#I hate having to sit still and activity-less so much | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

binniesbooks · 3 months ago

Text

• MIRROR, MIRROR ON THE WALL

SB 000 .F23 2024

wc 3.2k

pairings classrepresentative!Soobin x bulliedfem!reader

warnings humiliation, slight bully Soobin, bullied reader, fainting, facial, unprotected sex, creampie, mirror sex, recording, oral sex (m. receiving), squirting, name calling (+ if i missed anything)

faye's notes I'M TOTALLY CRAZY! Like seriously! I should stop writing fics out of impulse BAHAHAHAHA this is not proofread, I'm sorry, again, this story is just made impulsively 😭 Soobin should stop posting pictures out of nowhere. I need to write about him immediately because I'm his wife. 😋 No one should do it first before me 😋 I just love Soobin so much and his mirror shots! Fuck. Dead.

p.s. wrote this for more or less 4 hours, wtf

"Ahh! Fuck, why are you so f-fucking good!" Soobin threw his head back with one arm supporting his body and the other one holding his phone, trying to capture every moment.

"Look at you acting so modest at school, but here you are, giving someone head," he smirked, tugging a fistful of your hair, making you moan with his cock still inside your mouth.

"Shit!" He hissed through his teeth as he felt the pleasuring vibrations from your mouth.

Soobin is your most hated person in the world, if that's enough to explain. He makes fun of you. He causes you trouble, harm, and danger. But the fact that he's one of the most respected representatives of your class, you can't do anything but let your anger just boil inside you.

Choi Soobin is not your average type of classmate—enemy. He never fails to be included in the rank list—he's an intelligent and handsome man. He talks so well in front of the class, he gets high scores, he has the fame. You would actually have a crush on him if only he treated you the same way he treats the others.

And you hated your class for always laughing along with him and always tolerating what he does—well, he's actually a good student, you're just not on his "people that I will treat right" list.

"How are you miss 'teacher's pet'?" Soobin would subtly pull a chair to sit in front of your desk, often whispering these things.

"Soobin, please. If you have nothing else to say, move," you would firmly answer him.

"What? Aren't you proud that you know how to find your way under their pants?" he accused.

"I'm not doing any of the sort! I won't commit sexual activities with people other than my soon-to-be husband!" Your voice came out as a squeak as you tried to hold yourself back, but you're seething with anger.

"Oh, what are you doing anyway? Drawing your idols?" he snickers.

"Choi Soobin--"

"Yes, darling?" his eyes meeting yours with a smirk plastered on his lips. "You know what," he starts, casually tucking your straying hair behind your ear, "If I were you, I would stop doing that, they don't even know you."

You clicked your tongue, swatting his hand away, "Soobin, I swear—"

"Yes, yes, you swear," he snickers once again as he stands up, the sharp scraping sound of the steel chair making your ears hurt, gathering the class' attention. Soobin casually shrugged his shoulders, making your classmates continue what they were doing.

"Listen!" Soobin pounded the podium that afternoon for an announcement—oh yeah, he's the class representative.

"We will be having our annual outdoor activity next week."

With a heavy heart, you sighed. The 5-day trip is your most hated activity. You would go to a camp, pair up with your friends, and do the task together. Not to mention the unending seminars and trainings while you're at it.

Of course, a week won't pass by without Soobin getting into your nerves. You're so fed up with him and his petty attitude towards you, but you don't know it yourself, you just can't find the courage to fight back or at least stand up for yourself. You would always be left with your nails digging into your palms and a boiling blood.

"Okay guys! Line up! We're getting into the bus! I'm checking the attendance!" It's still so early in the morning and you get to hear his irritating voice again, which you resorted to wearing earphones to at least drown his voice.

However, you were the last one to get in inside the bus, so there are no more available seats to sit down aside from the two-seater in the front. And of course, one of the seats is already occupied. By who? Who else—the Choi Soobin himself.

"Excuse me, does anyone want to trade seats?" you bargained. Only for them to answer with "sorry, I want to sit with my friend" and such.

"As much as you don't want to sit beside me, I don't want to sit beside a whore and a slut like you," Soobin whispered with a fake smile when you sat beside him.

"Shut the fuck up. I'm not a whore nor a slut, I don't do explicit activities just like you," you seethed. "I bet you're the type that fucks anyone just to get your dick wet," you whispered, rolling your eyes. Soobin could only laugh at you.

You tried to focus on the road the whole ride. Doing your best to ignore Soobin's huge sleeping figure just beside you. Your eyes flitted to the rearview mirror of the bus, staring a hole at Soobin's head—to kill him—through the reflection. And yes, Soobin actually looks kind and peaceful when he sleeps. There, you silently wished for him to at least be a little less meaner.

You didn't know you fell asleep. You woke up inside the empty bus. You quickly marched out to look for your classmates. It looks like they are just starting to settle down. You scrambled your way towards the camp, pulling your suitcase. You're lucky one of your male classmates noticed you and had at least the decency to offer a hand.

When you arrived just by the door, you swear you heard Soobin murmur something behind you like 'look at our pick me girl' or something along the lines.

After the short orientation, you celebrated a little inside, knowing that the girls and the boys would not share the same room to sleep, at least. And you celebrated further when they announced that the ratio of the room to the student would be 1:1. Basically, you have the privacy you needed, and you don't need to be bothered about having a roommate.

You were asked to rest for now and just return to the hall in the afternoon to officially start the program. You giggled when you got inside the room. Quickly running to the bedroom and jumping on the bed.

But then you were startled when you heard laughter and loud voices.

Oh crap! The walls are thin!

But that's the least of your concerns; it's not like you would be noisy or something.

The afternoon came quickly, and the program kicked off without flaws. They announced the activities that should be done and the schedule for the meals, including the curfew hours. If you were to be asked? Your answer would be, so far, so good.

The dinner was also held in the same hall. The organizers did a good job of making use of the tables and chairs in the hall as your dining table and training table.

However, your little happy moment was immediately cut off when Soobin purposely grazed one of the students elbows, making the cold water she was holding be poured over you. Loud gasps from the crowd echoed inside the hall as strings of apology came out of the student's mouth. Your eyes flickered throughout the wide space as you muttered, "It's okay," to the student. Your eyes found Soobin walking away from the scene.

You quickly finished your meal after patting your drenched shirt with a tissue the student offered. After finishing your meal, you have no other choice but to go straight to your room.

You prayed that tomorrow would be a fine day for you.

Tuesday. Second day of the outdoor activity.

You were grouped into pairs. The organizers taught you about first aid. Orienting you about the things you should and shouldn't do in case of emergency. You and your partner executed every step well. It does show that you have learned everything.

Soobin also did well in their execution. But you noticed about his 'unnecessary' touches to his girl partner. Well, he actually isn't doing anything unnecessary. You're just too overprotective of your body.

Soobin watched you being mortified with his simple quirks, laughing to himself, judging you and your mind.

Wednesday.

You were grouped into five members. Your next activity was the obstacle course. The sole reason for this is to train your mind to think quickly for a technique that would work and allow you to lead.

Some of the groups even failed from the start. They couldn't decide which would be the leader.

On the other hand, Soobin was leading his group at ease. He looks like he knows it, just like the back of his hand. Too familiar with what a leader should do.

Thursday.

It suddenly rained, so your activity that was supposed to be held on the mountain was postponed and was moved for the next day. Which made your stay eventually longer for another day. The organizers resorted to an indoor activity. Or you could actually call this free time. They allowed everyone to have fun. Everyone was having a blast on their own or with their friends.

You decided to take a short walk while the rain poured hard. You passed by a vending machine and grabbed yourself a drink—which might be wrong because you're too far from the hall now and there's no restroom to be found.

Your eyes widened when you saw a room, which you guessed was a toilet. But when you opened the door, someone was inside.

"What the fuck?! Don't you know how to knock?!"

"Aaahhhh! Don't you know how to lock?!" you retorted as you froze in your feet and turned your back to the person inside the toiled.

"Fucking goodness! What the hell are you doing here?!" he zipped his pants up before he turned to you—again, it was Soobin.

"I-i'm looking for a restroom! You should know how to lock the door!" You squealed.

You heard him scoffed, "The lock doesn't work, and..."

"And?" you questioned, folding your arms in front of you, feigning frustration—but you couldn't hide the fact that your ears were so red.

"This restroom is not for the girls, weirdo." His lips played a mocking smile. "You're not beating the whore allegations, are you?" He stepped forward, trapping you on the wall, his hand flew to your waist, pinning you.

You tried to push him away, "Get your filthy hands off—H-hah!"

Your body trembled, and your knees became wobbly when he pressed his hand against your lower abdomen.

"S-soobin... Your... Your hand..." You tried to pry his hand away, but to no avail. Soobin just pressed it further, making the hair of your body stand up.

"S-soobin... Please... Y-your h-hand," you stuttered. You felt a few drops of the hot liquid flow out from you.

Soobin pulled his hand away, leaving you slumped on the floor, shaking. "You're so easy," he chuckled before he left.

You didn't almost make it to the toilet. The moment you let it out, you felt tears run down your cheeks. Maybe because of humiliation, or anger, or arou—there's no way!

That night, you chose not to eat dinner, you stayed inside your room. However, someone knocked on your door. You didn't want to open it at first, but the person behind kept on knocking. When you opened the door, there's no person in the hallway. But a food was left beside your door. Your name was written on the water bottle and the packaging of the meal, just like the other meals you ate the past few days. You decided to eat it, not bothering to think whether it's poisoned or whatever.

Friday. The supposed to be last day of the outdoor activity.

It was a team activity again. The survival. Your team must survive for at least one day in the mountains. You were supposed to look for foods in the wild, to survive a day or night in the mountains. The team is composed of four members. And lucky you, you were teamed up with Soobin.

You tried your best to be as distant as possible. Just looking at him makes you remember everything that happened last night.

Everything was going well from the start. Three of you were girls, and you all agreed that Soobin would be the leader of the group.

You made a small port for the four of you to rest, you found fruits that can be eaten, and you gathered the woods for the fire you were supposed to make later.

However, Soobin wasn't expecting something like this to happen—for you to faint out of exhaustion. You are actually weak-hearted, which makes you easily dizzy and tired when doing extra workloads.

"Soobin! Y/n fainted!"

"What?!" Soobin quickly ran towards the three of you. The other girls are panicking about you. "Fuck!" he muttered as he tried to wake you up. "Y/n wake up!"

"This won't do! You guys continue our task; I'll bring her to the camp. Please take care of yourselves up here, okay?"

Soobin carried you on his back, walking and running down the mountain as fast as he could. He was assisted by the organizers, but the program wasn't perfect at all! There are no nurses around.

So Soobin got no choice but to bring you to his assigned room and take care of you instead—class representative duties, right?

"God fucking damn it!" he huffed as he laid you down on the floor, and he was chasing his breath.

He washed himself first, cleaning out the dirt that clung to his body. Then he grabbed some of his extra clean shirts for you to change into. He wiped you clean with a wet towel and wanted to change your clothes, but he decided not to do it or you would make a fuss. Then he carefully laid you down on his bed, keeping you warm.

One of the teachers knocked and checked on him. He was also told that the activity was cancelled and they made the students go back. The teacher was relieved to know that you were fine and that you're resting.

You woke up with him sitting beside you. "W-where are we? What happened?" you weakly asked.

"You're finally awake," he sighed. "You fainted."

He then passed you a packet of sugar and some water. "Drink this, I have nothing else to offer."

After a few minutes, you felt yourself recover a bit. It wasn't that bad, you're just too exhausted.

"Let's go back," you said as you rose from the bed and walked towards the door.

"Look at this attention seeker," he scoffed.

"What the fuck are you saying again?! I just fainted!" you yelled back.

"That's right! You just fainted, and you want to go back in the mountains? For what? For our classmates to carry you and let them touch your body? Or for the teachers to give you extra credits for being a 'good girl'?" Soobin's brow furrowed as he raised his voice.

"What did you say?" You walked closer to him.

"That you're a slut, a whore, and an attention seeker. Simple as that."

Soobin smirked as he watched you dug your nails onto your palm again.

"What? Am I wrong?"

Tears were threatening to fall from your eyes as you looked up to him with gritted teeth.

"You're... You're totally wrong..." you sniffled.

"Then show me you aren't like that," he says.

"W-what?"

Soobin sat on the bed as he watched you. "Get on your knees for me," he smirked. "Show me you are not a teacher's fuck toy."

"Prove it, so I won't tell the class you soiled your pants last night," he finishes.

You didn't know what came over you. You just found yourself kneeled down between his legs as you tried your hardest to suck him.

Ahh! Fuck, why are you so f-fucking good!" Soobin threw his head back with one arm supporting his body and the other one holding his phone, trying to capture every moment.

"Look at you acting so modest at school, but here you are, giving someone head," he smirked, tugging a fistful of your hair, making you moan with his cock still inside your mouth.

"Shit!" He hissed through his teeth as he felt the pleasuring vibrations from your mouth.

You pulled away. "S-stop recording," you muttered.

"No, this is for the records. A proof that you aren't a teacher's pet," he grinned before guiding your head back to his cock.

"You're such a whore," he snickers as he zooms in to your face. "Fucking good, with this pretty face," he muttered.

He shoved your face down, practically fucking your throat, not giving a fuck at how you gagged. Then he pulled you away as he shot his cum on your face.

"Ohh fuck! Fuck! Ahh!" His body trembled as he finally came, his phone shaking in the process.

Pressing the stop button, he tossed his phone on the bed and pulled you up on his lap, crashing his lips against yours as his hand wandered on your body, groping and squeezing any part.

"Need to be inside you, you slut," he whispered between the kisses.

"'m n-not," you whimpered. His hand finally settled on your waist, and he grinds you above him.

"Look how hard you make me," he said, his teeth grazing your neck.

"S-soobin... Stop... W-we shouldn't be doing—ahh...mpph.." Your soft moans and whines are music to his ear.

"Shhh, be quiet for me, okay?" he said, giving your chin a kiss. He slips his hand under your skirt, pushing your underwear to the side.

"See? You're a total whore, y/n. You're wet."

Too embarrassed, you hide on his neck, hugging him closer. He easily lifted your hips and slid himself inside you with so much ease as you whimpered on his ear.

"T-this is w-wrong.. Ahh.. please..."

"Wrong?" he questioned, tilting your face to look behind you, only to be met with your own eyes. Soobin manhandled you with ease and turned you around instead. Your back flushed against his chest as he spread and held your legs up.

"Watch how your hungry pussy suck my cock," he whispered to your ear as the both of you watched yourselves in the mirror. Your ears turned red out of embarrassment as you bit your lower lip, restraining yourself to moan.

"Be quiet, okay? The others are back," he said, kissing your ear. Your hands clasped over your mouth, the squelching sound was the only thing to be heard.

"I love how dirty you are, fuck, you turn me on so much," he grunts, hitting deeper places inside you.

"B-bin..." you whined, tears rolling down your cheek.

"S-something's g-gonna.... Ahhh... S-soobin, please..."

"You're close, doll? Cum on my cock, then," he smirks.

"N-no wait! Wait!" you squirmed, trying to get off of him, but he's too strong for you.

"S-soobin please w-wait---" Clear liquid gushed out of your pussy in a squirting manner because of his cock still deep inside you. Your body started twitching when he continued to fuck you relentlessly.

"Gonna fill you. 'M gonna fill you to the brim, fuck you're so fucking tight!" Soobin hides behind your neck as he finishes inside you, his grip on your thighs tightened.

"B-bin... I feel like... 'm gonna... F-faint..." Your body was slumped on his chest. He slowly pulls out of you, a glob of his cum coming out from your spent folds. He then laid you down on his bed again and lays beside you as he tucked the both of you to bed.

The problem for tomorrow is for tomorrow. He's now on cloud nine, feeling so good as he lays beside his favorite girl crush.

@binniesbooks 2024

#faye's library #soobin's books #soobin x reader #soobin x you #soobin smut #choi soobin x reader #choi soobin x you #choi soobin smut #soobin imagines #soobin scenarios #choi soobin scenarios #choi soobin imagines #txt smut #txt hard hours #txt hard thoughts #txt imagines #txt scenarios

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lovemybluebully · 3 months ago

Text

A Small Lapse of Judgement

What do you get when you cross a drunk Wolverine? Tickled. You get tickled. 🤣

Okay, yeah sorry guys. This one is literally like twice as long as my last one, but Logan and Wade both needed to get wrecked good. lol I'm just having too much fun writing these guys. So get some snacks or something because you're going to be here for a minute.

More somewhat movie spoilers, and Wade saying inappropriate things to Logan's annoyance. lol Oh, and of course tons of cussing. And tickles. Lots of tickles.

"Deadpool and Wolverine"-verse

M/M Tickle Fic

Word Count: 4,372

At first Logan had declined Wade's invitation to live with him at his apartment. Having been on his own for so long Logan didn't want to accept the fact that anyone actually wanted him around, but after Wade's persistent prodding and convincing he finally accepted.

"Yes!! It'll be like a sexy slumber party!" Wade had whooped, but one steely-eyed look from Logan made him turn it down, "Ahem. Or, you know, just two guys hanging out together with no lewd activities of any kind...."

No doubt Wade pushed Logan's buttons and got on his nerves more than anyone he had ever met in his life, but after their ordeal together there was no denying the bond that had been created between the two of them. It was hard for him to admit it, but Wade was definitely someone Logan now considered as a friend.

Surprisingly he settled in quickly and had begun to make himself comfortable, allowing him to let his guard down and actually relax for once. It was only a one-bedroom apartment so even though he had to sleep out on the couch every night he was grateful to have a place to call home.

And Wade was thrilled to have him there. Unlike his other roommate, Blind Al, Logan was progressively becoming more tolerant of his off the wall antics so it was nice to have someone else there that he could really joke around with. And drink with, though Logan still tended to embark on some solo day drinking of his own.

Wade shuffled into the living room in his crocs one late evening with Dogpool cradled in his arm to find Logan slouched over on the couch in nothing but jeans and a tank top and a nearly empty bottle of whiskey in his hand. Further observation revealed there to be two more empty bottles laying around on the ground by his feet.

"Hey. Robert Downey Jr. Wanna take it easy on the booze?"

Logan lazily looked up at him, rolling his eyes when he saw Wade was allowing the dog to lick all over his face.

"I will once ya take it easy on always making out with that mutt."

Wade stared at him in defiance as he continued to kiss Dogpool's head while she licked all around his mouth, making Logan grimace in disgust before Wade set her down upon the ten-sizes-too-big dog bed he had bought for her.

"You know if you were jealous all you had to do was ask, baby girl. There's plenty of Wade Wilson to go around," he leaped onto the couch beside Logan and puckered his lips, making smooching sounds as he tried to pull the other man close while Logan cursed and struggled to hold him back.

"Hey hey! Fucking knock it off, asshole!" Despite his annoyance he chuckled a little with the alcohol lightening his mood and after a few more seconds Wade finally relented to sit himself back.

"You can fight it all you want, but I know you'll come around one day. There's no resisting my natural labido," Wade sat facing him as he gave a wink and a flirty grin, causing Logan to sigh with a shake of his head and take another sip from the bottle.

"See this is exactly why I still drink. I need something to help tolerate your obnoxious ass on a daily basis."

"Fine by me. It has its benefits. Number one being that you're so much less stabby when you're like this," Wade teased, wiggling a finger into his side as Logan squirmed and giggled before swatting at his hand with boozed up coordination.

"Why are ya always tickling me? I hate that shit," Logan was still smiling though as he rubbed at his irritated ribs.

"Because," Wade smiled and turned to look out at the audience before whispering quietly under his breath, "The people demand it."

He sat staring in silence for several seconds until Logan lifted a brow in confusion.

"The fuck you looking at?"

"Nothing," Wade turned back to him, "Well it's because I have to make you laugh somehow, grumpy pants. You're always so serious, and worst of all you never laugh at my jokes."

"Oh yeah? Have ya tried actually being funny?" A big shit eating grin was plastered on Logan's face as he instinctively pulled his arms in close to his body, not expecting Wade to let that one slide.

"Ooh hoo hoo, you're going to pay for that one later. You know what, smart ass? Maybe I'll tickle you in front of Laura. I'm sure she'd love to help me double team you sometime. A little badger on badger action, if you will."

It was Wade's turn to smirk as Logan just looked back at him with nervous eyes that he tried to hide behind the scowl now creasing over his face.

"You'd better fuckin' not."

"I don't know. It's sounding like a pretty good idea to me. Usually I have to pay to see that kind of thing but-"

Logan growled as his claws started to come out, but Wade just laughed and wagged a finger at him.

"Ah ah ah! Rule number one, no bloodshed in the house. So best keep those claws of yours in check, my little kitty cat."

"Just don't give me a reason then," Logan warned, retracting the claws before his eyes raised to focus on Wade's head, "By the way, how long are ya gonna keep wearing that stupid toupee? I already told you that you ain't foolin' anyone with that thing."

Wade looked positively insulted as he patted and smoothed down the hair on his head.

"Uhmm excuse me? As I've told you a thousand times, it's a hair system. It's so I can go out in public looking halfway decent. Not all of us were blessed with the perfect bone structure of a successful Broadway actor," turns his head briefly to look at the camera, "And besides, I think it looks quite distinguished."

"I've seen better looking roadkill than whatever that thing's made out of," Logan snorted and downed the rest of the bottle in his hand before dropping it on the floor beside the other empty bottles.

"Says the guy who looks like he has roadkill glued to the sides of his face," Wade gave a less than gentle tug on his muttonchops as Logan grunted and smacked his hand away.

"Oh yeah? Well at least I can grow facial hair, pal. You on the other hand don't have a speck of hair on your whole goddamn body. You're like a fucking pre-pubescent child. This is what a real man looks like," a tipsy smirk crawled across his face as he nonchalantly pulled up his tank top to show off his hairy chest and stomach.

He emphasized his point by running a hand over his hirsute, muscular torso while Wade just stared very, very hard.

"........Are you trying to turn me on right now? Because it's working," Wade was smiling deviously and reaching a hand out as Logan chuckled dryly and gave him a hard shove, sending him flying to the other end of the couch, "Just so you know, I'm adding that one to the spank bank."

"You fucking wish, bub. Think ya got a better chance with that ugly ass dog of yours," he nodded over towards the sleeping pooch while tugging his shirt back down.

It was rare to see such a repulsed look on Wade's face as the man always seemed to be down for whatever but apparently messing with the dog was where he drew a line.

"Woah woah, that's just going too far now. You need therapy, my friend."

"Oh please. I forgot you were the fucking poster child for mental stability," Logan muttered as he lifted his legs to prop his bare feet up on the coffee table in front of him.

"Heyheyhey! What in the ever-living fuck do you think you are doing? That's where we cut up our Bolivian nose candy-"

"I thought Feige said ya can't talk about that."

"Well what Feige doesn't know won't hurt him. Now let's go. Chop chop. Feet off the table, bud," Wade scolded and kicked Logan in the leg as the man rolled his eyes and begrudgingly pulled his feet down.

"You are such a fucking caveman. That table is an antique. Furniture crafted from the finest-OOof!" Wade grunted in pain as Logan dropped his feet onto his lap with his heel coming down hard onto his groin, "Uh uh nope. Not happening. Feet off the Deadpool too."

"Well I gotta put 'em somewhere. What? Offended that ya weren't my first choice? Be flattered I finally found a good use for you," Logan smirked big time at the genuine outrage that now displayed on Wade's face.

"What the fuck do you mean?! You've seen what a phenomenal cook I am!"

"Almost burned down the apartment."

"I'm the king of late-night karaoke!"

"Got the cops called on us three times already."

"Well I'm good at making friends everywhere I go."

"I had to beat the shit out of all those bikers to get them off of you. Not to mention you almost got us banned from my favorite bar, you dumb fuck."

Wade started to pout from Logan shooting down all of his claims, but was quickly back to grinning as he thought of something that Logan couldn't possibly argue against.

"Okay, you know what? You wanna see something I'm good at? I'll show you something I'm very good at," Wade smirked and grabbed ahold of Logan's legs, securing his ankles in one arm as he began ruthlessly tickling the bottoms of his feet.

Logan lost any sense of calm he had as he immediately broke into a hysterical laughing fit, figuring out too late that he had made a huge mistake. There weren't many things in life that could get the Wolverine to lose his cool, but Wade Wilson the Tickle Monster never failed.

"Baahahahahahaha! Wahahahahade, dohohohon't!! Okaahaahaahaay! I'll mooohoohoove 'em!!"

Logan was far too buzzed to pull his usual act of fighting back his reactions and trying to pretend that he wasn't as horribly sensitive as he really was. Not that any of that ever discouraged Wade since he knew he'd always get him to crack eventually.

"Nah, that's okay. You just keep them right where they are, Giggles. Maybe this'll teach you some manners. Or not, that's okay too. I wouldn't want to run out of excuses to do this....," he scratched at the soles with Logan going nuts and frantically pulling at his captured legs while Wade's arm only squeezed tighter around them to ensure he wouldn't escape.

"Stahahahaaap, ya dihihihick! Fuhuhuhuckin' lehehehehe-lehehet me gohohohohooo!"

"What's that? Aww did you forget your safe word again? So confusing. How do I know if you really want me to stop or not?" The merc teased with his fingers scribbling at Logan's arches as the X-man's laughter surged in volume.

"Fuhuhuhuhuck you! Aaaheheeheeheehee nohohoho! Waahaait! I'm sohohohohorry!" He howled with tears already in his eyes as Wade found the weak spots under his toes; his body twisting and flopping around as he braced his arms on the couch in his clumsy attempts to get free.

Wade always enjoyed when Logan was in this state. Not only was he a lot less homicidal than if he was sober but he wasn't nearly as uptight and didn't even fight the tickles as hard. He practically just rolled over and took it and didn't hold much back.

He suspected that Logan didn't hate being tickled nearly as much as he made out and loved to tease him about it much to the older man's insistent denial of the fact. It's likely that Logan would rather die than ever admit something like that.

Wade then cleared his throat and began to speak in his best exaggerated Australian accent.

"Crikey mate! Here we have the Wolverine. Best known for its violent tendencies and natural ability to be a complete jackass. When confronted by a stronger and more powerful predator it begins to make the most adorable snorting sounds that are meant as a sign of his submission. Let's listen in, shall we?"

Logan had been belting out uncontrollable snorts all throughout his laughter and it was one of Wade's favorite things to poke fun at him for.

"Shhh-Shuhuhuhut uhuhuhup! You're sohohohoho fuhuhucking stuhuhuhupid!"

"Oh, I'm fucking stupid? Who's the one making all the little piggy noises, Wilbur? Speaking of piggies....," Wade smirked as he started to play with his toes again, "This little piggy was an alcoholic....This little piggy was always so mean to his friend, Wade.....This little piggy talked shit about sweet little Dogpool....This little piggy..."

"Fuhuhuhuhuuuck! Alrihihihihight I gihihihive uhuhup! Haahahahaah! No-No mohohohore!" Logan had managed to pull a foot free and was now kicking Wade in the back as hard as he could, which wasn't very hard at all due his weakened state from laughing so much.

"No more? No MORE? Sorry, sweet cheeks. But I've got plenty more," Wade then threw his foot aside as he turned and dove onto Logan's prone form to now attack his very ticklish stomach, "That was for treating me like an object! This is for saying I'm not funny!"

Wade snickered with glee as the feral man expelled a less than manly squeal of giggles and immediately curled into a protective ball, though all attempts to evade were useless. Deadpool was positively relentless.

"Nooooohohohohohoo nohohohot thehehehehere! Okahahaay you're funny! You're fuhuhuhuhuhunnyyyyyaaahahahahahaaStaahahahahahaaap!"

"Oh sure! All of a sudden I'm just magically funny now! Don't insult my intelligence! You can't bullshit a bullshitter!" Wade managed to get his hands underneath Logan's shirt, raking his fingers up and down his bare stomach and forcing him to dissolve into a lengthy, mirthful wheeze.

"Why are you so ticklish? Is it part of your mutation? A result of a Weapon X experiment gone horribly wrong? Talk, damn you! I need answers!"

Not that Wade actually expected him to answer, but Logan was laughing entirely too hard and fighting it even less. He had his head thrown back in hysterics that exposed his oversized canines, writhing feebly while tears were leaking down his reddened cheeks.

It was a sight to see the normally powerful X-man rendered helpless from such a soft touch, but it just goes to prove that healing factors and big muscles were completely useless against a tickle attack.

Wade would have loved to keep tickling him all night, and he knew the man technically could take it with the high amount of stamina he possessed, but it was time to let him go now and save it for another time. Logan had been a good sport, and he didn't want to push it too far.

Pulling his hands back he now stood triumphantly hovering over the still giggling and plastered Wolverine, who kept his body all curled up in case the crazy merc decided to come for him again.

"Are you sure you're the Wolverine of legends? I mean, this isn't exactly what I had pictured. If I hadn't personally seen you in action then I'd have some serious doubts," he smirked as Logan finally relaxed and slowly splayed out on the couch.

"Heehehehe-That's the worst Wolverine to you, bub. You-hehehee-fucking suck," Logan continued to giggle as he struggled to fight off the dizzying high of the combined tickle assault mixed with the alcohol in his bloodstream. Wade was pleased to see he hadn't soured his mood.

"But do I swallow is the real question? Hehehe, sorry, I couldn't help myself. Now did you learn your lesson, you drunken idiot?"

Logan regained some sense of focus as he slowly sat up and looked up at Wade with the most cocky grin.

"Of course not. Gonna take a lot more than that, fucker."

"Do not tempt me, Peanut. I showed you mercy this time, but I cannot guarantee this next round I will be as charitable," Wade smirked and cracked his knuckles, surprised to see Logan lean back onto the couch with his arms folded behind his head.

"Pffft. You don't fuckin' scare me. You can do your worst. Though I'm sorry to say you're not gonna get the chance. Ya wanna know why?"

"Why?" Wade practically demanded with his hands on his hips.

"That's why." Logan lifted a hand to point behind Wade as the merc whirled around to confront what may have got the drop on him and found.....nothing. Nobody.

"Wait a minute.....did I really just fall for the oldest trick in the bo-AAAHCK!" Wade let out a scream as he was pounced from behind by a playfully growling Wolverine and landed hard on his stomach with his face hitting the floor. He had seriously misjudged the other man's current ability to fight back.

"Heheh, you really are a fucking idiot. Now let's see how you like this shit...," Logan immediately dug into Wade's ribs from where he sat perched on his back and was more than thrilled by the scream that ripped out of the merc's mouth. He knew there was no way a loudmouth like Wade wouldn't be ticklish.

"Nohohooo Logan wahahahahaait! Ahahaheeheehehehehe! You cahahahan't tihihihickle meheheee! I'm-I'm the 'ler! Nohohot yooooou!"

"The what? What the hell are ya talkin' about now?" Logan didn't let up though while Wade tried to sputter out an explanation.

"The cohohohommunity! Ihihihit's a thihihiing! I g-guess tehehehechnically I'm a swihihihihitch buhuhuhut stihihill!"

Logan raised his brows, looking more confused than before as he ended up just shrugging it off and shaking his head.

"Nevermind. I really don't wanna know. Now shut up and laugh, asshole," Logan's big hands ran up and down his sides, squeezing his waist and making it back up into his armpits as Wade flailed and shrieked and desperately tried to clamp his arms down.

Logan couldn't help but laugh at Wade's reactions with how he had barely started in on him yet.

"Geez. Have ya really been this fucking ticklish this whole time? Looks like we've got some time to make up for," his fingers fluttered around under Wade's arms, producing wild cackles as he wriggled like a worm and tried to scoot across the floor.

"Get off get off! Nooohahahahahaha! I'm nohohohohot tihihihicklish! I'm nohohohohohohot!"

"Well if you're not ticklish then all this shouldn't be botherin' ya, right? Or do you prefer me stabbin' ya better?" Logan smirked as he used the three middle fingers on each hand to simulate his claws as he repeatedly poked at Wade's ribcage with rapid fire speed, "Hehe, now you're dead."

"Gaahaahahahahaha!! Nohohohohot the clahahahahaws! Mehehehehercy!" Wade begged, trying to reach behind him to smack Logan's hands away. Spoiler alert, it didn't work.

"Mercy? Ha! That's a fuckin' good one. Hey, whaddya know. I guess you are funny after all. Hehehe, tickle tickle tickle, fuckface."

Wade's hysterics were increasing in volume by the second and Logan snorted in amusement at the thought that they might get the cops called on them for a suspected murder happening in the apartment.

"Holy shit. Keep it down, will ya? You're gonna wake the-"

"What in the name of Satan's asshole is that horrible noise?!?!" Blind Al shouted in annoyance as she wandered into the room and nearly tripped over the two men roughhousing on the floor.

"Blind Al! Blind Ahahahahal! Hehehehelp mehehehehe!" Wade screamed as he managed to roll over underneath Logan and reach out a desperate hand towards his elderly roommate.

"You're such a dick. Ya know ya don't have to emphasize that she's blind all the time, ya inconsiderate moron," Logan rolled his eyes with a smile as he now had better access to Wade's ribs and stomach and dug right in.

"Baahahahah-Buhuhuhut thahahat's her nahahahahame! B-Becahahahause she's blihihihind! Gehehehet ihihit?!"

The older woman's lips pursed with disdain.

"Please keep torturing him. I will sleep good tonight knowing that stupid motherfucker is suffering," she gently patted Logan on the shoulder as she turned around and made her way out of the room.

"You got it, boss lady," Logan nodded with a smirk and scratched furiously at Wade's stomach, easily avoiding the flailing hands trying to stop him.

"Blihihihihind Al! Aahahhahahha! You trahahahaahaahaitor! Ahahahafter ahahall I've d-dohohohone for yooohoou!"

"Maybe you could gag his bitch ass too," she yelled back over her shoulder, making Logan chuckle.

"She's got a point. You're loud as fuck. Always makin' fun of how I snort while you're over here shrieking like a fuckin' little girl."

With that, Wade was struck with inspiration as he thought of a way to get Logan to stop.

"Yehehehes! Oh yehehehes Lohohohogan! Dohohohn't stop! Th-Thahahat's ihihihit! Tihihihickle me! Tihihickle mehehehe untihihihil I pahahahass ouhohout!" Wade pretended to moan between his laughs as he put his hands flat against the floor to demonstrate that he had no intention of preventing the tickling, though it was a major struggle for him to keep them there.

Logan tilted his head as he stared down at Wade in bemusement.

"Can't tell if you're tryin' to psyche me out into stopping, or if you really do like it that much. I wouldn't put it past ya to actually enjoy being tickled. Not the weirdest thing about you. Either way, if ya say not stop then I won't," Logan smirked and proceeded to tickle him even harder as he kneaded into his hips.

"Noooooohohohoooo! Okaahahaay! I lihihihied! I cahahahan't tahahahahake it! Pleasepleaseplease stooohahahahoooop!" Wade squealed and kicked his legs around and uselessly tried to grab at the other man's wrists to pry him off.

"Now was that really a lie? Are ya sure it wasn't an educated wish?" Logan loved to bring that stupid shit up every once in a while, knowing it would get under Wade's skin.

"So fuhuhuhunny I forgohohot to lahahahaugh, ahahahasshole! Nohohow gehehet off meeeheeheeheee! You fuhuhuhucking mahahahade yohohohour point!"

Logan was about to make another quip when he heard loud barking and turned his head to see Dogpool come flying over the back of the couch towards them in superhero slow-motion.

She then rushed in to grab Wade by the hair as she pulled with all of her tiny body weight trying to free him.

"Yehehehes! Mary Puhuhuhuppins! Saahahahave pa-pa! Thaahahahat's it!"

"Yeah.....that dog weighs like eight pounds. Hehehe, don't think you're getting away from me just yet, bub," Logan snickered as he dragged Wade closer and plunged his fingers into his armpits, earning another shriek as the merc futilely clamped his arms down and thrashed even harder.

"Looohohohogaaan staaahahahahahahap! I'm-I'm sohohohohoh glahahad to seeheehee-ahahahahhah-see yohohou ehehehembrace thihihis sss-sihihide of you buhuhuhut-AAAAHH! FUHUHUHUCK!!"

A loud ripping sound was heard as Logan looked up in wonderment to see Wade with a hand gripped to his now bald head as Dogpool stood there with his whole hair piece in her mouth.

Logan couldn't help it. The sight of Wade laying there with those fucking staples sticking out of his head and the dog now gnawing on his toupee like a chew toy was just too comical.

He started to laugh. Really laugh. Laughing too damn hard to keep tickling Wade as he literally fell over, holding his sides while his whole body shook in uncontrollable guffaws.

Wade was finally able to sit up as he glared at his hysterical friend, but he had a smile on his face too.

"Really?! That's what makes you laugh?! You seeing me getting hurt is funny to you? Pretty fucked up, you sado," he pretended to sound annoyed, but really he was anything but. It was rare to see Logan laugh like this besides when Wade was tickling him half to death so he'd let him have this for the moment.

Still he had to strike back somehow for this indignity.

"Puppins attack! Kill, my little munchkin! Kill!" Wade shouted as the dog rushed towards the fallen man and jumped onto him. But Dogpool didn't have a mean bone in her body and only knew how to attack with love as she affectionately licked Logan's face much to his aversion.

"Blech! Wahahade! Gehet your dohohog!" He bellowed as he continued to laugh, but other than trying to shield his face with his arms he didn't do much to stop her.

"Okay okay, come here, sweetie pie. Lets get you away from the bad man who tried to kill your pa-pa," Wade reached over and pulled her off of him, setting her into his lap.

Logan finally fought down the giggles as he sat up to find Wade staring longingly at the destroyed toupee in his hand. He kind of felt bad for the guy and thought he should offer some words of encouragement.

"Yeah, that thing's fucked. Big time. But hey, I think you look better without it," he nodded, using his shirt to wipe off his face as Wade gave him a genuine smile.

"You're only saying that because you're drunk," the merc teased back as Logan shrugged in response and grinned broadly.

"You're probably right. I wouldn't touch ya with a ten foot pole."

"That's okay. I don't mind doing all the touching...," Wade gave him a quick squeeze on the side as Logan snorted and lurched away from his reach and got to his feet.

"Don't fucking start that again. I'd say we're even now. Besides, you don't wanna fuck with me now that I know how damn ticklish you are. It's a stalemate. We can put this all behind us and move on. Now if ya don't mind I'd like to get some sleep," he waved the other man away as he grabbed some blankets off the back of the couch to set up his sleeping area.

Wade just smirked as he began walking out of the room with Dogpool in his arms.

"Silly silly Wolvie. I'm not sure you realize the implications of your actions. But I'm afraid this is far from over. You, my friend, have just started a war."

Logan's face fell as he only stared back at Wade in wide-eyed silence.

"Nighty night, Peanut. Sweet dreams," Wade smirked devilishly, waving with wiggling fingers as he flicked off the light switch on the wall.

#ticklish!wolverine #ticklish!logan #ticklish!wade #ticklish!deadpool #lee!logan #lee!wolverine #lee!wade #lee!deadpool #ler!wolverine #ler!logan #ler!wade #ler!deadpool #deadpool tickle #wolverine tickle #tickle fic

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sturnioloisland · 5 months ago

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Cuddling with Chris | HC’s

Pairing: Chris x GN!Reader

Warnings: Maybe a little suggestive at some points?? But nothing explicit.

Requested: No

A/n: Chris 100% gives the best cuddles, I just know it.

You guys see how this man is constantly hugging his brothers or showing some sort of physical affection towards them? ABSOLUTELY translates to whenever you guys are cuddling in bed together.

The world’s BIGGEST cuddle bug and he doesn’t even try to hide it.

Literally wraps his entire self around your body when he’s laying next to you in bed. He really just couldn’t get any closer to you.

He does enjoy laying with you without any clothes on — not in a sexual way. The warmth for your bodies bring him comfort, and like previously mentioned, he just wants to be as close to you no barriers between you guys.

LOVES when you trace your fingers across his scalp or twirl the ends of his hair around your fingers. Tingles would be send down his spine causing shivers to run through his body. It’s so relaxing to him.

Big spoon or little spoon? Baby he’s both. You have a bad day and just want him to hold you? Say less. He gives you puppy dog eyes because he just wants to be wrapped in your arms? How could you say no to him.

I feel like sometimes he would be super fidgety when in bed because he just has so much energy, so he’ll just be constantly moving — this isn’t a super common occurrence though

If you’re sick and stuck in bed, he would attempt to make you soup (usually heating up a can of soup on the stove). He would then bring it to you in bed, and he would either help feed it to you, or just sit next to you. He doesn’t care if he gets sick from you. All that matters is that you know that he’s still there for you.

Sometimes while you guys are cuddled up next together, he’ll suddenly bring up some random topic and just start running with it. You listen to him intently while tracing your fingers across his chest. Even if you have no clue what he’s talking about, you enjoy listening to his interests. He’s such an open book with you.

Hates crying in front of you, but sometimes he just breaks down from built up emotions that he hasn’t confessed. Even though he doesn’t like crying, he feels safe enough in your arms to just let it all out.

After certain activities in the bedroom, he just loves staying in bed with you. He’s not quick to get up and clean you or himself off just yet. He likes basking in the afterglow with you. It’s only when you start complaining about feeling dirty that he finally gets up to clean you both off.

Absolutely the type of guy to stick his head under your shirt to lay against your bare chest.

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sincerelybubbles · 7 months ago

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pairing: spencer reid x reader

word count: 603

warnings: angst :(

part two

it wasn't meant to be this way.

when you and spencer started dating, the honeymoon phase dripped into day-to-day life and activities, an easy transition that left you comfortable, happy, and (as you're now noticing) incredibly vulnerable.

"you can't act like my job, my life and hobbies and interests, are less important than what you do," you say, voice wet with tears.

spencer, frustrated, drags his hands through his hair, making it stand up straight, "my job objectively is!" he counters, loud, annoyed.

"sure, i'll give you that. whatever, that's not the point and you know it."

"i don't! i don't know the point because you don't have one. you just don't want to end the argument and not be right. you're impossible."

"this! this is the point," you say, gesturing between the two of you. you're both upset: you're on the verge of tears, he's disheveled from pacing and messing with his hair.

and still, you love him. you sort of hate that you do - he's being a dick, he can't see how he's hurting you, and he won't make any effort to see your side of the argument. but you love him, so much that your belly hurts with it.

"you don't listen when i come to you with things that are bothering me," you say, reaching forward to grab his arm as if the physical contact might make your point come across better. you can see in his face that he's gearing up to say something else and interrupt him before he can say anything. "all i said was that i didn't feel like you prioritized me and my life and you're the one who made it into work and hobbies.

"i can't sit here and constantly feel inferior. i know your job is important, i know you're saving lives. i don't say anything when i don't see you for weeks at a time, i don't say anything when you have to leave the second the phone rings, and i certainly haven't ever said anything to indicate that i think I'm somehow more important than all of that.

"all i'm asking is that you don't make me sit here and wonder why you're suddenly not making the effort you've had no problem making for the past 3 years and i'm begging you to stop making me feel like i'm crazy when i come to you with this shit!"

"maybe you feel crazy because you're acting crazy, blowing something up into nothing," spencer says, shaking his head at you. he tugs his arm away, taking a step back. "i'm done with this. i can't, i'm too busy to deal with you right now."

"deal with me?" you ask, anger flashing hot in your chest and racing away any tears that might have been ready to fall. "i'm not an item to check off of your to-do list, spencer."

"i can't do this right now," he sighs, turning away and pushing his hands through his hair one last time. he hesitates, back to you and head hung low, before adjusting his watch and walking away.

stunned, you listen as your front door opens and then clicks shut. you wait for him to come back, transform into your sweet boyfriend who would do anything to make sure you're happy. the doting man who spent his time memorizing everything about you so every date would be perfect, who always made time for you despite his job, who made you feel heard and important.

but you stand there, alone, for several minutes without any sign of him. mind racing, you fight the urge to cry.

damn wtf i made myself sad. sorry! hope u enjoyed :)

#spencer reid x reader #spencer x reader #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds #spencer reid #angst

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v1x-x1 · 2 months ago

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✧𝐃𝐚𝐲 𝟕: 𝐓𝐨𝐲𝐬 - 𝐀𝐥𝐛𝐞𝐝𝐨✧

✧|| 𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐭𝐨𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟒 | 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 ✧ 𝐚𝐨𝟑 ||

✧|| 𝐟𝐞𝐦 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 | 𝐛𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐟𝐨𝐥𝐝 | 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐛𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐡𝐞𝐝 𝐫𝐞𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐩 ||

“Do you understand, my Star?”

You had just listened to Albedo explain his new experiment, though you weren’t entirely sure what it actually included. He was being very brief and vague about it.

You simply nod, surely it can’t be anything bad, of course not, it’s Albedo. It was a simple experiment with some new equipment he had recently gotten his hands on.

He took you further into his lab and instructed you to sit down on the chair that was placed near the back of the room.

“You don’t mind if I blindfold you, do you, my Star?”

You shook your head. You trusted Albedo with your being, and being deprived of one of your senses shouldn’t be too much of an issue.

He then came back with a blindfold and a collar that remained in his hand even after he blocked your vision.

“Let me know if it’s too tight.” He was now placing the collar on your neck. You heard something click but nothing happened.

You couldn’t exactly hear what Albedo was muttering under his breath, but it seemed to be about something being on?

“Stand up.”

You stood up, immediately. Almost too quickly. You barely even had a chance to process his words before you were doing it.

“Take your top off.”

Under normal circumstances, you would have hesitated, or taken a second to calm down from your slightly flustered state. But not this time, this time you simply followed his instruction even though you still felt a little embarrassed.

What was making you like this?

“Take all your clothes off.”

And you did.

Was it the collar? It must have been, is this what he meant when he wanted to test out his new equipment? Oh Archons…

A low chuckle could be heard from his direction. Oh you just knew he was smirking - even though it was a rare sight of his face, you hated (loved) it every time, and this time you didn’t even get to see it.

“Get on all fours.”

And once again, you did. Archons, you hated this… You try to open your mouth to see if you can speak, and you could, but you barely got through the first word before you felt a painful shock go through your body.

“Oh, my Star, you can’t speak without permission.” You would say there was a hint of smugness in his words, but it was more or less smugness with a sprinkle of words.

You could hear his steps approaching you, “Sit down and spread your legs.”

Fuck this was so embarrassing but you didn’t hesitate.

This was when he kneeled down and his gloved hand trailed from your knee, down the inside of your thighs until it circled your hole before pressing something inside it; a small gasp escaped you which then activated the shock once again.

Whatever was inside you wasn’t too big, it felt like it fit you perfectly in all forms.

This was when you heard another click, and this time you instantly felt the result of it.

The object inside you started to vibrate and move in and out of you, but you could tell it wasn’t Albedo moving it, no, it must have somehow been made to do it itself.

You let out a moan, activating the shock. Does this have to happen every time!?

“Oh, my Star…” His voice was as gentle as ever, the monotone sound of his voice frustrated you more than anything right now. How can one act this way in a situation like this? “You have to stay quiet. Though it is quite tempting to want to hear your beautiful noises.”

You tried to hold back all the noises that were urging to come out. Even as the intensity of the object increased, you still managed - somehow - to stay silent.

It seemed that your silence was more of a challenge for Albedo though, because he soon verbally allowed you to make as many noises as you needed.

It was a relief not having to try to hold back, you could freely moan and pant without the fear of feeling the pain of the shocks.

You felt like you were going to die, the object made you feel so good and hot on the inside. You would say it’s like something you’ve never felt before - which wouldn't be a lie - but the only thing that made this sensation even compare to something you’ve had with Albedo in the past is your feeble attempt to imagine it was Albedo moving in and out of you. That it was Albedo putting pressure on your neck. Yet, your lips still trembled with pleasure.

“You’re not allowed to come.”

You knew it.

You fucking knew it.

Fuck. You don’t know how much longer you could hold it in for, it was getting more difficult with the second.

It definitely didn’t help when Albedo once again kneeled in front of you and started rubbing your clit. The sudden feeling causing you to shudder. Since you couldn’t see anything, you felt like all your other senses had become stronger, which you wouldn’t have minded if it wasn’t for the stupid punishment you’d have to go through if you disobeyed his orders.

He didn’t stop, instead he decided rubbing faster would be a good idea, along with the object continuing to move in and out, and so fucking deep, you can’t fucking think.

“I c-can’t-”

You didn’t get shocked, clearly because the noises of pleading were truly needed.

This made you feel more pathetic, but is that not what you were right now? Being fucked by a stupid inanimate object and touched by Albedo in such a heavenly way you genuinely feel like you’ll go insane if your not allowed to reach your high right now.

“Yes you can.” His words were blunt, and other than coming, you wanted nothing more than to slap his face right now.

He continued teasing your clit, the object now only moving in the deeper parts of your body. Your gasps and moans were stuttered, you couldn’t even let a damn noise of pleasure out coherently.

“I will allow you to come on three, yes?”

The words felt like your saviour in this very moment.

The object seemed to be moving further up - you didn’t even think it was possible.

“One…”

He moves his hand away.

“Two…”

He turns up the intensity of the toy, making you shiver and it almost pushes you over the edge, but you knew better than to disobey.

He chuckled.

Fucking say three already.

“Three.”

You came undone, the object that was in you seemed to have disappeared almost immediately, but not out of you. It disintegrated and created a whole new wave of pleasure that made your entire body shake and strained your vocals with how loudly you moaned.

While you were still on your high, Albedo took off the blindfold, “Look at me.”

And you did.

“Thank you, my Star.”

Taglist: @lov3-ly @velvetyshu @coffeeisbehindyou @sanestventisimp @bokukenmakuroo

lmk if you wanted to be added or removed!!

#albedo x reader #albedo smut #genshin x reader #genshin smut #genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #kinktober 2024

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bodyswapmischief · 23 days ago

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Fractured Wishes: Bonded Minds

Every day that passes, I feel myself slipping away. I am more than myself now—I have to be. I need to be them and me, to somehow make us whole. But where do I end, and where do they begin? It was all so clear at the start of this, but now the line blurs a little more every day. Was I ever really me? Or am I one of them, trying to lead myself toward a better life? I regret not realizing what I had... because now, it’s all I have. I messed up. I owe them everything. I owe them this life.

My name was—and sometimes still is—Henry. And, honestly, I hated my friends. We were those friends from childhood, the kind you feel obligated to keep around. By high school, we mostly hung out outside of school. Maybe it was because we all lived on the same block our whole lives. But high school tested the limits of our friendship.

We were close, especially in elementary and middle school. But by high school, we’d all changed. Puberty blessed Michael; he grew tall and strong. It was no surprise he became a jock, balancing parties, sports, and schoolwork with ease. He wasn’t a typical meathead either. He’d always try to get Nathan and me to come to those parties with him.

I understood Nathan. But me... Nathan didn’t have Michael’s build, but he was ridiculously attractive. His family life was tough, so he had that bad-boy edge—the leather jacket, the mystery, the kind of “I could fix him” vibe every girl seemed drawn to. While Michael hung out with the golden kids, Nathan fell in with the party crowd. He drank and hooked up before any of us. He had this charisma.

So yeah, I get why Nathan and Michael were friends. But me? I was the weak, scrawny nerd. I tried a few parties but always ended up getting bullied. Then Nathan would get mad at Michael, and Michael would say he’d take care of it. The next day, I’d see some jock with a black eye. But really, it was obvious I didn’t belong with them. No matter how much they tried, it just never ended well for me.

And it wasn’t just the parties. They tried to associate with me at school, too. Why couldn’t they see it was only going to cause problems? Being nice to me just put a spotlight on me. Couldn’t they see it would’ve been better if we kept clear boundaries? At school, we were all different people. But back home, on our street, we could be friends—just like the old days, playing video games together. Though, with schoolwork and activities, even those hangouts became less and less frequent.

People always say college is different, that once you leave high school, everything changes, that it gets better. But when the time came to apply to college, to finally be free, they still had their claws in me. Sitting at the lunch table, they suggested we all choose the same school. I felt my heart sink. Why would they do this to me? Why couldn’t they see I didn’t belong with them? I couldn’t say no, but I threw out my safety school. I was counting on getting accepted somewhere else, somewhere I knew they wouldn’t apply. But fate is cruel—the only acceptance letter I got was from my safety school. And just like that, I was trapped with them, even in college.

That’s when I knew. They didn’t like me. Their kindness was just a cover for their true cruelty. They hated me—they knew they were better than me and enjoyed keeping me around as the weak friend, someone to make them look good. But I was too weak to confront them, so I played my role. They’d invite me out, and it made me sick. How could two people be so cruel, to keep someone around just to make them feel inferior? I couldn’t face their malice head-on. But I could say no. And that’s exactly what I did—I started turning down their invitations. I spent more time in my dorm. Making new friends felt pointless; it would just end up the same way.

And then it happened. Mr. Cool Guy and Mr. Popular were supposed to leave me alone. It was the big party weekend to celebrate the end of mid-term. I’d already said no; I wasn’t going with them. I was ready to relax, spend the night by myself, and enjoy some movies and TV. But then there was a knock on my door. Nathan and Michael were standing there with pizza, movies, and games. I was furious. How could they do this? They told me they’d been worried about me, that I’d been distant. Parties could wait, they said. They realized they’d been trying to make me join in on their kind of fun and thought maybe they should try mine instead. Those idiots, I thought. Couldn’t they see—I didn’t even like them! But I let them in, and we started hanging out.

Their attempts at having a good time ... I snapped. I saw the truth and exploded on them. I confronted them, and they acted confused, mad, and sad that I felt the way I did. They tried to explain, insisting they truly saw me as a friend. Nathan wished I could understand that they had always considered me one. Michael said he’d always hoped we’d stay in each other’s lives. I couldn’t take their lies anymore. In that moment, I wished they’d both just drop dead.

A wave of energy ripped through the air, and the power went out. I heard two bodies hit the floor. With a flicker, the lights came back on—and there lay Nathan and Michael.

I rushed to Michael and placed my hand on his chest, feeling his heartbeat beneath my palm. I quickly moved to Nathan, doing the same, and I could sense his heartbeat as well. I had no idea what had happened to them, but I cursed the fact that it had to occur in my dorm. They were alive, at least, but I needed them awake and out of my life. Grabbing Michael’s hand, the world around me spun. When it finally stopped, I felt heavy yet powerful, as if the world had shrunk around me. Looking down, I saw my unconscious body on the floor, and in shock, I jumped back.

I kneeled down and felt my heart. It was still beating. And, then I grabbed my hand. The words spun, and I was back in my body. I did the same with Nathan. Touching his exposed flesh, I was wisked into his body. I ran to the mirror and checked myself out. I couldn't believe it. I could have some fun while they were passed out. I could finally see what it would be like to be them. I could see why they felt the need to keep me around and torment me.

I slipped back into Michael's form and grabbed a blanket. Carefully wrapping the other two bodies, I placed one on the bed and the other on the couch, amazed at how easily I could carry them. My muscles flexed with each effortless movement, and I marveled at the strength I now possessed. As I took in this new body, I couldn’t ignore the raw sensations it brought with it. Curious to explore every part of it, I undressed and allowed myself a moment of self-discovery. I rubbed my hands down my current muscular frame. I felt the strength of this body with every involuntary flex caused my desperate desire. Each touch and movement felt both familiar and entirely new, heightening my awareness of this powerful, muscular form in a way that was deeply exhilarating. And, finally I wrapped my hands around my new raging cock.

As I finished palying with Michael's body, I couldn’t help but smile. I'd always been a bit jealous of him, and now, here I was, being him. I walked back into the room and looked at the other two bodies, wondering how long they'd remain unconscious. If they woke up, would we all be stuck in our new bodies? Based on who I was when I touched each of them, Nathan would likely be in my body, and Michael would now be Nathan. I could already imagine how mad Nathan would be with this arrangement.

I didn’t care because they both deserved to experience what it was like to be me after the way they'd treated me. The night was young, and there was a party to go to, a party where, for once, I’d finally fit in, not be the odd one out. I wouldn’t be the outsider that Michael and Nathan invited just for everyone to laugh at.

As those thoughts filled my mind, a memory surfaced: "Damn, man, that sounds good. I’ll bring some pizza and a few of my games. I’m worried about the guy, too. I think he misses home... maybe we can make it feel a bit more like home with one of our classic game nights. You’re right. There’ll always be other parties, but we’ve gotta help our bro out." This was Michael’s memory. Why did he say this to Nathan when I wasn’t around? Why did he sound like he actually cared?

Another memory played, "Hey Chad! What the hell? Why were you picking on Henry? Yeah, I’d rather sit with the “nerd” than with you guys at lunch… because he’s my friend. And who cares about high school reputation? I’ve got enough to go around because I’m a decent person. But if you mess with him again, you’ll see how “bad” I can get."

The first time Michael stood up for me... followed by a montage of others he’d defended me against, without me ever knowing. My heart sank. All this time… could it be? Maybe Michael really felt that way, but Nathan? I needed to know. I rushed back to my own body, touching my hand. Michael’s body slumped onto the bed as I shot up in my own form and hurried over to Nathan. I sat on the couch and touched his hand. Now, I was Nathan, and I had to know the truth.

I wasn't sure how easy it would be to summon these memories. With Michael, it just happened. But, I used every ounce of concentration i could muster, and the memories came. "Hey, I don't think we should go to the party tonight. Henry hasn't been doing well. You know how he is. He isn't gonna ask for help. We just gotta be there for him. Like we always have been." This memory was followed by a montage of all the times he would invite me to hang with him. A feeling that even if my ... his family life was falling apart he could hold on to his friends. The inspiration he got from me to still try in school. How he owed his passion to getting into college to me.

I felt a wave of nausea. All the terrible things I'd assumed about them were wrong. I returned to touch my original body, and Nathan's fell unconscious. Standing in the room, I looked down at my two friends, both still warm and breathing. I called out to them, but there was no response, no hint of waking. I threw a pillow and shook the bed and the couch, but nothing. I knew if I touched them, I’d risk swapping bodies again. Seconds stretched into minutes, then hours. They never woke up. Morning came, but they remained motionless.

I paced around the room. They were alive, but if they didn’t wake up, they’d eventually die. They needed to eat and drink, at the very least. And they each had lives, school, family, and other responsibilities. With a wave of guilt, I grabbed Michael’s hand and swapped into his body. Focusing, I saw his usual morning routine, his plans for the day. I prepared breakfast and ate for him. Then, I went to Nathan, swapping into his body to do the same. Thankfully, his breakfast was simple; he wasn’t as much of a health nut as Michael. I ate and thought through his tasks. There had to be a way to wake them. Until I could find it, or they managed to fight back into consciousness, I’d have to live for all three of us.

I started to plan how I’d manage everything the three of us needed to do. And it worked, I bounced between our bodies, keeping up with all the homework and classwork, making sure we ate and stayed clean. Being in their bodies was strange; I’d always found them both attractive. But guilt weighed on me, knowing I’d put them in this situation. It kept me from fully enjoying the experience. Still, I was in the bodies of three young men, full of energy and hormones, so, naturally, I had to take care of that too.

But I could only handle the basics for so long. Each of them had social lives to keep up with. Michael had practices; I managed to call him out sick for a week, but he needed that scholarship money. And then there was Nathan, with his friends constantly hitting him up, suspicious that I kept turning down plans. The only thing working in my favor was that I, my real self, didn’t have much of a life. Even so, I could see how my own few overlapping events would soon complicate everything.

I couldn’t do this alone. But I was. I needed to be more than just one of us at a time. The next morning, I woke up in my own body, grabbed both of Michael’s hands, and didn’t let go. I felt my soul bouncing between both bodies, the world spinning around me, but I held on until I couldn’t handle it any longer. I collapsed to the floor.

When I opened my eyes, I saw two views at once. The disorientation was overwhelming, an intense vertigo like I’d never felt. I began to gag as I sat up, seeing Michael’s body do the same through my eyes—and my own body doing it through Michael’s. I was in both bodies simultaneously, and each movement mirrored in both. Stumbling to the bathroom, I managed to get both bodies leaning over the bathtub as the nausea hit hard.

It took hours to leave the restroom, as every slight head turn made both bodies feel nauseous. Eventually, in both bodies, I stumbled as I guided us onto the bed. The world was still spinning, and all I could do was try to sleep, hoping it would get better.

More time passed, and I woke up again. Both bodies looked up, still feeling the vertigo—though it was now slightly more manageable. I sat up, glancing at both my bodies, each face reflecting a mix of confusion and astonishment. I reached out to touch Michael's face with one hand, and from Michael’s perspective, he was doing the same to my face. It was surreal, feeling the sensation of both our hands touching both our faces.

I began to move both bodies' hands, exploring further, curiosity getting the better of me, I grabbed both cocks. I felt this strange urge as both bodies reacted, becoming aroused. Suddenly, guilt washed over me, and I released my grip, quickly getting out of bed. This situation wasn’t as useful as I had hoped. Moving two bodies in perfect mirror of each other felt more like a hindrance than a help.

I thought it might be better if we were at least facing the same direction instead of each other. Standing face to face, I focused on Michael's body, trying to will it to turn around while keeping my own body facing forward. With some concentration, it worked. Now, instead of mirroring each other, both bodies were moving in unison.

I moved both bodies to the kitchen, but thinking about maneuvering two bodies was a bit complicated. I bumped into things and felt the pain of both bodies, though it was becoming easier. Another issue arose while I was cooking breakfast; one body was doing all the work while the other simply mimicked, holding imaginary objects. It felt like a waste of energy.

I began to wonder if there was a way to be in just one body again. I tried to touch Michael's body as his hand reached out to the other side of him, but it didn’t work. Then I concentrated on being in my own body, and I could feel a pericng sensation in my brain. I was seeing through one set of eyes and looked at Michael's body. He was still conscious, moving around and cooking. My heart jumped, I had done it; I had brought him back. But when I called out to him and tried to talk, he didn’t respond. I saw a blank look on his face as he moved on autopilot, focused on the last task I had been doing in his body.

I concentrated again, focusing on being Michael, and I felt my soul jump. I stopped mid-action while cracking eggs and looked at my original body just staring back at me. I began to think of a complicated list of tasks and then jumped out of Michael's body and into my own. From my own body, I watched Michael work. He cooked breakfast, cleaned up the mess, and served it. He started eating, and when he was done, he sat still. He had completed everything I had planned in his mind before I jumped out.

Finally, I thought to myself, this could work. I swapped back into Michael's body with just pure thought and began testing the distance. I moved farther away and left the dorm, and it seemed I could swap from any distance. Not only that, but the swaps were becoming easier, almost second nature. I started leaving a thought of acting naturally, and I could swap back while both bodies were in mid action, as if they were operating on their own without me.

I returned to the dorm in Michael's body and saw my original body moving around, getting ready for one of my late classes. I jumped as it began talking to me like myself. It seemed the thoughts I was leaving behind after each jump were becoming more polished, allowing both bodies to act completely normal whether I was in one of them or not.

As my body left the dorm on its own, I concentrated again, focusing on being in both bodies. My vision split once more, allowing me to see the dorm through Michael's eyes as my original body walked to class. I could seamlessly jump between the two, maintaining concentration on both, with each body providing me with information about both surroundings.

I concentrated again and closed the channel, finding myself back in Michael's body. But I continued to test my abilities. Opening the channel again, I saw through both perspectives. Then, I jumped into my own body. I would spend the day practicing this skill set. I swapped between both bodies: my original body attended class while Michael enjoyed some downtime playing video games. I practiced seeing through both sets of eyes simultaneously, and it was becoming easier.

As my original body walked back to the dorm from class, I felt incredible. I was two people at once. But then panic set in as I remembered Nathan. Both bodies turned to each other and said his name. Michael got up from the couch, and my original body dropped his backpack. We both rushed to Nathan, who was passed out on the bed. I had ignored him all day.

I made both bodies grab his hand, forming a chain between us. I could feel my soul jumping again. Nathan hadn’t been connected to us yet, so I held on until I couldn’t. Finally, he shot awake. I saw through his eyes as well as my own and Michael's. The vertigo didn’t bother me; I had become accustomed to seeing from multiple perspectives. Adjusting Nathan was easier thanks to all the practice I had.

Now, all three bodies moved independently. I could jump between them at will and focus on controlling all three simultaneously. I had essentially created a hive mind. I was myself, I was them, I was us. Every movement and action was coordinated through my connection to their memories, each of our experiences influencing the others. We were all learning from one another, our identities blending together. I made sure to preserve the essence of who they were at the core of their personalities, but it was challenging to distinguish where I began, and they ended—and vice versa. It was no longer useful to think of us as individuals; we were one. One personality split into three.

As Nathan, I learned to cut the toxic people out of his life and heal the pain of his broken family. I guided him away from a troubled path. As Michael, I became more than just brawn. He was always intelligent, but now I allowed that aspect of him to shine. I focused on sports while ensuring he had a backup plan in case that didn't work out. My original body, along with Nathan's, has benefited from gym tips, while my body and Michael's have embraced confidence and relationship advice. However, when you control three bodies, sometimes love can wait, as I've been enjoying what these three bodies experience together when I'm feeling the urge. I don't know if there’s a way to undo what I’ve done, but until an answer comes, I'm going to live for all of us.

#male body tf #body #swap #transformation #tf #male #mischief #stories #male body swap #male transformation #malebodyswapmischief #male possession #possession #hive mind

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pressureplus · 3 months ago

Note

Hihii! Hope your all doing well

Could you please do human Sebastian Headcannons where it’s his or our birthday and writhed we get him something or we get him something?? My birthday was yesterday n I think this’ll be cute <3

Remember to take breaks <3

-💫

Hi! We're doing good, thank you for asking ❤️ (We get our breaks by taking turns making stuff, so don't worry too much about that)

It's a day late, but happy birthday, Anon! I hope it was a good one!

Birthday Wishes

Pairings: Sebastian Solace x GN!Reader

Au: Classic

Warnings: N/A

◞꒷◟ ͜ ͜ ◞ྀི◟୨୧◞ྀི◟ ͜ ͜ ◞꒷◟◞꒷◟ ͜ ͜ ◞ྀི◟୨୧◞ྀི◟ ͜ ͜ ◞꒷◟

Everything has to be perfect. As perfect as it can possibly be from a place like this.

He's made sure to send Y/N out on a supply run he's hoping is going to take quite a while, needing some extra time to prepare for something he's making out to be a big event.

As much as he hates sending his dumb little diver anywhere without either going with them or watching them, he's taken a great deal of caution in getting them supplied and assuring the halls were not active today... Sebastian has well enough ferryman tokens in stock to bribe and barter with should anything happen, worse case scenario.

Shaking his head, he attempts to get rid of those paranoid tendencies so he can finish hanging up the streamers. The bastard fish had been awfully mean to Y/N this morning trying to throw them off so they wouldn't catch any hints for the surprises he's planned. The experiment still is not the best with putting that guard down that's been built up so he can live down here, but he's been trying. Y/N has made him really want to try.

Part of him is still nervous about this, scared that once they get this gift and use it that they'll figure out that they don't want him. He's scared that they'll settle on the thought that they only wanted his company out of desperation, lingering on the idea a bit too long and decide to go find someone else. The anxiety has left his hands shaking a good portion of the morning.

But he has to trust them. They've earned that a few hundred times over for being patient with him for so long.

Sebastian has been preparing for this day for years, and in truth this was for himself at first. This was supposed to be for him. He worked for it, scavenged for it, fought, killed, and lived for it. He's been running this shop for so long it's all he knows anymore and it was always for this.

It wasn't until Y/N came along it stopped being for him and started being for the both of them.

There's even a cake, and though he's still a bit concerned they're not going to like his less than stellar icing designs, he knows it's your favorite flavor so he's sure you won't hate it.

When he decides he's made it up nice enough and that he's brave enough to greet you, he makes his way back to his shop and sits waiting, trying not to mull over his choices, hoping that it will go well.

It doesn't take long, maybe another half hour at most, for his favorite person to stroll back in.

"Sebby! I'm home!" Y/N greets him first, going to set the small crate of goods down near the doorway.

"Took you long enough. Hard run?" He teases, reaching one of those big clawed hands down to ruffle their hair. Smile a little wider and eyes a little brighter, he can't deny he's excited.

"No! It was actually super easy! I didn't find even an ounce of data, though..." Seeming disappointed, they almost go to sulk before he catches them.

"No, no, I have made well enough for the week." He reaches under the desk and pulls out a messily wrapped box.

"Plus, it's your birthday, isn't it?" Sebastian grins.

It takes Y/N a long beat of silence to perk up, eyes sparkling under the outdated LEDs.

"It is! You remembered my birthday?" They snatch the present up and instinctually shake it.

"Ah, don't get too happy about it, I saw it on the calendar." The fishy man tries to play it off for longer, really dragging it out.

"I'd say happy birthday, but could it really be happy in the Blacksite?" He pokes, the snide jab not seeming to bring Y/N down at all.

"It is with you!" They give him a beaming grin and start to open their box.

Nearly choking, Sebastian feels his face heat up a bit and his heart stops in his chest. How is he not supposed to treasure his Y/N? How could anyone think they were anything less than amazing?

"Well, it is a special day nonetheless. You only get this old once." He adjusts his comment to match their mood, still reminding himself to soften up for them.

He's decorated it in their favorite colors, colorful streamers matching all the little things that's going to make it feel like a home.

"You got me a plushy?! Where'd you find one!?" Y/N tugs the stuffed toy out of the box and squeezes it, very clearly resembling their favorite mythical creature.

"Would you believe it was luck?" He chuckles, lying to them point blank. He'd made it by hand, but doesn't want the tears or teasing from you that would come with admitting that.

"Thank you so much, Sebastian! You're the best!" Y/N only continues to shine in the dimly lit shop.

"I've got something else for you. It's in the back." He places a hand on their waist to usher the former prisoner along towards the grand finale.

"Is it really gonna beat the plushie?" They joke and he snickers.

"I'd certainly hope so, it's your party." He uses another of his massive hands to cover your eyes and lead you out past the room, guiding your step up on a completely unfamiliar stair.

"Woah, is this a new room?" Y/N looks confused.

"Yep. It's your room now. We're still going to be sharing, but it's brand new." He hesitates for another few seconds.

Closing his own eyes, he tries to stay calm. Ripping that metaphorical bandaid off, his hands come away from them to let Y/N look around.

And Y/N finds themself in a submarine.

"You... Your deal went through. . ." They look around at the painstaking way he's furnished and decorated it.

"Yep. I got us a way out." He closes the door behind him and Y/N whips around to look at him.

"We're leaving!? WE'RE LEAVING TODAY?!" They look shaken, but more excited than he thinks he's ever seen before in his life.

The fear melts away watching the way they go and cheer, tossing their new plush onto the bed at the back of the vessel and laughing, already chattering about showing him the places they wanna go. If nothing he does ever goes right again his whole life, he's done good doing this.

Sebastian pulls another mischievous look and holds out the keys, barely catching their severely divided attention with the shiny new keyring.

"Happy Birthday, Y/N."

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madlori · 6 months ago

Text

there are a lot of headcanons about tommy becoming resentful of the time buck spends with eddie, but give me the reverse. give me eddie resentful of the time buck spends with tommy.

eddie's alone and sad with chris gone. both buck and tommy, together and individually, try to do things with him and be there for him but sometimes they actually do want to be alone together, and eddie just...can't seem to stop getting in the way. he invites himself along to stuff. he asks if he can come hang out when they're having a night at home together. he takes up their free evenings with obsessively making plans so he can avoid being alone in his house and they're just starting to get worn down.

eventually buck has to sit him down and say, eddie, my man, my dude, you're family to me, i care about you so much, so does tommy, but for the love of all that's holy please understand that sometimes i need to be alone with my boyfriend.

and eddie is embarrassed that he's been so clingy but also low-key hates that they have this relationship with each other that doesn't include him. he's happy that buck's found the love he always yearned for and deserved, but he can't stop feeling hurt and left out and there's just no way to make it better.

so what does he do? does he stay resentful and let it fester until it becomes anger and it ruins his friendship with buck?

maybe at one point he would have done that. but this time...this time he recognizes the path he's on and decides to take action to not let that happen. buck is too important to him. he has to find a way to occupy himself without relying soley on buck.

so he joins a boxing gym that nobody else goes to and starts working out there. he makes a friend who's also dealing with loneliness.

he starts volunteering on off-shift mornings at a botanical garden and finds that digging in the dirt and getting sweaty and dirty is very therapeutic. after a few weeks, some of the other volunteers invite him to come to brunch after their shift.

he discovers the LAFD Discord and that it has a whole bunch of sub-groups where first responders from all over the city get together for activities. he joins the golf group. he joins the cooking group. he goes on an axe-throwing outing.

he makes other friends.

there are no other friends like Buck. there will never be another friend like Buck. but there are people he can spend time with now, and give Buck a break so he can spend time with Tommy and also just have time to himself.

buck still brings dinner over once a week. he takes eddie on hikes. he and tommy fly him to san diego for the day and they go to the beach. but eddie also goes golfing with the LAFD Discord club. He goes to Station 133, which has the nicest kitchen in the LAFD, for the cooking club and learns some new recipes.

He has brunch with Chim and Maddie. He and Hen take Mara and Denny to mini-golf. He helps Bobby do DIY work on their new home to bring the kitchen up to his standards.

He learns to live without Chris. He learns to have support that doesn't entirely revolve around Buck. He watches Buck and Tommy get more and more serious, but now he's not resentful or scared - he's only happy, to see his best friend so happy. When they move in together, the three of them spend the first night Buck lives with Tommy eating pizza, drinking beer and watching baseball on TV.

And the first time Buck and Tommy ask him to come on a hike with them, and he has to decline because he has other plans, he's relieved, because they still want him around. They still want to be his friend. He hasn't worn them down.

He will always need Buck, he will alway love him. But he knew it wasn't fair to make Buck his entire support system...so he built a bigger one, and it's big enough to support them all.

When Chris facetimes him, he notices that his dad is looking less despondent. he has things to talk about, like the botanical garden and Bobby and Athena's new house and the firepit he's helping Buck build in Tommy's backyard. He's more open and honest. He doesn't sound so desperate. So Chris says he wants to come home, and when he does, Eddie's just happy he's back. Not desperate, not resentful or angry. And he has these new friends.

One of those new friends is another volunteer at the botanical gardens. she's a trauma nurse and does gardening to help her cope. eddie suggests she might like to try boxing as exercise, and she loves it. she is invited to a firefam BBQ at Buck and Tommy's house, and chris can't help but notice that she looks at his dad like he's really something -- and he's looking back the same way.

and if Chris had been worried that his time away would have hurt his dad, or made him sadder -- which he definitely didn't worry about, totally didn't, never at all -- he's not worried about that anymore.

#i made myself emotional about eddie #eddie diaz #bucktommy #platonic buddie #buddie friendship #9-1-1 spec #9-1-1 spoilers #evan buckley #tommy kinard #tevan #kinley

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rubra-wav · 9 months ago

Text

Taking care of the main cast while they're sick

Cw: SFW, gn!reader, platonic, very briefly suggestive in Angel's, in the order of who gets sick first - last

<< [ Part 1 ]

Charlie

- She's truly a wet cat when she gets sick.

- Will not stop crying and being emotional the whole time. She hates not being able to sing or go out and about.

- Is even more emotional when you volunteer to take care of her as you're no longer as likely to get sick again.

- She's so happy she's not gonna be all alone.

- She hates being locked away in her room and not being able to participate in group activities.

- Insists they still go on without her like she's about to die from not being able to be there with them.

- Charlie spends the whole time wrapped up in a blanket in bed and watching kids' movies. I hope you like Disney movies, because she won't put on anything else.

- Says they make her 'heart' feel not sickly like she is.

- You will be cuddling her because if not, she won't stop sobbing. Vaggie is keeping her distance from her because she doesn't want to get sick too.

- I hope you're also ready to get your ear talked off by a very passionate dreamer who's been under house lock for a week because oh boy.

- For the last few days, she's gonna be trying to leave her room or convince you to let her leave. She's going antsy and stir-crazy by the end of it.

- She's extremely clingy to you as you're essentially her caretaker for the week she's sick.

- Eventually Vaggie caves in to ger girlfriend, and takes over for you anyways. Then Vaggie catches it. 💀

- Apologetic afterwards to you.

Vaggie

- She's disappointed but not really surprised.

-Probably the best and most composed of all of them when she gets sick.

- She doesn't too much like being seen sick as it makes her feel vulnerable, but when you assure her you don't think any less of her she's a lot less stiff about you being there.

- She will just chill in her room the whole time, probably reading or writing notes to remind her to do stuff when she gets out.

- The whole time she just sighs, sounding extra irritated and absolutely done with life.

- She needs to sit in darkness most of the time because she keeps getting migraines.

- Will absolutely insist she can look after herself and that she doesn't need someone near her at all times like Charlie.

- Will accept you bringing her food, helping with her duties guarding, and bringing her reports about what's gone on around the hotel.

- Really appreciates the reports actually.

- By the end of it she's considering bringing you on to possibly permanently help her out because you absolutely would be helpful.

- Most of her socialisation energy is taken up by Charlie, so she's very likely just gonna wanna be left on her own through most of it.

Niffty

- Despite being told not to, Niffty goes into the room's of those who are sick to clean, and that's how she gets sick.

- An absolute fucking nightmare to look after. It's not just you, it's also Vaggie who needs to keep her at bay.

- She doesn't understand 'rest' and 'quarantine', those do not exist.

- There will have to be a 24/7 watch on her to keep her in her room because my God, she does not sleep and stays just as insane but becomes delirous.

- Will be there barely able to stand and still cleaning.

- You will literally have to pick her up and carry her kicking back to her room.

- The only way to get her to go sleep is to get her a tranquiliser.

- There's a greatly annoying back and forth between Alastor, you and Vaggie as Alastor has the tranquilliser she usually has but just refuses.

- Thank christ when Angel just goes 'fuck this' and gets another type like it to knock her out.

- After that it's better. Niffty becomes extremely clingy to you or Vaggie while she's sedated. Vaggie walks out after the solution is found, leaving you to take care of her on your own.

- So you just cuddle her while doing whatever you have brought to do in her room.

- Afterwards she's probably gonna be clinging to you extra. She's imprinted on you during this period low-key

- It's exhausting, and you don't succeed in stopping her from spreading germs (which is ironic considering she's supposedly the clean one)

- Pentious, Husk and Angel all get sick in quick succession after Niffty.

Pentious

- His 1800's ass is gonna be so dramatic.

- Not overdramatic, because he's scared for obvious and understandable reasons.

- But still dramatic.

- He's gonna be needing reassurance every three seconds on this, and even then, he's gonna be all weepy.

- Straight up thinks he's gonna die.

- "Bring me out to the garden one last time" type attitude.

- When it becomes clear he's not going to die in approximately 10 seconds, he calms down a bit, but he's still super anxious.

- Will absolutely want to cuddle you (along with his egg boys) while he's still super delirious.

- You gotta like tight hugs because when I say cuddle, I mean he will be full-body wrapping around you with his tail around your legs and arms around your shoulders.

- Denies it happening outright after his temperature comes down, though, and is super embarrassed.

- Cheers up at about the 4 day mark.

- Stays in his room with you and probably just discusses and brainstorms ideas for different kinds of weapons and machines.

- Tbh, after he's not contagious anymore and can leave again, he's probably gonna be jealous that you're no longer giving him as much attention as you were.

Angel

- Oh, he's so mad about it.

- He dodged getting sick off of you, Charlie and Vaggie only to get sick because Niffty refused to stay down.

- The whole time he's also really anxious because he's scared Val is gonna order him to come in while he's unwell and force him to still into the studio to do some weird sickness kink type shit.

- Luckily, Val doesn't reach out at all in the time he's sick.

- Him, Husk and you kinda just chill out together doing stuff like watching movies and talking shit.

- Vaggie orders them to stick together to avoid the chance of infecting anyone a second time, and the whole time you're near them, you need to wear a mask.

- Angel is not a clingy sick person. In fact, he doesn't wanna be cuddled at all (at least in the first few days)

- Doesn't like you seeing him sick because he thinks it's super gross.

- He's getting too hot and then too cold every 3 seconds and is super annoyed over it. Just keeps angrily putting on layers and then taking them off again.

- He doesn't like getting cuddled, but he does like you taking care of him and asking if he needs anything, and you reassuring him he'll get better soon.

- He so rarely gets taken care of in that way, so he absolutely eats it up.

- Probably takes to sarcastically calling you parental nicknames when you tell him he has to take meds/eat/drink whatever.

- He starts going absolutely stir crazy by the end of it as well, he hates being cooped up.

- Very appreciative when he's finally able to gtfo and do stuff again.

Husk

- He's by far the most pissed off about getting sick (that you're aware of at least)

- He kept trying to tell Niffty to go away and go to bed, but she just kept clinging to him.

- The whole time he's unwell, he has to suffer through Alastor laughing at him, which all makes it so much worse.

- Alastor just periodically shows up to bully him, and you need to call Vaggie to kick him out for you.

- Husk does not like you trying to take care of him, and will promptly tell you to fuck off with no hesitation if you start trying to caretake him outside of getting him food and stuff.

- He's also not happy because when he's really delirious, he is actually extremely affectionate.

- The whole time he's running a fever and especially sick, he will be trying to cling to anything around but especially you.

- Does the type of thing during that period that animals do when you stop petting them and they just. Start whining and looking at you pleadingly for more attention.

- He's horrendously embarrassed about it.

- He relaxes a bit when you promise him not to ever bring it up again, but he's still extremely grumpy.

- Especially because he lowkey blames you as you're the root of the sickness, even though you did everything right with isolating and trying to make sure nobody else caught what you had.

- His appreciation is fairly low in comparison to the others.

Alastor

- Sick? Take care of him?

- HA. Funny joke.

- He doesn't get sick.

- At least, that's what he says and is absolutely fucking horrified and furious when he actually does end up unwell.

- He tries to hide it behind him being 'busy' in his radio tower and 'to leave him alone to his devices'

- Will never ever admit he's sick, let alone allow you to truly take care of him. Even the thought fills him with such disgust that his smile almost wavers.

- You don't see or hear from him the whole time, but you can tell he's sick. Some kind of intuition.

- You just bring him stuff to eat, drink and take and leave it outside the door - hauling ass tf away as you knock on the door.

- He still knows you know and are bringing him stuff, and it pisses him off massively.

- He doesn't ever bring it up though afterwards, and if you do? You're gonna suffer ngl.

Masterlist

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meanbossart · 5 months ago

Note

Okay but I would love to hear your thoughts on the other spawn

Twirling my hair shifty-eyeing to the side OKAAAYYYYY WELL IF YOU INSIST 🛀

(This is a continuation of this post where I go into some detail about my thoughts on Dalyria, Violet, and Leon ((or "Leonard" as I apparently dubbed him as by mistake))

Let me start with the one I love the most after my sweet well-meaning-child-murdering-doctor Dalyria: Pale Petras.

First of all, just look at this fucking guy. What a goober.

I pretty explicitly go off-canon when it comes to my theories about Petras. According to him, he has been with Cazador for a hundred years - I find that very, very difficult to believe. Whether I would scrap that line entirely or just tack it as hyperbole is irrelevant - though he does seem to have a knack for the dramatics, or at least he tries to.

Petras immediately strikes me as a newcomer in the group. He's the most lively out of the spawn we chat with and seems to still retain what is a pretty strong, bold personality. He's antagonizing towards Astarion and pretty much sides with Cazador up until his life is on the line - and, most interestingly to me, his immediate reaction after being freed if you instruct them to lead the spawn into the Underdark seems to be one of fear and reluctance, unlike Dalyria who almost immediately takes the responsibility upon herself and seems warm towards Astarion and the player for what they've done.

Abusive relationships don't start abusive. If you've ever been friends with someone who's hooked up with a known serial abuser, chances are that you have had to sit through their attempts at justifying their behavior as foretold by previous partners - "oh, they just weren't a good match", "they both enabled abuse towards each other", "his ex was just crazy, man." This honeymoon period can last anywhere from a few weeks, to several years - until said friend inevitably finds themselves in the exact same cycle that said ex escaped from.

That's Petras. Petras is fresh meat. He's compliant. He's gullible. As a human in a world where you're surrounded by races that live up to several hundreds of years, he's attributed power to longevity - he loves being a spawn. He loves knowing that he will never lose his youthful looks and that his newly-acquired "curse" makes him desirable in it's own, odd way. He thinks this gig is easy - go out, get laid, get fed, rinse and repeat. Sure, sometimes there's a misunderstanding and he gets his joints broken or nails ripped out, but whatever! They grow back! To a vampire with powers of regeneration, dismemberment and scalping might as well be equivalent to ten belt-smacks to the backside just like his father used to give him as a child. Plus, it's never really his fault - If Master knew the truth, he would never set his goons on him at all!

And Oh, he adores Cazador. Not as a friend, a lover, or even a family member - but an aspiration. He sincerely believes that through hard work and resilience he can one day also have his status and fortune. And it shouldn't even be hard to stand out among this angsty little crew - what are they so bent out of shape about, anyway If they spent less time moping and more time working, maybe they wouldn't have such a tough time. Especially -

Astarion.

While it is likely incidental, I find it very ironic that Petras was put in Astarion's early-access outfit. And much less accidental than that: his mannerism and word-choice are a blatant imitation of Astarion's behavior. The flair, the flirting, the flattering and the abrasiveness; I've heard it theorized that this must be how all of the spawn act - I disagree. Petras is the only one we see exhibit that type of demeanor. I think he actively models himself after Astarion because as thick as he might be, he did catch onto the fact that his master has a particular interest in the white-haired elf.

And, of course, Petras hates Astarion for it. He sees him as someone who could have had it all, but gave up on it in favor of being bitter, angry, and naively wistful over his lost life. He has the looks, he has the charm, he had his master's favor, they go out and Petras watches men and women alike swoon over him and laugh at his shitty jokes, to then return home with a long-faced, bratty little shit-head of a toddler-man who would never even understand what the paralyzing loom of mortality is like in the first place - an ungrateful, nepotistic bastard whose had it all handed over to him by daddy, who was loved and fed and given a well-paid job fresh off his teens - but now he has to put a little work in. Now he has to do things that he might find unpleasant. And all he fucking does is whine about it.

Astarion is the personification of everything Petras ever wanted to be before being turned into a spawn, and he accidentally wears it on his sleeve day in and day out. I have no doubt that Astarion is blatantly aware of that fact and it makes his skin crawl - but Dalyria tells him that Petras is too young. Too new. Cut him some slack.

And frankly, I don't think he's evil, either. He strikes me as naive and star-striken. I don't know how long he's been with the Szarrs for, but certainly the light in his eyes would eventually fade over time and he would have had all the zest beaten out of him, same as the others. But, for now - he just doesn't know his own luck.

Admittedly, I have much less to say about Yousen and Aurelia. We don't hear as much as a word out of Yousen, but I've chosen to read the silence of and about his character as indicative that, maybe, he was able to hold onto his sanity and honor the best out of all of them. He had to do what he had to do to survive, but he did it while attempting to withhold any standards allowed to him for his own peace of mind - I like to imagine he had a lot of sincere empathy for all of the spawn, and, while they were never close, him and Astarion exchanged sincere words about their situation a few times during their stay at the palace; just enough to remind the elf that he wasn't alone, but never so much that Yousen would intrude into his space, or add strain to his already fragile state of mind.

And Aurelia... She strikes me as so young and already so beaten. I'd wager that what was once a sweet tiefling girl is now a terrified animal who does absolutely whatever she can to avoid pain and punishment - the snitch of the group, the reluctant ass-kisser, the one who desperately clings to any relief in whatever form it may come - be her master's approval or the shoulder of a sibling she has damned to the kennel more than once out of fear for her own life. Everybody has been hurt, betrayed, and irritated by her - but she's just so god damn pitiful that they can't push her away forever. While she would live, I believe she would have the hardest time adapting to freedom after Violet - just completely dependent on others and burdened by what she's had to do.

#ask #the spawn #pale petras #bg3 spoilers

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caesium-55 · 7 months ago

Text

—everything is orange. [ iv ]

pairing: lando norris x kpop idol! reader

summary: a racecar driver who needed a fake girlfriend to dispel rumors and a kpop idol who needed publicity for her song. somewhere in between orange cars and orange sunsets, stands something they're afraid of naming.

note: omg im so sorry for not being online lately. i got a writing part time job now so... i may not be as active as before. hope yall are having a great day! not edited. not beta read.

masterlist.

Everything inside your studio is gray. The walls, the couch, the floor, the instruments. It's the kind of room that will make a sad beige mom over the moon.

But when you open the door and the sight of one Lando Norris greets you, looking devilishly handsome in his dark blue button up shirt and black pants and Nike sneakers with his curls concealed underneath his dark blue bucket hat, the studio suddenly doesn't feel as gray as it usually is.

“Lando?” Your brows rise towards your hairline. Truthfully, he’s one of the last people you expected to see inside HAN Ent’s building, much less outside your studio.

“Hi,” he smiles charmingly at the shock in your voice, showing all teeth and smile lines. “Do you mind if I come in?”

You stammer, still not over your shock, “S-Sure.”

You step aside to grant him space and allow him to enter your magic shop. Lando’s eyes curiously roam around the studio and you close the door behind him, nudging the houseplant further to the wall using your foot to avoid getting tripped on it in the future.

“Take a seat. Please,” you invite, gesturing towards the couch. Lando takes the invitation and sits down. He looks too big on the couch, you note. He has long legs and an athletic build. Perhaps, it’s time to buy a bigger one.

“Nice place,” he compliments.

You want to snort out loud but refrain yourself from doing so.

Lando is saying things out of politeness.

Your studio is shit.

You know that.

It used to be a stock room that was converted into a studio when Yoon PD-nim offered you that deal, that's why the room is graciously small. They soundproofed the walls, painted everything gray, shoved in a few pieces of recording equipment and called it a day.

It's still quite nice of Lando to compliment the place though. You might hate this place but this is your wizard’s tower, your witch’s hut, your magic shop, and you feel pride swell in your chest when someone thinks your little corner is cool, even if you think he’s lying.

“Thanks,” you say sincerely. “How did you know I was…”

“I asked Jinnie,” he says simply.

“Ah,” your tone falls flat.

A moment's pause.

“So this is where you’ve been working?”

You nod. Suddenly, you feel conscious.

Your studio isn't really in the best state right now. When you work in a creative fever, you tend to make a mess. Being messy enhances your creativity. The sprawled papers with lyrics, the empty styro cups of coffee lying around, numerous pens and pencils (you don't even know why you feel the need to bring a lot of them) and rubber erasers, and your snacks. There's a mountain of crumpled paper in your trash can.

“Sorry, the place isn't really….” you trail off, making vague gestures with your hand. “I didn't know you were coming.”

“It's okay,” he chuckles. “I called, you know. And texted. You didn’t return any of it.”

“Oh, my phone’s charging,” you say, beginning to feel bad that you accidentally ignored him. “And my notifs are silent.”

“That explains it.”

“Shouldn't you be resting?” you asked. “You have a flight tomorrow.”

It's currently the 19th. Lando is set to leave for Japan on the 20th. His team wants him in Suzuka by September 20 and not later than that. They already had a field day when Lando announced that he's flying with you. At first, he wanted it to be just you and him. His team wouldn't let him because he can be a PR nightmare if given enough freedom so they let his manager, Kyla, tag along.

You’ve mistaken Kyla as a member of the PR team. Turns out she’s his manager.

“Is it a sin to want to spend a few hours with my girlfriend before I go?” he flutters his eyes innocently. You snorted.

“Fake but okay.”

“I’m being sincere here, girlfriend,” he pushes his lips into a pout. “Did you eat already?”

“No,” you answer.

“Should we grab something together?”

“Should we?” you humor his suggestion. It's been a few hours since you’ve eaten. You’ve skipped both breakfast and lunch.

“I think I can call a restaurant and make a reservation.”

“It's near midnight,” you point out, glancing down at the Rolex decorating his wrist. Isn't he aware of how late it is?

“So?”

“Restaurants are closed by now,” you state.

Lando shrugs.

“I can make the effort of finding those seafood pasta you like.”

Your brows furrow.

“What do you mean like? I never said I like those.”

“But I thought…” Lando blinks. “I’ve read it somewhere…”

“Huh?”

“You're from Jeju, right? You grew up eating seafood so you like seafood and you once said you have a palate for Italian food. I tried…liking the pasta with seafood. I hated it but I ate it anyway.”

Your jaw hangs open at the revelation.

This is single-handedly the sweetest thing someone has ever done to you.

You don't know whether to be touched about the sincerity or to cry because of his idiocy. You can definitely do both but you refuse to do both. You have an image to maintain.

“Didn't I tell you that the company manipulated my public information?” you ask incredulously. “Yes, I was from Jeju but I didn’t eat seafood much. I have a mild allergy—”

“In seafood?” you see his eyes widen into saucers. Oops, you shouldn't have said that. “Wait, you had an allergy attack, didn't you? On those lunch dates we had? Why didn't you tell me so early on?”

“I thought you liked it!” your voice raises slightly, panicked. You're caught. He isn't supposed to know about this.

“I didn't?! I loathe seafood but I ate a few bites because I thought you liked it!”

You blink at him. That is the sweetest while simultaneously the most stupid thing someone has ever done for you. You drag a hand across your face, a groan escaping your mouth and yet you’re smiling. You shake your head at him.

Points for Lando Norris for making you capable of feeling frustrated and another feeling you cannot name.

“We’re idiots.”

There is a stretch of silence before Lando speaks up.

“What do you want to eat? And please tell me the real one.”

You began listing the first three things that appeared inside your brain, “I like…. ramyeon, natto, and tteokbokki.”

You have a palate for convenience store food. Food that you can find in busy night markets. Food that is sold by street vendors. The kind of food that tastes like absolute shit if cold but tastes like home if microwaved into the right amount of temperature. If you venture in your imagination hard enough, you can taste your mother’s cooking after a few bites. But you don't tell Lando that.

“We can eat that.”

You raise a brow.

“The ramen, the chicken, and the tteokdokdok.”

“Tteokbokki,” you correct him gently.

“Tteoktokki,” he repeats.

“Tteok.”

“Bokki.”

“Tteokbokki.”

“Tteokdokki.”

You shake your head, “Tteok-Bo-Kki.”

“Tteok-Bo-Kki.”

You snap your fingers, nodding in approval, “Better.”

“I literally said the same thing.”

“You didn't.”

“Where will we eat this tteokbokki?” He says the tteokbokki slowly, careful with his pronunciation.

“There are night markets nearby,” you tell him. “It’s crowded though. I know a good convenience store that’s a good drive away. It’s usually empty. Do you go to convenience stores?”

You suddenly feel stupid for asking.

Do multi-millionaires like Lando Norris go to convenience stores? It’ll make much more sense if he books restaurants or employs a private chef to cook for him at home. Do they even have a palate for instant food? What do rich people snack on? You don't know. You're not rich. Even after becoming famous, you’re still not rich enough to live the life of luxury.

This just highlights the difference of the worlds you and Lando live in.

“I do. Just not frequently,” he shrugs. “We can go to the convenience store if you want. I don't mind.”

“No, it’s fine. We can eat anywhere you want. Jinnie might have a few hotel restaurants in mind.”

“But do you want to eat in hotel restaurants?”

His question makes you pause and Lando immediately takes your hesitation as a no.

“We can eat anything you want to eat. This is your place anyway. Show me around.”

You bite your lower lip as you contemplate. Should you or should you not? That is the question.

When your eyes drag themselves back to Lando’s face, you see that he’s already looking at you intently as he awaits your answer patiently. You want to shrink back at the intensity of his gaze.

“Well then, do you want to go on a convenience store date with me, boyfriend?”

Despite the hesitation he’s displayed earlier, Lando grins at your offer.

You take Lando to your favorite place in all of South Korea. Google Maps says it's a three hour drive away. You arrive there in two hours and a half.

Maybe it's a sign to change careers.

You used your Jeep Wrangler. Lando offered to drive but you shook your head and hopped on the driver’s seat, him taking the passenger seat.

You won't allow anyone to drive your car. It's a rule of yours.

The last time you allowed someone to drive your car, your Hyundai jumped over a sewage canal. Lando might be a professional race car driver and that alone spoke multitudes of his driving skills, but you're so traumatized with the incident with your Hyundai that you physically can't allow anyone, professional driver or not, to handle the steering wheel of any other cars you own.

Cars are expensive. You can't buy another car. You’ll bawl when you see the money departing your bank account.

You palm the steering-wheel with your right hand. Your left hand lays flat on the back of the passenger seat, behind Lando’s head. Your upper body is rotated towards the back, full focus activated as you reverse the car in expert ease. Lando is observing you, you can tell. You can feel his eyes burning holes in your side profile.

“You okay?” You ask Lando. The man has gone uncharacteristically silent when you’ve started reversing the car. You hear Lando let out a breath. Almost shakily. You cannot tell for sure.

“Yeah,” his voice breaks like a boy undergoing puberty and you have to thin your lips into a line to prevent yourself from laughing. “Nice parking skills.”

“Thanks,” you say nonchalantly. “You sure you're okay though?”

“Yeah, don’t worry,” you see his Adam's apple bobbing up and down as he rubs his throat. “I think the seatbelt’s a little too tight.”

Once the car’s perfectly parked, you kill the engine and exit the car. Lando follows suit.

“I don't know why you have to drive for almost three hours just to visit this place,” Lando gestures to the surroundings. “There's nothing here.”

“Exactly,” you say. “Come on, boyfriend.”

You pat his shoulder and lead the way. A bell chimes loudly as you push the door open. You step inside, the British racer only a few steps behind you. You tug down your mask.

“What's this place?” Lando questions.

“24-hour convenience store,” you answer. “But no staff.”

“No staff?” he asks. “So self service?”

“Ah yes, that’s the word. Self service,” You say. “Quite nice, right? We have complete privacy and good food. Two best things in the world.”

“Careful. Your introvert is showing.”

You snort, “First time coming to a place like this?”

“Yeah,” he shrugs. “No staff? Does nobody attempt to steal things?”

You shrug, “Probably not. Ramen is not worth going to jail for.”

“This shop will make a million dollar loss in an hour if it's in another country,” Lando says, his nose wrinkling. “Like in the UK or US or something.”

You beckon Lando to follow you through the aisles, “This way.”

“You even memorize the places of things,” he comments. “You come here often?”

You hum a yes. You stop in front of the freezer and open it, pulling out two plastic cups.

Lando’s forehead creases, “Just ice?”

“This is an ice cup,” you explain.

“Are we going to wait for the ice to melt before drinking it or….”

You stare at him incredulously before promptly bursting out in laughter.

“What's funny?” he asks, genuinely confused.

“Nothing, sorry,” you clear your throat. You don't know why you find that funny. Your humor is broken. “They sell pouches of juice or coffee and you pour it into the cup.”

Lando’s head tilts. He looks like a confused baby owl.

“Here, I’ll show you,” you walk up to a nearby shelf and grab a Kuromi pouch. It's peach-flavored. “This. You pour it here.”

You gesture to the ice cup. Lando’s mouth forms a circle in realization.

“Cool.”

“There are a lot of flavors,” you add, gesturing to the shelf. “Peach, apple, mango, strawberry, orange…”

You read out the flavors for Lando because you know he can't read Hangul. Lando wordlessly picks a grapefruit-flavored pouch. You nod.

“Good choice. Oh wait, we forgot to get a basket. Can you?”

Lando nods and leaves. When he comes back, now with a yellow basket, the two of you continue to browse down the entire store. You explain each of the food. He said no to most of them. Lando is a picky eater, you learn.

The two of you fill the basket near to the brim. You pay for each item, even though Lando insisted that he do it, and you occupy the table that faces that floor-to-ceiling glass window, overlooking the darkness of the night outside.

“Here,” you hand him a plastic fork. Lando accepts it, his brows furrowed. “You were struggling with the chopsticks.”

A shy smile makes its way to his face, “Sorry.”

You wave your hand as if to say it's no problem and plop down on the chair beside him. Lando digs in with his Buldak Samyang carbonara while you stir your Yoppoki Tteokbokki with yours before taking your first bite. You immediately let out a moan of pleasure.

“Is it delicious?” he asked.

“Very.”

You eat until your cheeks fill, chewing slowly.

“Oh wait, you should post something.”

“Now?”

“You took pictures of me earlier, right?” you know he did. He tried to be slick about it but you’d know if someone is taking a picture of you. “Put it on your story.”

“And delete it?”

“No. The world already knows we're dating anyway. Well, fake dating.”

Lando pulls out his phone and shows you the pictures in his gallery. There are aare a total of four pictures. Three are blurry. The other one is blocked by his finger.

“That one is good.”

“What do you mean good? It's blurry.”

“Blurry is an aesthetic.”

Lando shakes his head but opens his Instagram and begins to edit the photo you’ve chosen, “Help me with the caption?”

“I’m not good with them.”

“Me neither.”

“Your first caption was pretty good.”

“You think so?” he sounds hopeful.

You shrug your shoulders.

“Just say something like ‘her’ then put a period.”

That's the limit of your creative powers for the day.

Lando nods and begins typing. He’s typing quite long for a word with three letters and a single punctuation mark. He shows you the caption.

Your brows furrow.

He laughs, “I’m funny.”

“You’re really not,” you shake your head. “Put it in your drafts.”

“So I’m not posting it now?”

“You post it after we leave the place,” you say. “So we’ll be gone by the time the fans see it and decide they’ll come here.”

“That's very smart.”

“That's not being smart. That’s just common sense,” you state flatly.

“You know, I always thought you'd be a cold person.”

You raise a brow, not entirely sure if you're understanding him correctly. Cold is an adjective. It's used to describe temperature. You're uncertain if it can be applied to use as an adjective to describe a person.

Lando must have sensed your confusion that he adds, “Ice queen.”

Oh.

Yeah.

Okay. You understand it now.

“You used to look so cold and cool,” Lando says. “Ice queen. But also an IDGAF attitude. Very intimidating.”

You have no idea what IDGAF means but you nod your head and act like you understand him anyway. You make a mental note to search it up on the internet later.

“But you’re not.”

“I’m not,” you echo.

“You’re actually pretty sweet,” he adds.

“I’m trying to be kind.”

“You don't have to try. You already are.”

“The companies make us act sometimes.”

“What?”

“Like, before debut,” you begin. “There are companies that assign certain images to their idols. They give them parts to play like directors do to actors in movies. Like, oh, you look like this kind of person so you have to act like this kind of person. They take a look at your visuals and decide what role you’ll have. They took one look at my face and told me that I have to be a strict and serious person who is scary and cold and unbothered. I didn't want to do it because I tend to smile really easily before and I just wanted to have a lot of friends, you know?”

You shrug your shoulders.

“When you’re intimidating, you tend to not have a lot of them. Despite that, I followed the role. Many praised me for it and others just….well, they didn't like it. The company was happy, though. They told me I was good at acting. But it's just…sad that the person I am on the screen is not real.”

“Yeah, that's honestly sad. I can't imagine doing that for my team. I’ll suck at it. Imagine me cold and serious,” Lando makes a serious face but he ends up doing a The Rock Smoulder. You have to stop yourself from laughing out loud by thinning your lips and twisting it.

“You're doing it, though. For the team. This whole fake dating thing,” you gesture to yourselves.

Lando mutters something under his breath while stroking his chin. You don't catch it.

“Hm?”

“Nothing. I think your eyes are pretty.”

He's changing the subject. He does it so swiftly, too.

“I know, I thank my mother every day for it,” you joke and Lando chuckles softly. “But don't be jealous, you have pretty eyes yourself.”

He turns into a lovely shade of pink. You can see it. You don't speak of it.

“It changes colors sometimes,” you continue, pointing at your eyes. “Like, it’s kind of gray in the dark. But if the sun shines on it, it has three colors.”

“You stare at my eyes a lot, do you?”

“Well, if a certain thing is pretty, you can't help but stare, you know?”

“Yeah, I guess that's why I stare at you a lot, too.”

You laugh, the sound airy, shaking your head. What a flirt. The cute kind.

“I’m quite the head turner, aren't I?”

“You are,” he agrees seriously.

“You’re not so bad yourself.”

He smirks, confident.

“Careful, you might fall for me, fake girlfriend,” he says cheekily. You have the desire to shatter his ego so you did.

“You're handsome but you're not my type.”

His smirk falters. You give a chortle.

“What's your type then?” he asks, leaning slightly forward. His eyes reflect anticipation.

You fall into a momentary thoughtful silence, “For starters, attractive men who can drive very fast cars. With a racing license this time. Not like me.”

Lando smiles at your light attempt at a joke. Good to know that he finds the dark humor surrounding your career-ending scandal funny.

“I am an attractive man,” he gestures to his face. “With a priceless face and I drive a very fast car. Formula one or sports cars. Oh and would you look at that? I have a racing license and a regular driving license.”

“You are an attractive man,” you agree. “But again, not my type.”

Lando dramatically puts his hand against his chest, right above where his heart lies and acts like you just shot him dead on the spot.

“Hmm, what else? Ah, plays golf,” you list another trait of your ideal man.

“I play golf,” he crosses his arms, leans back against the back of his seat, and lifts his hips a little as he adjusts his sitting position on the chair, manspreading a little. This is one of the subtle things men do that women cannot help but find attractive. You’re also a woman. Of course, you find that attractive.

You roll your eyes, feigning annoyance. Lando laughs at you.

“A few years older than me.”

When Lando opens his mouth, you cut him off, holding up a finger, “I’m older than you.”

By months only but still.

“In the standards of your fake birthday, I am older than you.”

You huff, shaking your head. He is right, to some degree. The world thinks he is older than you because HAN Entertainment decided to lie about your birthday.

“Looks good in red.”

“You know, orange is a mixture of red and yellow. Technically, it's still red. So I look good in red. One plus one equals two. I am connecting shit.”

He raises two index fingers in the air and connects them together to put further emphasis on the words he imparted in a sage-like manner.

“You're not connecting anything.”

“Hell yeah, I am. I am so smart, I should just be McLaren’s chief strategist. Maybe then I can finally get my first win.”

You cannot help but raise an amused brow.

“Fine, if you're so smart Mr. Strategist, what's plan A to your victory?”

His answer comes immediately, no hesitation and he utters it with so much confidence in his chest: “Sneak into Red Bull and steal their car.”

You abruptly burst out laughing, the sound filling up the entire convenience store. You cannot hold it in anymore. You have to slap a hand over your mouth to quiet yourself down.

You don't laugh pretty. You're very much aware of that. You sound like a dolphin when you do. But Lando is so funny that you forget to feel conscious of the weird sound that leaves your mouth for a whole five seconds before you remember to compose yourself and stop.

“You don't have to cover your mouth when you laugh, you know?” he says. “Or try to stop yourself from laughing. Just laugh if you want.”

You give him a look. Why is he turning serious all of a sudden?

“Wait, red?” Lando does a double take once you’ve composed yourself. “Don’t tell me your ideal type is….”

His forehead creases. You nod.

He says, “Carlos?!” the same time you say, “It’s Kim Mingyu.” How did he even come to that conclusion?

Oh wait. Red. Older than you. Drives fast cars. Racing license. Makes sense.

You blink at each other.

“Who the hell is Kim Mingyu?”

“You don't know Kim Mingyu?” you pull out your phone, open Google Photos, and search for the folder named: 민규❤️❤️❤️. The folder contains 7659 photos of Kim Mingyu.

“Fake boyfriend, let me introduce you to my boyfriend, Kim Mingyu,” you show your favorite Mingyu photo.

The one where he’s wearing a black fitted shirt, his cheek against the back of his hand, and the veins in his arms bulging. He’s serving major boyfriend vibes.

Lando rolls his eyes.

“He doesn’t look that good.”

“No, Lando, you are not seeing it,” you hold the phone closer to his face.

“I am seeing it and I am saying he’s not good looking.”

“Lies.”

“I'm not lying.”

“It's Kim Mingyu.”

“And?”

You pull a face, retracting your phone. “Come on, he’s quite good looking. And tall. Very tall.”

You once have to stand beside him in an ending ceremony in Inkigayo. You barely even come up to his chest.

“I’m tall.”

“You’re shorter than him.”

“You're killing me here.”

You chuckle. You pat his shoulder in faux sympathy.

“There, there. That's okay. You're my boyfriend anyway. Don't be jealous.”

“Damn right, I am.”

You snort.

“But you have to stan Seventeen though. After your race in Suzuka, we’ll try to binge GoSe.”

When you’re too full to finish the rest of your tteokbokki, you drag Lando outside the convenience store.

“Sand?” he questions.

“Sand,” you state.

“There's sand in my shoes,” Lando complains.

“Take it off and like,” you make the motion of flipping your shoes upside down to remove the sand inside. He does as you’ve told him but he seems to be not fully satisfied with it. There is still sand inside his shoe.

“This won't do,” he says. “I should have brought flip flops.”

“Let's go barefoot,” you kick off your shoes and neatly place them on the foot of a nearby coconut tree. You motion for Lando to do the same, but you’re met with hesitance.

“What if someone steals them?”

It's a valid concern to have, you suppose. You look around you. Darkness is all that can be perceived.

“Who’d steal them? Cheonyeogwisin?”

“I don't even know what that is.”

“Just leave the shoes here, Lando.”

The sand feels good underneath your feet. A bit ticklish. A little too familiar. You turn on the flashlight of your phone and jog up to the shore.

“Wait for me!” you hear Lando scream from behind you.

“Palli!” you yell back, voice almost drowning in the wind.

“I am palli-ing!”

You roll your pants up to your knees and soak your feet in the cold waves, shivering. You turn around just as Lando body slams you and the two of you fall into the ice-cold waves. Your jaw comes slack, eyes wide. The two of you are now drenched from head to toe.

Lando bashfully smiles, “Sorry.”

“Lando!” you splash him in his face.

Lively shrieks fill the silent night sky. The stars twinkle with mirth at the two of you, the line between fake and real blurring.

Lando flies out just four hours after you arrive in Seoul proper. You feel bad for bringing him somewhere far and not giving him enough hours to rest. Then, he tells you: "It's one of the best nights I've ever had."

He sounds so sincere that you have to stop yourself from blushing red.

In the schedule Jinnie gave you, you are only required to make an appearance in the race proper on the 24th. You have the 20th, 21st, and 22nd to work on your single before having to fly out on the 23rd. Regardless, you fly to Japan on the 21st with Jinnie in tow, two days earlier than your original schedule.

Jinnie doesn't question nor protest against your obvious disobedience on the appointed schedule. You're glad she didn't.

"Lando?" you question after seeing the man standing behind your hotel door. It's nearly twelve and you've just checked in the hotel with Jinnie. "What are you..."

"Just checking in," he smiles. "Do you mind if I come in?"

"Don't you have a race tomorrow?" Despite your question, you sidestep to let him inside your hotel room. "You should be resting."

"That's okay. I'm well rested. Are you going to watch the FP1 tomorrow?"

You shake your head, "I'm going to work on my song."

"Oh," his face falls. "Why'd you fly in early then?"

You shrug.

Honestly, you don't know either.

It's an act based purely on impulse. Not your finest moments.

"Maybe I can watch?" you say. "I'm not really sure."

You don't want to get mobbed again.

ORACLE has a rather large fanbase in Japan. You know there will be curious fans who'll await your appearance in the race. And while you're glad that your PR relationship with Lando is receiving the right type of attention from the public, you still hate having this much attention on you.

"You don't have to if you don't want to," Lando says.

"I'll go," you decide with finality. "I mean this is why we're doing this in the first place, right? Make people believe that we're real."

Lando's lips form a line.

"I suppose."

"Then, I'll be there."

The song making can wait.

Once again, Jinnie takes charge in deciding your clothing. You’ve long since given up on protesting or even suggesting your ideas. You have to get used to it again. Wearing whatever is given to you like a doll. After all, you are to return to the stage of KPop again.

Today’s WAG OOTD is a Miu Miu black dress, a black leather jacket, and Gianvito Rossi strappy sandals. Nothing too impressive. It's just the free practice sessions after all.

Jinnie hands you the McLaren ball cap and you grimace.

“How's the song coming up?”

“I’ve been trying to combine my demos and see how it sounds,” you reply. “But I have a concept in mind and I jotted down a few phrases for the lyrics.”

“I got an email from Yoon PD-nim today. He’s strongly suggesting you use a racing concept for your single.”

Strongly suggesting.

Translation: commanding.

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

Fuck it.

He’s really going to use the scandal and hope it’ll make you rise from the ashes like a phoenix reborn. The problem is that you're far from a phoenix. You’re human. As disappointing that may be but that is the cold truth. You're uncertain how people will react if you use a racing concept. You cannot afford to risk this over something like this.

You have one chance. And if KNetz reacts badly on your song and your MV, you’re never going to have another chance to go back on stage, to go back home.

Yoon PD-nim is too thoughtless at times. You want to shake him.

Jinnie drives you to the paddock and drops you to the parking lot. You expect that you’ll have to find your way to the garage again alone. Your knees are trembling as you step out of the car.

To your surprise, a staff member of the McLaren team—you assume he works for the team because of the orange polo shirt—approaches you as you exit the car.

“[Name]?”

“Hi,” you offer a polite smile.

“I’m Rick, I’m one of Lando’s mechanics, pleasure to meet you,” he introduces.

“Pleasure is all mine, Sir,” you say, dipping your chin into a small bow.

“Come this way,” he beckons. You follow him.

“Did Lando ask you to pick me up?”

“Well, he insisted on picking you up but the race was about to start so we had to force him to stay put in the livery and he wouldn't stay put until we said we’ll pick you up. Said people might flock over you and you don't like it when it happens.”

Your heart warms.

“That's very thoughtful of him. And sweet.”

“That's Lando Norris for you,” he says. “He’s always treating all the people he’s working with kindly. He only has to be polite but he even exerts effort in helping and making our work easier.”

“That's true,” you agree. “I can attest to that, as his fake girlfriend. He only has to treat me well when there's a camera but he’s even going as far as offering friendship.”

The rest of the walk to McLaren was peaceful. Or at least as peaceful as you hope it can be.

#f1 x reader #formula 1 #formula one #f1 imagines #fluff #fanfic #lando norris x reader #lando norris #ln4 fic #ln4 #ln4 x reader #kpop idol! reader

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all-about-kyu · 1 year ago

Text

𝕽𝖊𝖉 𝕮𝖆𝖗𝖓𝖆𝖙𝖎𝖔𝖓𝖘 𝕭𝖊𝖙𝖜𝖊𝖊𝖓 𝕻𝖆𝖌𝖊𝖘 (𝖒𝖞 𝖍𝖊𝖆𝖗𝖙 𝖆𝖈𝖍𝖊𝖘)

Summary: Being in a polyamorous relationship can take a toll on a person; Jongho just happened to be the one to uncork the bottle. Pairing: Seonghwa x San x fem!reader x Yeosang x Jongho Tropes: hybrid au, poly au, established relationship au Genre: fluff, angst, suggestive Rating: PG 13 Warnings: language, anxiety, stress, mentions of unhealthy self-care habits, reader described as smaller than all members and has blue eyes (bunny quality), minor injury, mentions of sex, kissing Word Count: 6,164 Note: your favorite Thunder is back! <3 thank you to @mejuii and @downtoamagicalland for beta reading as always <3

Listen to: Put It Straight by (G)-Idle ♡ As I Am (feat. Khalid) by Justin Bieber ♡ I GUESS I’M IN LOVE by Clinton Kane

Series Masterlist

You’ve been holed up in your workspace almost all day. You have been for a few days now. The only times you ever emerge are to shower and get some form of nourishment in your body. The influx of orders you had for your shop came out of nowhere, and you’re struggling to keep up with what needs to be done. All three of your boyfriends are worried about you, to say the least. San hasn’t been around much due to a merger he’s been working on, and Yeosang has been running around like a chicken with his head cut off, trying to get everything arranged for a new project that could make or break a lot of things for him. Seonghwa has been around, though. Just yesterday, he decided to stay home from the shop and sketch while you worked on crafting a rather detailed necklace.

You’re so lost in what you’re creating that you hardly register the knock on your door. So when it pops open, you drop your half-done chain making the individual links scatter across the desk. Despite the urge to break down right then and there, you take a deep breath and recollect yourself. When you look up, you’re met with a very concerned-looking purple dragon.

“Treasure, you’ve been in here all day… have you eaten anything?” San asks with a worried tone.

“I’m fine.” You give him a tight-lipped smile, “I need to finish this bracelet by tomorrow and get it shipped out.”

San steps closer and squats down beside you. Even with him squatting, he’s barely below your eye level. It only serves to remind you how much smaller you are than them. Your silver-eyed boyfriend reaches to take your hands in his. At first, he doesn’t think anything of the tension rings along your fingers. He knows it helps you from cramping up too quickly. Then he takes in the small pinches and cuts on your fingertips and palms.

“Treasure, you should take a break. I’m worried about you. We all are.” He tries to reason with you.

“I’ll come to eat after this project is done, promise.” You offer, taking your hand to run over some of his scales along his cheekbone.

“You better have eaten a well-balanced meal and drank at least three glasses of water by the time I get back from my meeting,” He bluntly reminds you.

“I’ll do my best to do that.” You chuckle while playfully saluting him.

He stands back up to his full height, “I love you, and I hate to see you so overworked.” He sighs, placing a kiss against the base of one of your bunny ears.

“I love you too. I promise I’ll leave this room at some point.”

Some point becomes hours later when Seonghwa forces you out of the room even though the bracelet is still incomplete. San walks back in the door, Yeosang beside him, as you’re nibbling on a veggie wrap. Seonghwa is sitting beside you eating as well to make you feel less alone in your activity. San has a small bit of smoke curling out of his lip that he tries to stop you from seeing. It doesn’t work, though. Yeosang whispers something that seems to soothe the purple dragon before they both walk over to you.

“How’s your project coming?” Yeosang asks innocently.

“Still not done….” You sigh, bunny ears falling back against your hair, “It was supposed to be done today so I could ship it out tomorrow….”

“And it’s okay that you didn’t finish it today.” Seonghwa offers, “You own your own business, and sometimes you need to know your limits on what can be done.”

“But-”

“No buts,” San adds, “you did what you could today. That’s all that matters.”

You nod silently and take another small bite out of your wrap before placing it down on the plate again. When you get stressed like this, you hardly want to eat anything. You know it’s an unhealthy habit, but it’s just how you function. Despite your quiet state, your three boyfriends seem to easily flow through conversation. Some sort of ugly jealousy curls through your stomach. The way they seem to fit together easily without any seams makes you feel almost out of place in a way. You’re not willing to address that with your current state of mind, though.

“Hops,” Yeosang calls quietly; you look up at him, “You didn’t hear me, did you?” He chuckles sweetly, “Who do you want to crash with tonight?”

You nibble at your lower lip, “I think I’ll stay in my nest tonight.”

“Do you want one or more of us to–” You cut Seonghwa off before he can finish his question.

“No!” You blurt out, “I want to sketch out some more projects, and I’d hate to keep you up.”

“You know that won’t bother us, treasure.” San reminds you, “I’d much rather you get some good rest than workshop more projects.”

“I’ll be fine, San, I promise.” You stand up abruptly, ignoring the (barely) half-eaten wrap. “Good night boys. Love you!”

You bolt to the room your nest and work area are in. The moment you firmly shut the door, you sit down at your desk and hunch over the same bracelet you’ve been working on all day.

Even after slaving over projects for the next two days, it feels like you’ve made no progress. You’re pacing back and forth in your studio and nest space, hoping that inspiration strikes you to at least finish one project. A soft knock sounds on your door again. This time Yeosang is the one who pops his head through the doorway. You’re worrying on the edge of your ear and continue pacing even though you feel your boyfriend’s worried eyes on you.

“Hops,” His low voice sounds through the space, “Sannie and Hwa already headed out for the day. They thought you were still sleeping when they were leaving.” He explains.

“I’ve been up for a while.” You respond flatly, “I need to get this shit done.”

Yeosang is slightly taken aback. You’ve never been one to curse. So to hear you say such a word was not what he was expecting to come from your mouth. He steps closer and grabs you gently to stop you from pacing anymore. You look up at him and see the worry swirling in his green eyes. He pulls you into a hug. You’ve come to learn that he’s not very physically affectionate outside your heat. So the fact that he has you wrapped in a hug, your face buried in his chest, means a lot. His minty scent invades your senses, giving you a momentary feeling of peace. That lingering panic and fear creeps back into you when he pulls away.

“Take a break from your projects, Hops.” He reminds you, “Stepping away from a project can do wonders sometimes.”

You nod, “I will.”

It may be a half-truth, but you don’t want to worry him if you don’t need to. He places a soft kiss against the top of your head and takes another step back.

“I have to go meet a client. Unfortunately, all three of us are out of the house for the rest of the day.” He sighs, “I should be back around dinner time. San said he has a business dinner tonight, and Seonghwa is closing the shop today since Yun is off.”

“I’m a big bunny,” You try to joke, “I can take care of myself.”

“I know, little one,” He smiles softly, “Just giving you the rundown for the day. I’ll see you at dinner, okay?”

“Okay.” You nod, your snow-white ears twitching slightly when he gently scratches the base of them.

Yeosang is out the door, and a few moments later, you hear the front door of the penthouse close too. You debate your options for a few moments before deciding to get a drink before returning to work. You aren’t fully sure who’s home right now. At least you know Yunho is home. You’re about ninety percent sure Mingi is at his university lecturing right now. It’s likely that Wooyoung is at his dance studio, and you haven’t seen Hongjoong in about three days. When you get to the kitchen, you find that Jongho is home too. He’s sitting at the small breakfast bar sipping on a mug of tea. You shuffle behind him, being sure not to knock into his deep blue tail. You reach up into the cabinet to get a glass when you feel a hand on your shoulder. You nearly jump out of your skin and end up dropping the glass, causing it to shatter on the counter. Immediately, Yunho moves to make sure you’re okay and explains he wasn’t trying to scare you. Your fight-or-flight instincts kick in, and you’re already down the hall and back in your nest. The first thing you can think to do is grab the duffle bag and start stuffing clothing into it. Tears are threatening to fall from your eyes, but you hold them back for now. You can smell the two men that are home. They’re still down the hallway. However, your senses are out of sorts due to your panicked state.

Again, a knocking sounds on the door frame. You whip your head around, and your ears twitch around, trying to find one sound to focus on. Your nose twitches even more as you take in the dark blue dragon standing in the doorway. Jongho steps into the space when you don’t speak, knowing you need someone to calm you down. He would have never breached your space without your permission had you been more stable mentally.

“Where are you off to?” He asks gently.

That’s when your tears burst through fully. You start sobbing and find yourself face-first in Jongho’s sweater before you can stop yourself. He awkwardly wraps his arms around you and tries to soothe you. The room is only filled with sniffles and loud sobs as you stand there in the golden-eyed dragon’s arms. You’re completely unaware of how long you cry in his arms, but when you finally slow to a sniffle, you pull your face away from his sweater. There’s a large wet spot from the amount of crying you just did. There’s a bit of snot, too, which you cringe at and immediately try to wipe off with your own sweater. You can feel his strong chest beneath the fluffy material, but your mental state is hardly focused on the dragon’s physique. Your head is pounding from crying, which doesn’t help the situation at all. Jongho still has his arms wrapped around you, securing you in your spot.

“You need to talk about anything?” He offers quietly.

“Are you sure you want to hear all of that?” You chuckle, trying to downplay your emotions.

“You need it. We both know that.” He sighs, not letting you divert anything.

Suddenly you’re very aware of his arms wrapped around you and how comforting it feels. You find yourself nodding at him.

“Do you want to go to a neutral space, or are you comfortable right here?” He searches your pale blue eyes for any discomfort as he asks.

You appreciate how respectful of your boundaries he’s being. You know you need this, and he does too. Damn him and his phenomenal therapist skills.

“We can stay here…” You bite your lip, debating whether or not you want to ask him a specific question or not. You decide to throw caution to the wind and ask. “Do- do you um… could we-”

“What’s up Hops?”

“Well… I’m kind of all over the place, and… do you care if we cuddle while I vent?”

“Would that make you feel more comfortable?” he asked again.

You nod, “It would…”

“In your nest?”

“Yeah… if that’s okay.”

“Lead the way.”

Jongho releases you from his hold and allows you to get comfortable in bed where your nest is before he approaches it. You shift a little bit allowing Jongho to climb in beside you. The dragon is slightly stiff as he gets semi-comfortable. You snuggle close to him, which makes him melt beneath you. He wraps an arm around you and sighs with a small smile on his face.

“What’s on that mind of yours, Hops?” He asks once you’re both comfortable.

“A lot of things… where should I start?”

“Wherever you want to.” He offers, small vines wrapping around his fingers as you get more comfortable.

“I feel like an outsider.” You admit, “And like a failure…”

“What makes you say that? You have your fluffle, and you’re part of the Thunder now. You have a successful business making jewelry.”

“I haven’t been able to finish a single project for days now, and I feel horrible. These people are waiting for me to finish these pieces for them and-” You start crying again.

“Take your time.” He reminds you, “Do you wanna hear my two cents on this, or do you want to continue what you were saying.”

“You can talk.” You sniffle, burying your face against his sweater.

He wraps his arm around you tighter. The small vines tickle against your jaw lightly as his fingers hold your shoulder. You find yourself sinking further into his touch subconsciously.

“Here’s what I think.” He starts, “Everyone has their own threshold. When you reach that threshold, you can’t do it anymore. You need a break. Your limit is different from mine and different from the others in the Thunder. You need to give yourself breaks, Hops.”

“I know, but-”

“No buts, bunny.”

“But, Jongho…” You pout, “You’re super successful in your career, San owns a whole monopoly, Seonghwa and Yunho own a tattoo shop-”

“And you have a very successful jewelry business.” He stops you mid-sentence, “Just cause we have more income doesn’t mean that you’re unsuccessful.”

You nod and nibble at your lip. You feel a thumb against your lip, gently pulling it from between your teeth. When you look up at Jongho, you see him giving you a gentle, borderline endearing look. It steals your breath away for a moment. Your ears go lax as you maintain eye contact with the navy dragon. You take note of how his navy scales frame his face perfectly and how they contrast against his bright red hair. Suddenly, you snap back to reality and shake your head slightly to ground yourself.

“I know that but still…”

“Still what?” He prods lightly.

“You guys seem actually to get work done, and I’m still fighting with this same necklace that I’ve been working on all week. I have a damn sketch of the thing, and I can’t even do it.” You groan.

“What’s on paper doesn’t always convey in practice. Have you tried looking at it or approaching it a new way?” He asks, his thumb gently caressing your arm as he speaks.

“... No…” You admit, gaze dropping down to your fingers, “I’ve been very set on the style, and my customer really likes the design I sketched…”

“And it’s your business.” He reminds you, “If you need to rework things because it’s impossible to do in practice, they need to understand that or lose their deposit on the art.”

You nod silently. Jongho notices you remain quiet after providing his two cents on your situation. There’s far more to your issue, and he knows it. He moves his navy blue tail to be draped over his thigh and, by proxy, wrap around yours. The tip of it rests against your lower back. And while you’re used to dragon tails resting against you, Jongho’s tail feels almost foreign to you but absolutely not unwelcomed.

“I know that’s not all, bun.” He sighs, letting the arm wrapped around you hold you just a bit tighter, “What else is going through that mind of yours?”

You look up at him and see his golden eyes fixated on you, “I don’t think you want to hear about my relationship right now.”

“I want you to feel better.” He assures, “Tell me what’s going on.”

You find yourself curling closer to the dragon and tucking your head just below his chin. You feel a few scales along his jaw, but it’s nothing that bothers you. After all, you live here with them almost all the time now; you’re no stranger to scales touching you. Your ears are pushed back and lying flat against your hair overtop Jongho’s arm. You feel him relax further after his initial tensing.

“Well… about a week ago, we were, um…” You didn’t know how to phrase it to him.

“You were having sex, okay. What went wrong to make you feel so uncomfortable and try to run away today?”

“How did you know I was gonna say that?” You try to deflect.

Jongho chuckles airily, “You're going to tell me I’m wrong?” You don’t answer, “So, what happened that got you to this point.”

You sigh and debate whether you want to let it all out or tell him just to forget about it. It wasn’t that big a deal, right? Jealously happens in relationships. Jealousy looks different in yours because instead of two people, there are five.

“Smells like burnt cookies.” Jongho points out, “Just say it before you end up smelling like a burnt kitchen rather than overbaked cookies.” He teases lightly.

“I feel like an outsider in my own relationship.”

“Okay, why do you feel like that? You know San, Seonghwa, and Yeosang would burn the world to the ground if you asked them.”

You feel the tears well up in your eyes again. One escapes and lands on Jongho’s barely damp sweater. Though you know, Jongho can’t see your eyes with your face tucked under his chin. He does seem to know you’re having an emotional hurricane internally. You feel his tail press a bit harder against your body as if to mock some weighted blanket to help you relax.

“They just seem so happy together. I felt like after that very awkward sex that I was just a hookup again.”

“That bad?” He sighs, “I know you know how the Thunder functioned before San and Seonghwa brought you home. Hell, Yunho, and Mingi are worse than you’re polycule sometimes.” He lightens the air, “Remember, you’re the glue that holds those boys together. Yes, they would casually hook up with each other before you were introduced to us, but the dates, talking about how they feel, regulating their schedules… Hops, that’s all thanks to your influence on this Thunder. It feels like I’ve tried to have interventions more often with them than with my clients. Something about you made it click, though.”

“Jongho?”

“Yeah?”

You don’t know what overtakes you, but you untuck your face from his chest and kiss his cheek. You realize what you’ve done after you see Jongho’s slightly shocked expression. Your nose starts to twitch as panic rises in your throat again. Jongho’s strong hold keeps you in your place, along with his tail still lying across your legs and along your back.

“It’s okay, bun.” He assures, “You just surprised me. If you want to ask something when you’re in the right headspace, you can do so. You’re not in a completely clear or stable mental place right now, though.”

You nod, “Sorry,”

“Nothing to apologize for. Come back here and get comfy again.” He offers, “You rant, and I’ll listen.”

You tuck yourself back against the dark blue dragon and almost feel like you’re at home in his arms. A tug in your heart makes itself known. Of course, it would now, when you’re in the midst of emotional and relational turmoil. Jongho smooths a hand over your hair and ears as you start rambling about everything that’s been bothering you. From missing your fluffle to work to your boyfriends’ dynamic. You feel small amounts of weight press against your hair.

“What’s in my hair?” You ask, “I feel something.”

“I’m weaving flowers in.” He says casually, “Do you want me to take them out?”

“N-no,” You feel the heat of a blush rush to your face, “Tell me about the flowers.”

“There’s a few red carnations, that’s all. Some are full blooms, others are half-blooms. They look nice against your hair. I like the contrast from how pure white your ears are too.”

You pull your body to be sitting up. Jongho is still lying down, and his eyebrows scrunch together in confusion.

“You can put them and more flowers in my hair all you want. I’m giving you more space to work with while I talk.” You explain, “I like that you’re playing with my hair.”

A smile graces his lips, and you barely see his fangs peek out. He conjures a small bouquet of little dainty pink and white flowers. One moment there was nothing there, and the next, the flowers were in his hand.

“So, as I was saying, I love my boyfriends, but it’s hard not to feel excluded when they know each other like their favorite things in the world. It really hurt me when I saw San and Yeosang cuddling while Seonghwa tossed the wet wipes at me. I know I’m newest to whatever dynamics were happening here before, but…” You interrupt yourself with a sigh, “I’m still their girlfriend, and it doesn’t feel like it sometimes.”

Jongho accidentally tugs at your hair while braiding a flower into it, making you yelp slightly.

“Sorry,” He quickly apologizes, “I know it hurts to just feel like a side piece in your relationship. You also need to communicate how you’re feeling, though. I know, ironic when you have three emotionally constipated dragon boyfriends, but it’s true.”

“I just don’t want to make them mad at me…”

“If they get mad at you for having normal emotions, then I’ll personally make them each a batch of poison ivy tea when I refill the tea satchels.”

You giggle lightly and feel Jongho move your hair over your shoulder, signifying that he’s done meticulously intertwining each flower with your hair. You turn around and face him. He’s sitting criss-cross in your nest still. His golden eyes practically melt you as he gives you an affectionate look. Those tugs at your heart return, this time accompanied by a tornado of butterflies in your stomach.

“You feel better now?” He asks softly.

You nod, “I needed that a lot more than I realized.”

He opens his arms, “You still look like you need some comforting before you talk to your boys.”

You climb into his lap, slotting your legs around his hips, and feel his strong arms wrap around your waist in a tight hug. You bury your face in the crook of his neck. Your nose fills with his book scent, and it instantly relaxes you. You don’t break away even when you hear the penthouse door open and click shut again. You’re so engulfed in his scent you don’t even know who’s returning to the lair. Jongho’s arms tighten around you even more. Then, you process the sniffles you’re letting out. You’re not even sure if you’re feeling the emotional aftermath of the day or if you’re nervous about the confrontation later, but you’re sniffling back tears again. Your tears slide down Jongho’s neck and along the snake tattoo that looks as if it’s curling around his collarbone. He doesn’t say anything about it. He doesn’t question why you’re crying or make any comment to stop you from feeling what you do. He lets you feel. It’s just what you need right now.

“What’s this?” You hear San snarl.

You tense in Jongho’s hold. Fight or flight instincts beg you to bolt for the door, even if San grabs you in the process. The only thing stopping you is Jongho’s arms holding you in place. Suddenly, Jongho rips a flower out of your hair. You yelp at the sudden movement and then see the navy dragon shaking out a singed red carnation. You know San didn’t mean any harm to you. When he was pissed, he tended to lose complete control of what he did with his magic.

“Hops.” He snarls, “I need to talk to you. Alone. Now.”

He hasn’t called you that since you officially started dating him. Hearing the neutral nickname sounds foreign to your ears in the worst way possible. You’ve never seen him direct his anger at you, either. Your heart rate spikes again, and your nose twitches at the speed of light. Subconsciously you grip onto Jongho, maybe to try to soothe yourself. You don’t want to think too hard about why it was comforting to you.

“Talk to him. It’ll be okay. If not, remember what I told you.” He ends his sentence with a slight chuckle.

You nod and climb out of Jongho’s lap. Your eyes linger on his golden eyes, noticing how his pupils dilate as he looks back at you. While you’d love to think it’s out of affection toward you, you decide to believe it’s simply to help calm you further. Jongho gets out of your nest and dismisses himself from the space. You watch as a vine curls around the door nob and pulls the white wood door shut. The tension is tangible enough as it is, but when the therapist dragon leaves, it becomes almost suffocating. San’s silver eyes are slit so thinly you can hardly see his pupils at all. It’s as if they don’t exist at all.

“I-it wasn’t what it looked like…” You say, trying to ease a bit of the tension.

“Are you sure, Hops?” He practically growls, “It sure looked like you were getting too cozy with someone who isn’t one of your boyfriends. We said you could cuddle with the others if you needed it. That was crossing a line, though.”

Normally seeing your deep purple scaled boyfriend dressed for the office sends you into a mood that you would put in a similar category to your heat. Now, though, it only strikes fear in you. You so desperately wish to crumble under his stare and submit to your prey tendencies. You swallow that urge and hold your head high, remembering Jongho’s words.

I know it hurts to just feel like a side piece in your relationship. You also need to communicate how you’re feeling, though.

“Would you have rather me run away back to my fluffle without a word to any of you?” You bite back, throwing your arm in the direction of your half-packed duffle bag, “You, Seonghwa, and Yeosang have been making me feel like I’m not even part of our relationship anymore. Had Jongho not stopped me, I would’ve been gone for hours by now. Yes, the cuddling could be seen as crossing a line, but he’s the reason I didn’t go running out mere moments after Yeosang left.”

“Treasure…” San starts, trying to step closer to you.

You put your hand up, and it’s as if you put up an invisible block in front of him.

“Let me speak.” You sigh, “You three communicate without words. You’ve been involved with each other in many different ways long before I was brought to the Thunder. After last week’s events… seeing how easily you knew how to take care of Yeosang while you three practically ignored me and let me handle myself hurt. I’m your girlfriend, but the longer I’m here, the more I feel like just a hookup you brought in with your two boyfriends for some extra fun.”

You let out a shaky breath. You don’t want to cry telling him all of that, but you feel your eyes fill with tears. There’s no way you’ll be able to stop them from falling. You sniffle and let your gaze fall down to your feet rather than looking at your boyfriend. He doesn’t move. That invisible block is still fixated in front of him.

As if the timing couldn’t be worse, you smell Seonghwa’s sweet strawberry jam scent enter the home accompanied by Yeosang’s peppermint tea. It’s as if he knows there’s tension, too. You know your scent is burnt, and San’s is far stormier than his typical calm sea breeze scent. Your eldest boyfriend doesn’t even knock. He invites himself and Yeosang into your bedroom and is greeted by your crying figure and San a few steps away with tendrils of smoke escaping the corners of his lips. Yeosang is the first to step closer, placing a kiss on San’s cheek, only solidifying your emotions. Comforting San before stepping closer to you.

“Tell me what’s going on.” Yeosang asks quietly, wrapping his arms around your frame.

You try to break out of his hold, but you’re no match for his strength. Angry tears keep rolling down your cheeks as you stay trapped in his hold.

“Look at me.” Authority rings in his tone.

This time, you look at him.

“Am I that unloveable?” You snap.

“Treasure, please.” San says weakly.

“Yeosang.” You say flatly, “Let me go.”

Your bronze boyfriend backs off. All three of them are clearly concerned about you and trying to figure out why you just asked the question you did. Your nose is still twitching, and tears are still staining your cheeks.

“We need to have a long talk. All four of us.” You huff.

You settle in your nest, wrapping yourself in a throw blanket that smells much more like Jongho than any of your boyfriends. You see the jealousy in San’s eyes as you do so. Yeosang is on your work stool, Seonghwa is sitting in your reading chair, and San is still brooding, leaning against your closed bedroom door. You can’t escape. It’s probably for the best; you need to say this.

“I kinda yelled this at San already, but… you three have been neglecting me.”

You watch as the confusion etches in Seonghwa’s face. He had been spending the most time with you compared to your other two boyfriends. Yeosang’s reaction isn’t as visible, but you know he’s just as confused. San knows, though. He hates that you’re saying it again.

“I feel like a hookup again. You three are so seamless with each other and don’t seem to give me any care. Last week, Seonghwa… you just threw the wet wipes at me while San took care of Yeosang with so much care… that fucking hurt. I almost ran away today. Jongho stopped me.”

“Treasure… we love you so much. I’m sorry I did that. I wasn’t even thinking about it-” Seonghwa tries to explain.

“I know… it doesn’t change that it hurt… still hurts worse than hell. San came home and found me cuddling with Jongho in a way that was a bit compromising. There was nothing inappropriate happening. I promise. And–” You stop yourself.

“What is it, Hops?” Yeosang asks quietly, “We need to know everything.”

“I kissed him.” You admit, “I was on such an emotional rollercoaster, and he made me feel safe and loved… I didn’t think about what I did until after it happened.”

None of them speak. It scares the hell out of you. Your pale blue eyes flit between all three of them. Their expressions are unreadable. Well, San’s isn’t. A fresh curl of smoke escapes his nose as he wills his flames back down his throat.

“Did you like it?” Yeosang asks again.

You hadn’t thought about that. Did you? It was so spur of the moment you didn’t actually think about how it made you feel. Your heart feels like it’s on fire. It aches.

“I did.” You admit.

“What do you want that to mean for us?” Seonghwa adds.

“I know we’re on delicate grounds right now…” You sigh, wrapping the blanket tighter around yourself, “I feel the same pull toward him that I do towards you three.”

“Transparency, right?” San finally speaks, “I’m so fucking jealous, but you’re right… we haven’t been caring for you the way we’ve been caring for each other. We should all make an effort to meet each other where we are. All four of us. And–” he stops himself, “If you want Jongho, we can invite him.”

“Seonghwa? Yeosang?” You ask, ears shifting towards them.

“Honestly…” Yeosang sighs, “I miss being with Jongho. We also knew in this Thunder we have a tendency to share, even with San’s jealous streak.” He pokes fun at his purple boyfriend.

“I’m always happy to do anything that helps our relationship and ultimately you, Treasure. I love all my Thunder, and I love you.”

A smile breaks out on your lips, and tears start streaming again. San is the first to approach you. He wraps his arms around you, tail curling protectively around your waist. You feel both of your other boyfriends join moments later.

“I love you, Treasure.” San whispers against your bunny ear.

“I love you.” You sniffle back.

“We all love you.” Yeosang kisses your other ear.

After a long discussion about what each of you needed from each other, you begin discussing who should approach Jongho about joining. It’s out of the question for San to do so. The last time San and Jongho interacted was when he walked in on you, cuddling with the dark blue dragon. Ultimately, Yeosang is chosen. He’s the closest to him, and they think the same way. Their history together before Yeosang started dating you just adds to why he should be the one to ask. Yeosang is also the newest boyfriend. Having Seonghwa go to the youngest dragon could end badly, given that Seonghwa has been dating you longer than Yeosang has.

You go with Yeosang down the hall toward Jongho’s bedroom. You stay outside the door as Yeosang gets permission to enter the space. Instantly, you hear laughter and feel how light the atmosphere is in the room. You see a few hanging plants through the small crack in the door. You haven’t seen many of their bedrooms in great detail, but seeing greenery in Jongho’s room makes warmth spread in your chest.

“Treasure,”

You’re taken aback when you hear the pet name. It’s not Yeosang’s voice. It’s Jongho’s. You step closer to the door. Popping your head through the door, white ears tall on your head, you see Jongho’s golden eyes giving you that same adoring look he had earlier. Yeosang has a soft, comfortable smile on his lips. His hand is outstretched, and you find yourself curling into his side.

Jongho’s room is exactly how you expected it to be. Plants are everywhere, not so much that it’s crowded, but it adds a comforting and homey touch to the space. He has a desk against the far wall, framed by bookshelves. His bed has a wall of vines behind it with purple flowers randomly throughout them. There’s something about the space that is so shamelessly Jongho.

“Is there something you wanted to ask me, Treasure?” Jongho asks with a soft smirk on his lips.

You nod, and your eyes shift up to your green-eyed boyfriend. He just nods slightly at you and gives you a comforting smile.

“Jongho… would you like to be my boyfriend?” You ask.

Yeosang removes his arm from around you as Jongho steps closer to you. The gold-eyed dragon hybrid takes your chin between his thumb and forefinger, making you look up at him. You want so desperately to melt at the touch but you hold your ground somehow. Your ears instantly fall back against your head as your chin tilts up. The flowers are still woven into your hair and tickle against your ears, making them twitch slightly. Jongho takes his other hand to pluck some flowers from your hair.

“Red carnations: admiration, devotion,” he states, twirling it in between his fingers. He shifts his hold on the flowers to show the small white and pink flowers. “Aster: faith, love. Does that answer your question, Treasure?”

“Jongho?” You ask, dazed by his words.

“Yes, Treasure. I’d love to date you.” He smiles a bright, gummy smile, “May I kiss you?”

“Yes.” You practically breathe out.

His lips are on yours a moment later, and you feel an explosion of emotion. The hand that was previously holding the flowers wraps around your waist and pulls you closer to his body. It’s almost as if you’re the only two in the world. When he pulls away, you see his heavily dilated gold eyes. Your hand reaches up to brush against a few scales by his hairline before carding into his hair behind his ear. Before you can get lost in the moment again, Yeosang swoops in and kisses your cheek before leaning over to Jongho and kissing his cheek as well. He wraps his arms around both of you. You turn your head to see your two other boyfriends in the doorway with sweet smiles on their faces. They come into the room and join the hug. Yeah, everything felt better now. They felt like home, and your heart aches out of pure love for your four boyfriends.

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