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msmargaretmurry · 10 months

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I hated HIM soo much!! something about the way the authors wrote gay and bi people rubbed me the wrong way and I could never get over it. But I will say I loved heated rivalry (the game changers book) with my whole heart, even though the other books in the series were not for me. The main couple never reminded me of sid/ovi mainly because it’s impossible for me to visualize sidney crosby in any kind of sexual scenario :/

✨🌟💕💖HIM haters unite!!!💖💕🌟✨

scream, sorry to sidney crosby but this is so funny to me. i support you. you're so valid.

i told someone else that when i answered this ask that i'd elaborate a little on why HIM didn't work for me, but i'm going to put that stuff under a cut in case there are secret HIM fans on here who are getting really tired of me dragging a book they like, lmao.

ok so it has been a while since i read it so i might not remember all the details, but here were my biggest turn-offs for that book. some of these are things i would let slide if other parts of the book were better. like, i WILL let clunky writing slide if the story/characters are really good (but if the story/characters are also bad i just get more pissy about it the more i read). some of these though... eesh.

the writing. sorry, the writing was not very good!! if i am reading a book and i can't stop line-editing in my head as i go, the story is gonna have to do some really heavy lifting to win me over. the worst part for me was how there were a whole bunch of instances where i would read a sentence and go "hm, that's a weird word choice" because the word choices were just like... slightly off of what they were probably supposed to mean? like someone had pulled then from a thesaurus without actually understanding the nuance in meaning between the synonyms. it was really distracting.

the pacing/worldbuilding. this book constantly did the thing where it introduced a person, place, or concept the moment it became important instead of building those things into the story along the way so that when they became important it didn't feel like it was being made up on the spot. once again, really distracting!

the protagonists. the first few chapters made an attempt at developing distinct voices for the two protagonists but that was all out the window by like a quarter of the way through. they had minor personality differences but other than that were near-identical cringeworthy sports bro stereotypes.

the way every woman was treated in the story???? gross

the way bisexuality was treated in the story?????? GROSS

the HOCKEY. this book actually lulled me into a sense of false security because the first few chapters did a decent job with the frozen four, but after that? absolute nonsense. the main characters are college prospects the summer before they go pro and the book had NO grasp of how that process looks or works. like for example one of them is a goalie and his big existential crisis is "i don't know if going pro will be worth it if i'm not immediately the starting goalie for the nhl team i sign with." WELL BUDDY YOU'RE NOT GONNA BE. BECAUSE OF HOW DEVELOPMENT WORKS. WHICH YOU AS A HOCKEY PLAYER AT THIS LEVEL WOULD DEFINITELY KNOW ABOUT. HOPE THIS HELPS. just, no idea how the player-agent relationship works, no idea how the agent-team relationship works, no idea how the prospect-team relationship works.

the sex scenes read like the author(s) learned everything they knew about gay sex from reading mediocre fanfiction published in 2012

(!!!!!!!!!!SPOILERS!!!!!!!!!!) the part at the end when whats his face comes out to his nhl team's pr guy and the pr guy is like "no problem buddy we actually already knew because we cyber-stalk all of our prospects! we actually drafted you because we'd been getting some heat for letting all our players of color go and thought a gay player would show we value diversity! so when you wanna come out publicly we already have the press release done!" and whats his face is like huh kinda weird but cool ok! ABSOLUTELY B O N K E R S. not that i wouldn't put it past an nhl team to be like that but oh my god don't act like it's cool and normal instead of total nightmare fuel??

okay. sorry. i'm done now. i buddy-read this book with a friend and she couldn't even finish it because she also hated it. i know a lot of people liked this book according to goodreads, and obviously people are allowed to like things that are not to my taste but lordy. what a bad time for me personally!!!

#ask #hockey for ts #i try not to be this much of a hater on main usually but we can blame the painkillers #also i don't think the title is actually supposed to be stylized in all caps as HIM but it's such a silly title i can't help myself

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naminethewriter · 6 months

Text

What Dream Are For

Chapter Five: Escalation

Masterpost | First | Previous | Next | Ao3

Story Summary: Dreams are weird. Especially when you’re metaphysical. There is a distinction between your own dreams and that of your whole. Even though Roman doesn’t know at first that he’s trapped in a dream, he does know that something is wrong upon waking in an unfamiliar room. He thinks he’s in the Imagination but can’t say for sure. Just what has he gotten caught up in?

Cast as the evil Prince and forced to act out the twisted storyline of Thomas’ dream, Roman, with help from Patton and Virgil, needs to figure out what is happening while constricted by what his hateful character would do and say which is not at all pleasant.

We dream for a reason. And as much as Roman likes to be the center of attention, this dream isn’t about him. Someone else is crying out for help.

Content Warnings: Intimidation, Berating, Insults, Yelling, Partial Mind Control

~~*~~

“It was awful,” Roman concludes. He watches Patton and Virgil’s faces as they digest his retelling of his run in with Remus. Well, Patton already had a vague idea of what happened but not all of it. He looks sick now, his hands shaking at his sides. Virgil meanwhile is chewing his bottom lip like its gum.

“At least we know it really is Remus?” Patton tries but neither Roman nor Virgil react.

“He said this whole situation isn’t your creation but someone else’s?” Virgil clarifies after taking a moment to think things through.

“Yeah. I don’t really know who it could be though, the Imagination is supposed to be our realm… I mean, you do have a semblance of power here but in no way enough to create something of this scale and control.”

“Could—” Patton stops, looking unsure of himself.

“Could what, Pat? Any idea could be helpful, so please share,” Roman encourages.

“Well… I thought maybe… If it’s not you or Remus then maybe it’s just Thomas’? I mean, he is all of us, he is both you and Remus combined, so shouldn’t he have the power to create something you don’t?”

“That’s… Not how this works, exactly.” Roman pauses, unsure of how to explain it. “Yes, Thomas’ creativity is more than just me but… in order for Thomas to use any of his creativity, either me or Remus has to be involved. And even if he used just Remus’ influence, I would still feel the difference to Remus’ other creations. This is different. I just can’t tell you exactly how it’s different.”

Patton looks as lost as before his explanation, but he nods anyway. They fall back into silence. Roman’s eyes wander over to Virgil, who is now chewing on his fingernails, looking deep in thought.

“Verge?” he asks carefully, startling the other. “Sorry.”

“No, it’s fine,” Virgil waves him off, though his shoulders stay hunched. “Just thinking about something.”

“About what? Maybe talking about it would help?” Patton offers but Virgil shakes his head.

“Nah, I… I need a bit more time to think.”

Patton doesn’t look convinced, but before he can say any more, Roman speaks up, “Alright, we’ll be here when you do want to talk about it.” Virgil smiles at him gratefully. “We should focus on trying to figure out what to do now anyway.”

“What can we do?” Virgil asks. “Any information gathering we’ve done so far hasn’t gotten us anywhere. We don’t know why we’re here, where here even is and how we get back.”

“I’m sure if we put our heads together, we can think of something!”

“You’ve been saying that, Pat, but, again, that hasn’t gotten us anywhere.”

“Being pessimistic about it isn’t going to help either, my dark knight. Literally!” Patton cracks a smile at Roman’s joke while Virgil rolls his eyes (Roman can see the fondness behind the gesture though.) “We do have a few more hints.”

“We do?”

“Yes! We know that ‘I’ took something from Remus that he cherishes. So maybe if we figure out what that something is, it will give us a lead!”

“But how are we supposed to figure that out?” Virgil asks. “It could be literally anything. A weapon. An animal. Fuck, it’s Remus, it might be a moldy piece of fabric!”

“Why a moldy piece of fabric in particular?”

“He had a collection of those when we were young. Janus made him throw them out.”

Patton makes a face and doesn’t ask any more follow up questions.

“Janus!” Roman calls out suddenly, making the other two flinch. “We should try and find him; he knows my brother best after all.”

“We have no idea where he could be though, right? He might just be with Remus in his wing or wherever you told him to go back to,” Virgil argues.

Roman shrugs. “Maybe, but he’s our best lead, don’t you agree?”

“Shouldn’t we look for Logan first then?” Patton interjects. “I’m worried that we haven’t found him yet.”

“Then it’s decided! We’ll try to find those two first!”

“How is this any different from our aimless wandering about that we’ve done so far?” Virgil sighs, though he does get up and ready to return to his duties. Their lunchbreak has been drawn out enough anyway.

“If we have an aim, it can’t be aimless now, can it?” Roman counters. “At least try and ask some people about them. If we can’t do that, that’s already a hint, isn’t it?”

“How so?”

“Well, my dear padre, if we can’t simply ask about them, then that means they have a place in this world since otherwise their names would be meaningless and hindering us from talking about them would be just the same!”

“Oh, I see! You’re so smart, Roman!”

“Thank you, I know.”

“Fine,” Virgil sighs, interrupting Roman’s boasting. “I’ll try asking my men about it. We’ll meet up in the evening again then?”

“Yes!”

“Good luck, kid-Virgil.”

“You too, Pat.” With that, Virgil leaves the room.

“Did you hear that? ‘My men’ he said. He’s gotten used to this quickly, didn’t he?” Roman wonders.

“I think it’s kinda cute.”

~~*~~

A few hours later, Roman strolls through the castle by himself. For once there is a break in his schedule since a noble had to cancel their meeting for some reason. Roman isn’t complaining, he can really use the time to simply walk around and think. And he could do so without his entourage following him everywhere.

It feels freeing and that is very refreshing after being stuck in this place where he can lose control of himself any second. He walks wherever he wants to go, ignores passing servants (he doesn’t want to but greeting them is apparently out of character) and just let’s his mind wander.

He is about to make his way back for whatever’s next in his schedule when he comes across another person in an otherwise empty hallway. And not just any person.

It’s Logan.

Roman is overjoyed, finally he’s found him! He hadn’t wanted to worry Patton more, but he’s actually been getting antsy about not finding their friend.

Well, no more! He’s right there, and to his luck, they’re entirely alone!

He just needs to call out to him! What luck!

“How dare you show yourself in front of me!” he bellows.

Fucking shit, Roman curses in his head.

Was there a person he missed? But he can’t see anyone else!

Not that he has time to look around as his legs take him to Logan in long, angry steps.

To his credit, Logan doesn’t back away. He stays still, his posture perfect as always but Roman can see how tense he is.

Is he scared of him?

“Your Royal Highness, Crown Prince Roman, I—”

He didn’t get any farther as Roman reaches him and shoves him against the wall. His hand lands at Logan’s throat and internally, he freezes.

This is different than Remus.

Remus and he always had their differences. Their entire being demands that they oppose each other, fight at every turn and that’s why they know their limits so well, know when to stop, when they go too far.

And yes, he and Logan have butted heads before as well, yelled at each other and argued, but they’ve never gotten physical! (If you don’t count Logan throwing that paper in his eye, but that was a one-time instance.)

Now, he was holding him literally at his throat against the wall, not cutting off his air just yet but very much threatening to do so.

“I don’t want to hear your excuses, you traitor!” he hisses. “I thought I made myself clear last time that I never ever wanted to see your face again, but you didn’t get the memo, did you?!”

The anger that threatens to drown Roman is so intense and very different than the one he felt for Remus. It feels like it’s zipping through his entire body, like it’s burning through every nerve and making him very hot. His face must be as red as the cushions in his room by that point.

Logan doesn’t react even though he is pretty much screaming into his face. He doesn’t try to push Roman off him, doesn’t try to defend himself, just stands there and takes it.

And it just makes Roman angrier.

“Did that worthless piece of shit send you here? I thought he would have learned from this morning, but I guess you both are dense as bricks. Or you’re simply stupid enough to think that I would be forgiving towards you just because you used to be my advisor.” Roman is baring his teeth, growling into Logan’s ear and it still doesn’t get a reaction out of the other.

Internally, Roman is trying so hard to get his arm under control, to get it away from Logan but it’s not budging. His mouth keeps moving, throwing insult after insult into the other’s face.

He wants to cry.

He thought this morning was awful already.

This is worse.

So much worse.

Because at least Remus had defended himself. He least he had quipped back, shown that whatever Roman said to him didn’t get to him.

But Logan?

Logan’s eyes look resigned. He doesn’t argue, doesn’t interrupt, he just let’s Roman keep talking and he hates it so much.

It’s almost as if he believes what Roman’s saying.

As if he agrees with everything.

It makes Roman want to vomit.

“SAY SOMETHING YOU INGRATE!” the prince explodes after minutes of uninterrupted raving.

“I am sorry, Your Royal Highness, it was not my intention to cross your path.”

The pot boils over, his rage reaches the highest point, and his hand tightens on Logan’s throat.

Not knowing what else to do, Roman pushes.

He tries to create a connection between him and Logan.

The real him and the real Logan.

It’s hard. The anger is trying to consume him but he pushes past it.

He can feel something.

The world around him goes quiet.

He’s reaching, he can tell he’s close.

He stretches, picturing in his mind his own hand grabbing on to Logan and it’s so close, he’s almost there—

He hits a barrier.

It’s like an electric shot courses through his entire body and he’s thrown back.

He disoriented for a moment and when he comes back to himself, he sees Logan on the ground, gasping for air.

Oh, how he wishes he could punch himself right now.

“You are such a pathetic, filthy, traitorous bastard. I should never have taken pity on you and let you work with me. I had people tell me back then that you wouldn’t amount to anything and I should have fucking listened to them.”

Approaching footsteps thankfully stop another angry rant from bursting out of him. He turns to see two guards round the corner. They stare at them with wide eyes, frozen by the sight of their prince.

“Your Royal Highness,” one begins, his voice shaky, “what is—”

Roman lifts his hand and the knight stops talking immediately.

“Apparently we have a pest problem,” he growls, staring Logan in the eyes. “First the incident this morning, and now this. I though I was clear when I said that they were both not to leave the Second Prince’s wing.”

“Yes, Your Royal Highness, but we—”

“I don’t want to hear your bumbling excuses!” Roman barks and the knights shrink in on themselves. “Just get my brother’s dog back where he belongs and make sure they stay there this time!”

“Right away, Your Royal Highness!”

They approach them quickly but in the time that Roman hadn’t paid attention, Logan had gotten back on his feet.

“Your Royal Highness, would you please listen to me for just a moment, I can—”

“SHUT UP!” Roman yells. “One more word out of you and I will make sure you never speak again! You should count yourself lucky I’m confining you in your own room and not in the dungeons!”

Logan bites his lips and looks away. The knights, that had stopped their approach when Roman raised his voice, grab him by the arms and lead him away. Roman looks after them until they leave his sight.

As soon as they do, his legs buckle and he has to lean against the wall to stop from collapsing.

That was the worst moment of his life.

He feels sick to his stomach. He wants to go to his room, burrow in his blanket and never come back out.

He doesn’t want to think about how Logan must be feeling.

Slowly, he turns around and walks in the opposite direction, staying close to the wall in case he does end up collapsing.

He needs to find Patton and Virgil.

Quickly.

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i-am-bitterly-jittery · 2 years

Text

A small set up to the next installment of My Best Friend’s Brother (Janus’s 100% Foolproof Five-Step Plan To Win Patton’s Heart)

Intended to be read as either a text conversation or notes written on a piece of paper idc

Minor warnings for caps lock and Remus being Remus

Winning Patton’s Heart

JAN’S FOOLPROOF PLAN TO WIN THE HEART OF ONE (1) ADORABLE PUFFBALL (PATTON)

that’s so much longer than jan’s title

WE SHOULD HAVE CODE NAMES!!! PATTON WILL BE MORALITY, V IS ANXIETY, JAN IS DECEIT, AND I’M DUKEY!

OH AND RO IS PRINCEY AND THE NERD IS LOGIC

we don’t need code names

OF COURSE WE NEED CODE NAMES! YOU NEED CODE NAMES WHEN CARRYING OUT COVERT OPS

1). Insert ourselves into his life

and how do you suggest we do that?

Easy. Princey and Logic are gone, we’ll simply take their place

IDENTITY THEFT!!!

2). One-on-one time

We need to establish that not only do we like him as a group, but each of us like him individually and he needs to like US individually

so i have to hang out with him and actually talk to him!?!? you know he sat on my lap for hours and i barely said two words to him that entire time!!!!

YOU SAID STUFF WHILE HE WAS THERE

not TO him though!!

You have to talk to him if you want to date him Virgil

8===D

why are you like this

3). Prove we listen to him

meaning?

Do stuff he expresses that he enjoys, give him things he says he likes. We’re just trying to prove that we know stuff about him

WE COULD STALK HIM!

NO!

4). Increase physical touching and romantic subtext

ARE WE FUCKING HIM IN THIS ONE?

what's ‘romantic subtext’?

Doing couple-y things like giving him flowers or going through a tunnel of love together

are those even real?

DO SEWERS COUNT?

You know what I mean, and no, no sewers

5). Grand gesture

This is where we get together

and what is this grand gesture

The grand gesture needs to be tailored to Patton and therefore cannot be planned until we learn more about him

EW YOU SOUND LIKE ROMAN

Well Roman appreciates romance and we’re trying to establish a romantic relationship with Patton

YOU’RE NOT USING THE CODE NAMES :(

you didn’t either

SHIT

~~~END~~~

Step 1 should be posted soon (it’s short, but it’s finished)

Taglist under the cut

@royalty-of-all-things-snuggly @pixelated-pineapple @knight-shives @misunderstood-shadowling @the-sunshine-dims @taylorxoxo22 @oatmealoatmealoatmealoatmealoatm @captain-gh0st @007ardra @fandomfan315 @sophiexteresa @smolemopotato @contemplativespectrum @xachery-apollo @sp4c3d-0ut @your-gay-enby-highness @sanderssides-angst @idont-freaking-know @mavenmush @imlovethomassanders @sourshadowling @frogsandcookies @aricana8 @cute-and-angsty-prince @why-is-everyone-pretty @angelgrace003 @a-chilly-pepper

(Lol it’s been so long since I last updated this series, if anyone doesn’t want to be tagged anymore lmk.

Also this has been in my drafts for a while so if you’re tagged and you’re thinking “that’s not my username anymore, how did she tag me?” that’s how)

#sanders sides #ts sanders sides #virgil sanders #remus sanders #janus sanders #ts dark sides #patton x dark sides au #patton x virgil x remus x janus #Intrumoxieceit #dukexieceit #anxceitmus #thursday writes #my writing #sometimes you stare at something for a really long time thinking ‘this can’t possibly be done’ and all you can do is hit POST #tw: caps lock

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capisback · 2 years

Text

I read the spoilers for 1057 (couldnt help myself rip) and I might make a post tomorrow with thoughts buuuut I'm going to try to keep it until friday when the chapter comes out

#got thoughts tho #wano's my least favorite arc and my post ts peeves are boiling over #might just get all my frustrations over with and out there in one fell swoop #pre ts has really been cemented as the best part of one piece for me #post ts got some good moments and really good moments #but like..... oda can write better than what he's been showing lately imo #you can ask me about it in dm of you want and I'll explain why #im v frustrated #op spoilers #cap talks #op #one piece #ch 1057

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caberzatto · 21 days

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thoughts of dry-riding rafe on his yacht on a hot summer day on my mind :/

18+ content mndi

the sun was beating down on your back, making you all hot and muggy and uncomfortable as you sat on your boyfriend, straddling his hips. the scent of husky cologne and suncream filled your nostrils, a direct result of your face being buried right in the crook of rafe's neck.

his hands lazily fiddled with the tie-straps of your bikini bottoms that sat high on either sides of your waist, grazing his fingers languidly over your spf-coated skin as you sluggishly moved against him.

you returned the gesture, your fingernails drawing shapes on his bare back, grinding down on his cock through his swimming trunks in the process. his focus right now is solely on you. on making you feel good. letting you take exactly what you need as you sit atop him, beneath the blazing sun.

"'ts it, princess...jus' take what you need, baby."

hushed moans left your lips at your boyfriend's words, continuing to relieve the clammy discomfort you've been feeling while sitting on the leather cushions of his yacht, pressed against his body.

in one of his hands, he held the string of your bikini bottoms, which was tied into a neat bow, between his thumb and index finger, before gently tugging on the stretchy fabric and letting one side of the garment come undone, fall loosely off your midsection.

you lifted your hips slightly off rafe's, letting one of your hands to snake from his back, down to your pussy, pushing the loose material of the swimsuit to the side. the new lack of coverage on your lower half allowed for much more friction as you settled back down on his lap.

rafe's hard cock bulged through his trunks as you moved back and forth against him, your face still concealed in his neck but now dipping down to pepper kisses along his collarbone. his shorts rubbed against your clit, the friction of the fabric mixed with the feeling of his dick thrusting up into you and brushing against your folds was enough to have you make a mess of his lap, covering it with your arousal in a matter of minutes.

"feels 's'good, rafe...'s'good, gonna cum." you babbled into his neck, continuing to squirm over him, keeping an unhurried pace.

"yeah, princess? gonna cum all over my trunks, huh? 'ts it, pretty girl...make a mess all over my lap, yeah?"

"mhm...gonna-hmm, fuck-"

your back arched at the way rafe's cock bucked up against you a certain way, sending a fluttering feeling straight to your core as you pushed your breasts firmly against his chest. his gaze flickered up from your pussy on his lap, to the full skin of your tits. the suncream you had applied earlier gave them a glowy shine, highlighting their plump, round shape and the way they swayed as you continuously shifted your body.

a low groan caught in his throat as he took in the sight of you grinding on his clothed dick, tits mashed against his toned chest, eyes low and hooded with fatigue from sitting in the sun for far too long. strands of his hair had fallen out from the cap he had on, falling casually over his forehead.

rafe spread his legs further apart, providing you with more access to his large cock and allowing you to sink further down onto it. taking full advantage of the new position, you quickened your pace ever so slightly, drawing out your long-awaited release.

"mmm, gonna cum, rafe," your voice so whiny and distressed and needy. a sound that rafe could listen to on repeat every second of every day.

"c'mon, baby, make a mess on me, pretty girl c'mon, that's it..."

"mmm oh f-ffuckkk-" your steady thrusts over his hips turned into shudders as you slowed to a stop, wrapping your arms tightly around your boyfriend's neck.

you lifted your head off his shoulder to finally meet his gaze, only to find him staring down at the mess you made all over his lap with his mouth slightly ajar. white, sticky liquid coated his swimming trunks, causing wet, sloppy sounds whenever either of you shifted

a soft hum left your lips and you moved your hands from rafe's neck to his chest, lightly tracing circles over his skin. finally, he lifted his to meet your eyes, a small smile playing on his lips, "did s'fucking good f'me, princess."

you returned the smile, pressing a quick peck to his lips before placing your head back on his shoulder and shutting your eyes. no longer caring about the sun beating down on your back.

okayyy, so this is my first time writing a blurb, still getting used to it tbh. I'm a person who naturally writes A LOT, lmao, so I still have to get used to wiring only like 200 words or so for blurbs.

very out of my comfort zone to say the least, but I love me a cute little blurb so I wanna start writing more of them. anywaysss hope you guys enjoy this one, please let me know if there's anything else you'd like to see from me, my messages are OPEN <333.

#rafe cameron #Rafe Cameron smut #Rafe Cameron x you #Rafe Cameron x reader #rafe cameron obx #rafe cameron outer banks #rafe cameron blurb #cab writes #cab thoughts

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roseianxiety · 5 months

Text

All wrapped up by the fireplace

Ship: Romantic Roceit

Content Warnings: Mentions of alcohol usage, drunkenness, foul language, slight innuendo

Synopsis: Roman has some alone time with himself after their little Christmas Eve celebration, but a certain drunken snake approaches him and ruins his peace. At least that's what he thinks.

AO3

“Roman, is it really necessary for you to turn the living room into THIS?”

Logan queries loudly as he gestures to the living room, now completely covered in Christmas decor and where their TV stood was now replaced with a grand brick fireplace. Roman really put a lot of effort into all this grandiosity.

“Yes, Logan, it is necessary.” Roman drawled out as he gave Logan a look while hanging the last ornament on the Christmas tree. He then added, hopping off his little stool. “You'd really expect ME to NOT go all out on Christmas?” he remarked at Logan.

Logan merely sighs and rolls his eyes, making his way towards his recliner chair. “I shouldn't have expected less from you and Patton when it comes to celebrating festivities,” he stated, gently sitting down and opening up one of the newspapers Virgil gave him.

Roman hums proudly before strutting to the kitchen to check on whatever Patton was working on.

“Hey, Popstar, how's the baked goods doing there?” Roman questions cheerily from across the counter, propping his palm under his chin while he watches Patton do his thing.

Patton turns around, slightly surprised at Roman's sudden appearance but then giggles. “Oh hey ya, kiddo, didn't see you there.”. He continued, pulling out a tray of gingerbread man cookies out of the oven. “I'm almost done with the last batch. Careful, they're very hot.”.

He says before placing the tray down on the countertop to let it cool. Roman immediately reaches for one but hisses in pain and pulls his hand back when he burns himself with the piping-hot cookies. “Ow…”.

Patton tuts and shakes his head at Roman's impulsiveness, “I did tell you they're hot. You saw me take them out of the oven just now.”. He reaches to take Roman's hand but the other declines and pulls away.

“Nah, it's okay. This burn is far from reaching my intestines anyway, so I'm cool. I was merely excited to taste your fantastic cookies, Padre.” Roman shrugs and moves to try and take one but Patton gently slaps his hand away. The creative prince pouts at that.

“No no, they're still piping hot. And, we still have to wait for the last batch before we can finally eat all of these.” Patton states with a raised chin, trying to seem authoritative but he looks silly and cute. Don't tell him that.

“Bummer,” Roman mutters with a pout before sighing. He straightens (ha!) his posture and stretches his arms over his head, turning on his heels. “Anyways, you better continue that while I go check whatever chaos Remus is doing. Don't want him ruining my party.”.

He says as he makes his way back to the living room. As he does so, he could see Virgil hissing aggressively at Remus while his twin brother was teasing the crap out of the anxious facet.

“Come on, take him! He's Mr. Fuzzy’s boyfriend!” Remus exclaimed, trying to give another handcrafted hairball abomination to Virgil who was desperately trying to get away from him. And Janus was there, laughing his drunk ass off by the sidelines.

Virgil notices Roman walking towards them and immediately calls for him while trying to stop Remus from getting close to him. “Roman! Come get your unhinged brother!” He exclaimed, before hissing at Remus.

“Hi, Roman~” Janus giggles drunkenly as he gives Roman a small. Geez… he really was drunk. Roman chooses to ignore him.

“Sorry Virgil but you're gonna have to deal with him yourself.” Roman hums, raising his hands in defense. Virgil groans at his response, now more annoyed. Remus then pushes the hairball abomination right at Virgil's face, causing the other to yelp.

Roman leaves them be and walks towards the couch, plopping just beside Logan who was engrossed with his puzzle thing or whatever it was. He tried to take a peek at it only for his face to scrunch up in confusion, not understanding one bit of it. Roman didn't what was so interesting about it but eh, at least Logan was having the time of his life.

He leans back on the couch while he watches as the fire crackles in the fireplace, emitting a cozy warmth that he always loved. Roman might now admit it out loud but he loved enjoying his Christmas with everyone. It’s good not to be alone.

“To be honest, I didn't think Remus would be this… tame when he is drunk. How surprising.” Logan comments as looks down at Remus on the floor before sipping on his wine. The chaotic individual was currently splayed out on the living room floor, already deadbeat asleep.

Patton carefully takes the empty mug from Remus’ grasp, trying not to wake him up. “So alcohol is just the way to calm him down?” He says, letting out a soft yelp when Remus grumbles and pulls the mug away from him, hugging it close. Patton frowns and leans back on the couch but not before grabbing two cookies from the snack platter.

“You know, it's already late and I already feel the spirit of Christmas welling up inside me. And by that, I mean vomit. Merry Christmas y'all, I'm gonna go bury myself in the comforts of my blankets.” Virgil suddenly says as he gets up from his usual place on the couch before sinking out, not letting anyone say a word.

Logan proceeds to check the time on his wristwatch. “Virgil is right, it is past twelve and my bedtime schedule. Merry Christmas everyone. Be sure to sleep well.” He says in a monotone, glancing at the rest of them. He then leaves as well, following right after Virgil.

“Aww geez, everyone's going to sleep now. I'm starting to feel eepy too. So sorry your party didn't go the way you wanted it to, Roman.” Patton apologizes with a small frown as he looks at the princely trait but Roman waves it off.

“It's quite alright, Patton, I am not easily upset at something so trivial.” He says casually, getting up from his spot on the couch and beginning to stretch his arms, hearing satisfying pops from his joints. “You go ahead and rest your adorable self, I'll deal with all the mess here.” Roman then added.

“Are you sure? I can help you—”

Roman immediately cuts Patton off before he can even continue his sentence, “Shush, Patton. I can handle this. You've been dozing off a lot, it's best for you to rest.”.

“Plus, I've still got a pump of adrenaline in me so I'm not that tired yet. I'm gonna spend all that leftover energy cleaning all of this.” He chuckles, trying to reassure the fatherly figure.

“Oh…if you say so. But don't forget to rest too. Merry Christmas, kiddo! I love you!” Patton exclaims before throwing himself on Roman, giving the other a tight, warm hug. Roman smiles fondly, hugging the other back. Eventually, Patton sinks out and returns to his room.

When Patton left, Roman immediately started his work. He cleaned all of the junk left in the living room, from the torn gift wrappers to the various cookie crumbs lying around. Roman resorted to carrying Remus onto the couch, Remus might not be the physically built one between them but God, was he heavy.

He continued to clean the living room and even cleaned the kitchen as well, making sure there wasn't any mess left in the morning. After half an hour or so, he was finally done.

He makes a little nest out of pillows and blankets by the fireplace before situating himself in his creation. Even after all that cleaning, he still wasn't tired. And he couldn't think of anything to do. So why not look at fire instead?

Janus stumbles down from the stairs, drunk as fuck. He was planning to get some water but his eyes landed on something by the fireplace. Or more likely, someone.

“My my, what's our beloved prince doing here all by himself?”

Roman suddenly snaps his head back as soon as he hears that all too familiar sultry voice. His eyes narrow at the very presence of his archenemy. Janus was making his way towards him, while almost tripping on his own feet. He clearly was still not sober.

“What do you want, Janus? I'm not exactly in the mood to deal with you right now.” Roman groaned before turning back to the fireplace, crossing his arms over his chest.

“What? Am I not allowed to be in the living room? I just wanna get warm.” Janus huffs before plopping down beside the prince, causing the other's face to scrunch up more in frustration and annoyance. Roman scoots away from him and avoids meeting his gaze. He crosses his arms further, a big pout already forming on his lips.

There was a big silence between them, and Roman liked it that way. Heck, he even forgot Janus was there beside him in the first place. Out of annoyance and trying to avoid the other, he got distracted by watching the fire slowly move and crackle in an intricately artistic dance. Not until Janus said the most out-of-pocket thing ever which ruined the vibe.

“You know, you could've done other things to warm me up than buy me socks.”

Those. Those were the very words that ruined his perfectly good vibes. Because what the actual fuck!?

“W-what? No!” Roman remarked quickly in sheer embarrassment, his whole face as red as his sash. Now why did Janus have to say that?!

Janus only tilted his head at him, staring at him innocently for a few minutes before letting out a sadistic cackle, making Roman turn red. “I'm just messing with you, Roman.”.

He then stops momentarily, batting his eyelashes at Roman as he bites his lips suggestively. “Unless you want to…”.

Roman's whole face immediately burned up like the fire in the fireplace. For some random reason, the way Janus was saying that in a low and sultry voice while biting his lip was absolutely sending him. Jesus Christ on a stick, it was not the right time to be a gay mess.

“How many bottles of wine have you drunk today?” Roman queries, gently gripping Janus' face as he tries to look for any sign of sobriety.

“Just a bit. Like, three or four bottles. I don't know, I forgot. Silly me.” Janus giggles, looking up at Roman with a drunken gaze, his whole face dusted in pink. Okay, but truth be told, he was quite cute when he was not up to something devious. Not that Roman would admit it.

“Geez, you're so drunk right now. You need to go back to your room and sleep.” Roman clicked his tongue before letting go of Janus, causing the other to slump forward against him.

The deceitful facet whined, clinging close to him. “I'm not drunk! I am very sober as you can see. Iz jus very very cold… hmm, you're warm.” he grumbled lowly, nuzzling close to Roman. The creative prince was having second thoughts if he should push Janus away or let him cuddle with him, he's still not on good terms with Janus after all and the latter was drunk.

“Even while drunk you still have the gall to lie.” Roman scoffs with a roll of his eyes.

“So warm… you are like a walking furnace. Very warm. I like warmth.” Janus babbled, not wanting to let go of Roman. The other could do nothing but grimace, having no choice but to let Janus cling to him like a koala bear.

“Not gonna lie, you're sorta cute when you're drunk. And pretty annoying too.” Roman commented, glancing at Janus for a moment.

“Awww, you think I'm cute AND pretty, Roman? Do you like meeee?”

The creative trait could feel his cheeks heat up at Janus' bold words. He tries to hide his blush by averting his gaze from Janus while his heart begins to ram against his ribcage.

“No way! I-I meant pretty annoying! Nothing else.” Roman exclaims in defense but Janus merely chuckles at him, clearly not convinced with his answer. And of course, Janus doesn't stop taunting him.

“Then why are you blushing?~” Janus teases as he reaches to grab Roman's face, urging the other to look at him.

“I'm not!”

“You so are.”

Roman let out a frustrated groan and covered his face. Janus was going to be the death of him if he didn't stop teasing him. He wanted to rip out his hair and scream. Roman took back what he said, Janus was not cute when he was drunk, more like annoying.

“By the way, how did you know I'm cold-blooded? I never truly told anyone that.” Janus wonders, seemingly having calmed down from his amusement. Roman glances at him, slightly caught off guard by his question.

Roman thinks for a moment, he didn't think of the possibility that Janus might ask that question. When he got Janus for Secret Santa, his first plan was to give him something shitty like a passive-aggressive letter but he scrapped that because he might seem like too much of an asshole. So he went for something useful. He may or may not have done some research for Janus' gift.

“I just assumed because you're a snake and all,” Roman muttered, still refusing to look at Janus at the fear that the other would tease the crap out of him or if his heart would fully jump out of his chest. “They're not that special, just some pair of yellow socks.”.

“I like them though, they're yellow and keep my feet warm.” Janus hums happily before raising one of his feet up to show off his cool new socks, then wiggles his toes a bit just to fuck with Roman. The princely facet gave him a disgusted look but it quickly melted away into a hearty laugh.

“Didn't expect you'd wear them immediately. Thought you might throw it away because it does not match your ‘Disney Villain’-esque aesthetic.” Roman chuckles softly. Janus smiles at him, a sincere and genuine one at that.

Roman wanted to admit it, but Janus was growing on him. He had never seen this side of him before when he was sober. He was less villainy and scheme-y, although Janus still got that sass and all. Yet it was his first time seeing him smile so genuinely. It was a fresh sight to see.

Their eyes suddenly met for a moment, the both of them could feel a quick spark of electricity as soon as their gaze landed on each other. Roman could only watch as Janus slowly leaned closer toward him, almost climbing on his lap.

They stare at each other intently, not knowing what will happen. Roman's gaze moved from Janus' eyes down to his lips, then back up, before gulping softly. There was a pregnant pause between them, but it was broken when Janus leaned forward, closing the gap between them.

Sparks fly as their lips collide in a kiss, likening it to a fireworks display. All the background noises seemed to quiet down behind them, only the loud thumps of their passionate hearts that seemed to jump out of their chests could be heard. Roman only stared at Janus in shock as he sat there, frozen. His brain was still processing what was happening.

But before he could, Janus suddenly pulled away.

“I love you…” He mutters against Roman's lips before moving away to rest his head on the prince’s shoulder.

Then it finally clicked to Roman. He snapped out of his trance and immediately reached to touch his lips with his fingers, trying to feel the bits of the presence of Janus' kiss as his whole face warmed up. Janus kissed him and confessed to him… Janus…kissed…him

JANUS KISSED HIM!

The realization dawned upon him like being hit with a ten-wheeler truck. Did this mean Janus liked him all this time?! No… no, that can't be the case, right? He was drunk. That cannot be true… right? But it did seem genuine.

He was about to question Janus when he realized the other had already fallen asleep while lying on his shoulder. Really? He just kissed Roman and gave him a dilemma then went to sleep!

Roman let out a groan, mentally slapping himself on the face. He did not want his Christmas to start with him overthinking about this. After a long while, he lets out a long sigh, choosing to accept his reality. Maybe Janus did like him. But does he like him back?

He glances at Janus once more, observing his features. Huh, his scales were interesting up close. They shine like emeralds. A small smile creeps up on Roman's lips while he watches Janus sleep peacefully, he really is stunning.

Janus suddenly shudders in his sleep, clinging more to Roman. The personification of creativity notices this and decides to pull the other closer, basically letting his archenemy cuddle him. Roman looks around for the blankets until he finds one, draping it around him and Janus, hoping that would shield them from the chilly breeze.

Roman then queries softly, “Still cold?”.

Janus then unconsciously shakes his head as a response while he nuzzles the other. The creative facet chuckles softly, wrapping his arms around Janus to keep him warm.

He continues to observe the other for a few moments, watching as he softly breathes and snore. It was cute. This could be good blackmail material for Janus, but Roman wasn't exactly in the mood. All he wanted to do right now was admire him. Roman then whispers to him, pressing a gentle kiss on Janus’ forehead.

“I love you too, Janus.”

-----------------------------------

Writing Taglist: @cutebisexualmess @extraintrovertedalien (please tell me if you want to be added or removed in the tag list)

#sanders sides #sanders sides fanfiction #sanders sides fanfic #tss fanfic #roman sanders #roman sanders sides #janus sanders #janus sanders sides #roceit #roceit fanfic #roceit fanfiction #ts roceit #romantic roceit #alcohol cw #tw all caps

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formulaforza · 9 months

Note

💐 hi my wonderful birthday girl !! so i was thinking about a dress coded lewis blurb (because i was born a lewis and ts girl) where they just get drunk together and there’s teases flying and stuff. keep it as brief as u wish <333

—you can take it off

lewis hamilton x merc!reader summ. thank you stephy i love u bad <3 inspo from... ur never gonna believe it... this. hope it's up to your standards my love. 2.7k (kind of got out of hand)

You were half-asleep and half-drunk the night of the Belgium Grand Prix. The air was cool, recycled like all air seems to be in hotels, smelled of too-strong perfume and was filled with the dull noise of elevator jazz. What had begun as a before-we-go-to-bed night cap in the hotel bar with Bono had turned into a seemingly never ending addition of guests.

Valtteri was first to join—never could pass up the opportunity to give you shit, to offer you job postings at Alfa Romeo that weren’t job postings at all—and with him around, there’s no casual drinking. You don’t try to keep up, not really, because you know you don’t stand a chance, but also because he would never let you. After all these years of being just a few months younger than him, he still calls you kiddo, still promises to call your parents when you’re out after dark, and always sends you a text after a race with some… questionable strategy decisions you’re catching flack for online.

A brief appearance from Toto and Susie, just long enough for them to know they had no business trying to go drink for drink with Valtteri, and then they’re wishing all three of you a wonderful summer break and retreating to whatever room is considered prestige enough for Motorsport’s it-couple.

And then there was Lewis, the last to arrive, who never called you kid, who never viewed you as one. He sits adjacent you in the red, high back leather booth and takes up a seat and a half, the toe of his shoe brushing against the side of yours, flashing you apologetic puppy dog eyes every time he bumps against yours.

It’s somewhere between drink number five and six that Lewis gets his first, insists on a toast to the summer break that officially began… six hours and fifty-three minutes ago. For a long season this and a too-short summer break that, you lot had a mouthful of things to complain about, but a million more to be grateful for. “To not having work for a month,” Lewis proposes, clinking his glass against yours, offering a quick wink and holding it up properly over the table.

“To no racing-talk for a few weeks,” Bono adds, clinking his glass against Lewis’.

“To summer-fucking-break,” Valtteri chimes in, laughing at himself before the rest of you get the chance to match it.

“To summer fucking break,” you repeat because you know there’s no better way to sum it all up.

Unlike the other two, you slowed down when Lewis joined, wanted to give him time to catch up, to give yourself time to meet him somewhere in the middle. A glass of water and a virgin rum and coke and another water and the night is still young.

“First summer break as the big boss, kiddo,” Valtteri remarks, and you have to squint to hear him through the alcohol-induced thickening of his accent.

“That’s right!” Bono laughs. Your cheeks run hot at their mention of your title, of your promotion following James’ departure earlier in the season. Lewis smiles against the rim of his glass, bumps his foot against yours and doesn’t give you apologetic eyes. No, he raises his brows so slightly you think you’re the only one that notices, which is probably exactly the way he intended it to be. “Little miss queen of strategy is making the big money now, got any big travel plans?”

Lewis clears his throat, and your eyes dart over to his almost instinctively. “You’re staying in London, yeah?”

He’s right. Your summer-break plans consist of four weeks of trying to remember what it feels like to do nothing, failing at that task pathetically, and spending the rest of the time meticulously picking apart every call you’ve made all season and imagining the million and one things you could’ve done differently and their billion and two outcomes.

You pick apart the drink napkin, tear it into tiny little pieces. “Yeah, yeah. Just staying home, catching up with friends and family,” you clarify, try not to sound as pathetic as you feel. It’s hard not to when you’re sitting next to the guy who spends his offseason snowboarding in Antarctica with his celebrity friends and his weeks off traveling to Paris fashion week for front row seats next to supermodels. Anything you say would sound pathetic to someone who makes thirty-five million a year.

“I love it,” he nods, stares right through you and into your soul so you know he’s being genuine. “That’s awesome.”

You nod, swallow hard, purposely angle your body away from his, to the rest of the group. “What about you guys?”

Lewis laughs, soft, quiet, completely under his breath. The kind of laugh that deserves to be bottled into a jar and kept on a shelf for safe keeping. You know he’s always laughed like that, even before he knew you, but in the last few months it just feels different. Good different, like he’s laughing just for you now instead of everyone else too.

You know you’re crazy, that he’s just Lewis being Lewis and you’re just single for the first time in a long time and also drunk. Not half drunk anymore, just drunk—even if you do think you’re meeting him in the middle, you’re not. He’s just chasing after.

“Back home, too,” Bono concludes. “Take a breather, might head up to the country with the family.”

“You’ll take pictures, yeah?” Lewis asks, starts to pick up the pieces of your napkin tear pile and move them in front of him like a kid who isn’t patient enough to share or destructive enough to rip up his own. You watch in your peripheral, the way he fiddles with the wet paper, gets it stuck to his fingertips. You can’t laugh, so you don’t, but you want to. You think he knows you want to.

Bono scoffs, nods while swallowing a sip of his drink—something dark, something pungent. Not what you would have pegged him for ordering, even after knowing him as long as you have. “So I can compare with the likes of you lot and,” he turns to Lewis, leers around you to emphasize the eyeline, “your million dollar vacations or,” and then the other way, back to Valtteri, “your olympic cycling events?”

Valtteri smiles, swirls his drink—gin, you think. Expensive. “Yes.”

“No chance.”

“I’ll be sure to send you a picture of me having a meltdown when I think about our side pods from the beginning of the year,” you chime in, because it’s not like they all don’t know you well enough to know exactly what you mean by spending time with friends and family at home.

“What sidepods?” Lewis chuckles.

“Fucking exactly,” you add, mirror his mannerisms without even realizing it, all the way down to readjusting in your seat when you’ve had your laugh.

“Could be worse,” Bono offers. “Could be last year.”

Lewis nods, holds his drink up in the direction of Valtteri across the table. “We never should have let you leave.”

He smiles, weak, lips pursed. “I could have told you that.”

The night continues on, all drinks and laughs and yawns, occasional remarks that it’s about time I head up, followed by another round, another joke, another comment about this, that, or the other thing.

You’ve always liked Lewis when he’s a little tipsy. He lightens up a bit, you can actually watch the stress drip from him like sweat, all the titles and the wins and the losses, they all just fall away when he’s relaxed like this. You’ve always liked him like this. Always. Before he was king of the world and before he was the prodigal son and every moment in between.

After every joke he makes—or, after every comment he makes that he thinks could be considered a joke—you find yourself laughing, because it’s Lewis and you have a crush on him and of course you do. And, without fail, everytime you laugh, he winks, like you’re in on some inside joke even though he’s making it to the whole table, like there’s some double meaning to all of his words that are meant just for you, just for the two of you to understand.

Somewhere in it all, it comes back to Lewis, because, well, it always does. “Is your back still bothering you?” Bono asks, and you think you already know the answer. You think you know, because you can’t remember the last time you;d seen him take careful consideration of his posture when he sits. Not even now is he sitting up straight, with his legs perfectly spread a shoulder’s width apart and his feet flat on the floor. Instead, he’s taking up more room than he needs to, all relaxed and comfortable on the leather booth bench.

He swipes his thumb over the condensation of his glass, looking up from the action at you, and then to Bono. “No, no. All good there.”

“All good?” Bono prods, because he was on the receiving end of a year and a half of complaints from Lewis.

Lewis nods, clicks his tongue on the roof of his mouth. “No Paracetamol in a month.”

Across the table, Valterri chimes in. “None?”

“None for my back,” Lewis says, and the whole table laughs. You just watch him, though, because who laughs better than he does? You could wax poetic about it without a second thought, the way that his lips upturn and his cheeks round and his eyes crinkle and go soft in a way that makes you feel like you’re the funniest person in the world even when you’re not making a joke. The way that his smile is brighter than anyone’s you’ve ever seen, and the way that if you look at it for too long, you think about how it would feel to run your finger along the gap in his teeth.

“That’s what I thought,” Valtteri mutters off the end of his laugh. “You're getting old.”

“Not too old to make half a million.”

The entire table’s heads fly to him. You gasp, an embarrassingly wide smile on your face. “You didn’t!” You almost yell, smacking his upper arm with a weak hand.

He mocks your gasp, makes it somehow more dramatic and over the top and laughs sweetly, shrugging your hand off his arm and letting his hand fall to your leg, bumping your foot with his again. “I didn’t.” The table chuckles, you pout, and then you realize that his hand is on your thigh, that it’s staying there quite comfortably, and that you mind it less than he does.

“Don’t be a tease,” you sigh, take a swig of your drink. Your knees are suddenly weak, like you know you wouldn’t be able to stand up if you wanted to. It’s like he can sense your change but can’t quite read it, because then he’s moving his hand back to his own lap, interlocking it with the other and resting it there.

He nods, suddenly shy, suddenly guilty. “It’s as good as done.”

Valtteri laughs. “Yeah, I’ve heard that one before.” You hear what he says, but you’re not listening, not really. Lewis stares into you like he wants to look anywhere else—apologetic eyes and a fear he’s taken a misstep. He hasn’t, you want to tell him. You haven’t, put your hand back, please. Silently, you try to convey what shouldn’t dare be spoken. “I’ll believe it when pen is on paper.”

He snaps his eyes away from you, back to Valtteri. You don’t follow suit, stay fixed on him, on trying— hard—to get your message across. “I’m telling you, they’re announcing it after the summer break.”

“Whatever you say, Mate.”

Bono nods around a mouthful of alcohol, sets his half-empty glass down with an incidental thud. “Who’s to say we still want your geriatric ass?”

Lewis raised his interlocked hands from his lap, to the tabletop, resting his elbows on the wood grain and rattling the empty glasses when he does it. He leans in towards the center of the table, even though the only person separating him and Bono is you. “Would you tell Schumacher ‘no?’”

“What was that?” You ask, your words a convenient excuse to lean in closer, to settle into a spot that much closer to him without raising any brows. To brace for the shift, you leave your hand on his thigh with less subtly than your original movement, but it’s okay. It’s okay—only Lewis knows where your hands are, and you don’t want it to be subtle, don’t want anything to be lost in translation. “I can’t hear you over your ego,” you smile, and your fingers dance up his leg just a few, careful inches.

He drops back into his seat, drops his hands back into his lap. Under the table, he grabs yours and laughs, but it’s stifled, stunted, not quite relaxed. “Very funny,” he humors, and moves your hand back. His stays too, though, and he crosses one leg over the other under the table. His thumb moves over the fabric of your slacks in shudder-worthy circles.

“Someone’s gotta check you,” you smile, nod in the direction of your tablemates without ever looking away from him. “These two won’t.”

Bono scoffs.“Are you kidding?”

Your smile grows. “How do you want me to answer that, Peter?”

“Damn,” Lewis laughs so hard he coughs. “She Peter-ed you. That’s cold.”

“You’re the one comparing yourself to Michael fucking Schumacher,” Bono scolds.

“I didn’t say that, but,”

“But!” You interject.

“But,” Lewis laughs, threatens to continue even though all at the table know he won’t, knows that no matter how often the media and the girlfriends and the friends and the family tell him he should put himself up there with the greatest, he’ll never quite see himself in the same light. “But it’s about time I head up, I think.”

“Ah, see,” Valtteri chuckles. “Old man Hamilton can’t hang.”

“No, he can not,” Lewis remarks, pulling his phone and his hotel keycard from his pocket, setting the latter on the table and if you were feeling a little crazier than you are, you’d swear he nudges it ever so slightly out of his bubble and into yours. He types away rapidly at his phone, and you try to pay attention to the jokes Bono and Valtteri throw around, the pokes at Lewis they make, but suddenly you’re feeling like it’s a good time to head up, too. You try to shake the crazy, to leave it with your backwash in the final sip of your drink, and you do. You do.

You do, but then he’s slipping his phone back into his pocket. He’s leaving his glass just beyond his keycard and telling you to feel free to finish it. He’s saying his goodbyes while he moves out of the booth and his hotel room key is still sat on the table next to you. It stares at you—the hard, thin plastic. Stares at you in its white paper pocket with the intricate printing of the hotel label and dares you to look at him when he walks away.

You do, begrudgingly, subtly, and his eyes are already on yours. They’re expressionless, and yet, say so fucking much. You hold the remainder of his drink in his direction before downing it in a single gulp and then he winks at you. He looks at his keycard on the table, and then to you, and then he winks, and you’re sure you’re absolutely crazy.

You swallow.

“Oh, fuck,” Bono says, reaches over you to grab the keycard from the table. It’s like you were zoned out and he snapped in front of your face, the way it pulls you from Lewis to the table. “He forgot his key.”

“Oh,” you squeak, and then louder, “I can take it to him.”

“No, no, It’s okay,” Bono says, and he makes you stand up to get out of the booth. “I should be heading up anyway.”

“Really,” you half-insist, trying to convince him you can handle it without letting him in on why you’re convincing him. “It’s no problem.”

Bono pulls out his wallet, flips through the pockets of it and fiddles with his bills. “Our rooms are right by each other,” he insists, tosses his share onto the table. “I got it.”

“Okay,” you nod, accept your defeat. “Yeah, I should be heading up, too, I guess.”

939 notes · View notes

garoujo · 1 year

Text

✩ ˛˚ . NAGI SEISHIRO ; — nagi always seems to go pouty & quiet whenever he gets turned on at you doing the most mundane things

ஜ ˖ ࣪࿐ྂ warnings: f!reader, all characters written 22+, nothing too bad it’s literally just nagi getting hard over you eating a popsicle. ♡ ˖ ࣪࿐ྂ note: i cant even eat a popsicle by the pool in peace without thinking about this man, so consider this a gift from pool emmie :3

it’s too hot, nagi thinks to himself as he rests in the space next to you in the park — giving you a sleepy look from under his cap as he hides from the beating rays of the sun. he can feel the oversized fabric of his shirt sticking slightly to his skin but he’s trying his best not to complain because you look real pretty under that same sky, pretty grin on your face as you drink up the ice cold popsicle that you both bought from the convenience store a few blocks back.

he remembers the cute little smile you wore when you handed him his own, making sure to take it out the packaging for him because you know he always found them a hassle — giggling when he stuffed the iced treat between his lips with a muffled little “thanks. wanna sit down now.” as he let you drag him towards the park.

nagi doesn’t realise he’s zoned out, staring at you until he’s fixated on the way you pucker your lips around the flavoured stick between your fingers— it’s like you’re deliberately trying to be intoxicating. you lean back slightly onto the grass, distracted momentarily by the people in the distance before you gasp quietly when the juice seems to trail cool down your skin.

your lips trail deeper, swiping at the sweet droplets that paint along your skin as they suckle along the space and suddenly he can’t look away— he’s too obsessed with the way your eyes flutter, tongue curling around the length of your fingers next and it’s embarrassing the way he feels his cock twitch at the movement.

nagi’s breathing stutters and he almost chokes on his own popsicle as he urges himself to look away, feeling a flush sting at his cheeks as he casts you a glance — wondering if you noticed the effect just you cleaning yourself up seems to have on him as he sighs to himself. he readjusts his shorts as he tries to subtly press his palm into the slight bulge, swallowing with the slight friction and he swears he can feel every rapid beat of his heart in his ears as he twitches needily.

“seishiro~ are you too hot?” your voice pipes into the clouded thoughts of his mind and he turns to you just as you close your lips around your popsicle again, making his eyes drop to the movement as you bob your head to suckle at it before you pull back with a pop again.

“huh? nah ‘ts just no fair.” nagi says but he pouts with his words before he’s turning away from you again, trying his best to ignore just how cringe this whole interaction is for him right now. “why you gotta eat it like that? ‘ts such a bother.”

“huh? like what?” you reply innocently and you watch him cast you a sidewards glance before he’s swallowing and readjusting himself again. the outline of his cock becomes even more visible with every swipe of your tongue and flutter of your lashes, and suddenly he’s missing the usual oversized fit of his hoodies and sweats despite the way he’d probably pass out if he wore them in this heat.

“eh, like that. ‘ts a pain.” nagi tilts his head towards you as your lips wrap around the tip of your popsicle again and his shoulders drop with his next mumble.

“you’re not making sense, sei.” he really isn’t, this is how everyone eats them, except it’s you and you’re pretty and even watching you just doing the most mundane things seem to have an effect on him as he feels want bubble in his abdomen. you give him a look, taking in his puffed out cheeks and pouty lips under his slightly damp snowy bangs and you giggle as you lean back into the sun.

“hey, ‘s not funny. don’t laugh at me.”

nagi leans in a little, pressing himself into your side until his lips are ghosting yours when you turn your head to meet him and you’re surprised at the sudden public display of affection as his eyes take in your features. his gaze eventually falls still on your lips and he can’t help but imagine how much better the popsicle would taste along your tongue.

“watch, sei! it’s leaking. you’re gonna end up all sticky, you dummy!” you gasp and the moment of intimacy is broken as you jolt forward when you feel the sudden drip of your boyfriends popsicle smear along your thigh.

“eh, ‘ts fine. we can just have a bath.. ‘m all sweaty anyway, too much sun is such a pain.” although he’s pretty sure the heat building in his stomach is making him even warmer, curling to lick at the base of his spine as nagi tries to subtly readjust his shorts—but shit, you don’t make it easy.

it’s swift and instinctive the way you ignore him to grab at his hand, bringing it to your lips before you’re licking up the trail of sweet liquid that runs over his skin. he’s frozen, almost— except for the throb in his cock and the race of his heart when your eyes flutter to look up at him and he wishes he could push you even lower, feeling your lips press suckled kisses along his skin before your tongue is curling around the base of his lolly to clean it up.

nagi’s too hot and so fucking hard, feeling a twitch in his abdomen when your lips pop as you pull away and he clears his throat with the next, almost painful throb in his shorts — this is so cringe.

“see, no fair. you’re teasin’ me and ‘ts bothersome, angel.” he readjusts himself again before he’s giving you a drowsy, lidded look and leaning in once more, finally pressing his lips against yours before he’s pushing his tongue between your lips— languidly as he savours the sweet syrupy taste of you.

nagi melts into you as he kisses you, like he always does as he almost knocks you both over onto the grass and you try to steady yourself as he pulls away to breathe, grumbling before he’s licking at his lips and looking at you like he wants even more.

“tastes so good, i wanna go back to my room now, please. wanna taste more.”

#݁ . ࿓ : sealed#blue lock x reader #blue lock smut #blue lock x you #bllk x reader #bllk smut #bllk x you #nagi x reader #nagi x you #nagi smut #nagi seishiro x you #nagi seishiro x reader #nagi seishiro smut

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httpstes · 9 months

Text

The most likely to

(astrology edition)

Pt.1 (?)

This is inspired by @tarynleighbond series on tiktok, I suggest you check her content out if you’re interested in similar astrology content like this.

This is all for fun and is loosely based on personal experiences I’ve had with individuals who have had these signs/house placement. I also have no inspiration for posts atm so this will have to do

Most likely to cry over a 99/100 on a test.

Capricorn sun, Virgo sun, Aries sun, Sun in 3H/6H/10H, Sun conj mercury/mars, Moon in 9H/10H, Moon in negative aspect to Mercury-Jupiter, Saturn in 1H/10H, Virgo/Leo/Cap ascendants, Mercury conj Asc/ or in first house, Mars in 3H/10H, strong capricorn/virgo/cancer/leo placements, Saturn conj sun/mercury/mars, Strong martian or saturnian energy.

Most likely to be in a weird love triangle, friends with benefits situation

Pisces sun, Taurus sun, Scorpio sun, Sun in 5H, Sun in 9H, Sun in 11H, Sun in positive aspect (trine, sextile, conj) to Venus/Uranus, air moons, moon conj neptune/uranus, moon in negative aspect to venus/jupiter, Pisces rising, Libra rising, Leo rising, Aquarius rising.

Most likely to join a cult unknowingly

Pisces sun, Aries sun, Sagittarius sun, Sun in 11H, Sun in 3H/9H (they probably knew and just wanted to have fun), Sun/Moon in 12H, Sun/Moon trine/conj Jupiter, Aries placements, Pisces placements, Sagittarius placements, mutable moons/ascendants, pisces/sagittarius/aries north nodes/MC, Libra moon, Cancer moon, Neptune in 1H/7H/10H/12H, Neptune conj personal planets, Moon conj other personal planets.

Most likely to start a cult

Scorpio sun, Sagittarius sun, Taurus sun/moon/ascendant (tried to make it all love and light but it didn’t turn out that way), Pisces sun, Sun in 8H, Sun in 10H, Sun in 11H/12H, Sun conj Pluto, Sun in negative aspect to Venus/Mercury, aries/pisces mercury, neptune conj mercury, neptune/uranus in 10H, moon in 10H/11H/12H, neptune in 1H, cancer/pisces moon, capricorn/virgo/scorpio ascendant/mercury (they did it for money), pisces/scorpio north node/MC,

Most likely to be scouted for modelling while grocery shopping

Libra and taurus placements duh, libra/taurus north nodes, venus in 1H/10H, libra/taurus asc/venus, sun in 1H/10H, aquarius rising, uranus/neptune in 10H, pisces/capricorn rising, uranus/neptune in 1H, gemini asc, mutable ascendants/venus', Mutable MC, Venus conj/sextile/trine MC, Libra/Taurus MC, gemini placements, scorpio ascendant, aries/gemini/pisces north node, Virgo ascendant.

Most likely to create an entirely new and false identity while somewhere out of town

Sun conj Mercury, Any strong Sun-Jupiter/Neptune aspects, Sun in 3H/5H/8H/11H, Pisces/Aquarius/Libra moons (they’d probably get lost in this fake identity and have an identity crisis), Sagittarius sun/moon/mercury/asc, Leo inner placements, virgo sun/moon/rising, Jupiter/Venus in 1H/10H/9H, Mercury/Neptune in 3H/9H/10H

Most likely to be looked at weird by elderly people in public

Aquarius moon, all 8H placements let’s be fr, Uranus/Neptune in 3/5/10/11H, Uranus-Asc aspects, Neptune-Asc aspects, Neptune/Uranus conj sun/moon/venus, Venus in 10H/5H, Venus conj Asc/Sun, Pisces moon/mercury/venus, Aquarius sun/rising, Capricorn ascendant.

Most likely to start a business and become a billionaire

We know them earth placements ace ts, strong earth placements, capricorn moon/ascendant/north node, taurus venus/moon/mercury (heavy on taurus mercury they deserve more credit), virgo moon/mercury, earth north node/MC, jupiter/venus/pluto 6H/10H/11H, mercury in 3H/10H, uranus in 10H/11H, strong saturn in the chart, saturn in 10H, 10H/11H stellium, pisces placements (if they got the drive not just the dream 💀), pisces and aries/capricorn placements, aquarius in inner planets, saturn/jupiter/venus conj MC

Most likely to be the perfect representative for the human race if we came into contact with aliens (i’m being fr here guys)

Strong Libra placements (we need that negotiator, balanced energy), Capricorn mercury/moon, Libra sun/moon/mercury/ascendant, mutable moons/ascendants, aquarius moon, pisces placements, pisces/libra/aquarius/taurus north nodes, Jupiter/Venus in 1H/4H/7H/10H/11H, Uranus/Neptune in 1H/4H/10H/11H/12H, gemini mercury/moon/venus, cancer mercury/ascendant, aries ascendant, 7th/9th/11th/12th house stellium.

Most likely to be unlicensed detectives and be better than real detectives 😭

Cancer sun/moon/mercury/ascendant, All scorpio placements but esp: moon,ascendant,mercury, mercury in 3H/8H,1H,12H, aquarius/capricorn mixed with water in a chart, 3H stellium, gemini moon/mercury/ascendant/mars, 12H/8H stellium, pisces ascendants/mercury, aries and scorpio placements in a chart, water placements mixed with air placements, gemini/scorpio/aries/sagittarius MC/north node (these guys wanna know the truth to everything), Aries/Scorpio/Gemini/Capricorn mars

Hey guys it’s been a long while 😭I haven’t had the motivation to post in ages and school is quite literally ripping me a new one, I still have some part 2's of things in my drafts to finish off from previous posts. If you guys have any interesting or creative suggestions that are astrology related pls let me know :) Dm me or ask me and i’ll get to them, I just want something new or creative because I don’t want to regurgitate the same information or topics that have been already said and done. I’m going to set up some type of schedule to get my drafts done. I hope you all have been well, make sure to treat yourself something nice and take care :D

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