand you flung him towards you with a forcefield, side stepping out of his way. It took him by surprise how strong you had gotten and he had to catch himself before he hit the wall.

Logan twisted around to find you at his throat with a small blade in your hand. Your chest pressed into his, causing his back to hit the wall. “That was over pretty quick, Lo.”

Logan was in awe of your swift moves. You were tenfold who he knew. God could you get more attractive? He felt himself get warm and not from embarrassment. You were making him hot, you holding a knife to his throat was making him horny. What did that say about him?

Your eyebrows pinched minutely as you observed him swallow. “You like this, don't you?”

Was there a point in lying? “Maybe.”

“Well... Maybe I do, too.”

God he was ruined.

You were literally amazing.

How could he be so lucky? He really didn't deserve this.

Logan glanced down to your lips and you smirked. "Go on." He didn't need any other invitations. He captured your lips and kissed you with the full force of his years of loneliness.

He loved you, by god, he did.

Logan's left hand found your nape whilst his right landed on your ass. He growled as you pushed into him a fraction more.

Your leg moved by itself, wrapping around his waist as you took advantage of his growl. Kissing the exposed areas of his neck. You'd missed this. You'd missed him.

Logan hoisted you the rest of the way up and gazed into your eyes. You were looking down at him, lips plump and cheeks hot, you panted a little and fuck. He was going to fuck you. He wasn't sure he could actually pull himself away from you. You both should be sleeping, preparing for the fight tomorrow. No, you shouldn't be fighting. You should be safe. Somewhere safe and warm, waiting for him to return.

"Come with me." He begged.

"I'm sure I will." You winked.

"No, tomorrow, after the fight. Come with me, wherever I end up." He didn't want to go back but he would if you followed. If you came with him he could do it. Go anywhere. Be anyone.

"So you agree I'm fighting fit." You pecked his nose, playfully.

He huffed but found your lips again, leading you both to the mattress you called a bed.

He'd buy you a bed, a grand one. One worthy of you. He hated that you only had this. He needed to provide for you. Keep you warm, safe, loved, full. Keep you.

Logan was going to keep you and he didn't care how.

Part 2

#logan howlett #logan 2017 #logan x reader #logan #james logan howlett #james howlett #wolverine #wolverine x reader #xmen #mutant!reader #deadpool and wolverine #deadpool #deadpool 3

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nanamis-angel · 3 months ago

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𝐉𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐥 𝐢𝐭 ♡︎

𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬 ৹ you and megumi have been dating for nine months. you're happy. he's happy. you're perfect for each other. the only issue? he craves affection and he's not sure how to ask for it.

𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬 ৹ megumi x fem!reader, shy megumi, fluff, very very slight angst, cuddling, yuji and nobara mention (they share one braincell).

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 ৹ 1.4k

𝐚/𝐧 ৹ sorry I haven't written in a while, i'm currently on vacation and haven't been writing. this was in my drafts so I figured I'd post it. I'll be back soon with some more. I hope you enjoy! hearts divider by @/s-h-o-w-y

You and Megumi had been dating for quite a while now. Just two weeks ago, you had your nine-month anniversary together and you were the happiest you had ever been.

The relationship was very low-key. PDA was almost non-existent—the most he’d ever do in public was hold your hand and even then, he kept his hands to himself most days.

Affection was present in your relationship but you mostly had to ask for it. He’d give it to you without a second thought but he rarely initiated any form of affection besides a few hugs or kisses here and there.

To be honest—it bothered you at first as you believed it was something about you that made him not want to be affectionate but then you realized it was just hard for him to show physical affection because he never really knew how. He was an amazing boyfriend—he just had some struggles.

You were fine with this now and it didn’t bother you, knowing that he still loved you very much.

But what you didn’t know was how badly this affected Megumi. His fear of initiating physical affection was eating him alive from the inside out.

Megumi had a lot of emotions—believe it or not—but he didn’t know how to handle all of it so he just shoved it all down where nobody could find it. He never learned how to deal with any of it so it seemed like the only quick solution.

His mother passed away at a young age and affection or even emotion (besides anger, disappointment, or his father being unamused) was not common from his father and stepmother. Growing up he got the occasional pat on the head or a hug from Gojo and his older sister Tsumiki tried her best to show her love for him when she could—but that had ended all too soon.

He would never admit it but he absolutely craved affection—specifically from you. The poor boy was so touch-starved. His heart soared whenever you asked for a hug or to lay down together. And it tore away at his heart how badly he wanted to ask you for love but for some reason, he was scared to do so.

But one thing about Megumi was that he was persistent and he was going to get through this and overcome his anxiety one way or another. After all, you were already his girlfriend. What could possibly go wrong?

Right now, you were on a walk with him, Nobara, and Yuji. Shoko had insisted on the four of you going out and getting some sun and none of you were about to argue with the intimidating school doctor so you all quickly got out there.

You walked alongside Megumi while Nobara and Yuji goofed off a couple of feet ahead of the two of you, not paying attention to either of you at all. Megumi quietly walked with a stoic expression, keeping his hands in his pockets. He had barely said anything but that’s because his mind was racing.

You didn’t mind it at all as long as you were with him. Megumi’s gaze kept flickering down to your hand, which was at your side as you walked. He wanted to just reach down and grab your hand tightly but something stopped him. Why? He had no idea.

You were his girlfriend, he had held your hand before and nothing happened. So why would it be any different now? Anxiety over simple things never made anyone think sensible thoughts. But it was enough to make him nervous to simply reach out and grab your hand.

And the worst part? You had no idea. You simply kept walking with a big smile on your face as the two of you walked together.

Before he could stop himself, he just took his hand out of his pocket and grabbed your hand rather abruptly, not saying a single thing as if trying to ignore what just happened.

You were a little stunned—just because it was so sudden. And he had just grabbed your hand rather than lacing his fingers together with yours or something like that so you looked at him with a little bit of confusion. “Megumi?” You asked.

Noticing your eyes on him, he just avoided eye contact, feeling his cheeks heat up for some reason. All he was doing was holding your hand! Well, more like gripping it at this point.

“You don’t have to grip my hand like that, I’m not going anywhere.” You chuckled, trying to make him loosen up a bit so you could intertwine your fingers with his. Really, you were just glad that he was holding your hand and had done it himself.

Megumi didn’t reply but his grip loosened up so you could intertwine your fingers with his, properly holding hands now. You gave his hand a little squeeze and a reassuring smile. To be honest, it was really cute to see him like this but you weren’t going to say anything about it and just decided to leave it as it was.

Holding hands—it was such a simple thing but Megumi’s heart felt like it was racing. He was proud of himself for initiating things but boy was his heart pounding.

But feeling his skin against yours was so nice; feeling the warmth of your hand against his, it was so comforting. Goodness, he loved you so much. He just didn’t know how to say it sometimes.

The two of you held hands until you got back to the school. Nobara and Yuji rushed inside, not wanting to be out in the heat anymore while you and Megumi took your time getting inside. Sometimes you believed Nobara and Yuji shared one brain cell between each other—and they probably did, to be honest.

Megumi’s hand fell from yours when you got inside, which was okay, you were going to sit down to cool off anyway.

You made your way inside and to one of the rooms, walking over to one of the couches. Thankfully you had nothing else going on for the rest of the day so you could just practically pass out on the couch for a little while.

Before you sat down, you looked at Megumi, who was just standing there looking at you. “You okay, sweetheart?” You asked, slightly confused. He had been acting odd all day and it confused you. What was going on?

Again, no reply. Instead, you felt his hands suddenly grab your waist and pull you close to him, his arms enveloping you in a big hug. You stood there stunned for a moment before wrapping your arms around him tightly. It was clear that he really needed this hug.

“Megumi—,” You spoke but he cut you off.

“Don’t say anything.” He said softly, “Just don’t say anything.” He breathed out, not wanting to be asked any questions right now. All he wanted to do was hold you.

With you still in his arms, he moved and sat down on the couch, putting you on his lap and burying his face into the crook of your neck. It was so comforting, so nice. He just wanted to stay like this forever, in the safety and comfort of your arms.

You were still stunned that he was doing this but you didn’t question a thing, continuing to keep your arms locked tightly around him. Eventually, your hand made its way up to his scalp, gently raking your nails through his hair. You could feel him practically melt into your touch and you let out a little chuckle.

“Cute,” You mumbled, your voice could barely be heard.

Megumi let out a little huff and just kept his arms around you, his cheeks warm from embarrassment.

You weren’t sure how long you two were like that and eventually, you had somehow shifted to where the both of you were laying down, still holding each other in your arms. Megumi had practically fallen asleep, comfortably cuddled up right in your arms.

And he would’ve fallen asleep—had Yuji not walked into the room and seen the two of you lying together on the couch. Poor, innocent Yuji who could physically never bring himself to be quiet. “Ooh, Fushiguro! Getting comfortable with [name] there huh?” He said lightheartedly, thinking nothing of it. He really was just teasing.

Within an instant, Megumi was sitting up with an unamused expression, reaching to grab the nearest thing he could, his face pink and flushed “Shut up!”

Yuji was out of that room within seconds, just barely dodging the magazine Megumi had thrown at him.

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racew1nn3rs · 5 months ago

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─ 𝘴𝘤𝘦𝘯𝘦 𝘪𝘪. (𝘮𝘢𝘺𝘰𝘳 𝘰𝘧 𝘩𝘢𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘷𝘪𝘭𝘭𝘦) 🍊

⤷ summary: saudi arabian and australian grands prix happen! y/n starts making vlogs for the races and it reveals more about her and a certain driver's feelings than she hoped, not that she notices. poor oscar's stuck in the middle of it all but he's trying his best!

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liked by f1, landonorris, and 55,007 others

tagged landonorris and oscarpiastri

mclaren saudi arabia, you were beautiful even if the results weren't! ready for what's to come

12,567 comments

user1 admin not using a single nice photo of the drivers 😭

user2 admin be honest is this your revenge era

mclaren well, yes!

user3 HELP MEEEE

user4 the way lando looks at her 😭

user5 this is a place of business

user6 oscar looks petrified 💀

mclaren dw guys we're still training him!

oscarpiastri wtf why would u say it like that, i'm not a dog

mclaren full-time team mascot, part time driver

user7 admin drop the insta your so pretty 😭😭

user8 no literally, content of her WHERE

mclaren ynusername 🤲🏼

user9 LETS FUCKING GO

user10 HER DISSING HER OWN TEAM 💀 THEY'RE GONNA FIRE YOU GIRL

mclaren they don't pay me to LIE

user11 CRAZYY

user12 LANDO IS NEVER GETTING A GOOD PIC EVER AGAIN 😭

mclaren what can i say, i am no mans peace 🥱

user13 icon

landonorris reporting you to hr

mclaren for what

landonorris idk harrassment or something

mclaren ok keyboard warrior, lets calm down 💀

user14 KEYBOARD WARRIOR HELEPSJSM

user15 i vote admin just takes over and we don't even get driver pictures

user16 real and true

user17 i fear we may have lost the plot

user18 thoughts on today's results

mclaren i'm trying to be positive in general but man

user19 LMAOOOOO

user20 ik the pr department is shaking in their boots after every post notif

mclaren probably! but unfortunately for everyone, i am going to keep doing whatever i want

user21 no more lando beef, mclaren admin?

mclaren i forget but i never forgive. i forgot why we were fighting but i stay hating bitches 🥱

landonorris literally WHAT DID I DO

mclaren IDK BUT IK U PISSED ME OFF 🫵

oscarpiastri diabolical photo choice

oscarpiastri i look like a little kid on picture day

mclaren so basically your everyday look

oscarpiastri yk what you are making this work environment very hostile

mclaren i can make it more hostile if you want 🤨

oscarpiastri nevermind!!!

maxfewtrell most flattering lando picture i've seen in years

mclaren that's saying something isn't it 🤩

user22 i went to haterville and they all knew you admin

mclaren they actually just elected me mayor there!!! 💪🏻

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liked by bsfusername, landonorris, and 17,800 others

ynusername if my admin duties don't kill me, i promise my caffeine addiction will! (:

3,422 comments

user23 be honest, how many coffees have you had today

ynusername 3!

user24 oh that's not that bad

ynusername +5

user24 JESUS CHRSUT

bsfusername at this point i think meth would be healthier

ynusername honestly yeah

ynusername thanks for the suggestion!!

user25 nooo admin don't do meth ur so sexy aha

ynusername that just made me want to do meth more

landonorris so what i'm hearing is buying you an espresso machine would get me in your good graces 😇

user26 oh brother here he goes

ynusername you must be deaf then

landonorris 😔 2 espresso machines?

ynusername i don't want ur dirty espresso machines 🙄

oscarpiastri now what car is that 🫵

ynusername SHHHHH

oscarpiastri TRAITOR

bsf2username when your not busy being super sexy on a race track, can we go thrifting and get sweetgreen and overpriced coffee 🙏🏼🙏🏼

ynusername this could've been an email, get this out of my comments 💀

ynusername but yeah obviously

user27 admin vlogs when 😔

ynusername SOON!!! very very soon

user28 mother feeding us once again

ynusername brb, adding single mom who works two jobs, loves her kids, and never stops to my resume

danielricciardo coffee recipe where?

ynusername in your dms now ‼️

danielricciardo is this flirting

ynusername no if i was flirting i would've told you to ask me in person, i'm just being charitable

landonorris can i get the coffee recipe too then 🤲🏼

ynusername wdy want next, my mugs? keep on walking charity case

user29 CHARITY CASE IS CRAZYDFHAJ

user30 she's so effortlessly funny and mean i love her

user31 i feel like this is so unprofessional /:

ynusername babe professional where, you are on??? my personal?? account???

user32 maybe she's born with it, maybe it's the fact that she's consumed enough caffeine to tranquelize a horse

user33 oh please the horse would be dead

ynusername call an ambulance, BUT NOT FOR ME ‼️💪🏻🗣️

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ynusername posted to story!

(caption: melbourne vlog out now on youtube, go watch!!)

15,221 replies

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would you like to watch? yes or no

now loading...

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"This thing better be working," could be heard slightly muffled in between vague shuffling sounds. After a second or two of incoherent noise, the camera footage finally came on. Y/N smiled at herself in the camera as the recording light blinked to life, and raised her hand victoriously. She grabbed the smile microphone in front of her and laughed, "It looks like everything is working. Thank God, I wouldn't have known how to fix it otherwise."

"Alright everybody, welcome to the first race weekend vlog hosted by me! Your favorite McLaren admin and social manager. It took me forever to figure out how I wanted to go about this, but now I think I settled on a format that will work," She explained as she walked around the small, clean kitchen that was within frame of the camera. She pulled a glass jar out of her cabinets and left it on the counter before pulling a jug of cold brew and a cartridge of milk out of her fridge.

"It is currently 7:30 A.M on March 29th, and I have a flight to Melbourne in 3 hours. I'm already packed and ready for this weekend, but I wanted to get an introduction filmed and I wanted to take a shower before I left." Y/N paused for a moment as she poured the coffee into her mason jar until she seemed satisfied and began to add some milk. "I am totally exhausted so this is probably cup one of like," she laughed, "I don't know seven probably. And this is a pretty big jar I won't lie."

"The race weekend doesn't technically start until Friday, so I'll be getting there a bit early, but I wanted to film some content before the race weekend gets really hectic, so McLaren is sending me a little bit earlier. I'm excited though! I love the heat, even if I live in London the antithesis of Australian weather," she taste-tested her coffee and hummed in delight.

"God I really never miss with this stuff," she said contently. "Anyway, it's a bit of an early start today, but I'll have plenty of time to sleep on the fight. I mean can you believe that London to Melbourne is a nearly 22 hours," she scoffed. "I vote that we start making all of the races in one place so I don't have to feel jet lag more painful than the force of 1,000 suns every other weekend. Not that I'm complaining," she chuckled awkwardly, "I love my job McLaren please don't fire me."

Abruptly an orange tabby cat came into the frame of the camera, causing Y/N to abruptly grab her glass jar in the hopes of avoiding a mess. She gasped, but laughed as the cat scampered off as quickly as it had come. She shook her head fondly.

"That, ladies and gentleman, was Cali! My cat. She's literally my baby, and I love her more than anything else on this earth. However, she does have an affinity for hitting things off of counters and breaking them. She also hates men and nearly all other animals, so she's basically the world's biggest hazard to society. She's a good girl, I love her." Y/N explained between sips of coffee as she stared wistfully past the the frame of the camera, where it could be assumed Cali had gone.

Abruptly an alarm went off and Y/N threw her head back with a groan.

"That means I have to get in the shower and get ready so I can leave on time," she said, before taking a few more sips of coffee. "I'm going to go do that, and the next time you'll hear my beautiful voice will be at the Melbourne Airport! Cue the travel montage!"

An assortment of clips follow. Y/N is seen dragging her luggage through Heathrow Airport. Y/N is seen ordering another coffee at the airport, finishing the coffee, and ordering another before her flight. Y/N is seen responding to emails from her airplane seat, editing video footage, and responding to instragram and twitter comments. Footage is shown outside the plane window of a cloudy, blue sky and a time lapse is shown as the sky grows beautiful shades of pink and red before becoming a starry-night sky. Y/N is seen cozy in a throw blanket and a travel pillow, presumably asleep with headphones on. Y/N is shown pulling her luggage through the airport once again, with a brand new coffee cup in hand. She smiles, taking a sip before she is seen settled down in a seat in the bustling airport.

"Twenty-two or so hours later and I have finally landed in Melbourne. I'm waiting for my Uber to get here so I can finally be taken to my hotel to drop my stuff off. I have a meeting with the McLaren drivers in two hours, but luckily I slept really well on the plane. I don't know how else I would be able to deal with Lando Norris. I'm going to finish this coffee in order to maximize my tolerance for the next few hours, but I suspect I'll be getting a new coffee before I reach that meeting. My addiction truly knows no bounds," she laughs, trying to ignore the people vaguely shown within frame that are staring at her speaking to a camera.

The camera cuts abruptly and the waiting screen from SpongeBob flashes on the screen, including the narrator's voice reading "2 hours later."

Y/N is shown once again in new clothes, a new coffee cup in hand, and luggage replaced by a small canvas bag. Her comfortable plane clothes have been swapped out for jean shorts and a plain white tank-top. Her hair is clipped back out of her face, and she is adorned with simple gold jewelry and light makeup.

Y/N smiles at the camera as she walks, bustling and talking heard around her, before whispering into the small microphone, "I have arrived at the McLaren garage. It is now time to meet with Lord Lando and workplace mascot Oscar Piastri," the titles slip off her tongue sarcastically and she doesn't bother suppressing an eye-roll.

In the next clip, Oscar and Lando are seen seated on either side of her as they sit in what seems like a board-room. Lando leans over and whispers something that the camera doesn't pick up and Oscar laughs while Y/N grimaces and reaches forward to readjust the camera. When the camera comes back on, Lando and Oscar are seated together on the left of Y/N as she faces on angle toward both them and the camera.

"Don't just sit there and look pretty, say hello to the camera boys," Y/N says and Oscar cackles at the disgruntled look on Lando's face.

"Is that your way of calling me pretty Y/N," Lando chokes out between laughs, and Y/N scoffs with an eye-roll.

"I was actually talking about Oscar, but whatever floats your little papaya boat Norris," Y/N deadpans and Oscar doubles over from the force of his laughter at the pout on Lando's face.

"That's not nice at all, I hope you know that. I think I am sitting here very prettily, thank you very much," Lando says, leaning into the girl next to him to speak into her microphone.

Y/N draws the microphone back, swatting him away, "Yes, yes quite prettily," Y/N mocks in a British accent.

Oscar, still trying to recover, joins in, "Pretty little Lando Norris," and Y/N laughs jovially, reaching across Lando as if the boy weren't there to high-five the Austrialian driver.

"Bullies, the lot of you," Lando mumbles and Y/N brushes off his comment without response before finally facing the camera.

"Anyway, welcome to the first McLaren race weekend vlog. I'm Y/N L/N, the best media manager in the whole god damn world, and this is Lando Norris, the biggest pain in my ass, and Oscar Piastri, the second biggest pain in my ass. How are you feeling about Melbourne boys?" Y/N questions, transitioning smoothly much to the British driver's chagrin.

"Feeling proud to be the second biggest pain in the ass and not the first. Probably the only time i've been glad to get second actually," Oscar comments and Y/N laughs as Lando shakes his head in disappointment.

"But in all seriousness it is good to be home, this is easily my favorite race of the year seeing as it's my home race and i'm looking forward to, hopefully, good results from our team," Oscar supplies and Y/N nods along to his words.

"Yes, Australia, we are in you and we are happy about it," both boys choked out a laugh at the manager's sexual innuendo and Oscar quickly covered his mouth with his hand so as not to react too much. "What about you Lando what are you feeling," Y/N questioned, leaning the small microphone to the boy.

"Feeling like that was a stupid joke. And also like I am going to be getting P1 this weekend. I can feel it in my bones."

"Leave my jokes alone Lando, you're not being paid to be a critic," she scoffed, "and if I recall, you said the same thing in Saudi Arabia not that long ago. What's changed now?"

Lando rolled his eyes, "What's changed is that we're in Australia now and I'm feeling much more confident."

"Well thank god for that," Y/N supplied unhelpfully as Oscar laughed.

"Now, what we really came here for, it's time to film a video for this channel, it's going to be a fan Q and A, I picked the questions. By the time this vlog is up, the QnA should've already been posted. So feel free to stop watching this and to go watch that or whatever," Y/N commented. "After that we're going to film a TikTok challenge," both and Lando and Oscar grimaced, but Y/N ignored their dismay at the idea of fiming yet another TikTok, so cue the montage! Filming time!" Y/N exclaimed and the screen transitioned to a new series of clips.

In the first clip Oscar and Lando were sitting in two chairs while Y/N sat across from them with a set of notecards.

"Lando, this question from user "ln4mania" asks, "Are you and admin actually friends? Or is the online beef real? The people demand answers!" Y/N reads off with a laugh.

"Do you hear that, the people demand answers Lando! Don't keep them waiting!" Oscar and Y/N laugh as Lando shakes his head and tucks his face into his hands.

"There is no beef, guys. Me and admin, or rather me and Y/N are just fine. We hadn't even actually met when that happened," Lando supplied between laughs. Y/N looked at the camera and rolled her eyes with a shake of her head, faux-disagreeing with the boy.

She ignored the simmering pit of disappointment in her stomach. She did in fact have a problem with entitled little Lando Norris who still gave her side-eyed looks and judgmental stares whenever he saw her. If that wasn't humiliating enough, Oscar had clearly noticed it too, which just gave Y/N the feeling that she wasn't being taken seriously at all now that Oscar understood Lando's lack of respect for Y/N. However that didn't matter in the current moment. All that mattered was making this video.

The next clip showed Lando and Oscar sitting at a table with bowls of water in front of them and towels strewn across a chair just within frame of the camera. Y/N stood behind them, hands rested in their hair as she reacted to the prompts being read by someone, an unnamed media intern, off-camera.

"Who is harder to make videos with?" The intern asked and Y/N huffed out a laugh as she let her hands fully grasp Lando's curls and push him into the water quickly. He sputtered, trying to blink the water out of his eyes as Y/N laughed at the wet-puppy dog look he was sporting.

Y/N tried to shake the ridiculous desire to let her hands run through the soft curls underneath her finger tips. Curse Lando and whatever stupidly good, rich-person hair routine he used that made him smell good and look good, and... whatever.

Lando, blinking water out of his eyes, was now undoubtedly certain that being damn-near waterboarded was worth it if it meant that Y/N would laugh like that again. He knew Oscar would harass him again later for being "down-bad" or something along those lines- as he had done every time he caught the man staring-, but as he caught a glimpse of Y/N's bright smile and shaking shoulders, he found he didn't really care.

The next clip showed Oscar, Lando, Y/N, and a laughing media intern as they all dried off- somehow all having become wet through the course of filming. Y/N dried herself off quickly, taking a sip of her newly refilled coffee, not seeing the way that only the camera and Oscar saw Lando stared at her until the driver was nudged back into focus on drying himself off.

A title-card once again came on the screen with white words on a photo collage of Australian grand-prix candids that Y/N had taken, reading "Race montage? More likely than you'd think."

Footage was shown of the free practice sessions. Oscar and Lando getting in and out of their cars. Engineers along the pit wall going over data. The team speaking incoherently, going over the game plan for Sunday's race. Oscar and Lando greeting fans, signing merch, and posing for photos. Y/N smiling and waving at a cheering crowd of people before staring at the camera incredulously with a small caption reading: "Omg she's famous your honor". More clips showed Lando laughing as Oscar tossed grapes and Lando moved to catch them with his mouth. Lando nearly choking as Y/N cackled in the background. Multiple clips showing Y/N with a fresh coffee, and another... and another, as Oscar's face in the background grew with concern. Zak Brown explaining to Y/N the dangers of caffeine overdose, and the need for moderation. Y/N explaining to Zak Brown that without coffee she would simply collapse and die, which the camera showed did nothing to ease her concern. Y/N getting caps signed by the drivers for fans and walking away with intricate friendship bracelets decorating her wrists.

And finally footage of the race. The engineers in the garage. The pit-crew changing tires. The cars racing past as Y/N watched attentively. Footage of the crowd as they cheered when the cars whizzed past. Smiling faces of fans. Y/N's cheers as Oscar and Lando passed. The smiling faces of McLaren employees as Lando and Oscar crossed the checkered flag in P6 and P8 respectively.

Y/N accepting hugs from both drivers, ignoring the burning sensation in her stomach as Lando wrapped his arms around her with a smile and a laugh. Y/N calling Lando smelly and telling him to go wash off if he wants to hug her next time, and him rolling his eyes at her fondly before making a face at the camera. The podium celebration is shown and Y/N smiles as the anthem plays, even though it's not for her own team.

The final clip is shown of Y/N in her hotel room, comfortable in sweats as she sits on the unmade bed.

"Not bad results this week guys! P6 for Lando and P8 for Oscar, which are good points for the team. I'm happy on my end, I think we got some good content filmed, and I am now ready to go to sleep so I can get home to Cali and my own bed quicker. I hope you enjoyed this video, and if you didn't don't tell me because I don't care!" Y/N jokes with a smile.

"Hopefully I will see you all at the next race, if not the race after that! Bye papaya fans, and be sure to follow us on instagram and all of the other social platforms!" Y/N exclaimed, gesturing to the list of the social media handles that appeared on her right hand side.

And with that, the camera cut to black.

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liked by oscarpiastri, maxverstappen1, and 29,145 others

ynusername afraid to report that i fought jetlag and lost 😔 i did sleep for 25 hours straight after melbourne and i had no clue where i was when i woke up! shout out cali for waking me up 🙏🏼 best friend frl

9,547 comments

bsfusername i'm going to try not to be offended by that caption (love you bb cali) but FUCK YOU CAUSE I BOUGHT YOUR ASS BREAKFAST

ynusername my bad! s/o to that bomb ass omlette 🤩

bsfusername never doing shit for you again

user34 that vlog was god tier, how long did that take

ynusername it took 7 hours of editing and years off my life, thanks so much for asking 🥳

maxverstappen1 thanks again for those podium photos! you have a gift for photography 💪🏻

ynusername don't mention it! 👍🏼

ynusername (no seriously, mclaren might behead me)

mclaren beheading is so last year. firing squad. 🗣️

user35 not y/n threatening herself 💀

oscarpiastri suprised your body didn't naturally wake up for coffee

ynusername it did! just 25 hours later

user36 your poor cat was literally starving for a whole day? youre a horrible owner

ynusername let me introduce you to god's greatest creation: the automatic feeder!!! i'm sure they can mail one to whatever fucking rock you live under!

user37 PERIODDDD

user38 me personally? i'd never log on again

user39 she needs a personal channel 🙏🏼🙏🏼 i'd subscribe

user40 her cat is so cute 😭😭😭 gimme that

ynusername 🫵 STAY BACK HEATHEN, NO ONE TOUCHES CALI AND LIVES

user40 my bad fam 🧍🏻‍♀️

user41 i want someone to love me as much as she loves that mean ass cat

landonorris don't you have a job to be doing 💀💀 she slept through a full work day

user42 lando always on her ass and for whattttt

user43 obsessed obsessed obsessed

ynusername i had the day off! but not the guy who was streaming video games coming for me 🥱 talking bout get a job

user44 lando and y/n beefing on insta again? we're so back

user45 at this point instagram comment beef isn't enough, they need to duel or some shit

user46 the caffeine addiction almost got her guys

ynusername i wish it would, then i wouldn't have to work with lando's annoying ass

landonorris I CAN SEE YOUR COMMENTS???

ynusername THAT'S THE POINT

user47 honestly just give her a gun atp, these men test her too damn much

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user48 NURSE 🫵 SHE'S RIGHT HERE

user49 no fr, like let's get back to bed grandma

user50 OP, are you concussed?

user51 no actually cause didn't y/n just say she wanted to khs working with him 💀💀

pastryboy81 that sign can't stop me, because i can't read!

user53 OK I ACTUALLY SEE THE VISION

user54 ARE YOUR EYES CLOSED???!1!1

user55 i fear i totally get it 😔

user56 it's giving enemies to lovers, secret relationship type vibe lowkkkk

user57 no deadass like he hugged her reallll tight

user58 she also hugged oscar 😭😭?? and he has a whole gf

user59 the way she shoved him off and told him he reeked not 5 seconds after 💀 delusion is a disease yall

user60 someone call the f1 gossip pages cause 😗

user61 more like someone call the ward cause somethings real off with yall 🤨

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sorry that this update took forever, i had surgery and recovery has been rougher than i expected! hope you enjoy!!

please leave your thoughts in the comments and feel free to drop a request for your fav in my asks <3

𝙩𝙖𝙜 𝙡𝙞𝙨𝙩

@lemon-lav @slutforpopculture @m4rt10ne @urfavsgf @sadsierra2 @96jnie @sltwins @poppyflower-22 @alliumiae @livelovesports @liberty-barnes @the-holy-trinity-l @iliwyss @awritingtree @redpool @elliotts1one @velentine @chaoticmessneutralplease @5sospenguinqueen @charizznorizz @2pagenumb @mxdi0 @cwiphswmwasohmm @tremendousstarlighttragedy @lnspipedrm @itseightbeats @tinycoffeeroom @woozarts @personwhoisther @a-beaverhausen @love-simon @annabellelee @ravisinghs-wife @chezmardybum @greantii @weekendlusting @monserelates @sapphiccloud @halleest @deamus-liv @gigigreens @morenofilm @laneyspaulding19 @lanireadss @dear-fifi @moldyshorts1997 @oliviarodrigostan13 @eugene-emt-roe @ilivbullyingjeongin @im-a-ghost666

#f1 x female reader #f1 x reader #f1 x y/n #formula 1 #f1 #f1 smut #f1 x you #formula one #f1 imagine #f1 smau #lando norris smau #lando norris x you #lando norris x y/n #lando norris fanfic #lando norris x reader #lando norris #lando norris imagine #racew1nn3rs #racew1nn3rs: fake it till you make it

2K notes · View notes

kissitbttr · 1 year ago

Text

a very tired miguel who gets home from work and gets babied by his woman

It's close to 9pm as you're lying on your bed. keeping your focus on the book you're reading, one that you failed to keep as a part of your routine due to your busy schedule with work. being a fashion designer has it's perks but it also has its dark sides too. especially when it comes to dealing with snobby ass clients

as you are about to flip to another page, you hear the front door opened. keys rattling against the ceramic bowl with a loud sigh follows after. a soft smile appears on your face soon as you realize who it is

“miguel? Is that you?” you softly call out your husband’s name while putting the book down.

"si, mi amor" he appears shortly by the doorway. your tall and handsome fiancee adorned in an unbuttoned white shirt that showcase a bit of his chest and paired with black trousers. a simple work attire but never fail to make your knees wobble. the sight could put any Greek Gods known to a man to shame.

your heart breaks a little seeing how tired he looks. his eye-bags are coming off too strong. a constant reminder on how he has been working himself far too hard despite you telling him to take it easy. but that's just how he is, stubborn.

"how's work my love?" you ask, watching him undress himself, revealing his exposed toned chest before putting the clothes away with the rest of his dirty ones in the bathroom. "I take it, it wasn't a good day?"

"you could say that" he replies tiredly, grabbing a pair of sweatpants off the chair and slipping it on. "trying to get ahold with the new recruits is a fucking job, Peter's been getting on my nerves and I'm working on advancing the technology we have right now in order for it to be easier to identify every single anomaly's DNA we've come across to. But the amount of hypotheses and research I've done are nowhere near close to how I want them to be."

"i would ask Tony Stark for help but que cabron esta muerto" he breathes out a sigh, pinching the thick skin between his brows. "I'm drained, mi amor... i can't fucking do this shit everytime--"

"no hey.. stop" you shake your head, hate having to see your man fronting a distressed look in his face. “come here, Miggy” you pout at him patting your chest for him to lay his head,

he sighs heavily. plopping into the bed and carefully lays himself on top of you. pounding head finding comfort in the warmth of your chest, snaking his big arms around your waist.

you put your arms around him, locking him tightly as your soft lips kiss his forehead making him purr.

“my pretty baby. exhausted aren't you? hm?” you ask in a cooing tone. he hums -- which sounded like a growl to you-- with a nod before nuzzling himself closer. “oh my poor poor baby... my handsome man. always working himself to the bone” another kiss on the forehead

“come up a little closer, hm?” you ask as he barely shifts his body. too lazy and far too comfortable in your arms like this for him to move.

you run your fingers through his soft hair, moving a piece that’s covering his forehead. looking down to see him close his eyes, yet not sleeping.

it’s so funny to see how this freakishly large- broad man who always seems to bring a cold presence that scares everyone off at work—which is technically true— then turns into a huge softie and a love puddle for you in a split seconds.

it’s truly a privilege that you’re the only one who gets to see and feel this

“look how cute you are, baby… do you know how cute you are, hm?” you coo at him, lips kissing his nose and the sharpness of his cheekbone. trying your best to console him in hopes of washing his stress away.

he lightly shakes his head. “no” a curt reply rolls of his mouth, drawing your body closer to him if that's even possible.

you pretend to gasp dramatically at his answer. fingers still stroking his hair lightly. “you don’t?! oh no! we have to fix that! you’re the cutest *kiss* most handsome *kiss* hardworking *kiss* man I’ve ever known” showering him with compliments in between kisses. he breathes out a small chuckle that muffles against your chest.

it’s obvious that miguel rarely gets treatments like this, he’s no one to shy from things but you're his only exception. the only person who truly can get him blush like a little kid when he's shown the slightest bit of affection.

“who’s baby are you hm? are you my baby?” a smile graces your lips as your eyes casting down to his pretty features.

“me. I’m your baby” he mumbles, tightening his grip around you. "always be your baby"

inspired by @webslingingslasher their frat!peter work yall is making me [REDACTED] please go take a look!!

#miguel o’hara x reader #miguel o'hara x fem!reader #miguel o'hara blurbs #miguel o’hara imagine #miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara fluff

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niningtori · 6 months ago

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make you cry | part one

part two: beomgyu's ending | part three: hyuka's ending

pairing: beomgyu x you, huening kai x you in alternate ending

summary: beomgyu is your manwhore best friend who you've been secretly in love with for years. one night, he asks you to blur the lines between friendship and physical intimacy for his own convenience.

genre: ANGST, romance, smut (mdni), fwb

warnings: smut (mdni), unprotected sex, creampie, dom!gyu, eventual sub!gyu, fingering (vaginal), dacryphilia, dirty talk, praise, if i missed anything lmk!

word count: 4.2k

notes: hi friends! i'm not completely satisfied with this, but i'd rather it be done than sitting in my drafts. pls don't be mean ;_;

being in love with your best friend is not for the faint of heart, you think. in some cases, it’s the easiest thing in the world, but beomgyu makes it difficult. he’s not a bad guy, at least not deep down, but as you watch him break the heart of another notch in his belt, you can’t help but shiver at the fact that he’d very easily do the same to you if you gave him that chance. not that you ever will, that is, but the thought still remains.

you met in grade school. for you, it was a classic case of love at first sight. you had just fallen off the swingset and the teacher had yet to notice you, so you were crying alone when he came up to you with a dinosaur bandaid in tow. he looked like an angel with the sun encircling him, and even as a child, you thought he was the most beautiful thing you’d ever seen as he held his little hand out for you to grasp. you had no chance to steel your heart when he asked you if you wanted to be friends, and after that, the rest is history.

that was years ago, but the image of him holding out his hand is engraved in your bones. you think about it even now as you watch him make the poor, unfortunate girl in front of you bawl like a baby. she asks him why he's doing this, what she did wrong, how she can fix it to make him stay. but he's dead set on breaking her heart tonight. and you'll be the one who takes his tipsy ass home after he's done ruining this girl’s perception of love. you’re nothing more than a glorified lackey and enabler, but that's just how it is.

“god, i don’t know why they can never just let go. they always have to make it so hard,” he grumbles in the passenger’s seat of your car. he seems more annoyed than genuinely upset and you can’t help but to feel for the girl who he just unceremoniously dumped in the middle of a house party, so you speak up for once.

“it’s not her fault, beoms. she just really likes you,” you reason. not that it matters, anyway, but you feel better after speaking your mind.

“so it’s my fault? i just don’t get it. i told her no strings attached from the beginning. the fact that she took it seriously is her own problem.” well, nevermind about feeling better. you feel even worse for her now.

“it’s hard not to get attached to you,” you mumble.

“what?” he asks, not even really paying attention to what you’re saying, but still asking for the sake of being (what he thinks is) polite.

“no, it’s nothing,” you reply quickly.

“mmm,” he nods, completely preoccupied with his own issues to really give a fuck about what you have to say. then, as if by a stroke of genius, he says his next words without much thought.

“i just thought of something! you would never act like that with me, would you?” you can’t help but scowl. of course you’d act like that. you’re a normal human being with normal feelings. you’ve already fallen for beomgyu without the physical intimacy, so you can’t imagine how you’d act if you actually had sex with him. but you can’t tell him that, or else he’d start suspecting something.

“i guess not,” you sigh.

“then why don’t we hook up instead?” he asks, genuinely earnest.

“no,” you say simply.

“why not?” he frowns, somewhat offended.

“i’m not interested,” you shrug. you don’t realize that your indifference has the opposite effect on beomgyu. what he perceives as your disgust only interests him more.

“c’mon, i’d definitely show you a good time,” he argues.

“i’m fine, thanks.”

“no, you’re not fine. you haven’t slept with anybody in months. not since what’s-his-name, right? it’s the perfect deal. i’ll give you the time of your life and i’ll get to fuck without any feelings involved.” you try your hardest not to say it’s too late for that. those words will never leave your mouth, though. or else he’d drop you like a hot potato.

“i said no and i mean no. besides, i kind of like somebody right now.” you’re not lying, really. you truly do like, even love, somebody right now, and he’s sitting right next to you.

“who is he?” he asks. “actually, your taste in men is so shit, i don't even wanna know.” usually, that would hurt your feelings, but this whole situation is so fucked up you can’t even find it in you to stifle your laugh.

“true.” he cocks an eyebrow at your answer. you should, in theory, vehemently deny this. just how shitty is this guy for you to not even put up a fight?

“okay, i lied. now i really wanna know. who is he? yeonjun?” he asks. you giggle even more.

“no. yeonjun is sweet, but no. and i’m not telling you, so you should give up.”

“you think yeonjun is sweet in comparison? damn, this guy must be fucking scum,” he laughs. you can’t help but shake your head with an airy laugh of your own. yeah, he’s so awful he even makes yeonjun look sweet. at least it seems like yeonjun has a conscience when he fucks somebody over. beomgyu, for the most part, has none.

“he’s not all bad,” you say softly, still smiling and resting your head on the headrest of your car.

“but still bad,” he argues.

“mhmm,” you hum. “still bad.”

beomgyu doesn’t mention hooking up again after that, and for that you are thankful, you think. is there a part of you that regrets not saying yes? in a way, you do. who wouldn’t want to be even closer to the one they love? but you know the closeness would be a lie. even if you were in closer proximity physically, he’d still be far away emotionally. too far to ever catch him. and so you sit at the counter of this shitty bar and watch him try to woo one of the prettiest girls you’ve ever seen, and by the looks of it, it’s working. you smile bitterly and down another shot, making your stomach feel hotter and hotter. you know that by the end of the night, you’ll feel sick, but you’d rather be physically sick and drunk rather than emotionally sick and sober.

“you okay?” kai asks, sliding into the seat next to yours and cutting into your daze with ease.

“aren’t i always?” you answer with a wry smile.

“it’s that bad, huh?” he asks. beomgyu is your best friend, sure, but kai is the only person in the world who knows about your feelings for him. he also feels like the only person in the world who would understand them.

“yeah, it is,” you mumble, downing yet another drink as you watch beomgyu grinding on the girl salaciously.

“wanna get out of here?” he asks sympathetically. you should say no. beomgyu will be angry that you left him, even if he’d ditch you in a heartbeat to get laid. but now, as you watch him shoving his tongue in the red-lipped mouth of the girl who will now be the impossible standard you’ll hold yourself to from hereon out, you can’t bring yourself to care.

“i do,” you smile, for real this time, and his grin matches yours.

you’re so drunk, you barely remember how you got home, but you’re here and so is hyuka. you don’t cry, even if he kind of wishes you would just so you could let it all out. you laugh, even, as he tells his dorky jokes and beats your ass in mario kart. things are going so well, you don’t even hear the pounding on your door until kai says something about it.

“i’ll get it,” he says soothingly when you unsteadily try to stand up.

“thanks, hyuka,” you smile. and that smile stays planted on your face until you see who’s at the door. beomgyu. and by the looks of it, he’s pissed.

“what the fuck is your problem?! how could you just leave me there alone?” he asks as soon as he’s let in. your face sinks and all prior happiness is washed away in an instant.

“you weren’t alone,” kai cuts in defensively. “she was alone until i came and got her.” beomgyu is actually a little embarrassed by this blatant callout, but he’d sooner die than admit it.

“well, she should’ve said something, at least,” he counters, face still hot and voice still as loud as ever.

“i thought you were going home with that girl,” you reply meekly.

“and you couldn’t just ask?!” he snaps.

“you’re being an asshole,” kai argues. “nobody wants to watch you tonguing down some random girl, and she’s not your babysitter.” the room is deathly quiet after this. beomgyu is fishing for words, but he’s too drunk to quite think of any at the moment. he wishes he were sober so he could put kai in his place, but the words never come. all he knows is he’s pissed beyond anything he can properly articulate and it’s driving him crazy.

“you’re drunk,” kai adds sternly. “go home.”

“hyuka, it's okay,” you say gently. “he's too drunk for that. he can crash on the couch.” beomgyu doesn't know why, but he scowls at the nickname.

“but —”

“it's okay,” you repeat. kai’s face looks torn.

“alright, then i'll head out,” he relents after a few seconds. “the both of you just need some sleep,” he says with a sharp glance towards beomgyu, who is still fuming, by the way.

“thank you,” you say with a terse smile. he returns it with a smile of his own and shuts the door behind him. beomgyu watches the entire interaction and somehow feels even worse.

“what the fuck was that? is he the guy you’re hung up on or something?”

“no!” you exclaim incredulously. “hyuka is a nice guy, and he’s just… helping me with some things right now.” you’re not the most eloquent person on a good day, much less while drunk, so that’s all you can really say at the moment.

“what ‘things’ could he possibly be helping you with?” he snaps before realization dawns on him. “you told him about that guy, didn’t you?! you can tell him but you can’t tell me?”

“he… he just understands,” you say. you knew beomgyu wouldn’t just let this shit go and be done with it. he’s like a child finding out his dog likes somebody better than he likes him, and it’s exhausting.

“are you sleeping with him?”

“what, no!” you say firmly.

“you are, aren’t you?” he sneers. “you won’t let me touch you, but you’re letting him?”

“is it so hard to believe that a man just wants to be my friend without wanting to fuck me?” truthfully, yes. you’re good looking and his experience tells him that men always harbor those intentions. well, he does, at least. and for some reason, as he looks at you in your big t-shirt and sweatpants, those intentions are brewing even more.

“beomgyu?” you ask tentatively. his eyes are so intense it seems like he’s even more pissed off, somehow. your innocent look stokes the flames of what’s already been burning for you.

as if he’s possessed, he stalks his way over to you, grabs your face before you can even react, and plants a bruising kiss on your soft lips. you gasp when he meanly takes your bottom lip between his teeth and he can’t help but chuckle. the kiss is cruel for so many reasons, but you’d be lying if you said it didn’t knock you off of your feet. you’re usually so restrained around him for reasons only you and kai know, but you feel your inhibitions melt as his tongue enters your mouth. he tastes like alcohol, but then, so do you, and he doesn’t seem to mind. in fact, if his hungry kiss in any indication, he seems to love it.

one of his hands travel under your big hoodie and he tweaks your already hardened nipple between his fingers.

“does that feel good, baby?” he asks lowly, and you feel yourself becoming even more wet. you're too embarrassed to respond, but judging from his tone, he already knows your answer.

his kisses are unrelenting and fierce, no gentleness or care to be seen, but you’re so sweet he can’t control himself. he’s been wanting to do this ever since he hit puberty, but you’ve never seemed interested in him for reasons he can’t understand. but now, you seem more than interested as you let him lead you to your bedroom. he lays you down on your bed and takes off your sweatpants. when he sees you, naked and glistening just from a few touches, he licks his lips in anticipation.

“all this from a few kisses?” he teases, rubbing his fingers up and down your slit. you can do nothing but gasp in response as he pushes one of his long, calloused fingers into your heat.

“s-so tight, it’s sucking me in,” he moans. “i can’t wait to see how you feel around my cock.” he adds a second finger and curls, hitting your sweet spot. all you can do is moan as he takes his thumb and rolls your clit. he watches your body rise and fall with the pleasure and it fascinates him like nothing he’s ever seen. your eyes are screwed shut, but he can’t help but prod and tease to see the different facial expressions you show him. before long, he’s pounding into you. the sound of squelches mixed with your moans only goads him further and further until you’re clenching down mercilessly on his fingers.

“aww, does that feel good, baby?” he coos. “wanna feel even better?” post-release clarity should hit you right about now, but you’re only more eager when he removes his clothes. his lengthy cock, angry and reddened, springs up and slaps his stomach. you whimper at the sight and he smirks at how needy you are.

he hovers over you and slowly, agonizingly slowly, he begins to rub his stiffened length up and down your slit.

“gyu, you need a condom —” you begin to protest.

“why? i’m clean. and i don’t fuck just anyone raw,” he argues as the head of his cock comes dangerously close to hooking on your entrance. you’ve never been able to say no to him for any meaningful amount of time, so relenting isn’t out of the ordinary for you. but more than that, his words, though unromantic, spark a bit of hope in your heart. you’re special, you think.

“do you trust me?” he asks.

no. not at all.

“of course.” and he pushes in. his arrogance falters as you take him in, inch by throbbing inch. it’s a tight fit, and the way you clench around the tip of his cock only drives him further and further into madness. how can you feel so good? how can this feel so perfect?

your poor pussy is equal parts trying to suck him in and trying to resist so the intrusion is forced out. to him, it feels like heaven.

“t-tight!” he hisses. “relax, baby, or you’re gonna break me.” for some reason, his words comfort you, allowing him smooth entry until he’s completely sheathed in you. you both moan when he completely bottoms out, balls hitting your ass in the most lewd way. his precum mixed with the result of your release seep into the bedsheets. he stays there for just a moment, pushing your hair out of your face, and his next words are uncommonly tender.

“you look so pretty like this,” he muses, and you don’t even have time to blush before he’s unsteadily pulling out, pussy pulling him back in like it never wants him to leave, then thrusting back in again.

“oh m-my god,” he says as he begins to ram into you. “so good, baby. you’re taking me so well.”

“b-big!” is all you can manage to say as he continues to fuck you open.

“oh baby, are you going dumb on my cock? can’t even manage to get the words out, can you? it’s okay, don’t think. i’ll take care. of. you,” he says, punctuating each word with his mean thrusts.

you’re crying now, the pleasure too great to stifle your tears. beomgyu thinks you look absolutely lovely like this, lovelier than anyone he’s ever seen, especially when he looks at where you two are joined and watches himself enter and exit your puffy pussy. each gasp, each breathy whine you emit makes him feel crazier and crazier. he aches so much, he has no choice but to continue pounding into you until he's relieved. so he does. he’s gripping the plush of your thighs like he might die if he doesn’t have something to hold onto.

he leans over to give you a nasty kiss, all tongue and teeth. when he parts from you, a lewd string of saliva falls from your mouths and he can’t control the chuckle that escapes him when he sees your pupils are blown out as you flounder for his lips again.

“look, baby. look at how good i’m fucking you.” you look down and see how his cock protrudes from your tummy as he rams in and out of you. “nobody else has fucked you right, but don’t worry, i’ll make sure to fix that.” your pussy involuntarily clenches at his filthy words and it’s enough to make you come.

“c-coming!” you manage to choke out as you spasm around him, back arching deliciously. he follows soon after, thrusts becoming uneven before you feel his cum shooting inside of you.

fucking beomgyu comes naturally, and often. he can’t seem to keep his hands off of you. hooking up becomes almost a daily affair, but you’re so hungry for him you can’t bring yourself to protest. you fuck in his car, on his couch, over the fucking kitchen counter, even. all plans to go out with anyone else are immediately dashed in favor of being with him, instead. you feel yourself falling deeper and deeper in love with him, and even if you know, know, know it’s fruitless, you can’t help but relent when he looks at you like a man starved.

“this can’t be good for you,” kai tells you one evening in the comfort of your apartment. it’s a rare occurrence to have a free night from beomgyu’s clutches. kai hasn’t seen you in weeks because you’ve been too “busy” with beomgyu.

“well, i know,” you sigh, too tired to argue with him.

“if you know, then why do you do it?” he asks tentatively. you can’t help but give him a look.

“you know why,” you say.

“he's just messing with your head. you know this can't end well.” you flinch at the word “end”. you know it, he knows it, beomgyu surely fucking knows it, but you can’t help but give in every time. “what are you gonna do when he inevitably fucks you over? and he will, just like always.”

“i… i’ll deal with it when the time comes,” you protest. he sees your defeated expression and lightly tilts your head so it’s resting on his shoulder. your retribution for your actions was always well on its way, but you didn’t know it would come so soon.

you hear a key turning in the door. there’s only one person in the world you’ve given a spare to, so you aren’t surprised in the slightest when beomgyu walks in with that signature smirk on his face. he scowls a bit when he’s greeted with the scene of you and kai sitting so intimately.

“am i interrupting something?” he scoffs as you raise your head from kai’s shoulder.

“no,” kai replies before you can even fix your lips to respond. to your mild surprise, he doesn't push any further.

“whatever,” he shrugs, plopping down next to the two of you and pulling out his phone.

“wanna see this girl whose number i got today?” he asks casually, swiping through his phone eagerly. so that's why he didn't wanna meet up. your heart feels like a hole’s been blown straight through it. you and kai share a deep look, which beomgyu completely misses as he pulls up a picture of a beautiful looking girl.

“this is her,” he says with a triumphant smirk. you don’t — can’t — respond. you just have a blank look on your face.

“what?” he asks petulantly. “she’s really pretty, look!” he insists, pulling up another picture. “she’s one of the hottest girls i’ve seen in a minute.”

any last shred of hope or dignity you have is strangled in its crib at his careless words. your eyes are hot and your stomach hurts so much you feel like you’re going to vomit. kai notices your discomfort and decides to put a stop to this once and for all.

“alright, that’s enough,” kai snaps. “nobody wants to see that shit.”

“what’s your fucking problem?” beomgyu retorts.

“my problem is that you’re a fucking moron. grow up.” beomgyu’s not one to get physical, at least not in a violent sense, but he’s on the precipice of breaking that streak at kai’s harsh words.

“stop, hyuka. it’s okay,” you say softly. beomgyu is so furious, he almost forgot you’re here, but he's genuinely confused by kai’s words.

“what's okay? what is it that you're not telling me?” beomgyu asks.

“it's not okay, actually. he’s fucking you but he comes around and pulls this shit right in front of you?! she won’t say it, but i will.”

“kai, don’t —”

“she doesn’t care! no strings attached, that’s always been the deal.”

“you may be stupid as fuck, but surely you’re not that stupid,” kai sneers. “so if you say you don’t already know, you’re just a fucking liar.” beomgyu pauses at this. is he saying what he thinks he’s saying? surely you didn’t catch feelings, right? but one look at your face, and he knows kai is telling the truth.

but why? and when?

“since when did you…”

“since always,” you say quietly.

“oh, fuck. look, i —”

“it’s okay. i already know,” you cut in. and you do already know, but you can’t bear to hear him say it. beomgyu, in all his glory, processes this and instead of regret, all he feels is anger.

“i’m the piece of shit guy you can’t get over? are you fucking serious?”

“hyuka, you should go,” you say instead of letting him watch the melodrama unfolding before him. kai looks uncertainly between the both of you before relenting.

“call me later, okay?” he says, wiping tears from your eyes that you didn’t realize had fallen.

“okay,” you reply with a sad smile. he sends beomgyu one last scathing look before gathering his shit and slamming the door behind him.

“you tricked me!” beomgyu exclaims as soon as the door shuts. “i would’ve never fucked you if i knew you’d be like this.” just like everyone else. he doesn’t need to voice the last part, but you already know he wants to say it, which just hurts you even more.

“did you really not know, or were you just pretending not to know ‘cause it’d be inconvenient for you?” that shuts him up. kai was right, he’d be stupid not to know. maybe not at first, but surely along the way. surely when you’d look at him so longingly after sleeping with him, or the way you’d look so sad when he didn't stay after sex.

“listen, i’m so sorry that you’re scared, or angry, or whatever it is you’re feeling. i really am. but are you so selfish that you really think nobody else is afraid to have their heart broken? and do you think that means you’re allowed to hurt everyone else instead?” you ask quietly. every new word pierces his heart like nothing he's ever felt before. he wants to say something, but for the life of him, he can’t think of anything quite fitting.

“i think you should leave,” you say after what feels like an eternity of silence. he looks at you with watery eyes and you almost feel guilty, but you’re through with feeling things for him that he’d never have the courtesy to feel for you. “go,” you repeat defeatedly, striding to the door and holding it open for him and he feels more and more like a rat you want to chase out of your home.

he looks like he wants to say something, but one look at you tells him you’re done listening. with heavy feet and an even heavier heart, he heads through the doorway, pausing only before he’s about to cross the threshold. he has a sinking feeling in his gut that tells him this is probably the last time he’ll be here.

“are we still friends after this?” he asks lowly, eyes wide and more desperate than you’ve ever seen them.

“no,” you say simply, and shut the door.

notes: not a ton of smut in this part, but i think the next part will have more i fear.

taglist: @my313 @superbbananananana @lonelybutterflytae @cherrycolaberry @everythingvirgoes @beomnoullitheorem @sunny4cast

#niningtori #make you cry #beomgyu smut #beomgyu angst #beomgyu hard thoughts #txt hard hours #beomgyu hard hours #txt hard thoughts #txt smut #txt angst #txt x reader #beomgyu x reader #mdni #huening kai x reader #hueningkai x reader #nini's hard hours

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