#but I didn’t feel like they fit being all in one post on tumblr

[jae-in-a-trenchcoat]

Last wave of trolls art I have recently finished, sorry for the excessive posting I just love these guys :)

[hplonesomeart]

Hey. Sorry about the inactivity, but pretty sure no one cared that much anyways lol. Been a looooong time since I kept that distant from Tumblr…at least now I know I’m able to survive without checking posts every day/being chronically online! I’ve got an intense love-hate relationship with this lifestyle I’ve dug myself into. Think I’m getting a little bit better with the balance even if school isn’t really giving me an option. Got a load of work I need to keep catching up on if I don’t want to disappoint my professors. We’ll survive somehow. Here take a quick batch of Puzzle doodles k bye

[elryuse]

Post Ceremony Awards

Giselle X Male Reader

Tags : Idol Girlfriend, Kissing, Cowgirl, Lots and lots of Sex, Temptation

Words : 3,2k

This is a Commission for My Friend @dav1233555 on Tumblr. Hope you liked it buddy.

The soft hum of the city outside was drowned out by the faint sound of heels clicking against the marble floor. Giselle’s delicate yet hurried footsteps echoed through the empty hallway as she approached the door, her heart racing with a mix of exhaustion and excitement. The award show had been a whirlwind—flashing cameras, blinding lights, and the constant pressure to smile even when her feet felt like they were about to give out. But now, all she wanted was him.

Y/N.

Her safe haven. Her escape from the chaos of being an idol. She fumbled with the keys for a moment, her hands trembling slightly from the adrenaline still coursing through her veins. Finally, the door clicked open, and she stepped inside, greeted by the warm, dim lighting of their shared apartment.

“Y/N?” she called out softly, her voice carrying a hint of playfulness as she kicked off her heels and let them clatter to the floor. There was no immediate response, just the faint sound of sizzling coming from the kitchen. A smile tugged at her lips as she padded toward the source of the noise, her hips swaying ever so slightly in her form-fitting dress.

There he was, standing by the stove, his back turned to her as he stirred something that smelled absolutely divine. His broad shoulders relaxed under the casual shirt he wore, and Giselle couldn’t help but admire how effortlessly handsome he looked, even in such a simple moment. She leaned against the doorway, crossing her arms as she watched him, a mischievous glint in her eyes.

“Did you miss me?” she purred, her voice dripping with teasing affection.

Y/N turned around, his face lighting up the moment he saw her. “Of course I did,” he said, setting the spoon down and wiping his hands on a towel. “How was the show? You look… stunning, as always.”

Giselle smirked, stepping closer until she was just inches away from him. “It was exhausting,” she admitted, her fingers lightly trailing down his chest. “But seeing you makes it all worth it.”

His breath hitched as her touch sent a shiver through him. He could feel the heat radiating off her body, the intoxicating scent of her perfume enveloping him. Before he could say anything, she closed the distance between them, her lips crashing against his in a kiss that was equal parts desperate and passionate. Y/N’s hands instinctively found her waist, pulling her closer as their tongues danced together, exploring every inch of each other’s mouths.

Giselle moaned softly into the kiss, her fingers tangling in his hair as she pressed herself against him. The fabric of her dress felt too constricting, too much of a barrier between them. She pulled away just enough to whisper against his lips, “I need you. Now.”

Y/N didn’t need to be told twice. In one swift motion, he lifted her off her feet, her legs wrapping around his waist as he carried her to the living room. He carefully set her down on the couch, his eyes never leaving hers as he began to undress her, peeling away the layers of designer fabric until she was left in nothing but her lingerie. His gaze darkened with desire as he took in the sight of her, his hands trembling slightly as he traced the curves of her body.

“You’re perfect,” he murmured, his voice rough with need.

Giselle’s cheeks flushed at the compliment, but she didn’t have time to respond before he leaned down to capture her lips once more. His hands roamed over her skin, igniting a fire that burned hotter with every touch. She arched her back as his fingers dipped beneath the lace of her panties, finding her already wet and eager for him.

“Y/N,” she gasped, her nails digging into his shoulders as he teased her sensitive folds. “Please…”

He didn’t make her beg for long. With a growl of approval, he stripped off his own clothes, his erection springing free as he positioned himself between her thighs. Giselle reached down to guide him inside her, her breath hitching as he slid into her warmth, filling her completely.

They moved together in perfect harmony, their bodies melding as if they were made for each other. Giselle’s head fell back against the couch as Y/N’s thrusts grew more frantic, each one sending waves of pleasure through her entire body. She wrapped her legs tighter around him, urging him deeper, harder.

“Fuck, Y/N,” she moaned, her voice breaking as the pressure built inside her. “Don’t stop… please don’t stop…”

He buried his face in the crook of her neck, his breaths coming in ragged gasps as he chased his own release. The sound of their skin slapping together filled the room, mingling with their muffled cries of pleasure. And then, with one final, powerful thrust, they both came undone, collapsing into each other’s arms as the world around them faded away.

For a moment, there was nothing but the sound of their breathing and the steady rhythm of their hearts beating in sync. Giselle nuzzled against Y/N’s chest, her fingers tracing lazy patterns on his skin as she basked in the afterglow.

“Let’s stay like this forever,” she whispered, her voice barely audible.

Y/N chuckled softly, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. “As long as you want, princess.”

But just as they were beginning to drift off, the sound of the front door opening jolted them awake. Giselle’s eyes widened as she realized what time it was—the rest of the members must have come home.

“Shit,” she hissed, scrambling to grab her dress and pull it back on. Y/N quickly followed suit, throwing on his clothes just as Karina, Winter, and Ningning walked into the living room.

Their eyes immediately zeroed in on the disheveled state of the couch—and the unmistakable flush on Giselle’s cheeks.

“What were you two doing?” Winter asked, her tone laced with amusement as she raised an eyebrow.

Giselle laughed nervously, trying to play it cool. “Nothing! Just… catching up after the show.”

Karina and Ningning exchanged knowing glances, clearly not buying it, but they didn’t push further. Instead, they plopped down on the other side of the couch, stealing bites of the food Y/N had prepared earlier.

As they ate and chatted, Giselle leaned back against Y/N’s chest, feeling more content than she had in weeks. Despite the chaos of her life, moments like this made everything worth it.

But deep down, she knew this wasn’t the end. Not even close.

And as she glanced up at Y/N, a sly smile playing on her lips, she wondered just how far they could take things…

Giselle’s fingers traced lazy circles on Y/N’s thigh under the table as the other members chatted animatedly about the award show. Winter was recounting a particularly funny moment backstage, her laughter echoing through the room, while Karina and Ningning were fully immersed in their video game, controllers clicking furiously.

But Giselle couldn’t focus on any of it. Her mind was still replaying the way Y/N had touched her earlier, the way his hands had lingered on her skin, possessive yet tender. She glanced at him from under her lashes, her lips curving into a mischievous smile.

He knew exactly what she wanted.

“Hey,” she whispered, leaning closer to him, her breath warm against his ear. “I think I left something upstairs… come help me find it?”

Y/N raised an eyebrow, clearly catching her drift. He glanced around the room—the girls were too preoccupied to notice anything amiss. Without a word, he nodded, standing up casually.

“Be right back,” he said, though no one was really paying attention.

Giselle followed him up the stairs, her heels clicking softly against the wooden steps. The moment they reached the hallway, she grabbed his hand and pulled him into the bedroom, shutting the door quietly behind them.

The air between them crackled with tension as she turned to face him, her back pressed against the door. Her eyes darkened, her lips parting slightly as she tilted her head up to meet his gaze.

“You owe me,” she murmured, her voice dripping with promise. “From earlier.”

Y/N didn’t need any more encouragement. He stepped forward, closing the distance between them in one swift motion. His hands found her waist, pulling her flush against him as his lips crashed onto hers. The kiss was hungry, desperate, filled with all the pent-up frustration they’d been holding back downstairs.

Giselle moaned softly into his mouth, her fingers tangling in his hair as she deepened the kiss. She could feel his hardness pressing against her, and it sent a jolt of heat straight to her core.

“Fuck me,” she breathed when they finally broke apart, her chest heaving. “Right now.”

Y/N didn’t hesitate. He spun her around, pinning her against the door as his hands slid down her body, gripping her hips tightly. His lips trailed down her neck, leaving a trail of fiery kisses that made her gasp.

“Quiet,” he warned, his voice low and rough. “Unless you want them to hear.”

Giselle bit her lip, nodding as she reached behind her to undo the clasp of her dress. It fell to the floor in a pool of silk, leaving her in nothing but her lingerie. Y/N’s eyes raked over her body, and she could see the hunger in his gaze.

“Take it off,” she demanded, her voice trembling with anticipation.

He obeyed, his hands trembling slightly as he unhooked her bra and slipped off her panties. She stepped out of them, completely bare before him, and the look in his eyes made her shiver.

“You’re so fucking beautiful,” he muttered, his hands roaming over her curves, savoring every inch of her.

Giselle reached for his belt, fumbling with the buckle as impatience gnawed at her. She needed him inside her, now. When she finally freed him from his pants, she gasped at the size of him, her body already aching with need.

“Hurry,” she whispered, turning around and bracing herself against the door.

Y/N didn’t need to be told twice. He lined himself up with her entrance, his hands gripping her hips as he pushed into her slowly, letting her adjust to him. Giselle’s nails dug into the wood of the door as she let out a stifled moan, her body trembling with pleasure.

“Don’t hold back,” she breathed, pushing back against him. “Fuck me like you mean it.”

That was all the encouragement he needed. Y/N gripped her hips tighter, thrusting into her with a force that made her cry out. Each movement was deep, deliberate, hitting all the right spots as her moans grew louder, more unrestrained.

“Shh,” he reminded her, though his own breathing was ragged, his self-control slipping.

But Giselle couldn’t help it. The pleasure was overwhelming, each thrust sending waves of ecstasy through her body. She bit down on her hand to muffle her cries, but they still escaped, soft and breathy, filling the room.

Downstairs, Karina paused mid-game, glancing up at the ceiling. “Do you guys hear that?” she asked, her brow furrowed.

Ningning tilted her head, listening. “Sounds like… I don’t know. A cat or something?”

Winter snorted. “In this apartment? Doubt it.”

Karina shrugged, returning to the game. “Probably just the neighbors.”

Upstairs, Giselle was far past caring. She rocked back against Y/N, matching his rhythm as their bodies moved together in perfect sync. The sound of skin slapping against skin filled the room, mingling with their gasps and moans.

“Harder,” she begged, her voice barely above a whisper. “Please.”

Y/N obliged, his thrusts becoming rougher, more urgent. He leaned over her, his chest pressed against her back as his lips found her shoulder, biting down lightly. The sensation sent a jolt of pleasure through her, and she arched her back, pushing herself further onto him.

“God, you feel so good,” he groaned, his voice strained.

Giselle smiled to herself, reveling in the way he was falling apart for her. She reached back, tangling her fingers in his hair as she guided him closer, urging him on.

“I’m close,” she whispered, her walls tightening around him. “So close…”

Y/N kissed her neck, his breathing uneven. “Come for me,” he urged, his voice thick with desire.

And she did. Pleasure ripped through her body like a tidal wave, her vision going white as she cried out, muffling the sound in her hand. Y/N wasn’t far behind, his thrusts growing erratic as he buried himself deep inside her, spilling himself with a groan.

For a moment, they stayed like that, their bodies pressed together, both trembling from the intensity of it all. Then Y/N pulled away slowly, helping her turn around to face him.

Giselle looked up at him, her cheeks flushed, her lips swollen from kissing. She reached up, brushing a strand of hair from his forehead as she smiled.

“You’re amazing,” she whispered, her voice hoarse.

Y/N chuckled, pressing a soft kiss to her lips. “You’re not so bad yourself.”

They stayed there for a few minutes, basking in the afterglow, until the sound of laughter from downstairs brought them back to reality.

“We should probably get dressed,” Y/N said reluctantly, though his hands still lingered on her waist.

Giselle pouted playfully. “Do we have to?”

He laughed, shaking his head. “Unless you want to explain why we’re naked when they inevitably come looking for us.”

She sighed, stepping away from him to retrieve her dress. As they got dressed, she couldn’t help but glance at him, a sly smile playing on her lips.

“You know,” she said, smoothing out her dress, “we could always sneak back up here later…”

Y/N smirked, pulling her into his arms once more. “Are you trying to kill me?”

Giselle giggled, leaning up to kiss him again. “Maybe.”

The soft hum of conversation and clinking silverware filled the apartment as the group gathered around the dining table. Y/N had outdone himself with the meal—sizzling bulgogi, steaming kimchi jjigae, and perfectly seasoned japchae adorned the table. The aroma wafted through the air, mingling with the lingering tension that seemed to hang just beneath the surface. Giselle sat close to Y/N, her fingers occasionally brushing his under the table, a secret smile playing on her lips whenever their eyes met.

Karina was the first to break the casual chatter. She leaned forward, her chopsticks hovering over her plate, her sharp gaze darting between Giselle and Y/N. “So… how long have you two been sneaking around?” she asked, her tone light but laced with suspicion.

Giselle froze mid-bite, her eyes widening for a split second before she recovered, her lips curling into an amused smirk. She set her chopsticks down deliberately, leaning back in her chair. “Sneaking around? Who said anything about sneaking?”

Winter snorted, rolling her eyes. “Oh, come on, Giselle. We’re not blind. You’ve been glowing like a neon sign since we got home. And don’t think we didn’t notice how long it took you two to ‘help clean up’ earlier.”

Ningning giggled into her hand, clearly enjoying the sudden shift in the room’s energy. “Yeah, and let’s not forget the very loud thud against the bedroom door. What were you doing, redecorating?”

Y/N felt his cheeks burn, but Giselle remained unfazed. She tilted her head, her expression turning almost predatory as she glanced at the others. “Well, if you’re so curious, why don’t you just ask? I’m sure Y/N wouldn’t mind sharing… details,” she purred, her voice dripping with mischief.

The table fell silent for a moment, the weight of her words sinking in. Karina’s jaw dropped slightly, while Winter’s eyes narrowed, a flicker of something unreadable crossing her face. Ningning choked on her sip of water, coughing loudly as she tried to regain her composure.

“Sharing?” Karina finally managed, her voice higher-pitched than usual. “You mean… you’d actually… share him?”

Giselle shrugged lazily, reaching for her glass of wine. “I mean, if the offer’s tempting enough, I might consider it.” She took a slow sip, her eyes never leaving Karina’s. “But let’s be real—you’d have to give me a damn good reason. And maybe throw in a bet or two. I’m not giving him away for free.”

Y/N nearly choked on his food, coughing loudly as he tried to process what he’d just heard. He turned to Giselle, his brows furrowed in disbelief. “Uh… excuse me? Am I a prize now?”

She reached over, patting his cheek affectionately. “Of course not, baby. You’re my prize. But if they want a taste…” She trailed off, her grin widening as she looked back at the others. “Well, let’s just say they’ll have to work for it.”

Winter leaned forward, her elbows resting on the table, her gaze locked on Giselle. “What kind of bet are we talking about here?”

Giselle tapped her chin thoughtfully, her eyes sparkling with mischief. “Hmm… how about this? Whoever wins the next round of whatever game we decide gets to spend some… quality time with Y/N. Nothing too crazy, of course. Just enough to make it interesting.”

Ningning let out a squeak, her face turning bright red. “Giselle! You can’t be serious!”

“Oh, I’m dead serious,” Giselle replied, her tone unwavering. She leaned back in her chair, crossing her arms over her chest. “But hey, if you’re not up for it, no hard feelings. More for me.”

Karina’s eyes narrowed, a competitive glint flashing in them. “Fine. Let’s do it. Winner takes all.”

Winter smirked, nodding in agreement. “You’re on. But don’t cry when I win.”

Ningning hesitated for a moment before raising her hand tentatively. “Um… can I sit this one out? This feels… weird.”

Giselle chuckled, shaking her head. “Nope. You’re in this now, Ning. No backing out.”

Y/N stared at the scene unfolding before him, feeling both flustered and oddly intrigued. He cleared his throat, trying to interject. “Uh, shouldn’t I have a say in this?”

All four pairs of eyes turned to him, and Giselle grinned wickedly. “Don’t worry, babe. You’ll love it. Trust me.”

Before he could respond, Karina stood up, slamming her hands on the table. “Alright, enough talk. Let’s play. But I’m warning you, Giselle—I’m not losing.”

Giselle’s grin widened, her confidence unshaken. “We’ll see about that.”

The group quickly cleared the table, moving to the living room where they decided on a game of truth or dare—with a twist. Each dare would be designed to push boundaries, and every truth would dig deep into secrets none of them had dared to share before.

As the game began, the tension in the room grew thicker, the air electric with anticipation. Y/N found himself caught in the middle, his heart racing as he watched the girls strategize and flirt openly, their competitive sides taking over.

When it was Winter’s turn, she spun the bottle, and it landed squarely on Y/N. Her lips curled into a sly smile as she leaned forward. “Truth or dare?” she asked, her voice low and sultry.

Y/N swallowed hard, glancing at Giselle, who simply raised an eyebrow, encouraging him to choose. “Uh… dare?”

Winter’s smile widened. “Good choice. I dare you to kiss the person you find most attractive in this room… besides Giselle.”

The room went silent, and Y/N’s eyes darted between Karina, Winter, and Ningning, his pulse quickening. He could feel Giselle’s gaze on him, watching intently, waiting to see how he’d handle the situation.

He took a deep breath, his mind racing. The stakes were high, and the tension was palpable. As he moved closer to make his choice, the sound of Giselle’s voice cut through the silence, smooth and commanding.

“Careful, Y/N. Choose wisely…”

- To Be Continued -

[ennabear]

Modern!Loser Sevika that starts e-dating reader and is soooooo nervous during their first meet up (and cums almost instantly when you guys are just making out) WHO SAID THAT!!!!

ok writing this in headcanon-ish format because i’m lazy and eepy but i needed to drop everything and write this… i hope you enjoy hehehe i had so much fun writing it loser!sevika’s so adorable… 18+

ok so modern loser!sevika would definitely be one of those older butches who are always active on tumblr. she’d post usually just whatever she thinks is cool, like pictures of the sunrise or good food that she’s eating or whatever she’s smoking. occasionally a selfie if she thinks she looked good.

i feel like her blog wouldn’t be toooo nsfw, but she’d occasionally reblog a horny textpost or something just because why not, and she likes the diversity and acceptance that tumblr offers which is why it’s her only/one of the very few social medias she uses.

i think it would start with her one day posting a picture of her holding one of the blunts she was smoking, and some other horny lesbians would find it and start flirting with her in her anonymous asks. they’d be talking about how much they want her thick fingers stuffed inside of them, and she’d just reply with “awww really 🥰 i didn’t know you guys liked my hands haha lol 😅” or something along those lines.

but in real life? she’s sweating and shaking and quivering when she reads these asks. holy shit, she’s never imagined that people could feel this way about her, and it’s really starting to do something to her.

maybe after this she’d start posting slightly more suggestive posts, nothing too crazy because she doesn’t wanna embarrass herself or get banned so she just sticks to ab/arm pics, hand pics, fit checks in just a sports bra and sweats, etc. and she’d start to get more popular because everyone aimlessly scrolling through the lesbian tag would have to stop and admire her. how couldn’t you?

so imagine you coming into the equation now, probably posting things more similar to her (although definitely more horny, because i know the nature of all of you reading this…) and she’d giggle when she realizes that you two are in the same/similar areas.

awww and omg. she’d develop such a crush on you in an instant. i imagine that she’d send you an ask and be like “omg i’m in the same area!! haha 🤘” and from then on, just stick to liking your posts and viewing from afar.

butttt imagine you posting some sort of lewd, like maybe a strap/bulge pic or a lingerie pic (or whatever you prefer, maybe just a selfie if you’re not comfortable with that, just use your imagination here) and she’d be like 😳 oh 😳 wow 😳 i get it now 😳 i get the horny anon craze 😳 and she’d slide into your inbox like “i think you’re cute 😅” NOT on anon because she doesn’t know how to figure that out, too blind to notice the “ask anonymously: on/off” button…

and eventually you two would start dming/texting, either right after that or after a series of events that followed it, and you’d constantly be chit chatting and in each others asks being silly and horny for each other <3. sev would develop real feelings SO. FAST. because it’s been a while since she’s talked to someone in this situationship position, and she’s so delighted that there’s someone like her who isn’t too far away from her.

so one day you’d “ask her out” officially, agreeing on a place closer to your town to meet up and hang out, but really your plan is to make a real move on her because you’re head over heels for her too. she’d make the hour/few hour long drive over to see you because of course she would.

after arriving and seeing you, she’d almost fucking keel over with how good you look in person. she’s suddenly wondering if you meant everything you reblogged and posted about wearing your strap/not wearing panties on first dates “just in case” and oh lord is it making her WET.

but the two of you would have a lovely day!! you’d take her out to lunch at your favorite spot and have a nice chat in person, hold her hand across the table as you talk, maybe take her on a hike or to a park or somewhere cute and hold her hand the whole time, and then take her shopping or to your place or to a movie and hold her hand the whole time, and then out to dinner at some fancy expensive place and hold her hand the whole time.

and did i mention that you’re holding her hand? because it’s all she can think about, and she’s so worked up from just that alone that she feels those familiar horny butterflies fluttering in her stomach again.

at the end of the night, she’d get sad that she has to leave you already, but feels better that the drive really isn’t that bad and she knows that she can see you more often now. and is she also a little sad because you didn’t kiss her? yeah. but will she make the first move herself? absolutely not.

little does she know that you actually have more planned, and the fact that you randomly remembered this secluded little lookout’s existence is not a coincidence, you actually planned to take her there.

so you’d park and just stare at the view out of your front windshield, being warmed by the heater inside of the car and listening to her favorite music on the radio because you love her so much that you’d willingly give up your aux privileges. and then you’d lean in toward her and give her a little kiss on the cheek and whisper in her ear how much you’re grateful that she’d drive all this way just to see you.

her thighs would rub together and she’d squirm and her eyes would grow wide as she realizes that you’re so close to her and that there’s no one around, and then you’d press your lips to hers and it’s like she’s in a different universe.

she’d instantly press her lips harder against yours as you both fight for dominance (you win) and her pretty brown lipstick would get smeared all over your face and she’d giggle when she pulls back and sees it all over you. and god she looks so fucking cute when she giggles like that, and she tastes so good, and she’s so soft and nervous and malleable under your touch.

you only get a good 10 minutes of making out before you’re tugging her to the backseat and fucking her until the windows fog and it’s so hot in there that you’re gasping for air together. and yes, you do ask her to spend the night at your place after that because were you really gonna watch her leave after that? of course not.

and then imagine making things official with her, all of her anons would be like “😒 wow… so happy for you…” and she’d be like “thank you so much!! aww you guys are so sweet hehe i love my girlfriend!!!” and after that she’d either delete tumblr or only go on there to like and reblog your posts, maybe even tagging you in something sweet or horny if she’s online that much.

[genshinluvr]

The Nation of War

Pairings: Various Genshin Men x Isekai'd!Reader

Summary: Upon stepping foot in the Nation of War, Aether and Paimon offers to give you and the men a tour around the beautiful nation. However, during the exploration/tour of the nation, you all meet Aether and Paimon's friends from the Pyro Nation. One friend in particular captures your attention— and it is not human. Also, are you allowed to have... pets (?) at the abode?

Note: Since the little Tepetlisaur Whelp we meet in Genshin doesn't have a specific given name, I decided to name the Saurian "Dakarai" for this fic and any future fics he makes an appearance in. I named my Saurian companion because it's fitting, and I don't have the heart to change it to something else. If you're not a fan of the name I picked for this fic (and future fics if he makes an appearance), then feel free to change it! :> Anyway! I don't post anywhere else but on Tumblr (Genshinluvr), Ko-Fi (also Genshinluvr/Aaliah_exo), and AO3 (Aaliah_exo).

Warnings: None that I know of 🤔 Natlan characters are probably out of character. Zhongli and Neuvillette being jealous again (hehehe)

Word Count: 5.4k

“Remember to stick close to us so you won’t get lost. We’ve been to Natlan many times and would hate for you to get lost.” Paimon says, looping her arms around yours as you, Paimon, Aether, and the others enter the Nation of War. 

Is Paimon referring to the time when you got lost in Fontaine and Wriothesley and Neuvillette were the ones who found you? If so, she didn’t need to call you out like that. Sometimes, your sense of direction is great! Other times… not so much, but not once has it gotten you killed!

You look at your surroundings in awe. Natlan is a beautiful nation— wait, is that a dinosaur? You snap your neck to look at the others, pointing at the tall creature with eyes the size of saucers. Aether chuckles and pats your head. “I had the same reaction when I first saw the long-necked rhino,” Aether says.

“Is there a reason why you brought us to Natlan? Not that I’m complaining, I’m rather curious.” Diluc says, crossing his arms over his chest as he takes a step closer to you in case a Fatui Agent decides to attack.

You rub the back of your neck before raising your hand. “It’s my idea to go to Natlan, actually.” After hearing countless stories about Natlan from Aether and Paimon, it makes you want to visit the nation. A nation that has roaming dragons— also known as Saurians, how can you not want to visit?

“What are we going to do in Natlan aside from exploring?” Gorou mutters, looking at his surroundings curiously, his ears twitching at the littlest unfamiliar sounds around him. 

Aether and Paimon shrug while you continue to look at the wild Saurians with excitement. There are so many of them roaming around! And some of them have human companions by their sides! From a distance, a small roar pulls you out of your thoughts. You turn to see a small Rex Lapis-looking creature charging at your group at full speed.

Itto stretches his arm out in front of everyone, glaring at the approaching creature. “Don’t worry, everyone! I’ll protect us all from this tiny menace!” Itto announces.

In the blink of an eye, the creature burrows into the ground, disappearing from sight. Itto blinks and lets his arm fall at his side, confused about where the little creature has disappeared off to. The small creature hops from the ground, roaring almost cutely. It waddles towards Aether and Paimon, bouncing with excitement.

You cover your mouth, suppressing a squeal. “Who is this cutie?!” You coo.

Paimon props her hands on her hips and floats beside the adorable creature. “[Y/N], everyone else, meet Dakarai! He is our,” she gestures to her and Aether, “traveling companion! He’s a Tepetlisaur Whelp.”

Dakarai, the Tepetlisaur Whelp, looks at you curiously, tilting his head to the side. You quietly squeal, taking a few steps toward the Saurian and holding your hand out for him to sniff. Is that what you’re supposed to do when introducing yourself to a creature? Dakarai leans toward your hand, sniffing your hand while gazing at you curiously.

“You’re so cute, Dakarai,” you whisper, continuing to examine the adorable Tepetlisaur Whelp. “Can I bring you home with me?” You pet the adorable Saurian as he excitedly roars.

Your heart feels like it can burst at any second because of how cute Dakarai is. He’s half your size, so you don’t think you can sneak him back to the abode if you did try to bring him back. Are you even allowed to take Saurians out of Natlan? It’s not a crime, is it?

Thoma sighs, crossing his arms over his chest while shaking his head, pouting. “I can’t believe that I’m jealous of a Saurian,” Thoma mutters, chuckling to himself.

Ayato chuckles, watching you and Dakarai interact with each other. The Tepetlisaur Whelp examines you from head to toe curiously, shuffling from side to side to get a 360 view of you. You did the same, cooing over the littlest thing Dakarai does. You’re almost in tears over how cute the Tepetlisaur Welp is, holding back the urge to bring him into a crushing hug and take him back to the abode. 

Ayato leans towards Thoma, not taking his eyes off you and Dakarai, whispering, “We should keep an eye on [Y/N] in case they try to Saurian-nap Dakarai.”

Thoma hums, nodding in agreement with the Kamisato Heir. Dakarai turns around, wiggling his tail, when you notice the orange-yellow handkerchief wrapped around it. Paimon and Aether tell you the backstory of the said handkerchief. 

After explaining the backstory, the journey to the Stadium of the Sacred Flame continues. Of course, Dakarai tags along. Instead of being by Aether and Paimon’s side, Dakarai sticks by you while you continue to fight the urge to snatch him up.

Kaeya chuckles, shaking his head while he watches you pet the top of Dakarai’s head. “It looks like another dragon has captured [Y/N]’s heart,” Kaeya comments, glancing at Zhongli and Neuvillette from the corner of his eyes (eye?) with a teasing smile.

Zhongli and Neuvillette huff, looking away from Kaeya’s teasing gaze. Dakarai is adorable, yes, but is he powerful enough to protect you from harm's way? Probably, but Zhongli and Neuvillette digress! There’s a dark aura surrounding both Zhongli and Neuvillette as they watch you fawn over Dakarai. You stop in your tracks and snuggle the Tepetlisaur Whelp after getting approval from Dakarai. Dakarai is more than happy to be on the receiving end of your affection, wrapping his arms around your waist while you hug him tightly. 

Thunder cracks in the distance as dark, ominous clouds roll in, replacing the once-sunny sky. Everyone freezes while Dakarai tilts his head, trying to process where the sound is coming from. 

You slowly release the Tepetlisaur Whelp, looking at your beloved boyfriends worriedly. “I didn’t know it was going to rain today,” you say, propping your hands on your hips as you listen to thunder clapping in the distance. 

Rain has yet to pour, thank the Archons, but you and everyone else still have a long way to go. You turn to Neuvillette, who has a stoic look on his face. You two make eye contact, and he quickly diverts his attention elsewhere. You frown and look at Zhongli, who shakes his head with disapproval before walking towards you.

Zhongli sighs, wrapping his arms around your shoulders. “No need to fret, dearest. I came prepared for situations like this,” Zhongli says, pulling out an umbrella.

Dakarai roars softly, staring at the umbrella curiously. Zhongli holds the umbrella towards Dakarai’s direction, watching the Tepetlisaur Whelp sniff and analyze the contraption. After sniffing and analyzing the contraption, Dakarai takes a step back and looks up at Zhongli. Zhongli smiles and presses his hand on Dakarai’s head, gently petting the creature. You squeal, pulling a Kamera out of your satchel, and quickly snap a photo of Zhongli and Dakarai together. Zhongli and Dakarai freeze when the light flashes, blinking at you.

Childe clears his throat, wraps his arms around your waist, and rests his chin on your shoulders. “Snookums~! I understand you love taking pictures of things that make you smile, but I think we should continue our journey to the Stadium of the Sacred Flame, or else we’ll get rained on,” Childe says, gesturing to the even darker sky. 

Scaramouche rolls his eyes, muttering, “For once, I agree with this idiot.”

Childe ignores Scaramouche’s comment and proceeds to drag you towards the Stadium of the Sacred Flame. Everyone follows closely behind, and of course, Dakarai is by your side. Occasionally, you will bring your Kamera out to snap pictures of nearby Saurians from a safe distance. As much as you want to run up to one and snatch one up for yourself, seeing the fully grown Tepetlisaurs scares you, and you don’t want to be tossed around in front of your beloveds and the Tepetlisaur Whelps.

“Aether! Paimon! Is that you!?” A girl hollers from a distance.

Aether stops in his tracks and turns to see two girls and a boy barrelling toward him and your group. The two girls stop in front of Aether and Paimon, tackling them into a hug. Aether and Paimon greet the two girls while you and the other men awkwardly stand there.

An obnoxious voice interrupts the sweet reunion, “Aw, how sweet! A reunion between friends from afar! Barf!” You turn to see a small floating creature— what is he exactly?— approaching your group with a bluish-black-haired male following behind. 

The man rolls his eyes, giving your group an almost sympathetic look. “Ignore Ajaw. This is how he usually is,” the man says, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Oh? I’m surprised you have this many friends, Aether. Is it hard to tolerate someone as annoying as him?” Ajaw asks, snickering.

Everyone stares at Ajaw, unsure of what to say. You, on the other hand, look at Ajaw from head to toe. For someone as small as him, he sure is bold. You’re not sure how the man beside the small creature tolerates that much annoyance. Noticing your stare, Ajaw flies towards you, floating really close to your face.

“Hey, you! You look interesting out of the bunch— or should I say, you look boring compared to the rest of the group! Ha! What makes you so special, huh?” Ajaw asks, flying around you like an annoying fly. “Everyone has a vision, minus yourself! Heh, I bet you’re not—” 

“Alright, that’s enough, Ajaw,” the bluish-black-haired man interrupts the creature. 

The creature— Ajaw, gapes at the man before sputtering incoherent nonsense, thrashing his tiny arms around. Without a single word, the man brushes Ajaw away, sending him into the air before disappearing. Everyone shields their eyes, searching for the flying menace, only to no avail. 

The man sighs, shaking his head. “I apologize for Ajaw’s behavior. I would say that he wouldn’t do it next time, but…” he trails off, rolling his eyes. 

Paimon clears her throat, nervously laughing. “Let me introduce you all to each other! This can take some time.”

Both Aether and Paimon take turns introducing each person to their friends from Natlan. Ajaw definitely doesn’t need an introduction, and thankfully, he’s not present throughout the entire introduction. The introduction itself doesn’t take as long as you thought it would. However, after the introduction, Ajaw did return, much to your dismay.

“We can show you around Natlan if you’d like! Although I’m not sure where you guys are headed to…” Mualani trails off, stroking her chin.

Venti shrugs his shoulders. “We’re okay with going anywhere! We initially plan on going straight to the Stadium of the Sacred Flame! But we’re open to going anywhere since Windblume has been taking a lot of pictures!” Venti says, throwing his arm over your shoulders.

Kachina’s eyes light up, excitedly running up to you. “Oooh! What did you take pictures of? Can I see?” Kachina enthusiastically asks, her eyes sparkling with curiosity. 

You smile and happily show the collection of images you took while exploring the Pyro Nation. Most of the pictures are of Saurians— Tepetlisaur Whelps, to be more specific. They’re just so cute that you couldn’t resist taking photos of them from a safe distance. One photo that stands out from the rest (your favorite photo) is a selfie of you and Dakarai. 

Kinich looks up only to see you attempting to carry the Tepetlisaur Whelp. Dakarai squirms in your arms, looking around quizzically. You place Dakarai on the ground, panting. Archons, it’s like holding a mini boulder. 

Mualani giggles and covers her mouth. “It looks like you’re incredibly fond of Tepetlisaurs! If you’d like, I can show you a spot where many of them are usually gathered,” Mualani offers, nudging you lightly with her elbow. “The skies have cleared up, so they should be around!” 

Your eyes light up. “Ooh! Can you?” You squeal.

Mualani and Kachina giggle, grabbing hold of your wrist before dragging you in the opposite direction with the others watching. Xiao looks over at Zhongli and Neuvillette from the corner of his eyes; the two men look displeased. The once-gray skies have cleared up, but it looks like the rain clouds will be showing up in a moment.

The group follows you, Mualani, and Kachina to where the Tepetlisaur site is located. Once everyone arrives at the site, there’s a lot of Tepetlisaur and Tepetlisaur Whelps roaming the area, minding their business and not knowing what’s to come. 

Mualani turns to you. “You can admire them from a distance! I don’t recommend getting close to them because they can and will attack you if you come any closer,” Mualani instructs.

You nod, pull your Kamera out, and start taking pictures of the Tepetlisaur and their Whelps. Neuvillette watches you take pictures of the Saurians, crossing his arms over his chest with a sigh. The light gray skies gradually become darker as time goes by. Wriothesley clears his throat, patting the Iudex’s shoulders.

“It’s alright, Monsieur Neuvillette. I’m sure [Y/N] doesn’t love the Tepetlisaurs as much as they love you,” Wriothesley reassures the Chief Justice of Fontaine. 

Neuvillette ignores Wriothesley’s comment and continues to watch you fawn over the Saurians. Neuvillette glances at Zhongli, who seems content compared to himself. Zhongli looks at the sky, then at Neuvillette. The two of them stare at each other, communicating through body language. 

You squat on the ground, taking various images of the Tepetlisaurs. While you’re distracted with capturing images of the adorable Saurians, you fail to notice one Tepetlisaur Whelp approach you from behind. The small creature tilts its head to the side, looking at you from head to toe with curiosity. 

The Tepetlisaur Whelp lets out a small roar, startling you. You turn to see the Tepetlisaur Whelp gaze at you, waddling from side to side to get a better look at you. You’re not sure if you should be afraid or coo at the Whelp. The small roar of the Tepetlisaur Whelp catches the attention of other nearby Whelps. They slowly migrate towards you, making you a little anxious. It’s not that you’re afraid of them potentially attacking you, but you’re more worried about the adult Tepetlisaurs charging at you for being in the same vicinity as their babies. 

Tighnari’s ears perk up with alertness, looking at the others worriedly. “Oh, dear. We need to get them out of there, or else they’ll become an easy target for the adult Tepetlisaurs,” Tighnari says.

“I think it’s a bit too late for that,” Cyno mutters, gesturing towards your direction.

Everyone’s heads snap in your direction only to see a hoard of Tepetlisaur Whelps surrounding you. Thankfully, none of the Whelps are attacking you or charging at you. They stare at you curiously, some roaring cutely and others shuffling around you. Dakarai waddles toward you, only for you to realize that Dakarai is a bit bigger than the other Whelps. 

You squat, holding your hand out. The Tepetlisaur Whelps sniff your hand, blinking at you. One Tepetlisaur Whelp, in particular, nudges its head against your leg. You stare at the Saurian, wondering if it's trying to attack you. It didn’t seem hostile— or, at least to you, it seems harmless. 

You randomly pick up one Tepetlisaur Whelp, holding it out in front of you. You and the Whelp stare at each other without saying a word. The Tepetlisaur Whelp blinks at you, tilting its head to the side curiously. You softly squeal, refraining from hugging the adorable Saurian. The Tepetlisaur Whelp tilts its head back and lets out a soft roar. 

You turn to look at the others, nearly dropping the Saurian in your hands. Everyone has their weapons drawn, and you realize you have a shield around you— thanks to Zhongli. You place the Tepetlisaur Whelp back on the ground, unsure of what to do next. Do you continue taking pictures of the Tepetlisaur Whelps, or do you run for your life in case the adult Tepetlisaur charges toward you? 

Kaveh clears his throat, cupping his hand around his mouth, shouting, “[Y/N], darling, slowly make your way towards us. Try not to draw attention to yourself!”

“Since you decided to become a megaphone, I highly doubt the Tepetlisaurs will be paying attention to [Y/N] after that,” Al Haitham comments, shaking his head.

You slowly walk toward your beloveds and new friends without looking back to see if the Whelps are watching you. Dear Archons above, you sure hope the adult Tepetlisaurs didn’t notice the swarm of Whelps around you. Who knows what will happen if the Whelp’s parents notice their babies being so close to a human?

Once you stand in front of your beloveds, Paimon, and new friends, you notice they’re not looking at you anymore. In fact, they’re looking behind you and at the ground. The shield around you disappears, and you feel something nudge at your legs. Just as you’re about to look down, Mualani launches at you.

“I don’t recommend looking down! While the Saurian is nudging at your legs, it’s completely harmless! However, our time is up! I want to show you another area that has two other types of Saurians! Have you ever heard of Koholasaurs and Yumkasaurs?” Mualani asks, looping her arms around yours as she quickly pulls you in the opposite direction.

You shake your head, allowing Mualani and Kachina to pull you wherever they desire. They both lead you to the top of the mountain, showing you the beautiful landscapes Natlan has to offer. While being able to view almost the entirety of Natlan is a wonderful opportunity, you can’t help but feel nauseous after seeing how high up you all are. 

This new area is different from where you were prior. There’s a sizeable body of water where the Koholasaurs and Yumkasaurs are roaming around, living in harmony. There are a couple of Whelps scattered in some areas of the Teticpac Peak, though you hardly see any of the Koholasaur Whelps. The Koholasaurs remind you of sharks but with arms and legs and are oddly muscular. 

“Are you sure it’s safe to be in this area?” Baizhu asks, pulling out his first aid kit just in case.

Kachina giggles and nods. “Of course it is, Doctor Baizhu! As long as we keep our distance and don’t come too close to the Whelps, we should be safe here!”

“That doesn’t sound as reassuring as you want to make it,” Heizou laughs nervously, rubbing the back of his neck.

Capitano sighs, shaking his head. “I’ll keep watch of [Y/N] as they take pictures of the landscape and creatures.” Capitano doesn’t leave room for protests as you nod, grabbing hold of Capitano’s hands and pulling him to an area where you can take pictures of the Saurians without disturbing them. Capitano stands close to you, scanning the surrounding area.

Kinich eyes Capitano before turning to look at everyone, who seems to also be on edge, while the other three look pretty content with the Harbinger being so close to you. Kinich sighs, eyeing the Harbinger from head to toe.

“You don’t have to worry over anything, boy. With Capitano around, [Y/N] is safe.” Pierro says gruffly. 

Kinich analyzes each man in the group— every man has their eyes glued on you and nothing else. Of course, they will check the surroundings to make sure nothing is creeping up on you and Capitano (mainly you), but Kinich can’t put his fingers on it. Kinich clears his throat to grab the group’s attention but to no avail. These men are not taking their eyes off you at all, and seeing how they immediately drew their weapons when the Tepetlisaur Whelps surrounded you says so much without being blatantly obvious. 

“What is [Y/N] to all of you?” Kinich asks, finally grabbing everyone’s attention.

Kazuha chuckles, crossing his arms over his chest. “[Y/N] is someone very precious to us all. We love and cherish them and will protect them at all costs,” says Kazuha, the apples of his cheeks turning bright pink.

Kinich raises his eyebrows at Kazuha’s answer. Kinich understands what Kazuha is implying, but he doesn’t want to make an assumption out of an innocent answer. But he is right, though, right? 

Noticing the strange look on Kinich’s face, Dainsleif sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose. “[Y/N] is our partner,” Dainsleif says, almost rolling his eyes.

Ajaw’s jaws drop at Dainsleif’s response, eyes nearly bugging out of his head. It’s almost comical to everyone. Mualani and Kachina glance at each other, shrugging their shoulders. Hey, if it works, it works. Who are they to judge? 

Kinich strokes his chin. “How does that work? Aren’t there issues with sharing a partner?” Kinich mutters, raising his eyebrows at the men before him.

Albedo shakes his head in response to Kinich’s question. “We learn to make it work between us all. There are many things to learn and get used to, but it works. We all share something in common aside from our love for [Y/N],” Albedo explains, crossing his arms over his chest. 

“What’s so appealing about someone so… bland? There’s nothing special about them at all!” Ajaw snarks.

Pantalone chuckles, smiling at Ajaw. If people look closely, there’s a dark aura surrounding Pantalone as he tries to remain calm and polite. How much longer can he keep up his facade with a little shithead like Ajaw around? The little floating menace to society constantly insulting you just for existing has been getting on everyone’s nerves since the meeting. 

“I would keep my comments to myself if I were you, Ajaw. You disrespecting someone important to us will get you nowhere,” Pantalone says, clenching his jaws.

Ajaw bursts out laughing, relishing the fact that he manages to get on every person’s nerves. All he has to do is insult you and question these men’s choices. Kinich sighs and apologizes to the men for Ajaw’s behavior before temporarily banishing Ajaw.

“If you cannot keep your companion’s mouth shut, I think it’s best for you to keep your distance from [Y/N]. We wouldn’t want someone like Ajaw near them,” Xiao states, crossing his arms over his chest while staring at Kinich with disapproval. 

The tension is cut by the sound of you gasping. Everyone’s heads snap in your direction to see you and Capitano surrounded by Koholasaur and Yumkasaur Whelps. You look at the others with wide eyes; they can’t tell whether it’s from fear or excitement. You mouth something to them, but they can’t decipher what you’re trying to communicate. 

“Can someone tell me if I’m hallucinating? Those creatures behind [Y/N] are Tepetlisaur Whelps, correct?” Lyney asks, turning to the men.

Dottore turns to Mualani and Kachina, raising his eyebrows at the two girls. “I thought Tepetlisaurs aren’t in this particular area,” He says, crossing his arms over his chest.

You and Capitano are surrounded by Tepetlisaur, Koholasaur, and Yumakasaur Whelps— though the Tepetlisaur Whelps outnumbers the other Saurians. The Tepetlisaur Whelps roars around you, waddling and gazing at you curiously. So far, none of them have yet to attack you and Capitano. If they were to try to attack, you know Capitano would not spare any of the Whelps, no matter how cute they are. 

Paimon strokes her chin, scrutinizing the Tepetlisaur Whelps. “That’s odd. If this area doesn’t have Tepetlisaurs around, then how did these little guys end up on the Teticpac Peak?” Paimon exclaims, propping her hands on her hips as she bobs up and down in the air.

Capitano looks down at you after feeling you lightly poke his arm. “Yes, what is it, [Y/N]?”

You clear your throat. “You’re not going to attack the Whelps, are you? They’re little babies, and I don’t think they can cause that much bodily harm, right?”

Capitano sighs. “I will not harm them, [Y/N]. However, if they inflict harm on you, I have no other choice but to protect and defend you from any harm heading your way,” Capitano replies.

While you want to protest against hurting the Whelps, you can’t help but feel giddy over the fact that Capitano is devoted to protecting you. Heat rushes to your cheeks as you look away from Capitano, feeling his eyes burn holes into the back of your head. Dakarai roars softly, tugging on your pants while looking up at you with curiosity. Now that you have Dakarai beside you, you realize that he’s a little bit bigger than the other Tepetlisaur Whelps. 

Dakarai roars again, almost like he’s asking you if you’re okay. You smile and squat in front of him, gently petting his head. Dakarai nuzzles into your hands, closing his eyes with contentment. 

“I’m alright, Dakarai. There’s no need to worry about me, little fella.” You reassure the Tepetlisaur Whelp.

Dakarai roars softly, flapping his arms around. The other Saurian Whelps around you watch the interaction between you and Dakarai curiously. To them, it’s strange to see a species like them interact with a human— one they are not companions with— so effortlessly. A human such as yourself interacting with an overgrown Tepetlisaur Whelp is foreign to them. Usually, a human with no vision or Saurian companions steer clear. 

A much smaller Tepetlisaur Whelp waddles up to you and stands beside Dakarai, softly roaring to get your attention. The Whelp tilts its head at you, blinking. You and Dakarai trade looks with each other before you slowly reach forward to pet the Tepetlisaur Whelp. The Saurian closes its eyes and leans into your touch. You lightly scratch behind the ears, watching it start kicking its feet— almost like you found the perfect spot to itch. You hold back a squeal, watching the feet kick become faster before it tips over and stumbles into your arms. 

Zhongli hums, stroking his chin. “The Tepetlisaur Whelps must have followed us to the Teticpac Peak by burrowing under the ground the entire way here from the previous location,” Zhongli murmurs, watching you interact with the Whelps that surround you and Capitano. 

Kachina giggles, clapping her hands. “That’s correct, Mister Zhongli! And given by the body language and expressions of the Whelps, they seem to really like [Y/N]!” Kachina squeals, grinning from ear to ear. 

The Whelps that surrounds you and Capitano ignores the towering figure of the Harbinger. Their focus is on you, staring at you expectantly. You make sure to give each Saurian Whelps attention, not wanting any of them to feel left out. The Yumkasaur Whelp purrs as you pet its head, rubbing its body against your arms, reminding you of kittens. Kittens do that, and so do dogs. As for Yumkasaur Whelps, they remind you of kittens with their mannerisms. They hiss when they see something unfamiliar or try to intimidate something they deem a threat to their safety. 

While most are hesitant to be around you (who can blame them?), their worries are quelled when you respect their space after one of them hissed at you. Capitano isn’t too pleased that you’re friendly with the Whelps, but hey, as long as they don’t hurt you, he will tolerate the (admittedly) cute interaction between you and the Whelps. 

“Do you guys have any pets by any chance?” Mualani asks, not taking her eyes off you.

Aether shakes his head. “We don’t, but we do have a Paimon,” Aether replies, gesturing to the floating girl beside him.

Paimon gasps and exclaims, “Hey!” She stomps her feet in midair, glaring at her blond companion, “Paimon is not a pet!”

“That’s why he said ‘a Paimon,’” Venti interjects, chuckling at the fuming girl.

Rapid footsteps approach the group, grabbing their attention. You stand before them with one Tepetlisaur Whelp dangling from one arm and a Yumkasaur Whelp on the other, smiling at them eagerly. The Koholasaur Whelp is draping around your neck, resting on your shoulders while gazing at familiar faces with curiosity.

You hold up the Whelps, gazing at your beloveds with sparkles in your eyes. “Can we keep them?” 

“Absolutely not,” Neuvillette immediately shoots down your question. Neuvillette stares down at the Whelps in your arms (and around your shoulders), a dark aura surrounding him.

The once blue skies in the Teticpac Peak gradually turn into an ominous dark gray, thunder cracking in the distance. Mualani, Kachina, and Kinich rub the back of their necks as they watch the scene in silence. You pout and hold them close to your face, giving Neuvillette and the other men puppy dog eyes.

Wriothesley chuckles, rubbing your head affectionately. “I don’t know about that, dollface. Do we have the space for Saurians to roam in the abode?” Wriothesley asks, propping his hands on his hips and raising his eyebrows at you.

“But they’re so cute!! Look at their little faces!” You coo, snuggling up against the Saurian Whelps. “How can you say no to them?” You pout.

Childe hums, stroking his chin. While the Saurian Whelps are adorable, letting them reside in the abode isn’t the best idea. It’s not like Childe doesn’t want to deal with dragons— he already has to deal with Zhongli and Neuvillette. What’s the difference?— he doesn’t want those little scaled creatures to steal your attention away from him! 

“They are adorable, but…” Childe trails off, reaching forward to pet your head. “If we let them live with us, the other two dragons will become jealous and territorial.” Childe gestures to both Zhongli and Neuvillette behind him. 

“If Zhongli represents Tepetlisaurs and Neuvillette represents Koholasaurs, then who represents the Yumkasaurs?” Lyney asks, scanning the crowd of men around him while stroking his chin and tapping his right foot on the ground.

Cyno points at Tighnari. “I believe Tighnari is the perfect representation of Yumkasaurs if you ask me.”

Tighnari sighs, rubbing the bridge of his nose. Tighnari’s not one to play into this shenanigan, but he can see it. Mualani clears her throat, gesturing to Kinich without making it obvious (she failed; Kinich notices her gestures almost immediately). Kinich rolls his eyes, shaking his head. Kinich’s not sure if he wants to get involved after seeing how overprotective these men can become when it comes to you. Besides, he doesn’t see you in the same light as the other. 

“A dragon would never explode, but a dino might…” Cyno mutters, pressing his lips into a thin line to suppress the shit-eating grin slowly appearing on his face. 

Tighnari groans, shaking his head. “Cyno, please, let’s not joke about this right now,” Tighnari pleads. 

You look at Zhongli and Neuvillette, giving them puppy dog eyes as you continue to get the Whelps cling to you. Zhongli and Neuvillette scrutinize the creatures surrounding you, their arms crossing over their chests— their chests puffing out, almost to assert dominance over the Saurians. 

“Dearest, as much as I hate to decline your requests, I believe it is not a good idea to take Saurians outside of Natlan,” Zhongli says, hesitantly reaching forward to pet the Tepetlisaur Whelp in your arms.

Your eyes water for a dramatic effect, forcing your bottom lips to quiver. “But Zhongli, look how cute they are! They even followed us here!” You’re not hurt or offended over the fact that you’re not allowed to bring Saurians back to the abode. You’re only sad because the Whelps are incredibly adorable, and you can’t bring them back because they’re wild creatures, and you can’t have them as a companion.

Neuvillette huffs, looking away. “You have us. Why would you need another draconic companion?” Neuvillette mutters.

Dakarai roars, almost agreeing with Neuvillette. You place the Whelps on the ground, making sure to pet Dakarai’s head before turning to Neuvillette and Zhongli— both visibly pouting. You grab both their hands and gently squeeze their hands, giving them a reassuring smile.

“I’ve never seen them this pouty before,” Thoma mutters to Xiao.

Xiao rolls his eyes, shaking his head. “You should see those three alone. It’s almost pathetic.”

Neuvillette and Zhongli glare at Xiao and Thoma, shutting the two up. Zhongli and Neuvillette proceed to drag you away, with Dakarai and the rest of the men trailing after you three. So much for getting a tour around the Nation of War. Maybe next time, the tour won’t be interrupted by Saurian Whelps crowning you as their leader (and you trying to bribe the men to let you bring Saurians to the abode). 

Note: Before I typed this fanfic out, I was planning on having the reader be the creator, but I ended up changing my mind. For those who have been asking me in the inbox about Kinich being part of the harem, here is your somewhat answer! He made an appearance! However, I'm not too sure if I'll add him to the harem. As long as he's an adult, then yes, there's a chance he will be added to the harem. The only issue is my portrayal of Ajaw because I don't have Kinich, so there's a possibility of him and Ajaw being out of character. Anywho! To all my new and returning readers, keep in mind that I ONLY post on my Tumblr (Genshinluvr), Ko-Fi (Genshinluvr/Aaliah_exo), and my AO3 (Aaliah_exo)! Nowhere else except Tumblr and AO3!

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[httpiastri]

this christmas – op81

ski slopes, mistletoes, and the guy you've been crushing on for years – what could be better?

genre: fluff, mutual pining, friends to lovers!au, smut (just one scene in the end, you can skip it if you want)

pairing: female leclerc!reader x oscar piastri

other characters: lando norris, charles leclerc, george russell & mundt, alex albon & lily muni he, pierre gasly & kika cerqueira gomes

warnings: mentions of alcohol, smut, not much more i think

word count: 13.8k (LMAO)

requested?: yes!!

author’s note: hello hello!! a lot to say about this one. first of all, thank you to @be-your-coffee-pot for this request, and i apologize for not getting to it earlier than now. for everyone’s knowledge, the request was sent in to me in august, so… yeah. i know it’s not exactly what you asked for, but i hope you like it anyway <3

second of all, i feel pretty happy about some of these scenes, but some… not so much. some of the fillers have parts that i really despite, but i don’t really have time to rewrite since christmas is like 2 days away lol. also, my description of the reader’s relationship to charles is not my best work, idk why he barely even appears, and i’m also not sure why logan isn’t in this...

third of all, my red divider things make my posts disappear from the tags, so i didn’t put any in this time. it looks bad, i know, but idk how to fix it. if anyone does, please let me know. :)

and lastly: i only proofread this whole thing once yesterday, but tumblr was being a bitch and i got so frustrated that i do not have the energy to proofread it again. so please, if you happen to find any spelling or grammar mistakes, i would be very thankful if you let me know. <3

hope you all enjoy !!

december 12th, 2:11pm

oscar has always loved winter.

it started in his childhood; the holiday films he'd seen as a child, the way it always seemed to magically snow right on christmas eve really started something in him. it hadn't been common for him to get snow back home in australia when he was younger but once he moved to the england, he got to experience it quite a lot. playing, fighting and just existing in the snow was like an unfilled childhood need that stayed with him until his older years.

he loved spending christmas at home with his family, but ever since he got to experience real christmases with snow, trees and cozy darkness, he craved it more than he craved lying on the beach in his swimming trunks.

so when he was asked to come along to the swiss alps for a vacation during the winter break, he packed his bags right away. he and lando just happened to book the same flight, and they both arrived at the airport around noon, getting into a cab to take them to the accommodation together.

when they arrive outside the cottage, oscar is in shock; it is enormous. he had imagined just a tiny, cute little house – not that he was sure how seven drivers and a couple of girlfriends would fit in a "tiny" house – but he was far from right.

him and lando are the second pair to arrive, just about an hour after alex and lily, who are the self-proclaimed 'hosts' as they took care of all of the booking and planning.

"we thought that one would be lando's room," alex starts, pointing down the hallway. "since it's far away from everyone else, and i'm sure we all would prefer to actually get some sleep during the night time."

"oh, shut it..." lando mumbles, shoving his friend on his shoulder.

"this one can be yours, oscar," lily says, moving in the opposite direction and gesturing to another room. then, she points at the one right next to it. "and this one has two beds, so it's for charles and his sister."

oscar's ears perk up. "y/n is going to be here?" he speaks almost took quickly, making the other three turn to look at him.

"oh, i thought you knew..." lily has an apologetic look on her face.

"i must've forgotten," oscar answers, though he's completely sure no one told him about it. there's no way he would forget you. "don't worry, it's cool."

the hosts continue to move down the hallway, and the mclaren boys are just about to follow along when lando elbows oscar's side playfully. "it's cool?"

oscar raises an eyebrow, trying to keep calm. "what?"

"the youngest leclerc coming along?" a grin takes up lando's entire face. "it's just cool? is she cool, or-"

"goodbye, lando." oscar shakes his head, darting towards alex and lily again. he takes a few deep breaths, hoping the blush he can feel spreading across his cheeks isn't too obvious.

unfortunately, lando didn't need to see the blush to know. he has caught his teammate staring at you too many times over the season, and he is fully aware of the way oscar always is suddenly interested in the conversation whenever you're the topic of discussion.

lando knows everything. and this christmas, he's going to be the best wingman the world has ever seen.

‎‎ ‎‎

december 13th, 12:53am

it's past midnight when you and charles arrive. your flight had been delayed, and then the gps had stopped working all of a sudden. and then, charles just refused to drive any faster than 30 km/h, saying it was too dangerous. as if he didn't drive cars in ten times that speed without even flinching.

you assume the whole house is sleeping already, so you and charles both sneak in as quietly as you can. someone – lily, assumably – has left you a note on the front door, guiding you to your shared room. it all goes smoothly – until charles trips over the doorframe, dropping his bag onto the floor as he tries not to fall down. the sound rattles through the hallway and you flinch, stopping in your tracks as you hope no one's woken up. but just a second later, the door opposite yours opens and a head sticks out.

oscar.

your heart softens and your shoulders relax when your gaze meets his. your soft smile is mirrored on his face, the sleepiness evident in his droopy eyes and the way strands of his bedhead point in every direction.

he looks like he's just about to say something when charles speaks up. "sorry, man! were you asleep?"

he walks up to the australian, giving him a firm handshake and a pat on the back. oscar shakes his head. "i was up reading," his huskey accent is like music to your ears. "i thought i heard some rustling out here, and then..." he nods his head toward the suitcase on the floor.

your brother laughs as he steps back, walking into the room with the "leclerc" sign. "well, i'll let you get back to that then," he says, picking up the bag from the floor and looking back one last time. "good night."

and then, you were just two.

you and oscar stand still for a moment, just watching each other. then, he opens up his arms, welcoming you into his embrace. you step forward and drape your arms around his shoulders as his wrap around your waist, and you let out a content sigh. he's warm, comfortable, and the way he squeezes your body has your mind spinning.

"it's been a while," he says when you part from the hug, a soft grin playing on his lips.

"like a month," you chuckle, crossing your arms over your chest.

"a month has never felt this long before."

you're not sure when your crush on him started forming.

as someone who's always been interested in racing, even in the series your brother isn't in, you've kept up with most results and championships – including oscar's seasons in f2 and f3. after seeing oscar, the unstoppable rookie who completely crushed his season in f3, you made sure to keep an eye at him in f2 the following year. and it's easy to say that you liked what you saw. especially in jeddah.

you'd meet him occasionally around the paddock the following year, just giving him a sweet smile and a quick greeting as if it was no big deal. but you always found yourself squealing on the inside and taking deep breaths to stay calm whenever you made eye contact with him.

then came 2023 and his debut in f1. yet again, he exceeded everyone's expectations, performing better than most drivers who'd been on the grid for years. with his permanent role on the grid, he was around more – and so were you. it wasn't uncommon for the two of you to bump into each other, around the paddock or during media days or in afterparties, and now you tried not to shy away.

talking to oscar was always simple. he was easygoing, it all seemed effortless, and you felt more relaxed. before you knew it, you could chat about racing strategies and tyre management for twenty minutes before a member of the mclaren staff interrupted you, rushing oscar away somewhere. you got to know each other slowly throughout the season, though never really going further than some friendly conversations, but you felt happy knowing that you'd taken the first step towards getting closer to him.

"so..." he starts. "you've been good?"

you nod. "yeah, a lot of studying but it's been alright. you?"

"yeah."

and there it is again, that slightly awkward silence. it's natural, you haven't seen each other since that night in abu dhabi and you're both a little unsure of where you stand after it. the tension is so thick that you could cut through it with a knife, and you kind of want to escape the whole situation. but then he speaks up.

"hey, i just wanted to-"

he's interrupted by the call of your name, and when you turn around, charles is leaning against the doorframe, eyes hazy. "are you going to sleep tonight or what?" he asks, dragging a hand through his already messy hair.

you feel a weight lift off your shoulders – and at the same time, your stomach tightens in disappointment. you nod at your brother, looking back at oscar to give him a wave and a "sleep well", before joining charles in your shared room.

oscar stands still in the corridor for a moment, before sighing and slapping himself in his mind for being so awkward and messing up this opportunity. but on the other side of the door, you stand still too as you watch your brother jump onto his bed, taking a deep breath to clear your mind.

you're just thankful the room is so dark that he can't see your ever-reddening cheeks.

‎‎ ‎‎

december 13th, 10:24am

despite the never-ending pitter-patter of your heart as you went to bed last night, you could fall asleep quite quickly, seeing as you were utterly exhausted from traveling. breakfast this morning feels like you and charles have just been reunited with your childhood friends after being kidnapped for years; not like you had just gone a few weeks without seeing each other. everyone runs around hugging, chatting about how much they've missed each other and how great this trip will be.

"did you get new highlights?" kika asks you, sliding into the seat next to you by the long table as you stuff a piece of bread into your mouth. the room is a combination of a kitchen and a dining hall, with a big cooking area and a glass wall giving the dining area a beautiful view of the mountains outside. in the middle stands a long table with enough seats for all of you, filled with fresh pastries and other breakfast goods to celebrate the first day of the trip. "or is it just the light?"

"just the light," you answer, shooting her a smile as you pick up your cup of coffee.

"oh my god, i almost forgot to ask you," lily starts and places her elbows on the table, her face resting in her hands. "what happened to that guy from raya you were talking to? did you end up going out?"

oscar is sitting a few seats down the table, pretending to be immersed in a conversation with some of the other drivers about the last few races of the season, while actually just doing his best to listen in on the conversation you're having. when he hears alex's girlfriend mention raya, his ears perk up and his breath gets caught in his throat. a million thoughts instantly crash into his mind.

she's seeing someone? how could i not know this? she's on raya? is she actively looking for a partner? who is this guy they're talking about?

he coughs and tries to act normal, shaking off the uncomfortable feeling passing through his body. he soon hears the sweet sound of your wholehearted laughter, and he almost smiles instinctively at it, before he can remind himself that lando's story about las vegas isn't exactly a smiley matter. "you're not going to believe this, i have the best story," you say in-between fits of giggles. "i met up with him for some drinks, and guess what he said? that he has a foot fetish and has dreamed about me caressing his face with my feet." all of the girls squeal and explode with laughter, making some of the boys flinch and look over to see what all the commotion is about. "so, safe to say, we never met up again. and i haven't wanted to go out with anyone else from there, either. i have a feeling they're all just creeps."

"hey, don't lose hope!" kika says while elbowing your side, but her actions are too soft, forcing you to fold over as an uncomfortable feeling spreads through your body. however, a burst of laughter spills past your lips. kika immediately holds her arm back, laughing along. "crap, i'm sorry! i totally forgot how ticklish you are."

you shake your head, your hand landing on her shoulder. "no worries," you tell her. "but, i haven't lost hope. i just don't think my soulmate is lurking around on raya with the foot fetishists."

oscar feels his shoulders relax again, feeling alright with focusing back on the boys' conversation now that he knows you in fact aren't seeing anyone.

maybe he has a shot, after all. as long as he doesn't talk too much about your feet.

‎‎ ‎‎

december 14th, 3:09pm

lando thinks he's so smart.

when he tells oscar to go ask if you'd like to have some of the gingerbread cookies he's bought, it's the third time today he has forced some kind of interaction between the two of you. he is sure that the more time that the two of you spend with each other, the more likely you will be to stop pining and just confess already.

but this time, oscar glares at the brit. "why don't you ask her yourself?"

"because you know what room she's in," lando hums back, reaching into the cupboard with some groceries. "i keep getting lost, the house is too big. plus, i'm busy." he motions to the half-empty grocery bag on the counter.

oscar lets out a sigh, but nods. "how can you memorize all tracks on the calendar, but you get lost in a cabin?" he asks rhetorically, whilst turning around and making his way down the hallway towards your room.

it's not that oscar doesn't enjoy 'accidentally' being forced into talking to you; it's the extreme lack of discretion lando is showing that makes him annoyed. it makes oscar seem like he's the one coming up with silly excuses to talk to you, and he doesn't like how it makes him look. he'd rather be seen as chill, laidback, someone who doesn't force things. he doesn't want you to catch on too early and reject him.

your voice echoes a 'come in' when he knocks on the door to your bedroom, and he pushes the door open just a little to reveal you sitting on the bed, a thick blanket wrapped over your shoulders. a grin spreads across your lips when you make eye contact with him. "hi," you say, placing the book you were reading on the bedside table.

"hey," he answers, stepping inside the room. "i... lando bought some gingerbread cookies, and we were going to make some hot chocolate, and..." his voice trails off as his eyes wander down your body, taking in the christmas sweater you're wearing and the fuzzy socks covering your feet. he smiles absentmindedly at the sight, loving how cozy you seem, and wishing he was sitting right there with you, sharing the blanket.

you nod, understanding him despite his lack of words. "i'll be right there."

oscar gives you a thumbs up – one he then facepalms himself for when he's left your room – before moving towards the kitchen again. but when he walks into it, he sees something hanging from a lamp. he stops in his tracks. "no way..."

festive cookies aren't the only thing lando bought when he went to the local supermarket. he also got the ultimate tool for securing his master plan – a mistletoe.

he doesn't know how, but he's planning to make sure you and oscar meet underneath it at least once before the holidays are over. there's no way you'll both be able to avoid it all week.

of course, lando isn't the only one rooting for the two of you. most of the other drivers know too – how can they not notice the glances you share and the way you light up when someone mentions the other in a conversation? – and most of them are in on his plans. charles is probably the only one in the house who's still oblivious to your and oscar's pining, and lando thinks that he might interfere with the matchmaking if he figures something out, so the brit keeps quiet.

oscar wants to pull the mistletoe down, rip it apart and throw it in the trash, but he refrains. something inside him tells him this might actually work out in his favor – and he decides to trust his gut this time.

‎‎ ‎‎

december 15th, 2:01am

sleeping can be tricky, especially when your brother is snoring loudly in a bed just a few meters away from you.

who even decided to put him and you in the same room?

when you've been tossing and turning to no avail for about an hour, you decide it's time to do something, anything, to hopefully get a little tired again. a glass of warm milk never hurt anyone, did it?

you make your way to the kitchen, pour yourself a glass of milk and put it in the microwave, before turning to look through the windows.

the view of the mountains is breathtaking. there is an untouched, thick layer of snow covering the area, with new flakes still falling. the sun set long ago, but the snow makes it all seem light. the lake below you is just barely visible by now, almost completely coated in snow.

it's completely serene, and you find yourself getting lost in the scenery. however, you're shaken out of your trance when you hear steps behind you. when you turn around, your eyes find someone standing just a few meters away, barely visible in the dark.

you jump in your place and clutch your chest in shock, not expecting anyone else to be up at this hour. when the person steps into the light of the little kitchen lap you had turned on, you relax instantly. "holy shit, oscar," you breathe. "you nearly scared me to death."

"i'm sorry," the australian chuckles. "i didn't know how to approach you without scaring you..."

"what even are you doing up?" you question, crossing your arms over your chest as you lean back against the counter.

"i was just reading in my bed when i heard your door opening, and then footsteps, so..." he trails off when his eyes wander out towards the living room, seemingly just as taken by the sight as you were just moments ago. "i wanted to make sure everything was okay."

"well, everything is okay, so..."

there's some kind of awkwardness hanging in the air. it's not only because of the obvious uncertainty of what to say or do in this situation; it has more to do with the fact that this isn't the first time that the two of you have found yourselves this close with this much tension, all alone at night. sure, it's a lot like the night of your arrival here, but another memory springs to your mind, too.

just under a month ago, following the after-party in abu dhabi, oscar had accompanied you back to the hotel when you started getting too tipsy to keep yourself up on the dance floor. your brother had been nowhere in sight, so oscar took it upon himself to help you out, draping an arm across your waist before walking you all the way to your hotel room. and when you'd arrived in the dimly lit corridor, you'd turned up towards him to thank him, accidentally brushing your nose against his as you did. both of you had broken out in giggles, neither especially sober, but you stayed close – and when the laughter settled, you just watched each other. when his gaze had flickered between your eyes and lips, your breath hitched in your throat, the anticipation growing stronger. you had leaned in even closer, your eyes fluttering closed-

but just as your lips were about to brush his, you had been interrupted. a door a few meters away had opened and the two of you jumped apart, watching as your brother stepped out and exclaimed that he had been wondering where you ended up. oscar had wished you both a good night before hurrying off, the embarrassment of almost getting caught by his friend being too much for him to handle.

you just hoped oscar had been too drunk to remember it, because otherwise, things were bound to get quite awkward. you didn't want him to act differently around you just because you have feelings for him.

thankfully, he hasn't said or done anything to make you think he does remember it.

as you're thinking back to that night in abu dhabi, you nearly get your second heart attack when the microwave goes off with a loud beep. you scramble to turn it off and take out your milk, almost burning yourself on the hot glass in the meantime.

oscar watches you with an amused grin before he forces his gaze off you, eyes wandering over to the windows again. "quite the view, huh?"

you look over your shoulder at the blanketed mountains. "yeah, it's breathtaking," you reply, before growing quiet.

he pauses for a moment, too. "there's something magical about this place. makes everything seem simpler, quieter..."

you nod. "yeah, it does."

something about the moment makes you realize that maybe, just maybe, the awkwardness between you and oscar isn't as insurmountable as you once thought it would be. the shared quietude is comfortable, and you feel at ease. he hasn't brought up abu dhabi – he probably won't, you feel – and maybe you could both just put it behind you and focus on enjoying your trip.

when you eventually get back in your bed, it's with the same kind of pitter-patter of your heart as when you and charles arrived in the cabin a few days ago. needless to say, the glass of warm milk probably isn't going to help.

‎‎ ‎‎

december 16th, 9:02pm

the mistletoe has moved.

when you first noticed it the other day, it was hanging from a kitchen lamp. and now, it's in the doorframe leading into the living room.

you're planning on avoiding it at all costs, not wanting to slip up and accidentally get under it with the wrong person. or the right one, for that matter. the awkwardness of kissing your crush in front of friends and family would be too much to handle.

some others seem to have the exact opposite attitude towards the decoration, though. kika and pierre can be found by it about ten times per day, and alex and lily have no issues sharing a few kisses whenever they "accidentally" pass it.

no matter what, lando has a mischievous grin whenever anyone mentions it, or even walks near it.

his grin stays on when he decides to let himself be in charge of the outing you all have to the christmas tree farm nearby. the farm is too big and would take too long if everyone was going to look at every tree, so lando divides everyone into groups of two based on who they're standing next to as you walk past the gates.

what a coincidence that you're standing right next to oscar when he says this.

lando ushers the two of you off to the rows with quite tall, pre-decorated trees. "so," oscar starts as you both stop in front of a tree with white lights and ornaments hung all over it. "what do you think about this one?"

"well, it's lovely," you say, scanning it thoroughly. "but isn't the true test how well it fits into the living room?"

he nods, despite his confusion, and he shoots a curious glance your way. "and how do we determine that?"

with a playful grin, you hold up an imaginary measuring tape, pretending to size up the tree with a critical eye. "i'm trying to figure out if it fits this corner best, or..."

he follows your gaze, realizing the tease in your words. "i think maybe it's better in the other corner," he hums and points to the side as you turn a little.

"exactly."

lando never inserted himself into a group; he's too focused on watching the two of you share a lighthearted laugh at the situation. though his mistletoe back in the cabin might still have a trick or two up its metaphorical sleeve, he is already proud of his matchmaking antics.

and, he is sure you'll both crack. it is just a matter of time.

‎‎ ‎‎

december 17th, 1:43pm

"i never thought skiing would be this hard," you groan as you step into a cottage, the warmth enveloping you and beginning to defrost you instantly.

oscar laughs at the exasperated tone in your voice. "this was just the kids' slope, you do remember that, right?" you stick your tongue out at him, slumping down on a bench by a table. "you just wait before you do some real skiing..."

you had never skied before today. oscar had, but he said it was too long ago and that he needed an easy start. plus, he couldn't just leave you all alone in the children's slope without an instructor.

you'd fallen over at least five times, despite the fact that the slope was practically flat. thankfully, oscar promised to buy you some hot chocolate in a cottage café to cheer you up.

when he comes back from the cashier carrying two big, steaming cups of chocolate, you've regained most of the feeling in your fingers again. the hot piece of ceramic almost burns your skin, but you think it's worth it; you need the sugar and you need it now.

"you know what the worst thing is?" you ask, bringing the cup up to your face with both hands. you start sipping on the drink and oscar glances at you with a questioning look as he slips down next to you on the bench. "carrying those goddamn skis with me. not only does it suck to actually ski, but dragging them all the way from the rental shop…"

"if it's that much of a bother, i can carry them for you."

"and carry your own too?" you scoff, watching him flinch as he burns his tongue on the drink. "you're not that strong."

he lets out a groan. "you're not even strong enough to carry your own, so you shouldn't say anything."

"i can carry them!" you protest, shooting him a glare. "i just don't want to. two very different things."

you both go silent momentarily, too busy focusing on how good it feels to no longer be frozen to the marrow. the cabin is filled with people; kids running in circles around the tables, soon to be tired again after the initial sugar shock from their afternoon snack; a group of older ladies gossiping and enjoying getting some rest just like you; and some young adults in the far corner are already busy dancing on the tables with their after-ski drinks in their hands.

"you know what? i changed my mind," you tell him, scooting away from him a little and placing your skiing boot on the bench. "these things. they're the worst."

you start to unclasp the boot, sighing in relief as you finally tug the shoe off your foot, throwing it onto the floor. you've only worn it for about an hour, but you can already feel the bruises beginning to form. you're just about to reach down to undo the other boot, too, when oscar reaches towards your foot.

your eyebrows shoot up as he takes it in his hands, pulling the foot into his lap. and then, his fingers begin to wander up and down your foot and ankle, giving you soft squeezes and pressing down on the spaces where he thinks the boot has squeezed you the most. you hold back a pleasured sound, seeing as it would sound way too inappropriate right now, but oscar subconsciously takes note of how you're getting flushed because he soon looks up at your face.

"is this okay?"

you swallow down the lump in your throat, nodding quickly. "y-yeah… just don't tickle me..."

when did things get so intimate? mere minutes ago, you couldn't think about anything other than how you were so cold your nose was going to fall off. but now, you can't stop your eyes from following his long, sleek fingers, thinking about how good they feel and imagining how good they would feel somewhere else-

"give me your other foot."

you're thankful that he interrupts your train of thought before your mind wanders too far.

compose yourself, woman.

"don't tell me you have a foot fetish, too," you tease, turning around so that you can place your other foot on the bench too. he lets out a hearty laugh, swiftly undoing your other boot before letting it drop to the ground.

"oh, shut it. do you want a massage or not?"

you shoot him pout, giving his shoulder a thankful pat before taking your cup in your hands again. you focus on the drink, watching how the steam rises and the marshmallows melt. you can't look over at him anymore, scared of your cheeks growing too red and your face giving away your feelings.

the bell by the door rings behind you, and you look towards it out of habit. and in comes alex, george, lily and carmen, laughing and chatting loudly about the black slope they just went down. oscar doesn't seem to notice, but you hastily pull your feet from his lap, sitting down properly – unfortunately making eye contact with alex as you do. he leans forward to lily, whispering something in her ear, and you watch as her eyes dart to you and a smirk grows on her lips.

shit.

the clicking of her boots against the stone floor meets your ears and oscar turns his head at the sound, suddenly realizing why you withdrew from him. "hey there," lily cheers, each of her hands landing your and oscar's shoulders. "what have you been up to?"

your eyes meet his briefly, before looking back up at lily. "just... drinking some chocolate..."

"oh, no skiing?"

"she crashed too much, i couldn't keep her out there and let her continue to embarrass me all day," oscar tells her and you shove his shoulder.

"do you mind if we join you guys?" george asks, coming around the table and not even giving you a second to think about it before he sets two cups of chocolate down on the table. the grin he's wearing only tells you one thing: alex told him already. carmen's lips show off a matching set.

"not at all..."

‎‎ ‎‎

december 18th, 10:32am

you huff as you slump down on the living room couch, your mood not even getting brought up by watching the newly installed christmas tree in front of you. you hadn't even been out skiing that much yesterday, yet every single inch of your body aches. not only do you have big, blue bruises on both of your hips due to the many times you've fallen onto the hardly packed snow, but every muscle screams with pain as you drape a blanket over your body. needless to say, you decided to stay at home today instead of heading out with the others for another round.

"are you sure you don't wanna come along?" kika asks as she enters the room, her pretty pink sunglasses perched at the top of her nose. the pout on her lips almost makes you doubt staying in, but when you move to sit up more straight again, you know you've made the right decision.

you nod, giving her a weak smile. "yeah, sorry."

"but oscar promised to come along?"

you freeze, your cheeks growing red as you hear her words.

did she know? about your feelings for him? did the others already tell her about the incident in the cottage yesterday? did they really interpret the situation that way?

"w-what?"

"oh," she chuckles at your reaction. "i just meant that he was so bad yesterday, so i thought that seeing him fall over a couple of times would be worth the pain."

"we're gonna trick him into going down a black slope with us," says pierre who walks into the room, arms lacing around his girlfriend from behind. "we'll send some clips."

you let out a breath of relief as they leave the room. maybe they don't know. maybe your secret will stay secret for a little longer.

the group leaves in pairs or trios and you tell them all goodbye from your place underneath the many blankets. everyone has left by now except for oscar, which confounds you since the others seemed to have so many plans for him. your confusion only grows when he steps into the living room without any skiing gear on, just wearing an oversized, cozy hoodie and a pair of sweats.

"why aren't you out with the others?" you question, your eyebrows raised at him.

"well," he sighs, flopping down next to you on the couch. "i can't find my helmet." when you shoot him a doubting look, he raises his hands defensively. "what?"

"i don't believe it."

"you don't have to, but it's the truth."

"how do you even lose a helmet? it's so big?" you scoff, crossing your arms over your chest. "i assumed you were used to keeping track of where your helmet is since if you don't have your helmet with you for races, then you can't race."

"i swear i put it on the drawer by the front door like half an hour ago. i don't understand what could've happened."

you have to give it to him; he is really doing his best to cover this up. you find it pretty obvious that he just doesn't want to ski because of what the others were planning to do to him. but maybe if kika and pierre hadn't spilled their plans already, you would've believed him.

"but hey," he says, bringing you out of your thoughts. "don't feel obligated to include me in whatever you were going to do here now that you finally have the house to yourself." he pushes himself off the couch, standing up and shooting you one last smile before turning to walk away. "i'll let you have some peace."

he takes a couple of steps towards the bedrooms, but then you get the idea. "oscar." he stops in his tracks, throwing a glance back at you. "i was planning on doing some baking, and…" you shuffle slightly in your seat. "it wouldn't hurt to have an extra helping hand."

"i'm a horrible baker, though."

"and i'm the best baker ever, so i guess we cancel each other out." you stand up from your seat, keeping the blanket wrapped around your shoulders as you make your way toward the kitchen. "let's go make some mediocre cookies!"

oscar shakes his head, grinning to himself as he follows behind you. this was definitely not what he had planned, but he sure is liking the way it's going.

‎‎ ‎‎

december 18th, 8:14pm

oscar had not been kidding when he said he sucked at baking.

he put in twice the needed amount of flour, and only half of the sugar. and as if that wasn't enough, of course the mistletoe had moved to the kitchen, making the whole situation quite uncomfortable as you both had to take strange routes while navigating through the kitchen to avoid it. not even your baking skills could save the cookies.

as an apology, oscar promised to buy some fancy gingerbread cookies tonight at the christmas market you'd all planned to go to in a nearby city. he was strongly set on going through with his promise, despite how many times you told him that it was alright and that they wouldn't taste as good as homemade ones anyway.

you've all been at the market for almost two hours now, but it feels like you've only gone about ten meters. your friends, mainly lando, george and alex, are stopping at every single shop and stand, making sure to check out all products and buying at least one thing in every store, no matter how long the line to the cash register is.

"lando-" you groan at the sight of the brit running into yet another store; this time, a shop filled with christmassy outfits for dogs. "he doesn't even have a pet…"

kika is grinning next to you, shaking her head. "he told me earlier today that he wanted to buy a present for roscoe if he got the chance," she says as most of the group joins lando. "makes more sense than when he bought that screwdriver thirty minutes ago just because it was green."

"the power of 'christmas colors', apparently," you hear oscar's voice from behind you, and you turn back to meet his eyes.

"well, i'm not surprised. just disappointed. and cold, and tired of standing still."

oscar points his head to the side, up the street. "i think i saw a stand a little further up that sells cookies, maybe they have some gingerbread ones."

you nod, a small smile entering your lips. "let's go check it out, then. kika, do you wanna come-"

you're cut off by the sound of pierre calling for his girlfriend, holding up a reindeer costume and blabbering on about how it would be perfect for her cousin's dog. "sorry guys," kika says before strutting off to her boyfriend.

you both shrug before walking down the street towards the stand oscar had spotted. the sugary scent of cookies meets your nose from far away, and your mouth waters at the mere thought of the sweets. when you arrive, a sweet old lady sitting behind the stand greets you and tells you all about the different cookies she's baked. gingerbread, sugar cookies with little candy canes, snowball cookies, and various traditional swiss cookies.

"would you like to have a taste, dears?" the lady asks, pointing her hand to a plate with samples. you and oscar take a gingerbread cookie each, popping it into your mouths.

"oh yeah, this is lovely," he says, looking like he's savoring every crumb.

"much better than ours," you answer, nudging his shoulder with yours. he gasps and places a hand on his chest, feigning offense.

you turn your attention back to the lady and telling her you'd love to buy a little box of cookies from her. oscar pays for them and she wraps the box in some pretty gift paper, handing it to you before you continue making your way down the street. the house walls and all trees are wrapped in christmas lights, some blinking in random colors and some with a soft glow of an elegant white. the streets are filled with people wearing santa hats, ugly christmas sweaters, and scarves so big half of their faces are covered. there's not a single frown in sight, the happiness and love so obvious you can almost see little hearts flowing above everyone's heads.

you glance into a couple of different stores as you stroll, stopping occasionally to check something out. when you reach a stand with different kinds of jewelry, something catches your eye: a golden necklace with a heart-shaped charm hanging from it. you carefully pick it up, your heart fluttering in your chest as you inspect it.

and when you look up at oscar from the necklace in your hands, he feels like the air is stolen from his lungs. your eyes are twinkling with happiness, outshining all lights in the entire christmas market. the excited smile on your lips is contagious, and suddenly, it's like the world around you has stopped and everyone else has disappeared. you're both just grinning at each other like two lovestruck fools, nothing in either of your minds other than the person in front of you. the sight of your rosy cheeks from the cold makes the butterflies in his stomach multiply by the second.

wow, he really is totally and fully whipped.

"really pretty," he finally gets out, unsure if he's talking about the necklace or the woman standing before him.

"pretty? it's gorgeous," you answer, eyes flickering back to the jewelry in your hand. "i adore it. how much is it?"

just as the guy in the booth is about to answer, you feel someone grab your free hand. "come on guys, they're closing down soon and we still have a bunch of shops to visit!" kika is pulling you along so fast you barely have time to put the necklace down.

lily notices the disappointment on your face and pats your shoulder. "we'll come back here sometime before christmas, don't worry."

lando shows you the christmas tree costume he bought as you wander down the market again, but oscar suddenly stops. "guys, i forgot my phone back at the cookie stand. keep walking, i'll catch up with you," he says, pointing behind him with his thumb and disappearing before anyone can say anything.

it's a good excuse, but you clearly see the outline of his phone in his back pocket as he hurries down the street.

‎‎ ‎‎

december 19th, 9:22pm

the days roll on with a gentle rhythm of shared glances and fleeting touches between you and oscar. unbeknownst to both of you, lando, ever the persistent wingman, continues his behind-the-scenes matchmaking efforts.

in some magical way, lando manages to get you and oscar paired up for pretty much anything. board game night? you and oscar just happen to get the exact role cards that make you teammates. time for some ornament decorating? you and oscar are the only ones who don't get a seat on the couch, having to sit on the floor together and share all your materials.

funnily enough, it never gets awkward between the two of you. even when you are left all alone, there is always something to talk about, some dumb thing lando has done that you can tease him about behind his back, or something you are curious about when it comes to his racing career so far. somehow, being with oscar started feeling comfortable, natural, unforced.

one specific night, alex comes up with the idea of playing card games, to which only a few of you are actually interested. some plan on going to bed early so they can hit the slopes first thing in the morning, while others just aren't in the mood. oscar said he would just finish wrapping some christmas presents and join you all later, and you catch yourself feeling disappointed that he's not on the couch next to you, helping you win (or taunting you to make you lose). it surprises you how much you're drawn to him, how it feels like something is missing when he isn't around, when you didn't feel this way just a few days ago.

you try to shake the feeling off, but it's still lingering even as you start playing with your friends. eventually, you excuse yourself to get a glass of water from the kitchen to take your mind off things. but-

just as you round the corner going into the kitchen, your head crashes into something hard. you shriek as you stumble, hands coming up to grab the person in front of you as you lose your balance, but a pair of hands wrap around your back, holding you up. when you look up, you're met with oscar's big brown eyes blinking down at you. "you okay there?"

you let out a relieved breath, nodding at him. "yeah, thanks to you. what were you doing coming around the corner that fast, though?"

he chuckles. "what were you doing not looking where you're going?"

"touché."

your hands are still holding on to the front of his hoodie, and you're about to let go of him and walk away when you notice something in the upper periphery of your vision. something is hanging above you. but, it can't be-

of course it is.

the mistletoe.

oscar looks up just as you do, jaw dropping slightly. "oh..."

"indeed..."

you both keep your vision pointed up, as if the mistletoe would disappear if you just keep on staring at it. oscar's hands slowly begin to slide off your back, and he's hoping you'll both just pretend like none of this ever happened. it would be the least awkward thing to do.

"maybe-" his breath hitches in his throat when you speak up. his gaze is on you again, but you're still looking at the plant. "maybe we should do it. just... for the christmas spirit, you know. i love christmas."

you don't even know what you're blabbering on about. you're trying to improvise a reason to kiss your brother's colleague that makes at least a little sense, but you're completely lost. you realize how dumb you sound, and you expect to see him staring at you like you actually are insane when you look back at him.

but what you don't know is that he thinks it's the best idea ever. he is just as into it as you are, if not more. he doesn't look at you like you're crazy; he's just dumbfounded, blinking at you as he tries to understand what's happening. did the girl he likes really just say they should kiss? because she loves christmas?

oscar gulps, but something in him gives him the courage to nod. "i mean," he starts, voice weak. "what's the harm? it's just... tradition."

"right. yeah, that's exactly what i was thinking."

the tension is higher than ever as your faces are already just inches apart. you aren't sure who should take the initiative and lean in, but before you can overthink it, you're both doing it subconsciously. your noses brush against each other briefly and a little giggle escapes past your lips, and this whole situation feels very familiar. this time, oscar can't hold back anymore, so he closes the gap and presses his mouth to yours.

the kiss is quick, not much longer than a peck, but something changes inside you. when you didn't know what it felt like to kiss oscar, you didn't think too much about it. but now that you have felt his lips on yours, you crave it.

he seems to feel the same way, because when you kiss him again, he's pressing against you instantly. your hands move from his chest to his shoulders as your lips move in sync, tilting your head to get a better angle. oscar's touch travels up and down your sides, fingers grazing the bare skin of your stomach when your sweater lifts.

oscar takes your bottom lip in between his teeth and you let out a hum, making him grin into the kiss. his tongue swipes between your lips before slipping into your mouth, exploring it for the first, but hopefully not last, time. you wrap your arms around his neck to pull him closer, already growing hot as his hands move down to your butt.

kissing oscar is so easy, so comfortable. it's like you've done it so many times before, like it's what you were made to do.

you're so relaxed and so focused on the kiss that you don't even hear lando's footsteps right next to you, nor his snicker from a few meters away as he picks up his phone to snap a couple of pictures. you don't even hear him strutting away to the living room, nor his loud proclamation to the group: mission complete.

‎‎ ‎‎

december 23rd, 8:35am

the rest of the days leading up to christmas consist of a lot of sneaking around.

the days are filled with secretive kisses when you're sure no one is watching, fleeting pecks or longer liplocks, hurriedly parting and acting like nothing happened when you hear approaching footsteps. they're filled with soft brushes as you pass each other in hallways, little squeezes of your waist or his arm when someone is around, conveying more than anyone could guess. and they're filled with giant, knowing smiles matching on your lips, with longing gazes and sly winks across the dinner table.

now, his hand is warm in yours despite the freezing temperatures of the air. when you said you forgot your mittens in the cabin, oscar had just smiled, taking off one of his own to give it to you. and to heat your other hand, he intertwined his fingers with yours, his thumb stroking the back of your hand as you walked.

you'd slipped out of the house before anyone else had woken up, wishing for a peaceful moment for yourselves. the two of you haven't really had time to properly talk ever since your moment under the mistletoe, and even though it wasn't outspoken, you both knew there were things to be discussed.

you're halfway around the lake when he finally touches on the subject. "so..." he starts, nudging your shoulder with his. "you like me, huh?"

you snicker. "i have for quite some time now, actually."

his hand squeezes yours. "tell me about it."

and when he asks, you tell.

you tell him about seeing him all those years ago, thinking that he was just a pretty face, a good driver, and not much else. you tell him about getting to know him more and more in the last two years and realizing that shit, he's so much more than that. you tell him about the butterflies, about the sneaky glances, about falling for him.

and then, he tells you his side.

he tells you about knowing of you from your first appearances in the f1 paddock, the curiosity in him growing for every picture of you and charles he saw. he tells you about wanting to approach you but not knowing how, not wanting to come off too strong or clingy. he tells you about how nothing has ever been more disappointing to him than charles's timing back in abu dhabi. then, he tells you about how his fingers had secretly been crossed all trip, hoping that lando's attempts to pair the two of you up wouldn't fall through.

you share giggles and smiles as you tell your stories, and it all feels so natural even though it's so new. and you think to yourself that maybe, this won't be so hard to get used to.

‎‎ ‎‎

december 23rd, 5:46pm

"how are things going with oscar?"

lily's voice makes your heart skip a beat. you had just walked into the kitchen to grab a gingerbread cookie, not expecting her to be doing the dishes this late in the evening – and especially not expecting her to ask you something like that. "what do you mean?" you ask back, trying to stay composed as you strut over to the cupboard, reaching into it for the box of cookies.

"are you going to be like... boyfriend and girlfriend now?"

the box slips out of your hands and crashes to the floor before you can catch it again. did you hear her correctly? your eyebrows shoot up and your mouth hangs open as you look at her again. she scoffs.

"oh please, the two of you aren't exactly sneaky," she says, looking back into the sink. "you know, lando took pictures of you under the mistletoe. and we all saw you coming back from your little trip to the lake earlier today."

"oh my god." you cover your face with your hands, letting out a groan. "oh my god. no way."

lily laughs, washing the last few plates under the tap before placing them on the side to drain. "don't worry, we were all in on it."

"and what does that mean?!"

"lando had a plan." of course he did. "we all agreed to help him out. except charles, he's still oblivious."

"what kind of plan?"

"well, just small things here and there, really." she wipes her hands on a towel before turning around and leaning against the counter. "hiding oscar's helmet so he'd have to stay here with you instead of skiing with us. walking really slowly in the market so you'd both get so tired of us that you'd stroll off alone. and the mistletoe, but that's obvious..."

as lily spills the details of lando's plan, you feel a mix of embarrassment and surprise, along with a hint of amusement. you're suddenly very aware of the collaboration that has taken place behind the scenes, and you take a deep breath as you slowly lower your hands from your face.

"so... lando really orchestrated all of this?" you exclaim, still trying to process the fact that your friends have been actively working to bring you and oscar closer together.

lily chuckles, nodding. "yes, and he's been loving every moment of it. we all figured you two needed a little push."

you shake your head in disbelief, a smile playing on your lips despite the initial shock. "what's the endgame here? is lando secretly a matchmaker or something?"

"he wishes," she says with a smirk. "i think he just enjoys playing cupid when he can." she shrugs, crossing her arms over her chest. "but hey, it worked out well, didn't it? you and oscar seem pretty cozy."

"yeah, i guess..." the mention of oscar brings a blush to your cheeks. "i just didn't expect to have a whole team of co-conspirators."

lily laughs, stepping forward to pat your shoulder. "it's all in good fun. besides, it's about time something happened between you two." you nod in agreement, smiling at her. "now, spill. how are you feeling about all of this? is he boyfriend material?"

you hesitate for a moment, contemplating your newfound dynamic with oscar. a smile tugs at the corners of your lips. "yeah, maybe. we're figuring it out, i guess. it's all been... surprisingly nice."

she grins, satisfied with your response. "well, then, i'd say lando's plan was a success." she backs away, walking towards the kitchen exit. "just enjoy it, okay? and don't be too mad at us. we just wanted to see you both happy."

you nod and watch as she leaves, still processing the directed events that have led up to this moment. as you're left alone, you can't help but smile to yourself at the thought of everything that's happened – and everything that's yet to come.

suddenly, for the first time in your life, you feel thankful for something lando has done. you'll have to remember to thank him later.

‎‎ ‎‎

december 24th, 10:23pm

just a few hours ago, charles was challenged to a snowball fight with the rest of the twitch quartet. and how could he ever say no to them?

for you to fall asleep before he got back would just be stupid, because there's no way he will be able to keep quiet when he eventually he crashes into the room post-fight. so instead, you sit against the headboard of your bed, a thick blanket draped over your body and a good book in your hands as you enjoy the tranquility of the last few moments of christmas eve.

there's a soft knock on the door, one so low you could've just as well missed it. "come in," you call out, looking up from your book as the door creaks open. surprise paints your face as oscar enters the room, his eyes sparkling with the thrill of carrying out a secret mission.

in his hands, oscar holds a beautifully wrapped box, adorned with a crimson bow. "merry christmas."

"oscar, what are you up to?" you ask, laughter dancing in your eyes.

"giving you your present." he sits at your feet, holding out the present to you.

you place your book beside you on the bed, accepting the gift with a curious smile. you unwrap the present, and as you remove the lid of the box and your eyes are met with a necklace, your breath hitches in your throat.

the heart-shaped pendant is familiar – it's the exact necklace you'd eyed in the christmas market. you look up at oscar, a myriad of emotions playing on your face. "i didn't forget my phone," he admits, a hint of vulnerability in his gaze. "i just really wanted to get it for you."

speechless, you delicately trace the edges of the pendant with your fingers. "oscar, i..."

"it's a christmas gift, but you can wear it whenever you want."

you hold the necklace up to him. "like now?"

he nods and takes it from you as you turn around, brushing away your hair so that he can secure the chain around your neck. when you turn back, you catch the glint of admiration in his eyes. "you look beautiful."

you hold the pendant between your thumb and pointer finger, a silent acknowledgment of the connection formed by the gift. "it's perfect, oscar. thank you." you tilt your head, smiling at him. "you're not getting your gift until tomorrow, though."

"just seeing you with this necklace is enough of a present for me. i don't need anything else."

‎‎ ‎‎‎

december 25th, 6:04pm

christmas day morning is for gift exchanges. you all sit around the tree in the living room, giving out presents and sharing the background stories behind the silly little things you've bought each other. you receive a ton of random objects that people had bought that day in the christmas market; objects they bought just to irritate you and oscar. now that you know, you find it quite funny – and seeing charles's confused face as you unwrapped a green screwdriver from lando is definitely one of your highlights of the day.

your present to oscar is, obviously, better planned than most other gifts. beneath the wrapper is a box titled "skiing survival kit" written in big, red letters. in it lies a pair of thick socks (with a note reading "to protect your feet from those horrible boots"), a bag of hot chocolate mix ("for moments when skiing feels too challenging; a little warmth to make everything better"), a bottle of peppermint-scented massaging oil ("you never know when you find yourself in need of a massage..."), and a handwritten letter about how you enjoyed your stay in the cottage much more than the actual skiing and a promise to stay in and warm his chair for him next time he's out "skiing".

then, midday rolls around. the chefs of the group, also known as the few people who don't burn everything they attempt to cook, take their time to make a good dinner. in the meantime, the rest of you prepare some games and competitions, including a trivia, a snow fort building competition, and a gingerbread house-decorating contest that ended in lando letting his competitiveness get the best of him. safe to say that no other gingerbread houses were still standing, other than lando's, meaning the brit won by default. his price: getting thrown in the snow in just his pyjamas.

and the evening? it's dedicated to a movie marathon, as per russell family traditions.

it has all been planned into the finest detail; the couch in the living room is decorated with blankets and pillows, nearly every bowl in the house is filled to the brim with snacks, and mattresses and pillows on the floor for those who don't fit on the couch. everyone was included of the vote of what movie you were going to see, though you had a feeling george had cheated when you were told the 'home alone' series won. especially since it's the one series he hasn't been able to stop talking about wanting to watch all trip.

you're settled on the edge of the couch, a blanket wrapped over your shoulders and your knees pulled up to your chest. you're laughing along with something kika has said from right next to you when you hear a beep from the kitchen, indicating that the last bag of popcorn was ready. you assumed lando would be getting up to fetch it, seeing as he was the one who insisted you needed one more bag, but when your eyes find him, he sits very contently and comfortably a few seats away. he looks back at you, eyebrows rising as you make eye contact.

"hey, you're the closest to the kitchen," he says, nodding his head in your direction. "go get them."

he isn't wrong, but he still makes no sense. "no way, norris."

he pouts. "please, be quick so we can start the movie already."

"you suck."

he sticks out his tongue at you but you've already walked off. when you return, a new bowl filled with popcorn in your arms, you aren't exactly surprised to see lando in the seat that used to be yours. you shoot him a glare, to which he answers, "i could barely see the tv from where i was sitting!"

"oh, but you think i'll be able to?" you scoff at the way he shrugs his shoulders, seemingly to say that it's now none of his business. and when you look at his old seat, you are even less surprised to see who's sitting right next to it.

oscar is looking up at you, confusion mixing into his features. he's been scrolling on his phone for the last few minutes and didn't notice when his teammate left him alone.

neither of you complain when you slip into lando's old spot, though. oscar immediately grabs the blanket in his lap and drapes it over you too. you shuffle closer to him as the movie turns on, the soft fabric of his pyjama pants brushing against yours. the bowl of popcorn is propped up on your lap, and when you reach into it to grab a handful, it touches something warm. you rip your eyes from the tv to see your hand brushing against oscar's. of course.

considering the other touches and kisses you've shared these last few days, it's not even a very intimate action. and yet, something about it leaves both of you giggling.

"so many clichés this trip, huh?" he says, eyes flickering between your hands and your face.

instead of answering, you grab his hand in yours. your fingers slip in between his easily, as they've done so many times these last few days, but you pull your hands underneath the blanket to keep them out of sight from everyone else.

it's a good movie, but it's easy for you to zone out when you feel oscar's hand squeeze yours. neither of you can really stay away from the other, inching closer as the movie progresses and stealing little cheek kisses when everyone is focused on the most exciting scenes. and when you start to grow a little tired, your head instinctively lands on his shoulder as you let out a little yawn. oscar desperately has to hold himself back from cooing at you, feeling so soft and prideful that you're leaning on him, and he settles for leaning his own head on you.

you both think you're being subtle, but everyone in the room understands what's going on. even charles, who has now been let in on what's happened between you and oscar after he walked in on lando telling alex about how cute the new couple in the house looked walking around the lake, can't take his eyes off the two of you. as your older brother, he feels like he should be doing something or saying something to protect you. he wonders what his role should be here – aren't brothers supposed to scare their sisters' boyfriends away?

but charles realizes that oscar isn't an enemy. in this moment, you look so peaceful, so content; like you've found the the long-lost puzzle piece to make you complete. how could he possibly interrupt that?

‎‎ ‎‎

december 25th, 11:28pm

charles is still fast asleep on the couch when you slip into oscar's room after the movie has ended, fingers intertwined and your laughter mixing as he pulls you along to his bed. his hands find your hips as he sits down on the edge of the bed, urging you to lower yourself onto his lap, and you happily oblige.

"look up," he says, and when you do, you're not surprised by what's hanging in the roof.

the mistletoe.

"oh," you start, looking back at him. last time you found yourself underneath the mistletoe with oscar, you had been more nervous than ever before. but this time, it isn't as scary. this time, you're able to shrug, a teasing grin forming on your lips. "i guess we should kiss, then. just for the christmas spirit, you know."

his lips are curved into a big smile. "oh, i do know." one of his hands comes up to tuck some hair behind your ear, cupping your cheek in his palm. "it's because you love christmas."

you can't hold back from giggling, and neither can he, both of you leaning in to seal your lips. your first encounter underneath the mistletoe was hesitant, but it feels like that was ages ago, in another lifetime. now, with his lips pressing against yours, it feels like it's all you've known.

he's so gentle with it, his kisses delicate and tender, and your heart flutters at the feeling. his hands land on your waist as your arms wrap around his neck, scooting in even closer. when your crotch brushes against him, he involuntarily lets out a moan into your mouth, and you stop for a moment to pull away. both your eyes and his are wide as you look at each other, and oscar doesn't know what to say. his mind is racing, not sure if you thought that was awkward or too soon or-

"that's so fucking hot," you say, and he finally exhales. you kiss him again, speaking against his lips. "wanna hear more."

he has no problems letting out more sounds when you keep up your actions, your hips rolling down on him rhythmically. his hands find the hem of your sweater and slip inside, instantly roaming your sides. his cold touch tickles, and when his fingers move along your waist, you can't help but giggle against his lips. he laughs along with you, but he only does it to match you. he's dumbfounded when you part from him and you grab his wrists to make him halt.

"you're too cold," you start, a bit breathless already. "it's-"

"are you really that ticklish?" he chuckles, fingers running up and down your sides again to test you, and his heart melts when you throw your head back, laughing. "oh come on, how am i supposed to do this if i can't touch you?"

"warm your fingers next time and we should be fine."

"next time, huh?" a combination of a smirk and a grin plays on his lips. "planning ahead?"

"well, it depends on how well you perform tonight." he sticks out his tongue at your taunting tone. "just take it off already, will you?"

oscar happily obliges, pulling the material off you before reaching for his own sweater, throwing them both onto the floor. his eyes stick to your chest, to the soft, red bed bra holding up your breasts, and he feels himself growing harder instantly, because this is so much better than he'd imagined. you can't exactly complain about what your eyes are met with, either; oscar's toned chest and his broad shoulders are basically calling out for you to come and press your lips to them. or sink your teeth in them. probably both.

he gives you a few quick kisses before his hands land on your hips and he flips you both around, laying you onto the covers. his lips meet the skin below your ear, and then travel down the side of your neck. he hears your breath hitch in your throat when he finds a spot you enjoy particularly much, making sure to memorize it for the future. and when his kisses trail even further down, they meet something hard and metallic. when he leans back, he realizes that you're wearing the necklace.

he didn't notice it until now, since he was too busy being mesmerized by your breasts earlier; but now, he can't take his eyes off it. the little heart charm rests just above your actual heart, and something about seeing it makes his heart flutter. the necklace he bought for you, the one that makes you think of him and only him. it's like you're already tagged as his.

"cute," he whispers to himself, placing a long kiss right on top of the heart. he can feel your real heart beating underneath his lips, fast but not really enough, and he can't wait to make you feel like it's pounding out of your chest.

he starts placing open-mouthed kisses down your stomach, his hands finding the waistband of your sweatpants.

"you okay with me taking these off?" he asks, parting from your skin to watch you nod your head. he pulls the material down your body, smiling when your underwear comes into sight. they're not a pair of lacy lingerie or victoria's secret-lookalikes, but just a regular pair of panties in a deep green color with little candy canes. his eyes flicker between your bra and your panties. "green and red, huh?"

"well, what can i say?" you smile. "i love christmas." he giggles, and so do you, as he leaves your pants somewhere on the floor before moving further down your body. when his hands near the fuzzy socks with little cartoon santas dressing your feet, you're quick to speak. "those stay on, though."

"oh, is that so?"

"gotta make sure you're not just doing this for that foot fetish you might or might not have." a laughter erupts from his chest. "i've had too much of that recently."

"well, i don't have one, so i don't mind you keeping them on." he moves up on the bed again, fingers reaching the hem of your underwear. "but i can take these off, right?"

"things would get kinda tricky otherwise, i'd say,” you tease, but oscar merely blinks up at you with raised eyebrows.

"tricky, yes. but not impossible."

you shake your head, a grin making its way onto your lips. "next time, oscar."

and there it is again. next time. the way you say it so casually, like there's no doubt in your mind that there will be another time, that you'll do all of this again.

yet again, instant boner.

your panties are off in a second, and he doesn't waste any time before pressing his lips to the inside of your thigh. his hand takes care of your other thigh, thumb brushing up and down your skin, as your lips travel closer and closer to where you want him the most.

you suck in a breath when you feel his warm breath against your core. his tongue meets your clit and your eyes flutter closed, one of your hands reaching down to entangle in his hair. as his tongue draws circles around your bud, one of his hands leaves your thigh, a finger swiping along your wet folds before pushing slowly into you. you don't know which sensation to focus on, both growing stronger and pushing you closer to your limit every passing second. when he's pumped you a couple of times, he adds another finger and then another, pushing deep into you. his fingers curling inside of you makes you pull on his hair even harder, your mind growing hazy and your breaths shorter.

"o-oscar," you let out, subconsciously buckling your hips towards him in hopes of creating more friction. "i'm so clos-"

you're cut off by the combination of a moan and a whine that leaves your lips when his tongue flicking your clit speeds up. "come for me, sweetheart," he tells you, his voice sending vibrations against your core.

your legs shake around him as you completely let go, feeling the climax wash over you just moments after his order. your free arm drapes over your face, covering your eyes in your arm as you try to catch your breath. oscar continues lapping you up, helping you ride it out, also licking his fingers clean before letting his hands caress your sides soothingly. he's unsure whether his fingers are warm enough now to not tickle you, or if you're just too busy coming down from your high to even realize you should feel ticklish, but he smiles at the thought nonetheless.

"everything alright up here?" oscar asks as he moves up to your face again, one of his hands prying the arm off your face. you slowly open your eyes, your hazy gaze meeting his loving one and you can't help but to cup his face in your hands. you pull him down to your lips, lazily lacing them together. he pulls away just enough for his lips to still brush yours when he speaks. "i'll take that as a yes."

you're quick to nod, but even quicker to connect his lips with yours again, not wanting to be apart for even a second.

your hands slide down his neck and the front of his body, loving the feeling of his strong muscles under your touch. your fingers reach down to the edge of his pajama pants, and you let out a chuckle when you notice the ever-growing tent in them. "don't laugh at me," he starts, biting down on your bottom lip as a warning. "you're so hot, how could i not get this hard?"

"oh, shut it," you say, feeling a blush creep onto your cheeks. "just take them off, will you?"

"as you wish."

as he shuffles off the bed and pulls off his own pants, plus his boxers along with them, you take the time to reach behind you and unclasp your bra, letting it slide down your arms and off the bed. when he reaches into the bedside table and pulls out a condom, you raise your eyebrows. "oh, so you were planning this?"

he shakes his head as he climbs on top of you again. "i was hoping, not expecting. those are two very different things." he removes the wrapper and throws it onto the table, rolling the condom onto himself. "do you need anything? or-"

"just you."

oscar presses his smile to yours, kissing you like he has no rush in the world, like he just wants to savor this moment with you. "well then," he says against your lips, nudging his dick against your entrance. "i have to give the lady what she wants, don't i?"

you can't control the whine that slips into his mouth when he pushes into you. you thought you were ready for him, but he's so big and he stretches you out so perfectly. he pauses once he's slipped entirely into you, his lips finding a spot below your ear as he allows you to get used to him. your pussy is throbbing already, still sensitive from just minutes ago, and the little involuntary clenches around him make oscar grow more and more eager.

when he finally starts moving, you drape your arms around his shoulders for stability. his thrusts are slow but deep, and yet you desperately want more of him. you hook a leg over his hip, the other following soon after, and you gasp at the way he bottoms you out completely. one of his hands comes up to squeeze your breast, thumb flicking over the nipple as his pace speeds up. the sounds you make and the way your legs squeeze him close makes him feel like he could cum anytime, but he tries to hold back because he needs to see you fall apart beneath him for the second time tonight.

"oscar..." you cry out when his free hand slides down your body, a finger coming in contact with your clit again.

"just a little more, love." his thrusts have grown sloppy and his figures on your bud aren't exactly perfect, but it's good enough for your orgasm to hit.

your back arches off the bed, your chest pressing into his as you nuzzle your face into the side of his neck to hide your moans. when your walls tighten around him, he reaches his high too, his body shaking as he rides it out. your heart is about ready to jump out of your chest when he collapses onto you, both of you trying to catch your breaths. "holy fuck," oscar starts, his breath warm on your skin. "that was amazing. you feel amazing." you try to gather energy to speak, fingers getting lost in his curls. "you taste amazing, too. better than any christmas dinner."

you give him a weak slap to his shoulder. "shush."

"it's true!" he pushes himself back a bit, mouth hanging in mock offense. "this was the best present i could've ever wished for."

"the necklace is higher on my list, though."

oscar pauses for a moment. "i'm not sure if i should feel proud or offended."

you snicker. "i was hoping for the latter," you tease, but regret it the moment oscar's hands find your waist, fingers dancing along it and tickling you yet again. the squeal you let out does nothing to halt his actions, and he doesn't even budge when you try to push him away by his shoulders. "i was kidding!"

"apologize. now."

his fingers still working their way on your skin make it almost impossible for you to speak again, but you do your best to take a deep breath. "i'm- i'm sorry! oscar- stop it!"

he finally stops, and you finally get to breathe. "i'll go get a wet towel," oscar says, pulling away from you and giving you one last glance. he almost doesn't leave the bed when he looks at you, though – he finds the sight almost too good to be true. your rosy cheeks, the dreamy smile on your lips, your hair spread out on the pillows. he's scared that if he leaves you, maybe the spell will be broken and he'll realize all of this has just been a dream. because that's just how this all feels: surreal.

but it is real, and he can't wait to have you like this in his bed again.

‎‎ ‎‎

december 26th, 12:56pm

packing up after a good trip is always a bittersweet affair. realizing that you have the real world waiting for you, your actual lives with responsibilities and obligations, and that you can't just stay in this fairytale forever – this moment was definitely not something you looked forward to.

you and charles need to get back to monaco to celebrate christmas with your other brothers and your mother, before he needs to go away for pre-season work again. you're meticulously folding up your clothes, zipping up bags and exchanging smiles as you reminisce on memories of the week.

but, things are different this time. you know that the magic of this trip isn't going to stay here – in one way or another, you'll bring some of it with you back to your real life.

oscar.

you've already made plans to meet up after new years, and even when he's busy with work, you know that you'll at least see him during every race weekend. neither of you are ever more than a flight, or a call, away, and you just can't wait to see where this all takes you.

"so... oscar, huh?" charles's voice breaks the silence, his eyes glancing in the direction of your open door that lets in the sound of oscar's voice from the living room.

"hm? what about him?" you reply, trying to hold back the smile threatening to adorn your lips when you hear his name.

charles cocks an eyebrow at you. "you and him... kind of obvious." he gazes towards your bed. "besides, your bed is made. you didn't sleep here last night."

"well, i-" you start, but charles interrupts with a knowing chuckle.

"relax, i'm not going to be a police. just..." he shows off a sweet smile. "enjoy it."

with a nod and a shared understanding, you both continue packing, an unspoken acknowledgment hanging in the air. the group gathers to bid you farewell by the front door, and gratitude fills your heart as you exchange goodbyes with your friends. you grow especially soft when lando pulls you into a hug, a cheeky grin on his lips. "thank you," you whisper, giving his cheek a quick peck to really convey how much you appreciate everything he's done this holiday. he just squeezes you back, telling you not to worry about it.

finally, as you turn to say your farewell to oscar, the atmosphere shifts and the group watches with amused anticipation. "until next time," you say, your eyes holding a promise that transcends the physical distance.

"until next time," he repeats, smiling as you engulf him in a tight hug.

you pull away just enough for your ear to brush against his ear, your voice low. "charles knows, by the way."

"w-what?" his eyes widen for a moment, flickering between you and your brother – but then realization dawns. "well, in that case..."

before you can react, oscar pulls you closer again. he presses a goodbye-kiss on your lips, right there in front of everyone, and the group erupts into cheers.

and the loudest of them all? lando, of course. "if i'm not the best man at your wedding, i'll never forgive you guys."

[insert-this-fire]

Overpoweringly Sweet

Logan Howlett aka Wolverine x gn!nonspecified mutant! Reader

Summary: Somehow you contracted Hanahaki for a man you hardly ever spoken to. Cant end well can it?

W/C: ~9k Warnings: a little OOC, angst, graphic description of coughing up flowers with blood.

AO3 Mirror A/N: I never post actual fics on tumblr but I feel that it needs to be done here. So sorry if its kinda formatted weird? it will also be on AO3!. First x-men fic too so sorry if its a bit ooc. Not really based on any specific iteration of Wolverine. Also not edited like, at all. Also I take requests! :3

~~ :3 ~~

You know, having a crush on someone so unattainable is laughable at best. Having a crush on them and apparently somehow contracting Hanahaki is even worse. How does that even happen? You haven’t even spoken to the guy more than a few words. Too embarrassed to open your mouth to introduce yourself and you work together. Yet here you are, petals on the bathroom floor and a constricting feeling in your throat. Your head lying on the back of the stall door. Still heaving from the sudden onslaught of overly sickly floral-scented petals that spilled out.

Gardenias. Pure white and mocking. 

The smell of them made you nauseous. The sight of them even more so. After looking up what they meant. It just made things even worse.

Secret love. How fitting.

It’s a damn crush, and the world decided it was love. Love for a grumpy ass old man with hair that kinda made you think of a cat. Actually, he reminded you of a cat in general. One that you want to rest your face on and fall asleep. Bury your face in those pecs of his. Muscles may look hard, but they do have a bit of squish. By God, does he have muscles. You’ve caught him shirtless a few times. All by accident, of course. You weren’t a pervert. Anytime you think of it, your jaw clenches tight.

Ah, getting off-topic here. Back to the fact that apparently, hanahaki doesn’t care if you’ve ever talked to someone before.

The stall door was cool against your cheek when you turned your head, and it was less gross than hugging the toilet like you wanted to so you could flush the flowers down the drain. It was terrible. The petals surround you, and a single full bloom floats mockingly in the toilet.

You know how to cure it. The moment that the flower petals started to spill from your lips, you desperately looked for what it was. It wasn’t that hard to find, apparently some find it sickeningly romantic. Bet they never had to deal with the ache that was constant around your lungs. You found the cure for it as well. Should be easy to do, right? Tell the person how you feel and they return it, or get it surgically removed. The surgery should be the right choice. It’s the only choice. You’ve hardly spoken to the man who coveted your affection, but the thought of not feeling the tug of your heart when you see him was too much to bear. Which makes no sense! It’s a dumb crush.

God, you’re an idiot.

A deep breath fills your lungs slightly, and the pain wraps around your chest as you try to get a full breath. Your hands find purchase on the rim of the toilet, and you push yourself up. Now, on two shaky legs, you wipe your mouth. You need to clean up the petals before anyone comes in. It was still the middle of the day, and classes were still going. Thank God the coughing fit didn’t hit you till lunch, or you would have to explain to a classroom full of students. That would be embarrassing. Yeah sorry class, your teacher is in love with someone they can’t have, let’s continue with the lesson now! Embarrassing.

Your hands start to pick up the petals. Each one feels as if it was searing into your skin. One, two, five, ten, thirty. Thirty petals and one full bloom. You were screwed. You could go to Hank. See if he knew any other way around it, any way to fix the disgusting flowers that took root in your lungs. Maybe being a mutant changed how to cure the disease? That was just hopeful thinking, though.

After mulling over the choices for a few moments more, you finally unlock the stall door and walk over to the garbage, quickly discarding the petals that did not make it into the toilet.

Your feet then carry you out of the bathroom and, as luck would have it, right into the chest of the one person you did not want to face yet.

Logan.

You were right, though. The muscles on his chest were squishy. God you want to just motorboat him real fast. Would that be weird? Yeah it would be. As quickly as you ran into him, you tried to remove yourself from his personal space. You know the guy wasn’t too fond of touch. You think. You actually… don’t know. Words quickly spill from your mouth as you try to apologize. “Sorry, sorry. Didn’t see you.”

Logan just makes some gruff-sounding noise and continues on his way. You could faintly see as he walked away scrunching of his nose. He was probably able to smell the faint floral scent that was clinging to you. It probably wasn’t pleasant. You didn’t like the scent, it probably was a lot stronger on his end.

As you stand in the hallway after the sudden bump into your crush, you place your hand on your chest to calm your beating heart, and you walk in the opposite direction to your classroom. It hurt that he didn’t even say anything back to your apology, but that seemed pretty in character. To you, at least. If you were on friendlier terms, maybe not, but you doubt he even knows your name.

The thought of the surgery resurfaces in your head. Maybe you should get it. Ignore the deep-seated pain in your heart at the thought of losing your feelings for him. However, the repercussions of a botched removal is another reason not to do so. It could remove the feeling of ever being in love again. Would that be so bad though?

You shake your head. You have a class you have to get back to… and a phone call to make.

The day continued on like normal after that. Classes, grading papers, discreetly removing petals from your mouth into the trashcan by your desk as you graded papers. A new norm for you. It did seem that a few students had noticed a slight change in you. In fact, one of them even got you a get well soon card. Sweet, but it left a bitter taste in your mouth.

If you don’t get better soon, you will probably end up another statistic for the disease. How many people were there that had it and perished as the roots wrapped around the lungs and slowly filled the valves on the heart. Too many, probably. You couldn’t bring yourself to look at that. That’s why you were now sitting in your now empty classroom, making a phone call. You had found a number to a doctor who specializes in the disease. You would get some advice and decide from there what you want to do.

The phone rings, once, twice….

“Hello, this is Dr. Forrest’s office. How may I help you?” How fitting a doctor who knows about Hanahaki has a nature-based last name.

You quickly introduce yourself and ask if you could speak to him or schedule an appointment. Apparently the only way to talk to him is with an appointment. The next one isn’t for a few months. You don’t even know if you’ll last that long. You’ve been keeping track. A full bloom appeared today. A singular full bloom, no steam. The petals were loose so it had to be in the early start of the mid stages. It was taking its time infecting you. It must be due to not seeing Logan all the time.

You do tend to avoid him when you can. The thought of seeing him always makes your cheeks burn. Man was just too hot. It made it seem like you were in love with just his looks! You weren’t. Otherwise, you wouldn’t be coughing up all these petals. You’re pretty sure it wasn’t just his looks. The flower has a meaning, after all.

Maybe if you avoid Logan, actually stop trying to see if you can see him across the halls. Stop looking for him during dining hours. Just try to ignore him. Though unless he was going to go on one of those sudden long vanishing acts. Well, you doubt that you actually will be able to avoid him enough to live till the next appointment. You really are screwed. Shit.

Running a hand over your face with a groan you lean back in the chair behind your desk. What should you do? The surgery now seemed to be out of the question. So now you either confess and die, or you just die. Which definitely was not the ideal thing to do. You were screwed. Hands down. Your name is on the death warrant the moment the receptionist said months. Maybe you should go to Hank. Dude was a certified genius right? He would know something.

A knock at your door made you jump. Quickly you lift your head and look over to the closed door to your classroom. Could be a student, another faculty member? Whoever it was either needed you or the room.

“Come on in.”

Silence followed and then the door opened up. Your gaze turns to the door, ready to answer whatever questions that are going to follow. Till you hear the tall tale sound of boots, heavy. The sound of jeans rubbing against legs. A jacket rustling slightly from movement. Jeez, why are you suddenly so aware of the sounds?

Your eyes hone in on the man you’ve been thinking about. Logan. Twice. TWICE in one day you’ve seen him up close. See him in your space. He never seeks you out. You never get to see him up close like this more than once or twice a week. It’s like you’re in a fanfiction and someone is pushing the two of you together.

That’s silly though, this was real life.

“Oh, Logan. How can I… help you?” Could you sound any more awkward? You want to bang your head on your desk. Especially with how he was just looking at you. Should you have called him Wolverine? Mr. Howlett?

“You need to let up on that perfume you’re wearing. Can smell it all over the hall.” His face gives away the fact he smells something he doesn’t like. 

Perfume?... Perfume… The flowers. Of course he could smell it. The floral scent has been clinging to you since the first petals slipped from between your lips.

“Oh, heh sorry. I’ll try to use less of it.” You just laugh a bit, still feeling a tad bit uncomfortable, the sudden tickle in your throat reminding you that you could not stop the smell from permeating your skin. That it will linger on you till you no longer have these flowers growing inside of your chest. “If I use too much again I’m sorry. Can’t really tell when I use too much or not.”

Blue eyes narrow at you, you can tell he doesn’t believe you. That he should call you out on it. “Thanks bub, it’s masking everything else.”

With that he left the room as quickly as he came, there was a slight pause and you can tell he glanced at the trash can by your desk. The trash can that had a few petals thrown in haphazardly. Thought to be hidden by the papers that you threw on top. You hope that is all he sees.

That was such an awkward interaction. You slam your head on the desk once more. God why are you such an idiot.

~~ :3c ~~

Time continues on like normal, but recently you catch Logan at the corner of your eye. Which is normal, you usually do seek him out. Yet now it’s like he is everywhere you go. Walking in the gardens, he’s out there smoking one of his cigars leaning on a tree or the wall of the mansion. You’d be eating and you’d see him a table or two away, his eyes on you. You can feel them boring into your skin. You’ll be walking in the hallways and see him turning a corner before you fully spot him. More often than not you find him outside of the bathroom you were just in after coughing up a storm. Just standing by the door like a guard dog. Always scrunching his nose when the door opens and the aroma of flowers follows you out.

He knew. He had to. He had to know something was wrong with you. There is no way he doesn’t. The man has been alive long enough that he probably knows the signs of what you have. The disease that is currently ruining your life. He has probably seen all sorts of people who have had Hanahaki. You won’t be the first, nor the last person he has seen inflicted with it either. It’s probably why he’s keeping an eye on you. He must have found out when he came to ask you to stop using so much perfume and yet you still smell that sickeningly floral smell on you.

Unless you’re just suddenly more aware of him than you were before. Which you shouldn’t be. You were already highly aware of him due to your damn dumb crush that’s killing you. Eyes are always lingering on him.

It’s probably because of the scent that’s following you around. It is probably sticking out more than your usual scent, which was. You don’t know. What do you normally smell like? Apparently, it’s something non-distinct since the new smell is pretty overpowering. If you can smell it, it must be strong.

You wish you knew what was going through the man’s head. You couldn’t really ask him. You aren’t close to him like that. Can’t ask the people he is close to either because you aren’t close to them. You kinda just, are here in the mansion teaching. You’re not a part of x-men, you aren’t too interested in fighting anyways. You earned your keep teaching. You are vaguely close to Hank though. Well, in recent events at least. You could ask him?

Yeah, no, you aren’t. You’re going to suffer through this. You can handle it. You don’t need to know what’s going on in his mind.

Which reminds you, you need to actually go talk to Hank. You’ve been putting it off, but the full blooms are startling. Every other coughing fit brings one full bloom. It has only been a week since the first bloom and with the sudden influx of Logan sightings, it is speeding up. You needed an out and fast. Before it kills you.

Thus here you are walking through the mansion to head down to his lab. Quickly avoiding anyone you see. The scent of flowers following you through the halls like a wraith. Leaving a trail of sweetness to waft into the air. Disgusting.

As you make your way into the lab you spot Hank, or Beast? Shit, you don’t even know which one he prefers to be called. You really should ask, huh. Anyway, you spot him.

When the blue-furred man spots you, he quickly greets you with your name: “It is good to see you this fine evening. What do I owe the pleasure? It is not often I see you down here.”

If you could, you would sigh deeply. The rattling of vines stops the motion before it begins. “Hi yeah uh. I got into a delicate situation and I don’t know who else to go to? The doctor I had called can’t really see me and I don’t know what else to do and you’re like… The smartest person I know so I’m hoping… you could help?” The words spill out quickly.

Hank raises an eyebrow and fixes the glasses perched on his face. The man was upside down for some odd reason, and he quickly flipped to land on the ground. With grace you don’t expect for someone his size. Then again, you’ve seen some weird ass mutations. He motions for you to sit down on one of the beds stationed in the lab. One used when needed for situations like this. Medical, scientific, not something you can throw a punch at and fix.

After sitting down on the bed, you start to explain. Words flowing like a waterfall. He is the first person you have gone into detail about your condition. How the petals slip from your lips like a poison, the tightening of your chest with each breath. The fear of losing yourself to unrequited love and dying because of it. You do not mention who it is directed at nor the fact you thought it was a crush and did not deserve to have evolved into such a disease.

The room fell silent after your reveal, a silence that stretched on longer than you would have liked. God, you hope he has an idea about how to help you out of this mess.

“From my knowledge there are only two cures. I assume you already know.” A pause as you answer with a curt nod. “I do not believe there are any other alternatives other than what has been proven to work. I assume that you are here to find out if there are any or that you require the surgery.”

“I can’t tell them… I really had hoped that you would know. I don’t.” You sigh and run a hand through your hair, messing it up slightly. It was already a mess from earlier, but you know how hands are in hair. “It’s not an option to tell them.”

“I see. It will take some time, but I will see if I can learn the correct procedure so that there will be minimal to no complications.” Hank pats you on the shoulder and motions for you to head out. He had some things to do and research to go over. Escorting you out of his lab so Hank may do what is necessary. He didn’t give a timeline, but you trust that he can do it before your time is up.

You really hope that he can do this.

After leaving the lab, you had to pass some of the other faculty. Or X-men? Yeah, it seems they are setting off on a mission of some sort. You pass Cyclops, Storm, Jean and. Yeah, that is exactly who you don’t want to see right now. Logan. Seems he is going with them. To, wherever they have to go. You give them all a small nod in acknowledgment as you pass them. Each one provides you a small smile or nods back.

Logan though? He pauses when you pass him. His face contorted into something you weren’t too sure of. He probably caught another whiff of the flowers on you. Great. The others give him a look and he just grunts at them. Somehow they understand and continue on their way. Leaving you with Logan.

A hand grabs your bicep, fingers wrapping around the muscle. Your gaze drops to the hand, in another life you were sure it would be rough with use, but it was surprisingly soft. The grip was not, natural strength hidden behind the hold. A promise that you would not be able to pull away without exerting yourself.

“You’re smellin’ worse. Thought I told you to let up.” A gruff voice, oh how you want to roll in that voice. That was a weird thought, you should probably stop thinking of that like a weirdo. God are you a weirdo?

An awkward laugh bubbles up from your chest. You can feel your own muscles tense under his hold and gaze. Damn he’s never looked at you like this before. A slight glare, crinckled nose, and a slight snarl on his lips. You must be really weird because damn was that kind of a hot look. Which somehow in turn makes your chest tighten and the tickle of a cough is trying to break free. You swallow hard to bite it back. Yet you can feel the petals moving through your throat. 

“Sorry sorry, I guess I overdid it?” You pull your eyes away from his. Unable to continue to look at his face. Be it from your weird thoughts, the tickle in your throat or your inability to keep eye contact with someone. “I swear I’m not doing it on purpose.”

“You’re hiding that you're sick.” The grip on your arm tightens. Not in a painful manner no, but a reminder that you cannot run away from this conversation. Which is odd right? Why does Logan care? You two hardly know each other. Sure you apparently love the man, but you’re still sure he doesn’t even know your name. You’ve seen him care for others in the mansion, a good friend in an odd way. A father figure and mentor to some of the students. Also in a weird way. You’re sure he’d brush off that idea and say he isn’t. He is.

Wait, he just said you’re sick… “I’m not sick?” 

Logan's eyes narrow as he stares at you. Do you look sick? Sure you’ve gotten a little pale and eating has gotten a little hard so you haven’t been eating as much as you usually do. Does being sick have a smell to it? Fuck that is weird. Well, some animals could tell when others are sick before physical symptoms show. Maybe that's how he knew. No, that wouldn’t make sense because you aren’t really sick. You just have a big fat crush that's killing you. 

You can tell Logan doesn’t believe you. “Just fix it. Can’t stand the smell on you.” His hand lets go and he stalks down the hallway to where the others had walked off to. Your eyes linger on his form as he walks away. The ghost of a feeling on your arm where his hand had wrapped around it. The slight warmth seeping into your skin slowly vanishes. God you’re fucked. 

~~ >:3 ~~

And fucked you are. It’s been at least two months since you told Hank about the hanahaki. Hank is taking his sweet ass time researching the procedure, the doctor you called has called back finally and mentioned that his next opening for a consultation was still months away. Which you decide to say fuck that guy, you trust Hank can do it. The doctor probably won’t even work on a mutant. Logan is still always at the corner of your eye. A scowl or sneer on his face anytime he looks at you. Not to mention the flowers! They’re getting worse.

Full blooms, multiple at a time. Their petals no longer loose around the center. Now they are tightly packed, fully bloomed and speckled with blood as they escape through your throat. Occasionally there would be a flower that had not bloomed yet. Still wrapped tightly, not fully formed. You weren’t sure what that meant, but you’re sure it wasn’t good. At least they were not roses. You feel bad for those who dealt with that. Thorns were something you were happy that was not in the mix of your own flower hell.

The flowers aren’t fully developed yet. Stems have not fallen with them. Yet you are unsure if you would survive long enough to see the end stages of hanahaki. Your body is getting weaker and weaker each day. Your own mutation even fighting against you. You can hardly call on it now. Once you had wished to be a normal person, but that has been years ago. Now you feel like you are losing a part of yourself. These damn flowers truly are killing you. Both physically and emotionally. 

You had to leave class more often. The coughs that tore through your chest made it unbearable to speak long enough to teach an entire class to its completion. Students start to worry, other faculty seem to notice the sudden change as you have to start asking for people to cover your class for you as you rush to the restroom to hug the porcelain throne to exude the flowers of love. Each time more and more petals fall from your lips, tears stain your cheeks more often due to the pain and energy it takes to clear them out from your throat. 

It has gotten to the point where you had to ask someone to cover your class in full, or cancel it. You don’t want to cancel your classes, but at the rate you are going it will be the only thing you can do. Today is probably the last full class you can handle, you feel like shit. Your throat itches, your stomach aches from the lack of food. Your head hurts because of the lack of sleep from the coughing. Yeah, you might have to take a break from it all. What surprises you is that Logan is waiting outside of your classroom.

Ok it’s not that surprising. You’ve been catching him outside your classroom since he came back. It is like he is suddenly more aware of you. He doesn’t say anything, but you can feel his eyes on you. You would be excited usually, your crush suddenly paying attention to you! How great is that? Yet lately it just makes things feel so much worse. Especially with that sneer on his face. You know he knows something is up, he made it clear two months ago. Though he hasn’t brought it up again. Yet he is always there. Like a shadow. 

Which is honestly a bit uncomfortable. You aren’t used to this amount of attention. 

“You don’t have to stand out here you know?” Papers you needed to grade were in your arms. You may need to take a break, but you should at least grade these papers before someone takes the class over. Your last bit of work. 

Logan just stares at you. The slight glare, the wrinkled nose, the arms crossing making those muscles bulge out of his shirt. You had to quickly drag your eyes away from his arms so you aren’t caught staring. You don’t meet his eyes though. It was too intense. 

“You’re getting worse.” Way to point out the obvious Logan.

“Good observation.” A short pause follows after. Silence falls for a few moments. “I uh, it’s why I’m takin a break. Sick leave? Uh… Yeah…” You really don’t know how to talk to him. The tickle in your throat is back again. Too soon, you just hacked up half your lung just moments before. You really don’t want to cough in front of him. You thought he might already know what it is, but he still thinks the smell on you is perfume. So no way do you want him to know the truth. 

Logan stares at you a few moments longer, a slight grunt. His head motioned for you to follow him. That’s how you read it at least as he starts to walk down the corridor and only pauses to look at you. Looks like you’re following him. This can’t end well can it? 

The two of you walk silently through the corridors. Your arms are still full of papers, but it seems the two of you are heading out into the garden. Probably for the best, the crisp air outside will dull the floral scent. Hopefully at least. Even if it lingers on your skin and it has gotten to the point others have even started to point it out. The halls were mostly empty though at this time. Most students are already off doing their own thing, you can vaguely hear a laughter from down the hall as the two of you finally make your way outside.

Into the garden, the cool air bites at your exposed arms. You should have worn a jacket. Too late for that now it seems. The trees are already turning orange, autumn making its way across the land. Oranges, reds and browns. If you weren’t full of anxiety you would be enjoying the sights. Especially as Logan brings you over to a small bench by the man-made pond. A bit away from everyone, but still close enough to the mansion you can dash inside if needed. 

You take a seat first. The papers sit beside you. Logan stands in front of you. Arms crossed and eyes narrowed. He isn’t sitting. Why isn’t he sitting?

“So uh…” Your voice comes out first, awkward and a bit unsure. The tickle in your throat grows again as you fight it back.

“It’s not perfume on you is it?” Logan’s gaze never leaves yours, but you can’t help but look away. Too uncomfortable with the eyes boring into you. You never once used perfume, though you did use that as an excuse didn’t you?

Silence followed after. Your eyes looking at the ground as you kick your legs back and forth. Unable to voice the truth. Logan is still looking at you, jaw clenching most likely. You don’t have to look at him to know.

His voice finally cuts through the silence. Apparently he was sick of you beating around the bush and not answering him. Your name on his lips startling you slightly. You honestly thought he didn’t know your name, but it seems you were wrong. “What's makin you so sick that it’s leaving you to look like that and smell like that.”

You should tell him. Tell him. TELL HIM. 

… 

You’ll tell him without actually telling him. You don’t think you’d survive telling him the full truth. You’re a pretty good liar most of the time. He might be able to pick through the lie but he’s not that perceptive right? 

“I uh… It’s.” You feel like you’re stumbling over your words, your throat constricting. “I have.”

You couldn’t finish your sentence. Your muscles tensing as a cough tears through you. Violently. Your body lurching forward as your hand shoots up to cover your lips as the cough pulls out petals and blossoms alike. Your hand can’t catch all the petals as they spill to the ground. Your eyes clenching shut as tears prickle the corners due to how painful it was. The other hand not covering your mouth grabs at your chest. As if you could claw the roots out through your skin. It burns. 

It burns, it burns, it burns. 

It won’t stop. You can’t stop hacking up the petals. Each cough brings out a sob with it as well. It has never been this bad. The scent of gardenias explodes. It burns your nose. You hate the smell of it. If you survive you’ll never be able to handle this scent again. Your body retching forward as you double over. Body crumpling in on itself as you try desperately to get some air into your already filled lungs. You would think having plants living in your lungs would give you more oxygen. If only it didn’t wrap tightly around your lungs and neighboring organs. Leaving little space for what you truly needed.

You almost forget Logan is there with you. An unexpected presence sits beside you. Warmth seeping into your side. He doesn’t set a comforting hand on your back. Doesn’t say any words. But him sitting beside you is enough comfort. You don’t think you could handle physical touch anyways. Your body would probably jerk harder at it. Hanahaki really was a killing disease wasn’t it. It was going to kill you before even getting to the final stage. You can’t do this.

Slowly the coughing fit lessens. The petals and blooms spilling from your mouth as if it was all you breathed came to a stop. Your body still hunched over, tears filling your eyes as you finally, finally stopped coughing up the damned flowers. You were still shaking, trying to catch the lost breath.

“You’re ok sweetheart. Just try and breathe.” Something large, heavy, warm rests on your upper back. Small soothing circles. He called you sweetheart, that was strange. You don’t expect comfort. You don’t think Logan expected to comfort you like this either. It was an awkward movement, but comforting. You wanted to lean into it, lean into him. You weren’t going to though. Pain was radiating through your chest and you weren’t sure you would be able to sit up straight without coughing again. Fear that any movement will bring on another coughing fit settled inside of you like a vice. You can still feel the slight tickle in your raw throat. 

You taste blood.

It takes a few tries, gasping tries, before air finally was able to fill your lungs enough that you could breathe properly. Or well, as well as you can with roots wrapping around your insides. You pull out a few petals that were still stuck in your mouth and let them fall to the ground as you slowly sit up. Still slightly hunched over but no longer practically hugging your legs. You wipe your mouth on the back of your hand, blood from your lips smearing across your skin. Eyes on the ground where the mess you made mocks you. There's so much, white and red. White flowers that you would have thought beautiful covered in splotches of your own blood. Tainting the gardenias, tainting the meaning of secret love. Disgusting. You’re disgusting. 

Your eyes linger on the ground as you finally speak. Voice raspy and strained. “Sorry.” 

“Nothin to be sorry about, nasty thing you got. Seen it a few times.” Logan’s voice is gruff, yet there is a touch of something tender in there. Unexpected. You don’t like it. He shouldn’t be treating you like this. He doesn’t know you, he doesn’t know that you’re like this because of him, because of your dumb crush on him that the world decided was good enough to practically kill you.  

Ok that’s not true. You know under his rough and tough demeanor and the huge, insensitive ass he could be. He’s caring and trustworthy. Loyal as fuck and self-sacrificing. It’s what had drawn you in in the first place. The soft look he’d give to people he cared about when no one was looking. The way he treats the younger mutants. It was heartwarming. Your admiration for him turned from simply looking up to him to wanting him to look at you that way.

Silence falls between the two of you again as you continue to try to take in oxygen. The taste of iron and earth is still on your tongue. The sound of fellow mutants distantly chatting and the occasional bird cuts through the silence. You don’t want to talk, you don’t want to tell him who your affliction derives from. You doubt he would ask, but he might. You’ll need to think of an excuse. A lie. Anything to keep him from finding out it is him. He’d reject you. You know this already. You’ve seen him look at others. He doesn’t look at you like that. You just learned he knew your name too! The two of you hardly spoke before. This is the most attention you have ever gotten from him. He doesn’t love you the way the disease needs him to. 

“Who's the asshole?” His words cut through the silence again. Surprising you once more. This definitely is the most words he has ever spoken to you.

“Doesn’t matter… He doesn’t feel the same.” Your throat continued to feel raw. It hurt to speak, but you needed to answer. You couldn’t stay quiet when he asked. Your gaze moves from the ground to glance at him from the side. You try not to meet his eyes but you can see a look on his face that had never been directed towards you. In any other situation you would be happy, ecstatic. Right now though, it makes your stomach tie up in uncomfortable knots. 

A slight hint of anger crosses Logan’s face and his hand just rests on your back, no longer rubbing those soothing circles. You know he wants to know. The look he has on him makes you think he sees you as someone under his protection, it’s nice. Even if it is not really what you want at the moment.

“So you’re willing to die for him.” There was a short pause between his words. His tone is soft, you don’t like it. “Seen most with it die that way. Shouldn’t have to die like that.”

You decide not to reply to the fact that you were willing to die for these feelings. Why? Because you still don’t want to believe it is true. Even with the flowers clearly showing signs the crush was love. Infatuation. You hate this. “Dr. Mccoy is going to perform the surgery for me. Should be any day now.”

You at least hope it will be any day now. You spoke to him a couple days ago and he seemed a bit all over the place so you couldn’t ask him if he was ready yet. You know he hadn’t forgotten, you saw the books laying on one of the tables next to some tools, but time was ticking and it was ticking fast. You know it and now… Now Logan knows it too. You’re on limited time. 

“I… can’t tell him. He doesn’t feel the same, he can’t. I’ll die if I tell him. I have to do the surgery. I’d rather chance not feeling love again than to confess and die. I…” Your hands curl into themselves as you look back down at the flowers. The tightening in your chest squeezes harder. You don’t need to explain yourself, but you feel like you have to. This way you can come to terms with it. Speaking it out loud makes it all too real. “I trust Dr.Mccoy. He won’t fail. He… he can’t.”

“Lotta trust in the guy.” Logan leans back on the bench, his hand lingering on your back removes itself as he crosses his arms. You feel the itch in your throat again, it’s too soon for more petals. You at least hope so. Logan then continues, “Remember watching someone choke on their own blood cause of that shit. Don’t want to see you on that end sweetheart.”

Logan called you sweetheart, again. It made butterflies fly around your stomach, churning with the anxiety already there. It was not the most comfortable of feelings. You weren’t expecting it this time either. It was nice. Would be nicer in better circumstances though. “Thanks Logan, but I’ll survive this. I have to…”

“Still think you should tell me who this asshole is. Could talk to him.” You hear the familiar snikt sound, a clear sign he extended his claws. A glance over was all you needed to confirm he did, the light gleaming off the metal. 

“God no! Sure actions speak louder than words for him, but it wont help.” Because he’d be threatening himself. You couldn’t help but let a pathetic laugh bubble up. Pain radiating through your chest and throat as you do so. At least you can still find some humor in this. Logan’s claws go right back under his skin and between his knuckles at your words. Though you can tell he still seemed interested in using violence against who is causing this for you. God, you wish you could tell him.

The two of you fall into another silence. Your own thoughts are swirling through your head and you’re sure Logan is also dealing with his own thoughts. Your disease is now out there. What truly ales you has been revealed without you actually saying the words. You wished you could have said the words, said what it was, told him your feelings. Though things never work out that way do they. 

You aren’t sure how this was going to end.

Logan looks at you the same time you gaze at him. Your eyes meet his blue ones. You would wax poetic about his eyes, but that seems pretty cliche. Everyone always does when talking about blue eyes, how they look like the ocean, or the sky. Logan’s reminds you of steel, the silvery blue that almost matches the adamantium claws you see on occasion. There is something in those eyes though, something you can’t read. Something behind that wall everyone knows he puts up. You want to dig deeper, fall into those eyes to avoid all your problems. Be free of the pain you can’t escape. The two of you seem to just stare at each other far longer than it felt. 

“Tell me when you get the surgery. I want to be there.” 

“...Okay.”

And just like that, the two of you break eye contact and fall into a silence. A silence only broken by the occasional cough from you and the sounds of nature and other mutants about. You wish you could have experienced this sooner. Before your world decided to crash down on you. You’ll just have to enjoy the time with him like this while you can. Before the feelings you have for him are forever torn away. Leaving only a hollow space in your chest for the fellow mutant. 

You’re not ready. 

~~ :3 !! ~~

Hank Mccoy finally let you know he was ready to do the surgery a few days after your chat with Logan. You weren’t ready for it. You didn’t want to lose these feelings, you didn’t want the complications that may follow, but fuck you don’t want to die either. You will die if you don’t do this surgery. You can’t… You have to do this. 

Which is why you are outside of the room Logan usually occupies when he is in the mansion. You've been standing outside of his room for what felt like hours now. You knew he probably could hear your heartbeat, but he isn’t coming out. He asked to be there when you got the surgery. He wanted to support you for some reason. You could just go, leave and get the surgery without telling him. Your anxiety welling up along with the urge to throw up. Your hand is already raised before you could stop yourself and you knock three times.

Silence follows after. The sound of shuffling and the door opens. Logan standing there in one of those slutty little white tank tops and jeans. A classic look that was all too hot in your opinion. Your mouth feels dry as he looks at you.

“I’m getting it now.” You rub your arm, unable to look him in the eyes. You do look at his face though. Just long enough to see shock cross his face for a few seconds, which quickly vanished back behind his usual look. Logan steps out of his room and shuts the door, head tilting to the side a bit as he waits for you to start walking to Hank’s lab. 

The two of you walk silently through the halls. It was late in the afternoon. You could have gotten it earlier in the day but your body was so exhausted from the coughing fit you had that night that you couldn’t bring yourself to get out of bed. In fact you’re still in your pajamas mostly. Sweatpants and a t-shirt. Comfy. You’re going into surgery, you deserve not to dress up for it. Logan doesn’t comment on it either so it’s fine. You’re fine. 

Everything is fine.

The two of you enter the lab quietly. No one else seems to be here but Hank. After all, one else knew. People knew you were sick of course, but you kept a tight lip on what exactly was inflicting you.

Hank greets you with your name. A look of surprise as his eyes drop onto Logan. Quickly he glanced back at you and you just shrugged your shoulders slightly. Letting Hank know the situation. How Logan knew what was wrong with you and wanted to be here with you. Moral support from the emotionally constipated x-men. Well, mostly constipated. 

After going over the procedures and what needed to be done you step behind the curtains, changing into one of those flimsy hospital gowns. The cool air nipping at your skin as you bite your bottom lip. You were scared. You didn’t want this. You couldn’t do this. You can’t do this! You don’t want to lose your feelings for Logan. He just now is starting to show you attention. It’s not fair! You shouldn’t have to deal with this! You can’t, you can’t, you can’t, you can’t, you can’t, you can’t, you can’t. 

“Are you okay?” Hank's voice cuts through your spiral. Eyes watering and your chest heaving. Ohm you were crying. No, you were sobbing again. Your hands are shaking at your side. You glance at the curtain that hid you from the other two. You know they heard you crying, heard you falling apart. How embarrassing. Your hand grips at the gown, bunching it up at your chest as you take a shaky breath. Lungs barely able to hold a full inhale. 

“Yeah… Yeah sorry. I’m ok. I’m ready.” You step out from behind the curtain. Clear concern was on the blue mutant's face. You can’t read the others. You don’t like this. You silently pad over to the table, bed, whatever it is, that is set up for you. Another strained breathe and you sit on the surface. A glance at the two of them and you lay back. You’re surprised the professor wasn’t here to help out. Maybe he wasn’t needed. Hank could handle this on his own. You can handle this. Logan was here, you didn’t want him here, but it was a strange comfort knowing the man you loved was here to support you. Even if said surgery would remove all feelings for him. How poetic. 

You stare at the ceiling, unsure of what to do as Hank moves around you. Logan who had been leaning on the wall walks over and takes your hand in his. Holding it as if you would shatter at the softest of touches. You hate it. 

“Offer still stands darlin’. Can make the guy love you back.” Although the words would work well in a teasing tone. There was a hint of seriousness behind it. Like he didn’t want you to go under. To have the gardenias removed from your chest. Your hand squeezes his weakly. You knew you didn’t have much time left. You had to do this or confess. Only one of those was an actual option.

Hank returns and holds up the mask. You lift your head up as he slides it over your mouth and nose. It��s too late. You can feel the tears threatening to fall again. You’re scared. Your grip on Logan’s hand tightens as Hank moves around you, making sure you’re hooked up correctly. Your vision starts to blur slightly. You try to inhale the gas as deeply as you could, it hurt. Your lungs didn’t want to fill, you think you can feel the roots wiggling deeper through your lungs and closer to your heart. Your eyes are on Logan, fear clearly radiating off of you. Your own eyes showing the anxiety inside of you. Logan just stands strong next to you. Like a silent guard. 

As the world starts to blacken around you, the corners of the room vanishing slowly. You couldn’t help yourself. You were getting the surgery. You can say the words now. It won’t matter. Your head was already floating and consciousness was fading. Eyes focusing on Logan, like a tunnel. All you could see was him as the world around you slowly vanished into nothingness.   Three words slipped out of you without much thought.

“I love you.” 

The world shifts and the world goes dark. 

The quiet beeping echos. A steady rhythm that matches the slight pounding in your head. Your eyes slowly open, only to quickly shut again. The lights were a bit too bright and everything was… Numb. Your mouth feels dry and you physically can’t feel anything. Did the surgery go wrong? Why can’t you feel anything? A groan bubbles up from your throat as you force your eyes to open. That’s when you feel it.

You can feel every muscle, every fiber of the blanket covering you. The heaviness in your chest is gone. You take a breath. You can… You can take a breath. Your lungs are fully filled with oxygen. Chest rising higher than it has in months. You can breathe. Your eyes open again, the bright fluorescent lights above you illuminate the room. You tilt your head away from looking up at the ceiling. Eyes moving around the room. Gaze falling on the little monitor you’re hooked up to. The beeping was your heartbeat. Ok. That looked good. 

Your head turns the other direction as you take in another sweet deep breath. Eyes landing on Logan. He was still here, sitting beside your bed, head lolled to the side clearly asleep. Your chest tightens in the familiar feeling you have been dealing with for months. That can’t be right. You shouldn’t still be feeling this longing. You shouldn’t still be feeling the warmth that spreads through you over the fact that he had stayed. You shouldn’t be feeling the soft tug on your heart as you look at him or the soft smile pulling on your lips.

This was wrong. Something was wrong. You raise the arm that wasn’t hooked up to all the devices and set it on your chest. There was pain there, raw and uncomfortable, but there was no bump on your chest to show there was a bandage, no pain pulling at your skin. The pain you felt was all under your skin. This isn’t right, something is wrong. Your chest felt clear but you have no evidence that you underwent the surgery. You force yourself to sit up. Pain shoots down your spine. You groaned in pain and a hand was suddenly pressing down on your shoulder. Forcing you back onto the bed. Logan had gotten up.

“Logan?” Your voice was scratchy. It felt just like the times you coughed up all those flowers when he found out. “What… What’s going on? Why do I…” 

“Yeah it’s me. Lay back down. Can’t have you moving around too much yet.” Logan’s hand was still on your shoulder, a gentle pressure making you lay back down onto the bed. Your eyebrows furrowing in confusion at the look he is giving you. You can’t read him. “Don’t talk too much either. Hank said you got to heal.”

Yet you’re pretty sure you didn’t get the surgery though! You should be dead. You… You told Logan how you felt. How you still feel. Yet the urge to cough is gone. Your chest feeling lighter than it has since before the disease took its hold on your life. That has to mean something. Something happened when you went under. What happened? Why won’t he tell you? Why is he looking at you like that? 

Logan’s hand finally pulled away from your shoulder. He just stares down at you as you stare at him. Silence falls between you two. His hand then slowly moves again. Your eyes darting down to the hand. Slowly his hand goes to push some hair out of your face. The same look he has been giving you for the past few months crosses his face. You still don’t know what it means, but it is making your stomach flip. 

“Glad you didn’t die for a guy like me. World be a lot darker without you in it.” His hand gently cups your cheek, his thumb gently rubbing your cheek. His hand was soft and warm. The touch a bit too tender for someone like him.

Wait. Wait wait wait. He heard you. He heard what you said before going under. You didn’t go through the surgery yet your chest feels lighter than it should. That could only mean one thing. Your eyes go wide in surprise and your lips part as you go to speak. Pain still itching at your throat.

“You heard me…” Of course he heard you! He was right next to you holding your hand. He has enhanced senses. He heard you confess. He heard you say you loved him. You’re still alive, you still feel for him and you confessed! That has to mean. Your face suddenly lights up. Heat pooling both on your cheeks and in your stomach. There is only one explanation. There is only one way you were able to live and still feel this way. Logan loved you back. That doesn’t make sense though! Before you started smelling like flowers the two of you never spoke to one another. Yet he…

He loved you back.

“Yeah, I did. Could have told me sooner to save you the pain. Told ya I’d make sure the guy felt the same.” His hand leaves your face. He turns to grab the chair he had been sitting in before and pulls it over. The chair legs screeching across the floor making you flinch at the noise. Once the chair was next to you he sat down and took your hand in his again. Once more treating you like glass. Though you appreciate it, you feel like glass right now. 

Logan lifts your hand up to his face, blue eyes staring straight into your own as his lips find your knuckles. Leaving a soft kiss. You were already blushing before, but you swear you feel like you’re on fire. His lips brushing against your knuckles as he speaks once more. You really aren’t used to hearing him speak so much. “Looks like we got a lot to talk about sweetheart.”

You just silently nod, unable to break your gaze from his. Your hand is lowered, your heart beating out of your chest. You are sure he can hear it. You lick your lips, unable to speak a word out of fear you’ll embarrass yourself further. Logan just chuckles slightly, a deep reverberating one. 

“Guess I should say it, not really good with the emotions shit, but I love you too.”

A few blinks and then a small laugh comes out of you. A wince follows after, but the biggest grin spreads on your face. All it took was you almost dying to finally hear those three little words. You’ll never look at gardenias the same again, nor will you be able to stand the sickly sweet smell of a strong floral scent. That doesn’t matter to you though. You obtained something you thought was unattainable. The love of the man you were in love with. The secret love no longer hidden. 

You can now understand the look Logan was giving you. It was the same you had been giving him. You both were in love with each other but were unsure how to go about it. All it took was the flowers that no longer were growing inside of you. 

You finally say the words, more confident than when you went under. “I love you.” 

“Love you too sweetheart.” 

[eempyreall]

♪ 𝑆uper Soaker 𝑏𝑦 Ashnikko ♪

༺ Experimental Doll ༻

Oneshot ~ Female Bonten Trio x Female Reader

Summary ~ When you joined Bonten, you had no clue that you’d end up being forced to play as their doll.

Featuring ~ Sanzu Haruchiyo and the Haitani Sisters

This story should only be posted under eempyreall on my tumblr and ao3. Report if you see it posted under anyone else but me.

l apologize if I get any Japanese etiquette or culture wrong, I literally have to research the culture for some of my fandom stories so if anything is wrong, please excuse my ignorance.

Warning ~

You and the characters are 21+. Although I picture the reader as a black cis-gendered female, physical appearance will not be described at all.

Content within this story may not be realistic or factual.

I do not condone any of the behavior displayed within the story.

There may be dark content such as: gore, violence, triggering topics, graphic scenes, vulgar language, explicit content, sexual content, non consensual and/or dubious consensual content, etc.

That being said, this story is for 18+ only.

It is hard being the type of woman you are in this society.

It doesn’t help being surrounded by other women who fit into the various feminine archetypes—something you’ve always wanted to be included in.

You couldn’t help your background, raised by guardians who taught you to be overly independent without realizing the harm it may cause to the future you who wanted nothing else but to become a completely different person.

You tried following the beauty gurus, the social media trends, the videos that give numerous tips, but it never felt like who you truly are. You want to feel the freedom of living as a bimbo or a seductress. Femme fatale? You didn’t really fit into any of those archetypes.

When you joined the criminal organization full of strong, mentally unwell women, you hadn’t expected anything to change. In fact, you felt slightly better being surrounded by other dominant figures. You felt like you finally belonged somewhere. That was—until you met Sanzu and the Haitani sisters.

“You’re always so uptight, Y/n. Do you ever loosen up?” the younger Haitani says as she takes a sip of her alcoholic beverage, the black ink on her neck prominent. The front strands of her purple hair fall over her face, while the rest of her mullet is pulled back into a loose bun.

The pencil skirt she wears exposes her thigh as she crosses one leg over the other. Her back is leaned against the chair, sitting in the club she and her sister own. Her heels are set to the side of the chair, and her painted toenails are visible through her skin-colored tights.

You are sitting on the sofa in front of her, arms crossed, your suit tight against your figure. You frown at the younger sister before pulling out your phone and shifting your attention to the screen.

You are the designated driver, taking over Kakucho’s usual placement when the Haitani Sisters and Sanzu go out. Considering she’s assigned to a mission, she asked you politely to take over, something you have never done.

You’ve seen the way the sadistic pink and purple haired women act. They like to play with their prey purely out of boredom. They find amusement with others suffering. Although you’re in Bonten and have murdered people before, you kill swiftly.

They like to get ridiculously inebriated, ironically entrapping various men by stealing from them for fun or killing them after their hookups. They brag about the stories to Kakucho, Kokonoi, and Takeomi. You just so happen to overhear the conversations considering it was usually at the meeting table before Mikey would walk in.

You were envious of how masculine the women are and yet they could always switch. The men around you all flocked shamelessly to them, no matter how badly they were treated. They have the ability to use their physical features to their advantage, something you’ve never had the option to experience.

Ran sits next to you, her head leaning on your shoulder as her lilac hair falls gracefully down her back. You see the reflection of her purple eyes from the black screen of your phone when you press the power button.

“What the hell are you doing?” You question as her acrylics are set right above your breast, making herself comfortable in the seat.

“Awe, why’d you turn it off? Whatever,” she says as she sits back up, turning her attention to some random guy she brought into the vip section.

“Watch this,” she lazily smirks, mischief prominent in her gaze as she calls the guy over. When he arrives, she points down to the floor.

“Down boy,” she commands, taking the blunt from his hand before she brings it to her lips. The man complies like a robot and kneels in front of her, becoming her footrest as she puts her feet on top of his back, heels still on. She crosses a bare, slender leg over the other as she takes another long hit from the flower.

“Men are so pathetic,” Rin says, rolling her eyes as she takes another sip from her glass.

You look up to the right side of Ran as you watch the pink haired woman make her way over, laughing at the display in front of her, the scars on her lips curving with her stretched lips. Her bright eyelashes flutter as she flips her long pink hair from her shoulder. Her blue irises glare down at the man with amusement as she lifts her leg, the end of her heel pressing onto the back of the man beside Ran’s legs. Her hands meet her hips as she continues to push pressure against the grunting man.

Your eyebrows furrow at the weird behavior while you watch the man tremble. You don’t understand why he’s taking their shit, but you’re nobody’s savior. If he doesn’t want to save himself then nobody can save him.

“I bet he has a boner too!” Sanzu laughs as she repeatedly stomps the male’s back before Ran pushes him from the side with her heels, causing him to lose his balance and fall over, the top of his head hitting against the leg of the table in the middle of the seating area.

“Oh gross! He actually does!” Rin laughs as she slightly leans over to get a look at the man’s bulge.

“Of course he does. This is probably the closest he’s ever been to beautiful women,” Ran shrugs as she takes another hit before offering it to you.

The women’s eyes slightly widen as they watch you take the blunt and lift it to your lips, sucking a huge pull in before breathing in and blowing out a wad of smoke.

You give them a confused look at their stares before asking, “Why are you staring at me like that?”

“I’m just surprised that you smoke weed,” Rin says truthfully. Sanzu and Ran nod in response.

You shrug, “Then you don’t know me,” which is obvious since you kept it that way on purpose. All of the women in Bonten are too dangerous to be friendly with.

“Then let’s get to know you,” Ran says as she twists her body, shoo—ing the male away in the process as she lies her head on your lap. You miss Sanzu walking to the left side of you until you feel the dip in the couch.

“I have a proposition for ya. The best way to really get to know someone is if they are high,” the pink haired demon smiles. You give her a pointed look before shaking your head.

“Hell no. You are not about to have me fucked up. I’m driving all of us home anyway,” you respond, keeping your eyes on Sanzu to avoid eye contact with the woman staring up at you from below.

“I can drive,” Rin jokingly raises her hand. You roll your eyes.

“You’ve literally been drinking,” you respond.

“Hey, I’m a good driver. I’m used to being drunk behind the wheel anyway,” she shrugged.

“I can vouch for her, I’m always a passenger princess anyway,” Ran says as she plays with the tie of your blouse.

“Whatever. I’m not doing drugs,” you say before turning your attention back to Sanzu. “Especially whatever the hell you have.”

Her eyes widened with a blush glowing on her face.

“Hey! I have good shit, you know,” she crossed her arms.

“No I wouldn’t know and I’m not gonna know, addict,” you respond, causing the Haitani sisters to laugh.

Sanzu frowns at you before you turn your attention back to the blunt in your hand, leaning over and passing it to Rin.

Before you could lean back, your jaw is snatched from your left as your lips are forced to connect with softer, glossed lips. The bitter taste of lip gloss and another substance mix together on your tongue as you feel her tongue exploring the inside of your mouth.

“Oh wow!” You hear Rin say as Ran smiles in amusement before sitting up.

You feel Sanzu’s acrylics piercing your skin as you attempt to pull back, your eyebrows raised as blue irises stare into your own. When you try to pull yourself out of her grip, Ran snatched your shoulders, forcing you to fall back as Sanzu climbs on top of you, your head falling onto Ran’s lap.

Her knee is in between your legs as you taste a bitter substance dissolving on your tongue, grunting as you grab her shoulders to push the maniac off of you.

When she releases you, a string of saliva connects both of your lips as she moves back. You eye her with shock and anger as you sit up quickly.

“What the fuck did you just make me take you fucking bitch?!” You snatch her hair as your hand wrapped around her neck, pulling her closer to you.

Sanzu’s face heats up as she gazes at you with wide eyes, caught off guard by your approach. Soon after, a mischievous grin grows on her expression.

“I guess you’ll find out, huh?” She teased you before grabbing your neck, squeezing harshly as her nails prick your skin. Your grip only tightens back, both of you almost nose—to—nose as you glare at her. She only beams a crazed smirk in return.

The Haitani sisters glance at each other with knowing looks of amusement before Ran slides her hands over your arms until she reaches for your hands.

“Let’s relax a bit, yeah?”

Your eyes widen as you release your grip from Sanzu’s hair and neck. You gaze at the hands on your arms, a weird feeling bubbling in your stomach as your senses heighten. The colors of the room begin to slightly blur, the light rays beaming against the skin of Ran’s arm.

“W—what the hell?” You breathe out, jumping up from your seat as the effects of the drug take over your vision. Your heart rate accelerates as you stumble in your stance.

You fall back on the sofa as Ran guides your head back to her lap.

“How are you feeling?” She questions with curiosity, her voice sounding distorted.

You continue to stare at the ceiling, the different colored lights prominent in your vision as you feel warmth forming in your stomach.

“I—I don’t know.”

Rin stands from her seat to hover over you as well as Sanzu mimicking her from the side.

You get caught in a daze by their prominent colored eyes and hair, the pigments swirling together in a slow circle as your pupils enlarge.

A grin forms on Sanzu’s expression.

“It’s working,” she sings.

“Let’s really get to know her,” Rin smiles as she grabs your phone. She uses your face id to unlock the device before taking a shot of you and walking back to her seat to snoop on your phone, blunt still in between her index and middle finger.

The music in the background seems to heighten as you could hear even the smallest note along with the hypnotizing melody.

Ran cradles your head as she gestures for Sanzu to hand her a bottle of the alcohol that’s set on the table.

“Here, have a sip of water,” she offered you. You gulp a sip down after she set the tip to your lip, only to push it away as you begin to cough, the strong liquid burning your throat and chest as some of the alcohol spills on your top.

“She has a journal on her phone!” Rin gasped with excitement as she stretched her arm out for Sanzu and Ran to see the phone’s screen.

“Find something good,” Her sister responds as she loosens your tie, pulling it off of you and tossing the fabric to the side.

“Ooo, this sounds interesting,” Rin says after scrolling for a few seconds.

“W—wait!” You exclaim, coming back to a distorted reality as your gaze shifts to Rin.

“What is it?” Sanzu questions as she walks behind Rin’s chair, snatching the blunt from her hand and bringing it to her lips.

This situation would be more torturous for you if the drug in your system wasn’t so distracting. Not only is your vision playing tricks on your mind, but Ran’s fingers on your head have you stuck in place. The pleasure is overwhelming and hard to ignore, the touches on your skin causing a heightened response. It was hard to focus on one thing at a time. It’s hard to think straight.

After Rin reads the passage, Sanzu tsked as Ran cooed.

“So many insecurities, Y/n. Who would’ve thought you were so sensitive?” She teased as your face and body heat up.

“W—wait, where’s my phone? I need my phone,” you inquire as your hand meets your forehead.

Rin continues to read aloud the passages that she thinks are interesting or even scandalous such as: revealing your deepest insecurities, thoughts on them, and the people around you.

“I can’t tell if she’s jealous or admires us,” Rin chuckled after swiping the window away to snoop through your photos.

“You really think my scars are pretty?” Sanzu hovers over you, the ends of her hair prickling your face while she hands Ran the roach.

“Probably both. Either way, I like it,” Ran responds, taking a large hit of what’s left before pressing the burning end against your skin, causing you to scream in pain as you attempt to sit up. Sanzu blocks you from succeeding.

“I want you to remember this night everytime you look in the mirror, Y/n,” she says, her sultry tone raised slightly so you could hear her voice through your screams. She pressed different spots on your exposed chest before finally leaning over to toss the bent stick into the ashtray.

You couldn’t stop the tears from pouring down, the embarrassment of your exposed journal entries—the pain of the burn marks on your chest. The sensations were heightened from the drug.

Rin stood from her seat before walking to the opposite side of where Sanzu was standing.

“How about you become our personal little doll, hm? We can dress you up—play with you. Anything we want, whenever we want,” she says.

This was only the start.

As weeks went on, the women would dress you, do your makeup, force you to try on different items that they had bought just for you.

You didn't want to admit that to a certain extent, you enjoyed the attention. You’ve never experienced having attentive friendships with other women so it’s not like you had many encounters to compare.

Not to mention the attention you’ve gained from the men around you. Especially in the clubs. There’s been a couple of moments when either Sanzu or the Haitani sisters had to beat someone’s ass or shoot them for being perverted towards you.

However, there were moments that made you uncomfortable with their overbearing behavior. One memory in particular…

“This is fucking insane!” You struggle against Sanzu’s hold on your wrists, the fabric of the towel under you scrunching up as you squirm, bare legs shut tightly.

“Hey! Stop whining and spread your legs,” Rin commanded, her fingers digging into the skin of your thighs before using her strength to force your legs open.

Ran sat comfortable on the bed, leaning her back against the headboard as she swiped through your phone, something that you’ve screamed at them to stop, though they never listen.

You stopped writing in your phone’s journal and bought a real notebook because of this issue so there haven't been any new entries. You don’t understand why they continue to check your phone.

“Do you need a sleeping pill or something?” Sanzu questioned with irritation, pink hair draping over her shoulders.

Ran loosened her own tie, tossing the fabric to Sanzu who quickly tied your wrists together before pushing her head through the open space of your arms. She grabs under your legs before pulling them up and spreading them, causing her to lean back against the headboard with both of her legs on either side of you.

You almost cry in embarrassment as you watch Rin snatch the razor from the bed and the coconut oil. You shut your eyes tightly as you avoid eye contact while you feel her hand lather the substance on your bare pussy.

“Finally! You know, I wouldn’t have to do this if you would have done it yourself, Y/n,” Rin states.

“It’s none of your fucking business what my vagina looks like,” you hissed, your arms stretched uncomfortably as you basically hang from Sanzu’s neck.

“Have you forgotten your place? What’s yours is ours so if you don’t take care of it, then we will,” Ran states as Rin uses the razor in one hand, while holding a wet cloth in her other hand.

You’re exhausted from the constant use of drugs that they force into you whether with your knowledge or not. There’s been a couple of times when you have woken up in questionable positions.

In fact, there have been moments where you have woken up in one of their bedrooms—naked and confused with a raging headache and soreness from your vagina. Dreams that may have been memories playing through your brain.

“W—wait,” you groan, your hands grabbing the shoulders above you as your head falls to the side, eyeing the display on the chair.

Sanzu’s hair flips as she grinds her hips against the red, rubber cock inside of her. One of her hands grabs onto Rin’s shoulder as her head falls back. Your drug induced vision caused Rin’s smirk to appear more prominent, her teeth meeting her bottom lip as her hands grabbed onto Sanzu’s hips, guiding her.

You cried out, a rubbery shaft stretching you from below had your body tensing. Your mouth hangs open with your nose scrunched as your attention shifts to the lilac haired woman above you.

The devious smile stretches across her face with her heavy—lidded eyes, irises glowing through the pretty colors of the vip room. She has your legs pinned in place, scissoring her own as she grinds her hips against your lower region, the cock sinking deeper with each thrust as the head of it presses against your g-spot. Her pink nipples are hardened as her plump breasts bounce to the rhythm, your eyes blurring from the tears.

When you first woke up in Sanzu’s bedroom and saw that you and all three of the other girls were naked, you knew that something happened while you were high the night before. In those moments, you would begin to feel sick and dirty.

The more they dressed you with what they deemed as fit, made decisions for you—filling you up with pills, alcohol, and rubber cocks—the more confused you began to feel about your identity.

Who the hell are you?

There was even a time when you had a breakdown when you were alone in your bathroom at the penthouse you were given when you joined Bonten.

“Why does it even matter?” Rin questioned as her arms circled behind your waist while you stared at your reflection in the mirror, the warmth of her breath heavy on your neck.

“Dolls don’t need to think.”

“Y/n, I’ve noticed that you’ve been distracted from work,” Mikey states, half of her platinum hair pulled into a loose tuft while the rest falls just above her shoulders.

She sits with a leg crossed over in the chair of the empty meeting room as you stand to the side. Your arms are behind your back, fingers around your wrist tightening with anxiety.

“I apologize for my inadequacy, Boss. It won’t happen again,” you bow with respect.

“Some of the executives advised me that you haven’t completed most of your recent missions,” she states. Your eyes widen as you stand upright.

“Dolls don’t get dirty, Y/n. They do nothing but sit pretty,” Ran states while eyeing you, baton slung over her shoulder.

You are sitting on the ground of the warehouse with your wrists cuffed behind your back. Your ankles are cuffed together as well.

“I have to complete my mission! Are you trying to get me killed by Mikey?” You’re beyond frustrated with this whole “doll,” shit.

You hear a blood curdling scream following after a loud crack from the traitor who’s sprawled out on the ground. Rin’s shoe crushes the man’s leg into a disfigured position. Sanzu places the barrel of the gun inside the man’s mouth to shut him up.

“No need to worry your pretty little head over things that we will take care of,” she teased while patting your head.

“I’ve decided to demote your position as an executive. The Haitani sisters have offered to become your advisors for missions so you will be working under their command.”

You could only stare at your boss with wide eyes. You didn’t want to accept the conditions, but you couldn’t deny Mikey.

“What the fuck is your problem?!” You exclaim after slamming the door to the vip section of the club open.

You walk right up to the trio who stood with bored expressions on their faces.

“You lied to Mikey and now I’ve been demoted!”

“And you’re blaming us for what?” Rin crossed her arms.

“Don’t pretend you had nothing to do with this. I know it was you three!” You exclaim slamming a finger against her chest.

“You need to relax. The yelling shit is getting old quickly,” Sanzu scolded you, snatching your wrist from Rin’s chest.

“I’m tired of this weird bullshit. You don’t own me. I’m nobody’s fucking toy,” you crossed your own arms as you eyed all of them. “I don’t want to hang out anymore. You’re nothing but fucking weirdos who have control issues.”

Your head is forced to the side as you feel a stinging sensation on your cheek, blood dripping from your nose.

Your eyes are wide before you pull your arm back and backhand Sanzu, a grunt leaving her lips.

She quickly recovers with a reddened hue on her angry facial expression, blood dripping from her nose as both of her hands wrap around your neck. She squeezed your air way shut which causes you to claw at her hands.

Rin rolled her eyes as Ran watched the display with an unamused gaze.

Sanzu forced you to land on the couch, back against the seat as she climbed on top of you. You continue to struggle by attempting to peel her fingers off of you—failing in the process. You reach for her neck but your arms grow weak as the corner of your vision becomes engulfed by black dots.

The Haitani sisters hover over you. Everything felt suffocating—the glares, the hands around your throat, and the circumstances that led to this point.

You began to cough and suck in harsh breaths once Sanzu released you, your own hands grazing against the bruised skin of your neck.

“Why do you have so much fight in you? We could’ve gotten you fired and killed. Why not accept your position?” Rin questioned.

“Because it isn’t fair! You’re taking everything from me! My job, my identity, and my dignity! What more do you fucking want?” Your hands meet your head as your nails prick your scalp.

This isn’t exactly what you had in mind when you wanted to learn to release control and lean into your feminine side. This also isn’t what you expected for close friendship to be like. This entire situation has confused you and the drugs are taking a toll on your mental health.

You admired the women in front of you at first, but now you see who they truly are. It has been a truly confusing journey and you’ve realized that maybe you should have been grateful for who you were before.

Maybe you should’ve been more grateful for your freedom of identity instead of allowing others to dictate everything about you in desperation of yearning to be someone else.

Maybe if you had accepted yourself from the beginning, it wouldn’t have been so easy for someone to swoop in and manipulate you into becoming who they want you to be. You may not know who you are, but you know that this isn’t the ideal life for you.

“What have I told you about thinking so hard, Y/n? Dolls don’t need to think,” Ran reminded you.

“I’m not a fucking doll! I’m a human being! Are you mentally unwell?”

A hand snatches your jaw as piercing blue eyes embed themselves with your own irises.

“You’re whatever the fuck we tell you to be. You can either get that through your skull, or leave Bonten by dying from Mikey’s hand,” Sanzu hissed.

“I guess I’ll just have to die then! I’d rather have freedom than to keep living for other people!” You exclaim.

“You’re not gonna die until we want you to,” Rin says in response.

“Pretty girl, you’re mine forever,” Rin says as her face dips between your bare legs.

Ran rummages through Sanzu’s purse, the bag placed on the table. When she finds the tabs, she peels one out and drops it into Rin’s unfinished glass of alcohol.

“Maybe we should keep you drugged more often. I like it better when you’re begging for me to make you cum,” Sanzu chuckled, blood soaking her teeth as she smiled.

You were bent over on all fours, your face lying on the bed as you begged Sanzu to stop her thrusts. You had already orgasmed three times, the overstimulation becoming painful as she continued to use the strap-on against you from behind.

“You’re gonna cum again because I want you to,” she hissed, her fingers tightening against your ass.

“I think that’s a great idea,” Ran says as she squeezed your cheeks, forcing your mouth open as Sanzu held your wrists down.

Rin switches positions and uses one hand to press your forehead down to keep you pinned in place while using her other fingers to squeeze your nose shut.

You are forced to gulp down the roofied beverage as you shut your eyes tightly from the burning sensation of the alcohol.

“You’re so perfect like this, my pretty doll,” Ran whispered in your ear before her teeth met with your neck.

Your life is no longer your own…

But was it ever truly yours?

[mercif4l]

(𝗱𝗼𝗻'𝘁 𝗺𝗮𝗸𝗲 𝗺𝗲) 𝗯𝗲𝗴 𝗳𝗼𝗿 𝘆𝗼𝘂 — ksy

MDNI, this blog is for 18+ users only. blank blogs will be blocked.

pairing: afab!reader x kwon soonyoung

word count: 2.4k

summary: hoshi's second favorite place to be is between your thighs. no flight will take that away from him.

content warning: smut smut smut, boyfriend!hoshi, nudity, explicit sexual acts (dirty talk, oral: f. receiving, fingering, teasing), soonyoung is a brat lmfao

a/n: ty all for the love on the teaser it really means the world 😭 hoshi is a BITER argue with the wall. go listen to charli xcx's 'beg for you' ft vernon! thank u so much to @haologram, @beomcoups, @wonuwoe and @jenoslutie for helping me through the terrors of posting on tumblr for the first time ᥫ᭡

Soonyoung had laughed when you’d taught him about kink vocabulary. The first time you called him a ‘service top’, he’d conflated it with being a milkman or a post officer. He’d had a fit in the Don Quixote cleaning aisle about urban dictionary and spent the whole walk home collating the worst modern sex-terms. 

None of that changed the fact you were right (as always) and he was being over-dramatic (as always). 

Just like he is right now. 

Kissing you like its sleep for the exhausted; with desperation, total familiarity, and a warmth that makes everything a bit hazey. Where the thought of leaving any part of you untouched by his mouth makes him feel physically ill. But he’s on a time crunch, one you won’t let him wistfully ignore, and that means compromises must be made.

It’s shocking how each time he touches you, pinching this and soothing his tongue over that, it feels like the first time. Each kiss followed by a gasp and relieved groan. Is it how he takes his sweet time nibbling beneath your earlobe? Or grazing his nails over the curve of your spine? Or how he flushes pink every time you so much as pant for him? 

Whatever the answer, his reaction remains the same: total pride. Arrogance, really, at the fact he just can and he never has to ask.

In fairness, you’re not doing very well to tame him. Every moan he elicits presses like a gold star to the bottom of his belly, its outline warming the flesh til it burns: a reward for being so good that you can’t hold it in. 

Almost like butterflies, if they were on fire and could make him cum in his pants untouched.

You curl a lock of his hair between your fingers and nudge him over. Away from your chest, away from your fluttering ribcage, away away away, just anywhere but on you. 

Soonyoung whines, because of course he does, and fixates on kissing your palm as you mumble: “Gotta go, baby.” 

They sound like the last words he’ll ever hear from your Venusian lips (Drama.)

But he knows this look. This tone. The non-committal ‘no’ that you try your best to squeeze out. Like a false alarm; a reminder that he can only have so much fun before you run off to prove a point.

So, instead of stopping like you suggest, he brings his forehead up to yours and, with the weight of his entire body, presses you down into the pillows. 

“Wanna… wanna make you feel good. Said you’d let me.” 

God, he’s so whiny. It really would annoy you if it didn’t make your legs cross and your mouth salivate. 

“I know, but—“ All it takes to shut you up is a hump to your thigh, his slacks pulled tight as his bulge leaks onto you. Your eyes close at the wet feeling; he plays you for a fool every time you try to deny him. 

So, instead you finish your own sentence with a resigned “I know.” and decide to at least let him try. 

And he might have successfully hidden his shit-eating grin, were it not now pressed against your stomach. 

“Oh my god, you’re so annoying.” 

A giggle echoes out across the room and whether it’s his or yours, you’re both too excited to notice. Always a bit too distracted with the feeling of each other. “Sorry, sorry baby,” it’s a lie—he’s not sorry at all. 

It’s obvious in the way he bounces down the bed; the twinkle of his eyes as his middle and forefinger lace beneath the waistband of your stockings, gently tugging them down your leg. 

It’s even more obvious in the pleased grumble that follows them all the way down. 

Soonyoung has been scolded one too many times to repeat the same mistake of ripping them off. He knows how bratty you get when your belongings become collateral to his prone bone, how vengeful you can be. How long you’re happy to go without his touch and how painful it is to go without yours. 

His shoulders tense at the memory. The frustration enforced a stark change in behavior all within that one week of celibacy. 

“Always so… so gentle for—mmh, me…. good boy, so good baby,” when you’re like this, it’s the easiest rule to obey in the world. After all, positive reinforcement is the foremost currency for buying Kwon Soonyoung’s patience. 

A shiver stutters through your body, goosebumps forming against his chin as it lies snug against your thigh. 

“Cute.” 

“Shut up..” there’s no hiding the smile this time. It’s plain across his features as he bites his bottom lip.

“Yes, ma’am.” 

Not a moment later and he’s back to nibbling at your flesh (just as an excuse to lick over it). Saliva draws a path up your thigh and you laugh over this obsession he’s developed: the obsession with having his tongue on you. 

It’s hard to forget his bashful admission that ‘tasting every part of you’ turned him on. How his pupils had blown so wide, bright red fingers covering his bright red nose, firm arms curled over his head to obscure your view of his equally bright red ears. 

The same fingers that fluttered at your hips, and the same fingers that sit an inch away from his second favorite place to lie: between your legs (the first being between your arms, as the small spoon, with his head resting on your tits.)

He lets a hot breath trail across your underwear before pressing his nose up against you with a sigh. His hands sneak behind your ass and hold onto you. Not pulling or pushing, just holding. Thrumming. Pressing. 

“You drumming something out down there?”

Your boyfriend nips back at you this time, with a “wouldn’t you like to know.” and his best attempt at a smirk.

“Loser.” it comes as a half-truth, half-joke, but he takes it as a challenge. Typical.

After a single snort, he urges your knees to spread wider with a gentle bite to one side. He practically slobbers his way up to your heat, only closing his soaked mouth when he makes a show of smelling you.

“Gross. Stop it—“ you find it near impossible to overpower him and clamp your legs close, even more irritated by his unbothered face as his toned and slick arms keep you spread. 

“Not gross. Smells good, baby, wanna smell like you…” the crass idea of him wanting to smell like your slick isn’t what shuts you up.

What stuns you to silence is his nose dragging back and forth, side to side, around and around, filling the air with your whimpers as you fuss against the headboard. 

You know that he knows he’s being mean. The layer of fabric between you is leaving so little to the imagination, your want seeping through it, and you just might let him rip them off this time, just to close that distance and finally fucking—

Your imaginary protest is forgotten the second he takes the hem of your underwear between his teeth, dragging them all the way off.

What a pretty mouth.

“Thank you.” you realize a beat too late that you’ve said that out loud. 

The shine of his bared teeth (and the wetness that had collected in your panties, now smothered across his chin) makes you roll your eyes.

You smile back, calling him a “brat.” 

And he was a total brat. And it was totally your fault. 

But there’s no time to enjoy the following silence when he’s so hard that he might pass out. Instead, he lays flat on his stomach and bends one knee, starting to rock against the mattress underneath you both. By the time he finishes making a mess of your skin (and himself), he’s hungry. 

And if he kisses like it’s sleep to the exhausted, then Soonyoung eats like a starved man. 

His own spit mixes with your wetness in one languid, indulgent lick, and suddenly, he’s everywhere. Fast, breathy laps at your clit, his tongue traveling in tight circles, vibrating as he grunts shamelessly on top of you. Your back curves inward as you attempt to muffle your own sighs. 

Desperately trying to hear him mumble away inside you. Try being the key word; its way too much way too quick for you to keep quiet. 

Soonyoung would call it something obnoxious: say it was world-ending, but all the attention and worship from his mouth and hands and the heat of his every breath on you might just justify his drama. 

His lithe fingers and their angel touch—the kind of sensation you’d only be blessed with in heaven. To experience it like this, all sweaty and red and alive, feels a bit like sin.

Feels even better knowing that he’s dry humping himself to a climax over it. 

Happy tears destroy your mascara as he savors you without pause or pity.

The room is warmed by his hopeless whispers of praise: ‘so pretty’, ‘so wet’, ‘thank you’, ‘god’, ‘needed this’ and ‘love you’. With his sweet, sweet moans, and the occasional squeak that means he’s definitely slowing himself down against the mattress to avoid coming before you.

Still, you can’t help but stare at him—even through your bleary eyes. If you weren’t lost in your own unintelligible whimpers, you might think to take a photo. 

The scene is debauched, lewd, and so fucking hot, and all you want is to savor it forever, to keep it on your person like a badge of honor.

His wild eyes flicking between you and your twitching legs, pupils blown so wide you can’t help but purr. The whimpering that catches in his wet throat and comes out obscenely loud anyway. How desperate he is to watch you feeling good, and how the look on your face as he soaks you in his tongue is priceless. 

Soonyoung lifts himself up briefly to spit on his fingers. With the string of saliva collecting on your throbbing pussy, he slides them through your entrance and beckons inward. A come here kind of gesture. The kind he knows will make you squeal and press your thighs hard against his cheeks. 

Your boyfriend knows your body better than his own. Every freckle on your skin, or every mole that appears where you can’t spot it, and seeks it out just so the knowledge is his and his alone; so it can’t be kept by anyone else (and after however many years, this secret is amongst the closest to his heart.)

“God, you’re so wet. so wet baby, so warm too, fuuuuck, so warm.. wanna, hmm gonna, gonna live between your legs. gonna, oh fuck—“ his garbles between your lips entertain you enough to smile. You watch closely when his hips stutter as he works himself up, drool gathering in the corner of his lips at the thought of making you cum like this. 

“So pretty this way… my pretty girl, feels good?” his mouth is salivating, throat mewling as he watches you rock your hips into him, driving against his face so deliciously, presenting yourself to him.

Of course, he takes it. It’s too generous a gift to refuse. 

He knows his favorite present is yet to come but it won’t take much more waiting, the tell tale signs of your orgasm already smothering your face.

The thought turns his eyes into those famous crescent moons and you try to rest your hands beside them, to show him an ounce of affection, but they end up yanking his hair back after one particularly loud slurp against your clit. 

All that sudden vibration catches you totally off guard. It’s messy and long and so desperate that you can’t help but shove his head a little further closer.

His fingers curl slower and slower against that tender spot inside you, so deliberate in caressing it each and every pass that you can’t help but start to shake. 

Your heartbeat is so loud in your ears that you’re almost scared it’s going to stop. Every breath he chases from you is labored and short and you think you might just die, when—

“Gonna come? please, baby, baby… c’mon, don’t make me beg for you.” he’s literally sobbing, begging you not to force a ‘please’ from him, ignorant of the fact that he’s already begged and pleased several times already. It’s no surprise he’s too pussydrunk to notice—he’s always this way. Fucked dumb with the joy of watching you get off.

The image makes your cunt clench around him that bit tighter, too excited and too overstimulated, you can’t help but come. Goosebumps prickle against his skin as your legs wrap tight around his head (and this maybe his other favorite part: holding his breath as you tremor above him.)

And then, they drop, your hips quivering and abdomen seizing as they try to handle your climax. Which might make him upset, if he weren’t busy coaxing you through it with long, wet, licks, one firm hand caressing your lower back as it convulses, the other speeding up as it furls and unfurls within you. Stringing it out just that bit more.

It’s more than enough for Soonyoung to finish, much more embarrassingly, in his pants against the duvet he’d so fervently been jerking over this whole time. 

He whimpers against your soaked cunt and the overstimulation makes you roll over, leaving him face up to your side, hand worming its way into yours.

“Fuck. If I miss my flight— fuck. you’re, ugh I can’t believe I let you— you’re so driving me to the airport.” your tone is directly contradicted by just how tight you squeeze his hand back.

He doesn’t say anything, trying real hard to hide the shit-eating grin on his face. Which only lasts as long as he can hold his laughter (about five seconds) and then he’s thrashing about as you shove him back and forth. 

“Asshole!” 

“Sorry, I’m sorry baby, I just—“ 

“God, you suck—“ 

He turns over at that, resting his cheek on your stomach and looking up at you through his eyelashes. 

“Yea, baby. Yes I do.” 

penned by rowan, still a result of this insane video

[drdemonprince]

At one point he was down in between my legs, fingering me, and he made a throwaway comment about probably being Autistic. 

I leaned back, trying to relish what pleasure I was getting. “Well, we can talk about that subject, if you like,” I said vaguely, not really wanting to bring my professional life into things. 

He kept working away at my body, kissing between my lips and thighs. “Oh I know who you are,” he said suddenly. “Your book changed my life. In a way, I guess this is me thanking you.” 

I made him exit my body and we went to the kitchen to hash it out. It turned out he was a big fan of many things I’d written. 

“I’ve seen you around the neighborhood many times,” he confessed. “But you posted online that you don’t like when people come up to you, and so I always decided to leave you alone.” 

He said, “Your book is the reason I got divorced, actually. My ex-husband was a therapist, and when I showed him your book and said I thought I might be Autistic, he didn’t believe me. We have been separated for a year.” 

He asked, “Did I just make this weird, telling you when I did that I was a fan?” I told him that if he’d said it sooner, I would have never fucked him at all. 

People never realize that when they approach me, what they are doing is dragging me into work. It doesn’t matter whether I was at breakfast, or an orgy. I was just some guy standing there, enjoying his beer, but now they have made me the known scholar and author. And sure, my job might be meaningful, but that doesn’t mean I like to work. 

I tell my friend that I no longer want to be a public figure, and that I am planning how to make it all end. She tells me, “You’ve got to do what is the best for you, even if it’s something that the rest of us wants and can’t imagine giving up.” 

I ask myself, did I want this? It would be more flattering to say I didn’t, and play the role of the hermetic author whose work developed its own life purely because it was so good. But that isn’t true. 

From the moment I got a Myspace account in high school, I was publishing essays about my political views. I serialized multiple novels on Tumblr, guerilla marketing them with giveaways and custom-made images until they hit the Kindle sales charts. I have made memes, tried starting viral trends, coined phrases, and given hundreds of hours’ worth of media interviews. I write prescriptive nonfiction, for Christ’s sake. Of course people seek guidance from me. I offer it up! 

I have been strategic about how I dress, and my video backdrops, and retaken clips of myself speaking over and over again until they sounded right. I’ve hosted debates with my most vicious critics while I’m in the shower, started public beef with creators who had larger accounts than I did, and rushed to my keyboard when upsetting news broke, because I alone was possessed of the most correct take on it.

I wanted this. I didn’t know what this was, this internet fame I was chasing, but I did all I could to make it mine. I thought that by writing so much, I would one day be able to escape myself, maybe really feel connected to other people. Instead it has meant never being able to stop thinking about myself: how I am seen, what I am working on, how it all fits together, what comes next. It has also meant being spoken about, theorized about, and criticized, and developing a firm exoskeleton of disdain between myself and the world. 

I believe now that that it is immoral for any person to be listened to by ninety thousand other people. Holding authority and status like that runs counter to my anarchic ideals. I am not more important or correct than anyone. I should not be trusted to tell people which commodities to buy, which companies not to support, what to read, what to think, what words to use, or how to conduct their lives. 

All the other animals know there is no one way that a creature “should” live. There is only the way that it does. The world has no consciousness, no beliefs. It cannot pass judgment. We only feel so watched and evaluated because we have covered the planet with so many millions of our eyes. But we can stop performing dignified human goodness at any moment. 

I think that celebrity is an evil, corrupting force that pits the human instinct for bonding against itself. Instead of appreciating the singing of our friends around the fire, we stream Chappell Roan until stalkers break into her house. Rather than playing card games together, we stan Twitch streamers, filling up their chats with highlighted messages until they acknowledge us. We long to be famous novelists because then we would have the social permission to write, and we don’t have the money or time to enjoy the activity on its own. 

I wrote about Chappell Roan, stalker stans, and how turning art into content creation ruins the work, and the creator's life. It's free to read in full (or have narrated to you by the app!) on Substack.

[deezbignutz]

REDACTED TUMBLR AWARDS INFO AAAGHHHHHHHH

okay, since majority chose to start from the top again (again, I am sorry for those who didn't want that), I'm gonna restate the rules, prize, category stuff and all that shit here in this post.

Da Rulez (literally just the same rules plaqii had):

you can nominate yourself for as many categories as you like

don't vote for yourself in the polls, play fair

only nominate yourself for categories you feel you fit, for example, if you don’t create Redacted art, don’t nominate yourself for the artist category

if you feel like someone should be nominated for a category, tag them! you cannot nominate anyone other than yourself

if you are tagged, you need to reply to confirm being nominated!

please try and put your nominations in replies and not reblogs!

if a character doesn’t get any nominations, then their will be no award, but if one person nominates themself for a character they will win the award, so make sure to nominate yourself!

if someone wins 2 or more polls, i’ll get them to choose and give the title to the runner up of the poll of the character they didn’t chose the title, cuz if the original winner didn’t pick that character then they ain’t that characters no1 can after all!

have fun with it! if you don’t win, don’t get too upset! this is just a load of silly fun!

Ze Prize (again, still the same prize plaqii had offered):

winners will get personalised userboxes! they’ll look something like this

(this was made by plaqii, not me. all the credit for this (and honestly the whole awards event) goes to them!!)

you can choose the colours (they’ll probably look better than this) (hopefully)

Le Categories:

these are the categories that are currently in place, but if there is a character or extra category you would like added, please reply what you would like added!

Creatives -

best artist

best fic writer

best hc writer

best ocs (not listener designs)

best listener designs (this is for listener designs :))) )

coolest listener/oc cassettes/icons

best canon roleplay blog (idk if this is the category to put it in, but oh welp)

best oc roleplay blog

‘THE’ fans (note - if a character doesn’t get any nominations, then their will be no award, but if one person nominates themselves for a character they will win the award, so make sure to nominate yourself!)-

Aaron

Anton

Asher

Avior

Azmidi

Blake

Brachium

Caelum

Cam

Christian

Damien

David

Elliot

Gavin

Geordi

Guy

Hush

Huxley

Ivan

James

Kody

Lasko

Milo

Ollie

Porter

Regulus

Sam

Vega

Vincent

Xavier

misc -

the most 𝓯𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓴𝔂

As stated in Da Rulez, please reply to this post to nominate yourself or tag others if you feel like they should nominate themselves!

You do NOT have to make a whole new nomination post for this, you can just use the one you made before. But if you really want to make another one or if you are in a new category you weren't in before, then feel free to make a new other one or just add more info into your old one.

this even might take a while for me to actually flesh out and stuff, so I'm sorry in advanced if there'll be any bumps along the way

I am only a mere man, and I also have a life outside of this (sadly), so pls understand if I end up making a few mistakes or run into any problems

NOMINATIONS WILL BE OPENED UNTIL DECEMBER 30TH (yes, i know then it would technically not be the '2024 Redacted Tumblr Awards', but that's okay we can discus that later)

0 MORE DAYS TILL NOMINATIONS END

NOMINATIONS HAVE ENDED YALL!!!!

Thank you for coming to my TedTalk :))))

[cioud-berries]

Mutual Benefit || Chapter 1

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Hello all! This is my first ever time posting a fanfic on tumblr so I apologize if things are not formatted correctly! If you have any questions or thoughts feel free to reach out to me!!

Summery:

Posts season 2: Spoiler warning!! Being forced into an arranged marriage, [Name] tried her hardest with her unreceptive husband Salo. After his death, she was forced to replace his council position, trying to figure out who she was as a person. Sevika never expected to get anywhere close to the council, let alone join them. As the stigma around people from Zaun still stood, she struggled to gain the respect from her new fellow councillors. With so many differences how could the two really help one another?

Category:

Sevika x Female Reader || 18+ themes

Chapter Warnings:

Season 2 Spoilers, Toxic relationship (with salo), Mostly a Salo x reader but that ends after this chapter

Word count: 2,411

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Mutual Benefit Master List || Next Chapter ->

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Arranged marriage. Such a depressing concept. Being sold for the benefit of others. The best outcome, you find love and are content with your life. Worst case scenario: you spend the rest of your life with someone you absolutely despise.

[Name] was sadly subjected to such a fate. After the civil war in her country ended, she was immediately shipped off to an unfamiliar country. Being the only female to survive, it was her ‘duty’. This would allow her country to obtain the resources needed to rebuild. 

She was to marry Councillor member Salo in Piltover. To both her happiness and dismay, he too did not want this kind of arrangement. He was the head of his own clan in Piltover. His many advisors pushed him to agree to this.

Next thing they both knew, they were shoved in a room alone, left to get to know each other in such awkward circumstances. Things were silent between the two for a long time as Salo downed one glass of wine after another. 

Finally, Salo was the first to speak. Asking the random question “Do you like the theatre?” He was only met with a hesitant nod. He chuckled with a small smile. “Things might work out.”

She walked down the aisle to marry the man she had only spoken a few words to. They both made it very clear how unhappy they were in the situation. Thankfully, they weren’t forced to engage with one another after the ceremony, separating from one another immediately.

They spend most of their time together watching performances, whispering back and forth their thoughts. After a few months, their relationship had turned into a friendship of some sort. Respecting one another while acknowledging that neither one of them wanted to be there.

For the most part he was bearable. Taking care of any finances she needed. He bought her a separate apartment, so she could live separately. Invited her to any party that was being held. Allowed her to have her own separate life if she wished. 

She quickly fit into the higher society in Piltover, making friends with his fellow council members, often confiding to them about her current marital status. They didn’t have much to say, not having been in that situation.

He too had his own life. Finding love and physical intimacy outside of their marriage. She could care less. What she did care about is that he wouldn’t allow her the same freedom. “Something like that could ruin my reputation.” He lazily told her. She was beyond furious, yet couldn’t bring herself to defy his demand. 

It didn’t take too long for Salo’s clan advisors to question the lack of heir. She of course agreed to it, but hated every second of it. She knew she was more attracted to women than men, but that moment had completely confirmed that she had no attraction to men. 

He left her right after, not wanting to do anything else. She laid in her bed alone, crying and she hated the feeling of being left alone after having to be so vulnerable. She could only hope that it did the job and they would never have to interact in such a way again.

Thankfully, nine months later, she gave birth to their daughter Sasha. Salo seemed different with Sasha. She thought that Salo wouldn’t be a caring father, but to her surprise, he was for the beginning.

Sasha for the most part lived at [Name]’s apartment. Salo visited often until she was about three years old. [Name] realized their daughter needed to have both parents in one household to be raised properly. 

Salo complained a lot about it, not wanting to live there. But the second he saw his daughter, his demeanor completely changed. In Sasha’s eye’s, they were a happy loving family. But things were so far from that. Salo often spent his nights elsewhere, always being back before breakfast.

There were sometimes happy moments in the home, making [Name] almost believing that this life was a happy one. Listening to music, they would sometimes dance in the living room, their daughter joining in, turning into them both dancing with her. 

Most of the time, they fought, yelling back and forth about meaningless things. This made them realize that the only reason their relationship had worked for the past few years was because they were apart and there was no relationship. 

Salo started coming to the house less and less, preferring the comfort of his theater and other women. He was completely moved out by the time that Sasha was six. [Name] had to start searching him out with their child in her arms, just so she didn’t have to explain why her father didn’t want to be around. 

Her daughter was everything to her. Truthfully, the only good thing in her life. She despised Salo for making Sasha cry for his absence. When he did spend time with his daughter, everything was perfect. But those moments were fleeting. 

At some point, [Name] began praying that something would happen to Salo. Some real excuse for why he couldn’t be around more often. When the explosion racked through Piltover, she ran over to the window, seeing the council room collapsing to the ground. 

She hated to admit that her heart clenched in excitement. The only way she could get out of the marriage was if he died, and she wished that it was true. Dropping Sasha off at a neighbors, she ran as fast as she could to the building in nothing but her nightgown and robes, not even a shoe on her feet.

Arriving at the building, the guards immediately let her through, knowing who she was. Ambess, the mother of councilor Mel, led her to the victims. There were a few bodies covered with a white cloth. 

Walking up to the dead bodies, she prayed to the Gods above to be free. Before she could view any of the dead, she heard her name be called out. She turned to see her husband laying in a cot, reaching out to her as he sobbed.

“My wife.” He called in a cry. “My legs-”

When she approached, he grabbed her by the hips, pulling her close enough to wrap his arms around her upper thighs and cry into them. He grieved over the loss of his mobility. It reminded her of the way her daughter would cry over the loss of her father that wasn’t even dead. The father that was merely down the street that could take an hour out of his day to play with his daughter.

[Name] felt no sympathy and wished the ruble had landed on his head instead. Yet she said nothing, she did nothing, letting him sob into her nightgown. 

He finally moved back into her house. But not because he wanted to, but because he needed to. Being his wife, [Name] had to take care of him. ‘In sickness and in health’ was really testing her patience. 

He was harder to take care of than Sasha, a literal child. Sasha was excited to have her father back, often jumping on him without realizing it hurt him. He would yell at her, pushing her off the wheelchair. Feeling rejected by her father, she would cry. [Name] was stuck with having to come up with a good excuse for his actions to make her feel better. 

He was demanding. He was rude. He was hateful. But worst of all he was ungrateful. The only joy in her days was when Ambessa would come to take him to the council meetings and [Name] finally got to have alone time with her daughter. 

Salo would come back from these meetings talking about war. Thankfully Sasha would already be in bed by this point so she could let her facade down. He wanted to wage a full fledged attack on the people of Zaun. She disagreed with him deeply, knowing the outcomes of the civil war.

“What do you know about war?” He spat at her without thinking.

She dropped the plate she was cleaning from dinner it shattered on impact with the ground. Snapping around at him she gave the most hateful look. He was stunned, never seeing that kind of expression on her before. “Ask my dead sister and brother.” 

Stepping over the glass, she walked past Salo in his wheelchair, heading to her room. He called out to her, demanding she came back and at least helped him into bed. She was beyond thankful that her daughter was such a heavy sleeper and wouldn’t wake up to his pathetic cries. 

After a while he stopped, and when she woke up, he was gone, living back at the theater. She was determined to never see him again. But after too many days off Sasha crying over her missing father, she finally caved. 

Out front of his door, she told Sasha to wait there for a moment before entering into his private suite without knocking. He laid on the couch as a woman painted purple liquid onto his legs. They both jumped, startled at her entrance. 

She didn’t even flinch at the sight. “Get dressed. Your daughter wants to see you.” Her tone was harsh and left no room for defiance from him. The woman swiftly packed her things, which Salo clearly didn’t agree with, grabbing her arm and forcing her to stay. 

“She can come see me later, I’m in the middle of something.” He harshly replied back to his wife.

“No she can’t.” [Name] Said with finality, looking at the woman in hopes that she could convince Salo.

The woman ripped her wrist out of his grasp, hiding her face into her scarf. “I was done anyways.” She told Salo, before walking around the couch. 

Y/N followed her out, going to grab Sasha and give him time to get dressed. She whispered a quiet “Thank you.” To the woman for helping her. The woman only gave a slight nod before walking off. 

Sasha ran to her father, excited to see him. She rambled on about what happened the past few months that he was absent. He barely paid attention to her, replying vaguely while looking at the ceiling.

It didn’t take her long before she got tired from all of her excitement and fell asleep on the couch beside him. [Name] was quick to pick her up and head for the door. Before reaching the exit, Salo called out to her again. 

She hesitated, stopping to listen to what he had to say. Deep down she wished it would be an apology. “I am going to get my legs fixed. Lest told me about a miracle worker in the undercity. I want you to take me.” He told.

“You can find your own way down there.” She mumbled, leaving him alone in his apartment. 

Those were the last words she ever spoke to her husband. He had disappeared without a trace. Sasha was devastated to hear about her missing father. With her new found hope, [Name] comforted her daughter. 

It wasn’t until Jayce came to her, confirming her prayers, admitting that he had murdered Salo. She had always liked Jayce, thinking that he was a bright mind and the personification of Piltover. He was distraught, not knowing how to tell a wife and child that he was the reason that their family was broken.

[Name] had cried, but not out of sadness, out of relief. Hugging him, she told him “Thank you.” He was shocked and didn’t understand why she would be thanking him for everything. Not knowing how to react, he only awkwardly mumbled “Your welcome?”

With the confirmation of Salo’s death, the next course of action was getting out of Piltover as quickly as possible, not wanting to experience another civil war. Boarding an airship with Sasha she went home. 

Leaning off the edge of the airship, she played with her wedding ring. After everything that had happened with Salo, she still kept it on. With a deep, happy sigh, she took the ring off, and with as much power as she could muster, she threw it off the side of the airship watching it fall towards the ocean. 

She smiled brightly. Finally free. [Name] looked down next to her to see Sasha sitting at her feet. She was sad of course, she had lost her father, but [Name] wanted to celebrate. Picking Sasha up, she twirled around, kissing Sasha all over her face. After putting Sasha back down, she cupped Sasha’s face, looking her in the eyes she promised. “Everything will be okay. I love you so much, you are my world, never forget that.”

Sasha nodded in response, smiling for the first time in weeks, hugging her mother.

The two spent time in her home nation for a few months. It was good for Sasha to be with her cousins that were around her age. And it was good for [Name] to be around a caring family. 

She celebrated Salo’s death with her brother and sister in law many nights. They would crack open a bottle of wine and throw insults at him as they slowly emptied the bottle. By the end of the night they’d be screaming at the top of their lungs “Good riddance!”

While she thought she escaped Piltover, she was berated by letter after letter from Salo’s clan. They demanded she return to Piltover with their heir. They often brought up the contract that was created in their marriage pact, saying it was her ‘duty’.

They told her how she needed to be the stand in for Salo until Sasha came of age to take over. She couldn’t understand why they couldn’t just choose some other clan member to be head. Plus, she could never see her daughter becoming the head of a clan she knew nothing about. Salo taught her nothing, nor prepared her for the position.

After about a hundred letters, she caved. The clan didn’t want to lose the position of power they had in the council. Learning about the new government that has been formed, she was pushed to become a council member.

Sasha was devastated to leave her family that she grew so close to in the short amount of time that she was there. All [Name] could do was promise that she was going to build Sasha a better future in the new position. 

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Mutual Benefit Master List || Next Chapter ->

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Overall Masterlist

Discord link

[wrtzia]

Stiles Stilinski - Headcanon

Bf!StilesStilinski x Werewolf!Reader

Ƹ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄Ʒ Ƹ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄Ʒ Ƹ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄Ʒ Ƹ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄Ʒ Ƹ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄Ʒ Ƹ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄Ʒ Ƹ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄Ʒ Ƹ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄Ʒ Ƹ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄ƷƸ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄ƷƸ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄ƷƸ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄ƷƸ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄ƷƸ̵̡

Ƹ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄Ʒ Ƹ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄Ʒ Ƹ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄Ʒ Ƹ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄Ʒ Ƹ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄Ʒ Ƹ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄Ʒ Ƹ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄Ʒ Ƹ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄Ʒ Ƹ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄ƷƸ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄ƷƸ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄ƷƸ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄ƷƸ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄ƷƸ̵̡

Bf!Stiles who reassured Reader when she first got bit. She was completely freaked out, afraid of becoming a monster or a killer. Bf!Stiles who spent the whole night telling her that she was still her and not just a horrible beast. 

Bf!Stiles who takes care of werewolf!reader at every moonlight, making sure that she’s tied enough and can’t free herself. And while she turns, he always sits behind the door, waiting all night, coming in the second the sun is up to take care of her and peppering her with kisses.

Bf!Stiles who always sits down on the floor while Scott teaches Reader how to control herself. He just stares at you and every time you succeed, he exclaims happily and claps his hands, congratulating you. 

Bf!Stiles who is always spooning you, being the big spoon because he feels like he protects you that way, especially after Void. 

Bf!Stiles, who is the jealous type, always feels the need to put his arm on your shoulders when a guy, other than the pack, is there. His mind makes him think you could find someone better than him, someone that didn’t get possessed by a demon. You always assure him that he’s the only one for you.

Bf!Stiles who bought a lot of toys, especially plushies, which he puts in your basement a few days before the full moon, so that your werewolf self can destroy something without hurting anyone.

Bf!Stiles who is always recomforting you, because he thinks it’s his job to comfort everyone. So when he’s the one feeling bad and you take him in your arms, he feels extremely vulnerable but lets you anyway, because being in the arms of his girl feels extremely good.

Bf!Stiles who always steals you a kiss. Everytime the others turn their back, he puts a gentle kiss on your lips. And when you’re both about to go for one of your plans, to fight another werewolf or whatever, he put a chaste kiss on your temple and makes you promise to be careful, at what you respond ‘’I should say that ; I’m a werewolf while you’re a vulnerable human.” And even though he hears your sarcastic remarks almost every week, he still lets out a scoff, “Whatever.”

Bf!Stiles who always makes your dates end sitting on the hood of his jeep. You two just lying there, finishing the bit of snacks you have while staring at the stars, talking of whatever you could think of. Somehow, it always ends with Reader showing her new werewolf capacity, even though Stiles already saw them. But he lets her do and acts all excited because his girl is proud, and he couldn’t be more proud of her. 

Bf!Stiles, who works on crime’s search, adding his red woolen threads while Reader asks a lot of questions, a lot he doesn’t have answers to, which frustrate him. Eventually, Reader ends up asleep on his bed, some threads in her hair as she had messed with them.

Bf!Stiles who has a rambling werewolf!girlfriend, so when she’s overthinking too much and letting everything out, talking rapidly without stopping, his soft lips find yours, tasting your cherry lip balm as he shut you up.

Ƹ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄Ʒ Ƹ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄Ʒ Ƹ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄Ʒ Ƹ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄Ʒ Ƹ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄Ʒ Ƹ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄Ʒ Ƹ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄Ʒ Ƹ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄Ʒ Ƹ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄Ʒ Ƹ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄Ʒ Ƹ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄Ʒ Ƹ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄Ʒ Ƹ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄Ʒ Ƹ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄Ʒ Ƹ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄Ʒ Ƹ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄Ʒ Ƹ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄Ʒ Ƹ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄Ʒ Ƹ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄ƷƸ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄ƷƸ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄ƷƸ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄ƷƸ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄ƷƸ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄ƷƸ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄ƷƸ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄ƷƸ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄

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I love writing headcanon so I might just do it with every character I like, possibly a hundred times with every differents reader versions.

Posting on Tumblr is so confusing because on my computer the lines of Ƹ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄Ʒ fit, but on my phone they don't. Who do I need to trust? 😔

[rylem33]

Double the Trouble

Just a quick reminder that I post most of my new stories here to Tumblr, but my blog has all of my 150+ stories. Just follow the link on my Tumblr homepage. --------------------------------------------- Kelsey leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed, glaring at her mother. Diane stood near the couch, a dish towel still slung over her shoulder from when she’d been cleaning up after dinner.

“I said no, Kelsey,” Diane stated firmly. “A weekend trip with your friends, out of town, no adults? That’s just asking for trouble.”

Kelsey rolled her eyes dramatically. “Mom, I’m not asking. I’m nineteen. I don’t need your permission.”

“You live under my roof. You’re not leaving for some unsupervised getaway to God-knows-where with God-knows-who!” Diane’s voice sharpened, but there was worry behind it. “What if something happens? Do you have any idea how dangerous it is out there?”

Kelsey groaned, throwing her head back. “Oh my God, would you just chill for once in your life? It’s like you’ve forgotten what it’s like to be my age. I’m not a little kid anymore!”

Diane’s lips pressed into a tight line. “You’re still my responsibility, and it’s my job to keep you safe.”

“Ugh,” Kelsey snapped, stepping forward. “I wish you’d stop treating me like a baby and remember what it’s like to be young and have fun. Maybe then you’d understand!”

The air in the room seemed to shift. The candle on the side table flickered unnaturally, though neither of them noticed.

Diane opened her mouth to reply, but instead of speaking, she frowned and put a hand to her temple. “I… I remember,” she muttered, almost to herself.

Kelsey tilted her head, her frustration giving way to confusion. “What?”

“I remember being nineteen,” Diane continued, her voice suddenly lighter, almost wistful. “God, I was such a prude back then.”

As she spoke, subtle changes began to ripple through her. The streaks of gray in her hair darkened to a deep chestnut, and the fine lines around her eyes smoothed.

“Mom? Are you feeling okay?” Kelsey asked, taking a step back.

Diane’s lips curved into a small smile, one that didn’t feel quite like hers. “Better than I’ve felt in years, actually.”

Kelsey’s eyes widened as Diane’s cardigan shifted, the fabric morphing into a cropped, fitted shirt. Her jeans tightened and shortened, transforming into distressed shorts that showed off her long legs. Sneakers replaced her house slippers.

“What the hell is happening?” Kelsey gasped.

Diane ran a hand through her now-lustrous hair, flipping it over her shoulder. “Wow, I forgot how good it feels to just let loose.” She smirked at her daughter, her tone laced with mockery. “Why do you look so freaked out? Isn’t this what you wanted?”

“You…you look… young!” Kelsey stammered. Diane stepped over to her daughter and stood beside her. She turned and looked at the mirror, tilting her head in appreciation. 

“I look like your twin. God, we’re so hot.” She turned back to Kelsey, her voice dripping with sudden sarcasm. “What’s wrong, sweetie? Scared your old mom might outshine you?”

“Mom, stop it!” Kelsey protested, her voice shaking.

But Diane didn’t stop. She leaned against the couch, “You know, I was a total knockout at your age. The boys couldn’t get enough of me, but I was too scared to do anything. But I have to admit, you’re hotter.  And now that I look like you, it’s time to have some fun.”

“Mom, this isn’t you,” Kelsey said weakly.

Diane’s grin widened. “Come on, Kelsey. You wanted me to be young and have fun. I’m not about to disappoint you.”

Kelsey’s stomach twisted. Her mother was changing, and not just physically. The sweetness and concern she’d always relied on were being replaced by something sharper, meaner.

“Mom, stop it!” Kelsey’s voice wavered, her facade threatening to crack under her mother’s piercing gaze.

Diane didn’t stop. She leaned casually against the doorframe, flipping her hair over her shoulder. “You’re adorable, you know that? All wide-eyed and innocent when I’m around. But I’m not blind, Kels.”

“What are you even talking about?” Kelsey snapped, though her tone was defensive.

“Oh, come on,” Diane scoffed, her smirk widening. “You love playing Mommy’s little good girl. Always so polite, so sweet. But I bet the second I’m not looking, you’re the center of attention. Batting your eyelashes, twirling your hair. Let me guess…” She stepped closer. “You get the boys to follow you around like puppies. You flirt just enough to keep them on edge, never giving them exactly what they want but keeping them hooked.”

“That’s not true!” Kelsey’s protest was immediate, but the flush on her cheeks betrayed her.

“Oh, really?” Diane laughed, a sharp, knowing sound. “You’re telling me you’re not the girl who ‘accidentally’ brushes against the hot guy at a party just to see how red his face gets? That you don’t soak up the attention when they trip over themselves to impress you? But in the end, you’re just a cock tease…aren’t you?”

“I don’t do that,” Kelsey muttered, her voice faltering.

Diane tilted her head, her grin widening. “You don’t have to lie to me, Kelsey. You think I don’t see the little smiles, the way you leave your phone unlocked just enough for your friends to see all the messages from guys? The way you act so shy when they ask you out, just to keep them chasing you?”

Kelsey’s lips parted as if to argue, but no words came. Her shoulders slumped slightly, her carefully constructed act dissolving under her mother’s relentless accuracy.

“There it is,” Diane said softly, her tone triumphant. “I knew it.”

Kelsey looked away, her voice barely above a whisper. “Fine. So what if I do?”

Diane’s grin turned wicked. “Oh, sweetie. I’m not judging you. Honestly, I’m impressed.” She stepped closer, her eyes sparkling with mischief. “But nobody likes a tease, Kels. Sex is so much fun. It feels so good to have a hard dick pounding you.  I can help you. Imagine how much more fun you could have with a partner in crime.”

Kelsey glanced at her mother, confusion and curiosity warring on her face. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, this weekend could be a lot more interesting if you weren’t the only one pulling the strings. We can manipulate those boys to get whatever we want, fuck whomever we want, and drop them when we get bored.”

“You’re serious?” Kelsey asked, her voice tinged with disbelief.

“Why not?” Diane said with a shrug. “We’re both hot, we know how to get what we want, and now we’re on the same page. Let’s make this trip unforgettable.”

A slow smile spread across Kelsey’s face as realization dawned. “You’re not like this. Not usually.”

“Maybe not,” Diane replied with a wink. “But I am now.”

Kelsey laughed, a sound freer and more genuine than she’d let out in years. “Okay, Mom. Let’s do it.”

Diane smirked, shaking her head. “First rule: stop calling me ‘Mom.’ Do I look like a mom to you? I’m practically your twin now.”

Kelsey raised an eyebrow. “So… what am I supposed to call you then?”

Diane tapped her chin playfully before snapping her fingers. “Call me Dee. Short, sweet, and sexy. It suits me, don’t you think?”

“Dee,” Kelsey said, testing the name out with a small grin. “Alright. Let’s do this, Dee.” “That’s my girl,” Diane said, opening the door and stepping out into the night. She glanced back at Kelsey. “Let’s go have some fun.”

[sunshine-for-serotonin]

My lord i would give you my firstborn for more Erik content, hes literally my babygirl.

Hello my darling!! I decided to do some cuddling headcannons for you as well as some random tidbit headcannons!!! {it’s extremely unorganized} this can be read as any Erik of your choosing, but some specific phantoms are mentioned once or twice!

I’m not super proud of this, but I felt like I had to feed you guys something.

I am not officially back to my full tumblr writing, but I am hoping to make a steady return! Also, I made a Lerik bot on Character.ai if you guys want me to un-private it and post the link. :)

When you cuddle with Erik, no matter which version, you basically have to plan on taking the first or second half of the day off.

He’s very touch starved, so he doesn’t like letting you go unless he absolutely has to, and even then Erik will probably throw a fit of some kind, too desperate for your touch to even think about how it may affect the rest of his opera house.

He’s not ashamed about voicing his need for you either; if you try to leave, he will drop down to his knees and blubber like a child, begging for you to stay and love on him. If it’s a specific person that is causing you to leave, Erik will threaten to kill them! It doesn’t matter if it is the managers, Meg and Madam Giry, or even Christine (should she stay there after the whole final lair scene and the phantoms activities die down)! It doesn’t matter! They don’t matter! The only thing that matters is you and your love! Erik needs you, (Y/N)! He needs you to love him until he can’t think! For you to cuddle him and kiss him like he’s your beloved pet!

Concerning you being friends with Christine, Erik absolutely despises it! She had already abandoned him for the Vicomte, she can’t take you away from him too! She mustn’t! No, if Christine even tried to advise you away from him, he would make sure she wishes she never approached you!

Please, if he starts on one of his tangents about you leaving him for someone else, make love to him and tell him what a good boy he is. It’s a sure fire way to calm him down, and Erik, even though he is likely significantly older than you, loves being coddled and reassured that you won’t leave him.

you will find that almost all versions of Erik prefer to be held rather than just hold you, with the exception of Cherik. It’s not because they’re selfish! It’s because Erik needs you to hold him in order for things to feel okay, and it feels good that you would hold him of your own free will and kindness. If he was the one completely holding you, he would be worried you didn’t actually want to be close to him!

To expand on that a little more, Cherik is the only phantom that prefers to be the big spoon. All the others want you to press against them from behind and wrap your arms around their waist, pressing kisses into the sensitive skin of their neck. {as mentioned in one of my previous posts, Kerik is a horny bastard and will probably start getting hard if you’re not careful.}

Get them to lay on top of you.

Do it. Well… do it if you can handle them crying from emotional release, anyway.

Laying on top of you will give Erik the feeling of maternal care and nurturing he never received as a child, and it’s bound to make him cry from the sheer love he feels for you and the feeling of love you’re giving him, and even then the abandonment issues and childhood trauma just overflows from him like a fountain of sadness.

For versions of Erik where his deformities are a little more open and wet, like Meriks, you’ll have to reassure him that you don’t mind touching it. That the feeling of his open flesh against your skin doesn’t bother you, and that you’d love to cuddle him regardless.

Phantoms with deformities like Meriks are almost always between a rock and a hard place when it comes to cuddling you because on one hand, they’re worried about you seeing their deformities up close and so they’ll want to lay their bad side on your chest so you can’t see it as well. On the other hand, they’re paranoid about you finding the feeling of their deformities gross against your skin and making you uncomfortable.

It’s a lot to unpack when you cuddle Erik, or even give him attention in general, but you will find that it is well worth the effort. Erik loves you and would burn down the entire world to make you smile, and yet he finds himself feeling he is unworthy of even mere scraps of your attention and love, but you always reassure him otherwise. :)

[jeonscatalyst]

I noticed that jkkrs on tumblr seem to be more than tkkrs on tumblr. Our posts usually get hundreds of likes too while tkkrs’s only manage a few dozens. Why do you think that is even though tkkrs dominate other platforms like twitter, instagram, TikTok and YouTube?

That’s a great question anon and just like you, I did notice that too.

My answer may seem a little biased since I am a joker but it is what I really believe based on everything I’ve seen after being in this fandom for so many years.

Jikookers love to discuss and have long deep conversations about Jikook and ships in general which helps them understand things better. Taekookers love screenshots, especially those they can take out of context to either create moments for their ship or drag Jikook (the ship and Jimin). Twitter, YouTube, TikTok and instagram aren’t social media platforms that allow long, deep creative discourse with enough context to help people understand things better so they thrive by posting edits and screenshots taken out of context and they get thousands of likes more than jikookers while many tkkrs don’t seem to be very interested in actually going deep into conversation about ships because they already believe what they believe and don’t want anything to change that.

You see anon, Jikook spaces used to be more healthy and peaceful than they have become in the last couple of years and I feel like Jikookers actually had a good basis to start shipping Jikook unlike other shippers who mostly start shipping because of aesthetics or just cute edited moments of the ships. I think out of all BTS ships, Jikookers were one of the very first ones who brought discussions about ships to tumblr and many Jikookers loved having those conversations here while other shippers preferred Twitter, YouTube and the rest for more fast paced and less detailed discussions.

If you notice, it is quite hard for a jokers to beat the cult in an argument on Twitter and when I say beat them I don’t mean by being right or wrong but instead in the term of likes and interactions. A tkkr could post a very obviously fake or twisted edit or screenshot and they would get over a dozen thousand likes. A tkkrs could post an out of context screenshot to drag Jikook and they get thousands of likes and replies but it’s rarely the same for a joker on X but on tumblr when we have our little conversations with enough context, we get tons of interactions than the cult because many more jkkrs actually love to discuss about Jikook and not just rely on edits or out of context screenshots.

The tkk blogs I’ve seen on tumblr are in my opinion some of the nicest tkkrs I’ve ever come across and this is saying a lot because I don’t even think they are that nice. I just think they are nicer than what I am used to seeing on other apps and they could be a little less delusional even though they are still very very delusional and just like their brothers and sisters on X and the other platforms, are so good at taking things out of context. A good example of how they take things out of context or twist things to fit their narratives is that article from Bang PD from The New Yorker. I was so shocked that not a single one of them actually got the context right. All of them interpreted what Bang PD said about the group members taking trips to be about Jikook just because we just watched AYS recently even though he was actually specifically referring to Katseye, plus BTS as a group and other groups under Hybe/ Bighit have been on multiple group trips throughout their years as idols yet they decided to make it about Jikook since that was a way they could feel better about AYS since apparently they didn’t like what they saw in the show. Just like the blind leading the blind with not a single person to direct them to the right path.

To put everything in short, tumblr is favored by fans who enjoy deep, creative engagement, while Twitter and the others attracts those who thrive on fast-paced, real-time interactions. This alone should pretty much explain how most jkkrs are and how most tkkrs are.

Hope this answered your question anon💜.