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kkoga · 2 days ago

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DO IT. DO THE HURT NO COMFORT. PLPSLSPLSPSLSPLS I LOVE ANGST!!!

-🎧

A/N : your wish is my command....

RAINY NIGHTS, sophia laforteza x fem!reader

Warning ! Hurt no comfort, toxic relationship, mentions of sensitive topics, not proofread

Disclaimer ! Everything written here is pure fiction. Every person is not a real portrayal of themselves.

Now playing ! Cologne by beabadobee

WC — I dont knkw bruh i wrote this and its 3 fucking am im not mentally sane lawl phones also 7 percent.

Synopsis ! After Sophia Laforteza fucks up multiple times, Y/n decides she's had enough. Time and time the girl had waited, but much to her dismay, all Sophia had done, was disappoint her.

Y/n shamefully exits the restaurant, feeling dozens of eyes on her. The girl had been waiting for her girlfriend, Sophia Laforteza, to show up to a date they've been planning for weeks now.

The first hour wasn't so bad. Maybe she had gotten stuck in traffic, or maybe she would be just a little late. The second hour was worse. At that point, waiters and waitresses had started asking her where her partner was. And what Y/n hated the most, was the fact that she had no answer to their questions.

Now here she was, after the fourth hour of waiting. It was currently 12 am, and much to the girl's luck, it had just started raining.

The girl could only sigh.

"What a great marvellous day! Not only does Sophia leave me waiting for our date, it starts raining right after I get kicked out! Absolutely hilarious!" Y/n mumbes to herself, tears beginning to well up.

"Maybe she just forgot. I mean, she's busy afterall..." The girl tried her best to convince herself that this was going to be a one time thing.

She was wrong.

Y/n bites her inner lip. It has been 2 hours since their designated sleepover. It's been weeks since Sophia had gone over to her house. So they'd been planning for a movie night. And tonight was that night. So why exactly has Sophia been ignoring her calls?

Y/n presses the call button once more, but to no avail, she was met with Sophia's voice mail for the nth time.

The popcorn was starting to get cold, and the ice cream was starting to melt. Y/n sighs. It's been two hours. Maybe she got caught up in an emergency schedule?

"Couldn't she just have told me...?" Y/n shakenly whispers to herself. This was the fourth time Sophia had stood her up this month alone.

Y/n begrudgingly placed the ice cream back in the fridge and seals the popcorn in a random container. The sound of rain keeping her grounded.

"It's okay. This will be the last time this happens."

Finally. Sophia had finally shown up to a hang out. Y/n had been waiting for the past month. The girl had greatly missed her girlfriend, and she hoped Sophia felt the same.

"Sophie! Hi!" Y/n ran up to Sophia, and hugged her as tight as she could. Afraid to let go, scared she might lose the one person able to cheer her up with a simple smile.

"Y/n! Baby! Hi, i missed you so much." Sophia hugged the girl back, and for a moment, Y/n thought,

"Finally. We're back to normal. Oh god, how I've missed my girl."

Y/n couldn't help the small but sweet smile that had formed.

It had been an hour since their hang out started, and apparently, Sophia had to go. Y/n felt sad, but knew it was her job, her dream. And Y/n would never get in the way of that.

As Sophia entered her car, Y/n bid goodbye to her girlfriend.

"Bye Sophie, miss you, and i love you." Y/n leans down for a cheek kiss, almost missing the unreadable expression Sophia had on her face.

"Yeah, bye." And with that, Sophia drives off to god knows where.

"No i love you too...? No... maybe she just forgot. It's fine." And suddenly, rain had started pouring. Y/n quickly ran for cover, but couldn't avoid looking like a somewhat wet puppy.

It was infact, not fine. It had been three months since that little mini date, and Sophia hadn't said the words "I love you". Atleast not without Y/n basically telling her to.

What went wrong? What did Y/n ever do? Did she offend Sophia? Did she do anything to form this... this gap between them?

Y/n felt so lost. So... confused. She was so sure she hadn't done anything. At least not anything she could remember. Well, she was going to find out tonight.

The door opens widely, in a swift manner. And in comes Sophia, sick and worried.

"Y/N, BABY, ARE YOU OKAY?? I came as soon as i got the text, I—" The panicked Sophia came in, expecting to see an injured or sick Y/n. But all she had found was Y/n sitting on the chair of one of her counters, with a stoic look on her face.

Sophia's breathe was heavy, like she had ran to get to Y/n's apartment.

"Why are you completely fine? You texted me it was an emergency Y/n, I was busy—!"

"Well, you always are, aren't you?" Y/n looks up to Sophia's eyes, and frustration begins to fill the Filipina.

"Excuse me? You know I'm constantly busy. For fucks sake, I'm an idol! You can't—"

"I know. I know what I signed up for, Laforteza. I know I'd never get in the way of your dreams. You would never even let me." Y/n gets off the stool, and faces her girlfriend.

"So what's your point! What, you call me here because you missed me? I was in a fucking meeting Y/n. With one of HYBE's officials!! Do you know how fucking important that is?" Sophia scratches her head in disbelief, her anger bubbling up faster than it ever has. Y/n sighs defeatedly.

"More important than me?"

Silence filled the apartment. What felt like hours were only a few measly seconds.

"The silence was more than enough, Laforteza. I'm tired. I am so fucking tired of you leaving me hanging. At first, it was a date here, a date there, but nowadays, it's like everything we plan just ends up with me waiting."

"But I'm trying Y/n! I'm trying my best for you, for my members, for my fucking dream. Why can't you just understand that?"

"Then answer this, Laforteza. When was the last time you had told me the words "I love you"? When was the last time you had willingly told me those three words."

Sophia tried to recollect, the Filipina had really tried her best. But the realization had hit her hard.

"Fucking THINK Laforteza. Give me a goddamned answer. When was the last time you had given me a sincere, loving, "I love you"?... ANSWER ME!"

"I... I can't remember...." Sophia had started tearing up. Why couldn't she fucking remember the last time she had said I love you to her own fucking girlfriend?

Y/n let out a laugh. But it wasn't the usual light and hearty laugh Sophia had always heard. This laugh sounded painful. It was like all of Y/n's vocal chords had suddenly forgotten what a laugh had sounded like.

After a few seconds, Y/n's laughing had turned into sobs.

"Do you know how many times I've had to shamefully walk out of a restaurant, or get kicked out? Sophia, everyone looked at me. Their eyes were so full of pity. The waiters and waitresses constantly checked up on me like I was some poor child, left behind by her mother. Countless times, Sophia. I endured it all, thinking it would be the last time."

Y/n's voice had started cracking, and the girl had made a face Sophia had never seen before. One filled with so much sadness, so much sorrow.

"But time and time again, you proved me wrong. Every date you stood up, every "I love you" left unanswered, destroyed me, Sophia."

"Baby... baby I'm so sorry, please—" Sophia tries to move closer to Y/n, but the girl pulls away.

"Don't. Don't ever call me baby ever again. You don't get the fucking right, Sophia."

"I'm so disappointed in you Sophia. I never thought you'd ever treat me this way. Your career may have excused a missing date or two. But seven in a row? Sophia, we've gone on three total dates for the past four month's. And we had planned seventeen. Seven fucking teen Sophia. You stood me up fourteen times, and that's only for the past four months."

"I.. please I'm so—"

"So let's end this."

"...what?"

This felt so surreal. Y/n had just asked her if they could end it. Sophia had felt her whole world crumble. She caused this? Has she really broken down the one person who had supported her through everything?

"No.. no, no we aren't. Please, just give me a chance to—"

"No, Laforteza. Get out. We're over."

Sophia laughs, hoping this was some sort of wicked sick dream.

"We aren't over Y/n. Please, I just—"

"We've been over for the past seven months, Laforteza. What we've had for those last few months was just me trying to keep us both on the same page. But a relationship requires two people. We can't keep going if your heart isn't in it, Laforteza."

Sophia couldn't help it. Her tears had burst out like there was no tomorrow. The girl hadn't cried like this for a long, long time.

"But.. but I need you Y/n, please..." At this point, the Filipina had gotten on her knees.

"No, you don't. Hell, you don't even want me. You just think you do. So please, get up and leave, before I say things I don't think I can take back."

"I can't just leave!"

"Yes you can. Leave. For the both of us, Sophie." The mention of her nickname was driving Sophia crazy.

"But I fucking love you Y/n!" .

Y/n looks at Sophia with a tired face.

"Do you really?"

Sophia looks at Y/n. A look of desperation displayed on her pretty face. Y/n hates how she's never going to see that face ever again. Hates how she's never going to kiss that pretty face to sleep ever again. Hates how those soft and comforting arms will never comfort her ever again. Hates how she will never wake up next to the love of her life ever again. Hates how Sophia will never be hers ever again. But she was okay with that. She knew it had to end one way or another. It was better this way.

And so, after more back and forth conversations, Sophia reluctantly leaves. Sophia closes the door, and Y/n locks it right after.

Y/n will never open up her heart for Sophia ever again. And the latter knows that. They were over. They were really over. Neither could believe it. The two fall to their knees, on opposite sides of the door. The sound of heavy rain masking the others cries.

Guess rainy nights were never their thing.

#sophia laforteza #sophia laforteza x reader #sophia #katseye x fem reader #katseye x reader #katseye imagines #katseye x female reader #katseye #kkoga #no comfort

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bubbleggum444 · 13 hours ago

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—LO۷ESTⱤUCK F𐌀N

contents damian wayne x fem!reader, youtuber!reader au, fluff, 2k+ wc. synopsis now that you've started accepting fan mail, damian jumps at the chance to send you something (though, honestly, he’d send himself if he could). pt 2 of "unexpected crush!?" (@liabiamiakiawia hope you like it 🫶🏻)

No. Freaking. Way.

Was this a dream? A hallucination? Some cruel trick of the mind?

There was no way she actually posted her address. But as he blinked at the screen, rereading the words for the hundredth time, the reality hit him like a Batarang to the chest:

"Accepting fan gifts/letters! Address & city number: xxxxx. Can't wait to see what my luvies gift me :)"

His heart stopped. Then restarted at double the speed.

He. Was. Ecstatic.

Well—ecstatic in a very Damian Wayne, son of an assassin and the Dark Knight, kind of way.

A normal person might be pacing, grinning, maybe even screaming into a pillow. But Damian? He just sat there, staring at the screen, his grip tightening on his phone as his brain raced a thousand miles per second.

This was huge. A once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. The only chance he’d ever have to send her something, something meaningful—something that would make her smile.

Immediately, he started skimming through her videos, mind buzzing with possibilities. What did she like? What did she need? What could he give her that would stand out from the rest?

Something perfect. It had to be perfect.

After intense (possibly obsessive) research, he finally settled on three things:

1. A Beauty of Joseon skincare set—not that a face as flawless as hers needed skincare. If anything, the skincare needed her.

2. A cute hairclip set—he remembered her gushing over some in a video. Hers were old, but she hated overconsumption, always mindful of her brand collaborations (another thing about her that made his heart do weird things: her caringness for the planet).

3. Some top-tier Chinese makeup—only the best for her.

His lips curled into a satisfied smirk as he saw the total.Just a casual $1K. Nothing much for a Wayne.

Then again… if she asked, he'd get her the moon and stars. Nothing was ever too much for her. Ever.

By the time he finalized his list, it was nearly noon. And by the time he finished hunting everything down in-store, it was noon.

Now, back in his room, Damian sat cross-legged on his floor, staring at the disaster zone of wrapping paper around him.

He exhaled sharply, frustration bubbling up as he crumpled yet another piece of pink wrapping paper—now a casualty of way too much tape—and chucked it aside.

This was so new to him. He barely ever gave gifts, and even when he did, Alfred was the one who wrapped them.

With a sigh, Damian pulled out his phone and searched, How to wrap gifts (EASY and pretty).

Following the tutorial with painstaking precision, his thoughts started to wander.

It wasn’t like he was an idiot. After a full week of stubborn denial, he’d finally accepted it—he had a crush. A real, actual crush on a girl he’d never even met.

And honestly? That annoyed him. Apparently, there was some illness where people obsessed over their favorite celebrities or internet personalities.

But he wasn’t sick! Sure, there were plenty of things wrong with him—a packaged deal that came with being the son of his parents—but this? This wasn’t an obsession. And he was definitely not a stalker.

He just... really liked this girl.

Pausing mid-task, he set down the half-wrapped package and reached for a pen and paper.

"Dear ___,My name is Damian Wayne. I'm a teen from Gotham..."

Hours passed—writing, re-writing, crumpling papers, fixing the bow on the package that would soon be crossing oceans.

Finally, Damian collapsed onto his bed, staring up at the ceiling.

He sighed.

Please let this work.

Sitting up, he picked up the now perfectly wrapped gift box, his fingers absentmindedly tracing along the frilly bow.

And then, without thinking, he brought the box to his lips, pressing a light kiss against it.

Oh. Oh.

A wave of déjà vu hit him— reminding him of the air-kiss he tried to catch through his laptop screen a week prior.

For a second, he just sat there, the ghost of a smile tugging at his lips before he scoffed softly at himself.

Damian Wayne had officially lost. He liked her. Like liked her.

And now, all he could do was hope—pray—that this box, this dumb little package of gifts, would somehow, someway, connect them.

Maybe. Just maybe. Something real would come out of this stupid crush.

"Tch… emotions suck."

He laughed under his breath, though there was no real bite to his words.

Setting the package on his bedside table, he turned off the light and crawled into bed.

Tomorrow, he’d send it.

And then? He’d wait.

₊˚ ‿︵‿︵‿︵୨୧ · · ♡ · · ୨୧‿︵‿︵‿︵ ˚₊

likes and reblogs are greatly appreciated

ദ്ദി ≽^⎚˕⎚^≼ .ᐟ

#damian wayne x you #damian wayne x reader #damian wayne #damian al ghul #dc comics #dcu #dc comics x reader #dc x reader #x reader #fluff #dc fluff

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b3ach-bunn7 · 2 days ago

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MY KIND OF WOMAN

Touya is the son of your fathers greatest business rival. You’re supposed to hate him, but you definitely dont.

No quirks, forbidden romance

—————————————————————————-

Touya Todoroki looks good tonight.

You feel guilty the second the thought enters your brain, like your father might be hearing it. He doesn’t want you talking to guys, much like any father, but if there’s any person in the world he’d kill you for even looking at, it’s Touya, the son of his rival company’s owner.

You’re not even sure what it is your fathers do. Something about finance, computers, science. All you know is that it’s a filthy business, and the Todorokis and Tanakas had been at each other's throats for years. If there was one name that had been run through the dirt in your house, it was Todoroki. Enji had done this, he’d stolen this client, taken this deal. You didn’t really care. All you knew was that you were supposed to hate them all, so you did. Especially Touya, because he was next in line to take over the company, and according to local rumours, he was as misbehaved as they come. Which you were supposed to care about, apparently.

But then you actually met him. And you don’t think you hated him at all.

It was, funnily enough, at a company party. Some firm that both sides of this inane war partnered with, and your dad had forced you to go. So you did, in a little black dress and a perfect smile as you walked around with him like the good daughter you were. You greeted the people you were supposed to greet. You smiled at the old ladies who complimented your unblemished skin and laughed at all the weird comments his too old coworkers made. You only finally got away under the guise of using the bathroom. Truthfully, you took to walking around the place they’d rented out, an old auditorium, peering into the empty rooms. They were mostly filled with boxes, extra chairs and storage. But there was one room, with wide windows and boxes of stage equipment, that piqued your interest.

Because it was in that room that you saw Touya.

He had dark black hair that fell over his eyes, sleeves rolled up while the suit jacket he was supposed to be wearing was abandoned on a chair to the side. He had cracked open a window, and was deftly blowing the smoke from his cigarette out of it. He must have heard your heels clicking against the floor, because as he turned to face you, you noticed the piercings on his eyebrow and septum and his lip. And you also noticed that he was handsome. In an alluring, he’d probably make you fall in love with him then leave you, sort of way.

You had heard rumours about Touya. Everyone had, to be honest. Your town was small and overridden with gossip, both in your age demographic and your parents. The stuff you’d heard about the man in front of you should’ve been more than enough to steer you away, that and all your fathers warnings. But the party was boring, and you were still a little pissed at your dad for making you come, so you decided your definitely entertain this.

He tilted his head, and the cigarette burned between his fingers.

“I know you. You’re Tanaka’s daughter.” His voice was low and deep, rumbling in his chest as he eyed you.

You nodded, taking another step in the room. “In the flesh. I’m not supposed to be talking to you.” You smile.

Touya’s lips curled into a smile. “Shame.” He took another puff of his cigarette. “You just going to stand there then?”

You walked forward until you were next to him. You pointed at the cigarette.

“You got another?”

He hummed. “No. We can share, though.”

He held it out to you, and you took it easily, taking a long slow drag. You sighed, blowing the smoke out the window.

“We basically just kissed.”

You shot him an amused glance. “Are you twelve?”

“No. Eighteen. Just like you.”

Touya crossed his arms on the ledge of the window. Like that, the setting sun casted shadows across his face, the flattering blue of his eyes almost glowing as he turned to look at you.

You leant against the wall, avoiding eye contact. “Should I be concerned that you know that?”

“No. I’m sure you know as well as I do how much our fathers love talking about each other.”

You snorted a laugh. “God, he’d kill me if he saw me with you right now.”

Touya pouted. “I’m not that bad. I’m nice. I’m even sharing it with you.” He reached out his hand to grab the cigarette and you passed it to him, your fingers brushing.

“Mhm. I'll be sure to tell him how kind you were to smoke with me.” You nodded sympathetically, and he grinned something dangerous.

It was all sort of the end after that.

You started to run into him a lot more. While he didn’t go to the local school like you, but the two of you lived in the same neighbourhood. You went to the library to study and there he was, with a blonde haired girl who nearly got kicked out for talking too much. You stopped at the mall to grab some clothes and there he was with the blonde hair boy from school who’s always chatting girls up.

And every time he’d stop you just before you left, entice you with good conversation and a cigarette outside. And who were you to deny it? He was good conversation. He had good taste in music, and he made you laugh. You’d started hoping that you’d run into him more every time you left the house. And yes, maybe you started to develop a teensy little crush on him. It didn’t help when he slipped you his phone number one day.

You’d just gotten out of your car, about to fill it up at the gas station, when you heard the rev of a motorcycle and a shout.

“Hey! Tanaka!”

You turned to the source of the voice to see Touya hopping off his bike. You assumed it was his bike. He’d mentioned it a couple times, and the sleek metal and soft leather seats looked pretty close to his very detailed descriptions. He took his helmet off and god, the mess of his hair and the pink of his cheeks had you smiling instantly. You lock your car door and wave.

“Hiya. What are you doing here?”

He tapped the back of his bike. “Fuelling her up.” He looks down at your car.

“Nice ride.”

You rolled your eyes. It is definitely not a nice ride. Unfortunately you got the kind of rich parents that wanted you to earn money the old fashioned way, which included using your shitty part time job to pay for your first car.

“It’s safer than that death machine.” You raised your eyebrows at his bike and he smoothed his hands over her.

“Aw, lighten up. She’s safe enough. And she’s beautiful, isn’t she?”

You rolled your eyes, finishing up filling your car, but you couldn’t help the little smile on your face. “It’s a machine, Touya. You can’t hurt her feelings.”

You started walking towards the store to pay, and he immediately followed, twirling his keys on his finger. “So where are you headed?”

“Home. Just finished work.”

Touya tilted his head. He held the door open for you and you walked in, quietly thanking him. He’s tall, so he had no issue reaching over and pushing it open before you even could touch the handle.

“Work? Where do you work?”

The store was empty, apart from an blred looking employee fiddling with the cash register. You eyed the chocolate bars and he watched you do so, standing a little closer than normal. “I work at that bookshop on Green street.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. You know it?” You grab a pack of m&ms.

Touya nodded. You both walked over to the fridges, and he slid the door open and you grabbed a can of coke. You pull your hoodie sleeves over your hands. “Yeah. My sister’s always in there.” He said.

You hum. “I probably know her.”

“Not better than me, I hope. I should be the only Todoroki in your life.” He pouted and you snorted a laugh.

“Oh, don’t worry, you are.”

Touya grabbed a red bull and the two of you walked to the counter. Touya queued first, and you watched him fumble in his pockets for his wallet, and come up empty. He looked up sheepishly at the cashier.

“Shit. I left my wallet at home.” He turned to you with an apologetic look on his face. “You have a dollar?”

You smiled, stepping forward. Touya protested as you asked the cashier to ring you up too, but you batted his hands away. He huffed next to you and you rolled your eyes.

“Consider this repayment for that cigarette.” You grinned, tapping your card.

Touya walked you the short distance back to your car. “Does this make you my sugar mommy?”

“Ew, Touya! That’s gross. I’ll take the red bull back.”

Touya laughed loudly. “If you want. I’ve already slobbered all over it though.”

“I think I’ve shared enough cigarettes with you to not care about that.”

You dug in your purse for your car keys, key rings jingling as you unlocked it.

“I guess this is goodbye once more.”

“It sure is, Tanaka.”

Before you could get in it though, he stopped you, hand circling your wrist. His fingers were wet with condensation from the red bull, and you noticed how easily they wrapped around you.

“Wait. Give me your phone.”

You looked at him in confusion. “What, you leave that at home too?”

“Ha ha. No. Just give it. Come on, babe.”

You sighed reluctantly, but dug it out of your pocket nonetheless. “Don’t call me babe.”

“You prefer baby?”

“I prefer Y/N.”

He did something. You couldn’t even see, but you trusted him, brushing a hair behind you head as you watched him tap away. You heard a chime come from his phone, and when he passed yours back, you saw he’d given you his number.

“Perfect.”

You tried to hide the smile that was itching to grace your lips. “What was that for?”

He just slipped his helmet on, unashamed of his own grin. “So I can repay you for that Redbull. Give me a time and place, angel.”

“Y/N.”

He brushed you off. “Same thing.”

It was all downhill from there. He beat you in 8 ball IMessage games every night and sent you the dumbest TikToks you’d ever seen in your life, and you loved it. Touya called you when he was at work, on his walks home, while he was doing school stuff. It only made everything more exciting how forbidden it all was. Sneaking around town so nobody saw you two, only meeting late at night. Sure, you had to clamber out your window on the nights your parents were home and awake, but it was all worth it.

And nothing happened. Not yet, at least. It was nice to complain about your parents to somebody who understood, and the two of you got along in every other aspect too. There was that tension that always hung there whenever the two of you hung out. In the backseat of your car, the alleyway behind his house. The little voice that whispered in the back of head for more, for you to bridge that little gap the two of you were teetering on. But you ignored it, because it was bad enough you two were even friends. Let alone anything else.

But good things never last, and you get found out.

It’s after school, once you’d finished the tutoring gig you have on the side for extra credit in history. Your car was at the shop, and your bus decided it didn’t want to show up that day, so you called the only person you knew with a vehicle (and the only person you wanted to call).

He got here quicker than you thought he would and you frown as the motorbike revs its way into the parking lot. He parked the bike and ripped the helmet off his head. Touya looked far too happy as he hopped off, immediately dumping a helmet in your hands. You quickly text your dad that your friend Rumi was driving you home. It’s not like he’d know. He was at some country club thing across town.

“I knew you’d give in.” He teased.

You pouted and held it for a moment. “I can’t believe I'm going to die at eighteen on a motorbike.”

Touya tutted. “None of that talk. This will be fun.” He whispered the last word, his low drawl sending a shiver up your spine.

You brushed him off, patting your hair down so you could fit the helmet on your head. It was big and bulky, and you lifted up the visor to look at him.

“Aw. You look cute.”

“At least I’ll die pretty.”

He pulled the visor down and knocked the side of the helmet. “Stop talking about dying. I’ll protect you, sweetheart.”

You rolled your eyes. “Enough. Okay. How do we do this?”

Touya sat down on the motorbike. When his legs curved over the side you noticed they were more muscular than you first ever realised, even in the grey sweats he had on. He patted the seat behind him.

“On you get.”

You sighed. You made sure your bag was secured on your back, and gingerly hopped on. You pulled down your skirt as it hitched up your legs, and tried to ignore Touya’s eyes burning holes in your skin. You gripped the edge of the seat and Touya laughed.

“No can do, doll. You gotta hold me.”

Right. That made more sense.

Your arms reached and curled around his middle, resting on his waist. You felt the hard line of muscle on his stomach, and you felt his chest rumble as he laughed once more.

“Closer. Come on, I don’t bite. Not unless you ask me to.”

You mumbled some choice words under your breath before you scooted closer. “Alright. I’m ready.”

“You sure?” He asked, clipping in his own helmet.

“I guess so.”

The motorbike revved to life and you yelped. Your hands immediately gripped him tighter, and as Touya pulled out the parking lot and started driving you’re sure you almost suffocated him with how hard you were holding on. You couldn’t think about the fact he smelled like cigarettes and something musky, because wind was rushing through your hair and face, even where your face was pressed against his back. But, regardless of all that, it was great. Thrilling and adrenaline inducing in a way you hadn’t felt before.

“It’s good, right?” He yelled and you nodded, a smile almost splitting your face in half.

You made it home sooner than you’d have liked. You hopped off the bike, hair sticking on end as you took the helmet off.

“That was fun! Terrifying, but fun.” You yelled. Your ears were a little blocked from the rush of wind.

He fixed the hairs on your head that were sticking all over the place. His hands were bigger than yours but he was gentle as he brushed a strand of hair off your face.

“I told you I wouldn't kill you. Maybe next time you can drive.” His voice was softer than usual, and it made you feel warm.

“Oh, this is never happening again, trust me.”

“I agree.”

You froze. Touya froze too, and you cursed under your breath because that was your father’s voice. Your father who was supposed to be at some country club event right now, which is why you asked Touya to drop you home in the first place. Your face burned red and you turned to see him standing at the front door fuming, staring at the two of you. You immediately stepped away from Touya, and you thought that maybe for one second he didn’t recognise him, that some elaborate lie could get you out of this mess.

“Get off my property, Todoroki, before I call the police.” His voice was clipped and angry.

Fuck. “Dad, it’s-“

He looked at you with an expression so cold and disappointed it silenced you almost instantly. You faltered, turning to Touya. He looked just as caught in the headlights as you did. He stepped forward, to say something, cut through the tension that surrounded your front lawn, but your dad didn’t let him get a word in.

He pulled out his phone. Just held it in the air and fixed Touya with a glare. “You have about ten seconds.”

Your father was a man of his word and you’re happy Touya had some sense to believe him. He clipped his helmet back on his head, and you heard the rev of the motorcycle interrupt the silence before he drove away.

“Dad-“

“Get inside.”

It was weird, being told off. You hadn’t been scolded like that, sat on the couch as your parents stood across from you with fury in their eyes, since you were a child. You were eighteen, for crying out loud. And yet, you still found yourself waiting for him to say something, not brave enough to storm off to your room when he looked as pissed as he did. After another few moments of aching silence, he finally spoke.

“Are you trying to destroy my work? My- My livelihood? Everything me and half the men in your family worked their whole lives for?”

You furrowed your eyebrows. “What? Dad, we were just-“

“You shouldn’t be anything with that boy! Do you even know what he’s like?” He yelled.

You sat up straighter. “He’s not a boy, Dad, he’s eighteen years old. So am I! We don’t have any business with you and Enji!”

Your dad shook his head. “It’s not about that! It’s- Do you even know his intentions? What if- His father is not a good man, Y/N. God knows what his son would turn out like.”

And you felt anger bridling between your veins, your head screaming at you to defend Touya’s name, because you know he has good intentions, that he has no business with Enji. He’s complained about him enough that you think he might hate him more than your own father does.

He cursed under his breath. He sat down heavily on the coffee table across from you.

“Listen. I know you don’t care about this business, that you have no interest in it. That’s fine. I keep you out of it as much as I can, so I understand why you don’t realise why this is so bad.”

Your father rubbed at his eyes, and it was in moments like that you saw his age. That you noticed the wrinkles that had made home on his face, the tiredness that never seemed to leave no matter how much he slept.

“But it is bad. This- This business, it’s so competitive. Everything matters. And it looks bad for my partners if they see you together. You know how things are in this town, how much people talk, and he’s not exactly got the most picture perfect image. I mean, the dyed hair, the piercings.” Your dad shakes his head. “There’s- You know he has a criminal record? He committed arson when he was fifteen.”

“But Dad-“

“There’s no buts. Not only do this bad for me, but you said you had school, and I see you coming home on a motorbike when me and your mother aren’t home. All because of that boy.” He spits.

“I didn’t lie, I did have school. He was just dropping me home!”

“You told me Rumi was dropping you home. So you lied. And I’m sure it’s not the first time. Don’t think we don’t know you’ve been sneaking out.”

Your face burned red. You didn’t even try to deny it and. Your father nodded his head. “See? We thought it was just- Rebellious teenager stuff. But now I know you were probably going out to see him.”

Your father stopped you before you could try defend yourself. “You’re grounded. School and then work and then home. No more sneaking out and no more motorbikes.”

Your mouth gaped open. “What? I don’t even get to defend myself?”

“No. Go to your room.”

“I’m not a child, dad! You can’t ground me!” You spluttered, but he shrugged.

“You’re still living under my roof, and I'm still paying for everything. So yeah, I can ground you.”

It was a bit hard to defend your maturity when you did indeed storm into your room like a child. It was a surprise you didn’t get in even more trouble for your little outburst. You’re sure if your father wasn’t as tired as he was he would’ve doubled your punishment for talking back like you did.

So you stopped talking to Touya. You didn't want to, but the watchful eyes of your parents and the guilt from that exhausted look that you put on your fathers face was sort of eating you up. You never really thought about the fact that he would’ve wanted you to take over the business, like he took it from his father. How much it all meant to him. You didn’t understand the logistics of his business because you never cared to and you can’t help but feel a little horrible because of it.

So you started leaving Touya on delivered. You replied less and you ignored the heavy weight on your chest it caused and the fact that you missed him more each second he was away. You knew if you entertained his conversation even slightly you’d be back to sneaking out and finding him in town, so you tried as best as you could to keep your distance. You felt bad that you couldn’t explain why. But the truth is you barely understood why yourself.

You worked and studied and came home just like your parents asked, desperate for your freedom and less of their overbearing eyes on you all the time.

But you couldn’t avoid Touya forever, and soon enough, there’s another party your whole family is expected to be at, some community thing that apparently everyone in town is going to. Your fathers up for an award and he wants you there. You’ve been informed your grounding will be lifted if you can show up and look the part, so you’re sort of excited to go, if more for the outcome than the event itself.

You wear a dark blue dress, the slit coming up to your thigh. The soft, silk material shines as it catches the light, and you pair it with a gold necklace your mother had bought you years ago. You do your makeup and fix your hair, spritzing yourself with your most expensive perfume. You’re not stupid. You know Touya is going to be there, so you may as well dress the part in case he catches a glimpse of you.

And, low and behold, he does. You’ve seen him once tonight. He’s wearing a black suit and a black button up and he sticks out like a sore thumb in between his family, but you know he doesn’t care. He looks bored and it’s a good look on him. His jaw is set and he sips in a glass of champagne. He notices you just once, blue eyes locking onto yours. They look at your face, drop to the exposed skin of your legs and collarbones. And then they look away.

You last about an hour of speeches and clapping before you find yourself outside. Today's venue is fancier and security guarded, so instead of exploring, you just stand outside, a ways away from the door. You wish you could go home but your ride is inside and probably still pissed at you. You itch for a cigarette and the boy who comes with them.

You know that you could probably call him right now and he’d come out, but. You feel some obligation to your family. To your father. It’s the least you could do to keep your hands off him tonight of all nights.

“You wanna share?”

You turn, and like you knew deep down, he’s there. It took him about ten minutes, but you knew he’d follow you out. You were hoping for it, relally. To get a glimpse of him alone, like he was really all for you. He’s illuminated by the moonlight and the soft glow of the streetlight you were leaning on. You look at the cigarette waiting patiently in his hands, and you look away.

“No, thanks.”

You can hear cars driving a couple streets down. The night air is cold, and your hands rub up and down your arms to try to warm you up. Touya nudges your arm and when you look, his suit jacket is in his hands.

“I’m alright.”

Touya frowns. “So that’s it? You’re just never going to speak to me again?”

You shake your head, turning away. “It’s- I can’t, Touya.”

And he scoffs, incredulous. He pulls you back and his skin is warm even outside. And when you face him, he looks desperate, and you want to turn away. He doesn’t let go of you though, and holds you in place.

“You can. Who gives a shit what our parents want?”

“I do!” You yell. “Touya, you know what our fathers are like. This- This business is everything for them!”

“Okay? And what does that have to do with us?” He says, his grip tightening.

“It-“ You struggle for the words like they’re stuck in your throat. “It has everything to do with us, come on, Touya. You know that.”

Even this, just talking to him is enough to have your parents mad at you. And if anyone inside catches this? Catches the way his hands are sliding down your arms to hold yours, the way you’re looking up at him? You’re dead.

“I don’t know. I- God. You make me sound so whipped.”

He mumbles the last sentence like it’s just meant for him. At the confused look on your face he smiles, bittersweet and aching.

“I don’t know what it has to do with us, Y/N.” And it’s your name that leaves his lips, not some stupid nickname, and it tugs at your heart. “I don’t know and honestly, I don’t care.”

“I’m not taking over the business. I don’t give a shit about my dad and everything he stands for. I give a shit about you. I know that- there’s probably a hundred other guys that are probably way more deserving of you but.”

He swallows roughly. Runs a hand through perfectly imperfect hair, then immediately comes back to hold you.

“But I like you. Okay? I- I like you and I don’t care that our parents are fucking company rivals, I couldn’t give less of a shit. I really like you. And- you not talking to me for the past few days? It’s fucking killing me.”

“I-“

But he cuts you off. “Don’t lie. Okay? Don’t lie to me. Don’t act like you don’t feel the same way.”

He steps closer. Your hand comes up and rests on his chest and you think you can feel his heartbeat.

“Touya. I don’t- I don’t know.”

Your fingers curl in his shirt. The fabric feels expensive in your hands, rough against the smoothness of his skin. The distance between you is so small, yet you feel like it might take everything in you to pull him closer. His hands slide from your hands to settle against your waist and they burn through the layers of your dress.

You can hear the sound of music slipping out from under the doors. You wonder how long it will take for someone to notice you’re missing, and you wonder if you’ll be here with Touya when they do. You can only imagine the look on your fathers face, the look on Enji, if they caught you two even talking. Let alone whatever this is.

The dress you’re wearing does nothing to protect you from the cold, but you don’t think it’s the reason you’re shivering. It’s wrong. God, it’s so wrong that you can feel it physically, the cells in your body urging you to pull away.

But he’s looking at you like nobody ever has. Eyes flirting from your lips, to the slope of your nose, the heat you can feel colouring your cheeks. There’s a look of desperation in his face you’d feel horrible to ignore, like he might die if he goes one more second without you. The streetlight casts shards of light across his face and you’re certain the person standing in front of you can’t be human. You find him beautiful in a way you didn’t think was possible, and you’re scared and begging that he knows that.

You stand, silent and breathing, for what might be a lifetime. You’re both daring the other to make the first move. Both too scared to ask for what you want.

Touya lifts his hand. He curls it around your face, rests it against the space in between your neck, just where it meets your shoulder. He asks. Silent and still somehow the loudest thing you’ve ever heard.

A nod. Imperceptible at best, but enough. Enough for someone desperately searching for it.

A breath.

And then he’s on you. His hands pull you closer and your own curve against the slope of his jaw, scratching against the faint stubble on his chin. And his lips are rough and pressing as they melt against your own, like he’s trying to fit himself inside your mouth. He bites at your bottom lip and your mouth opens with a soft noise, and he’s licking, tongue searching your gums and the uneven line of your teeth.

You push him back, panting for breath. “We- Touya, chill.” You laugh breathlessly as his lips trail down your neck, licking at your pulse and biting at the soft skin of your shoulders.

“No.”

“Someone could walk out and see us.” You whisper weakly.

“Don’t care. I’d fuck you in front of them all.”

“Touya.” You scold, blushing furiously.

You finally push him back properly. Your hands come up and land on his face, thumb brushing the globe of his cheeks. His face is flushed and warm and his lips look so kissed and swollen. He blinks impossibly long lashes at you and you smile despite yourself.

“I like you too. Obviously. I just- You need to give me time. To figure this all out.”

He swallows and you watch his Adam Apple bob.

“I know you don’t care about what your father thinks, but I do. And- I need to find a way to convince him. Then, we can see.”

Touya nods. He waits a beat. “Does this mean you’ll stop ignoring me?”

Guilt clenches in your stomach. “Yes. Sorry about that.” You say sheepishly.

He hums. “I think I’ll need a few more kisses first before I forgive you.”

“Degenerate. Pass me that cigarette.”

—————————————————————————-

Touya Todoroki I’ll never forget u.. we r five years strong ☺️ I hate this slightly but I also love it.. so who knows

my period was late so it’s so painful and bad.. keep me I. Ur prayers people

As always hope u enjoyed <3

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concretejunglefm · 1 day ago

Text

I'm not ready to let you forget me (part 5 - finale)

*edit credit goes to the lovely @defuckingthrone-dot-com

You told your friends you want me dead And said that I did everythin' wrong And you're not wrong

An anon request for lovers to enemies -> playlist, part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4, part 5.

Summary: It’s been two years since Noah cheated on you, abruptly ending your relationship. However, the universe seems to have a peculiar sense of humor in its plan to reunite you.

Pairing: Noah Sebastian x reader.

CW: None really. Mentions of cheating, Noah can be an overall asshole and a tad bit of angst.

WC: 1.8k

AN: This is the final part in this fic. I hope all of those who've read it have enjoyed and thank you to the anon for requesting this idea, I hope that it met any of your expectations. I had so much fun playing with this trope.

Dividers: Silent-stories.

Maybe it had all been a fluke. Perhaps the vulnerable side of Noah you had witnessed in his candidness had been a fleeting glimpse into something you would never encounter again.

As you retreat to the bar and adhere to your initial plan for the evening—wallowing in self-pity with a few cocktails—you find Noah seated there with his friends, his usual smug expression restored.

This time, it irks you more, especially when he briefly glances your way but chooses to ignore you. It shouldn't bother you as much as it does. You thought that you had somehow moved forward, yet it feels like you've taken several steps backward.

After ordering a drink, you seek a quiet corner, or as quiet as can be found in a bustling bar within a Vegas hotel, and settle down, sipping contentedly on your cocktail while your eyes slowly scan the room.

"Excuse me, is this seat taken?"

You briefly glance up to find Noah standing over you, but he doesn't wait for a response before sliding himself into the booth beside you.

"Can I help you?" You can't help but let your attitude slip through, as you felt slighted by earlier and him choosing to walk away.

"Retract those claws, kitten. I'm here to apologize." Somehow, you don't believe him, but you choose to relax slightly and offer him a genuine smile.

"Go ahead." You encourage him.

"You realize that you're the only woman who's ever made me get down on my knees and apologize, right?" You catch a faint smirk at the corner of his mouth, as if he's suppressing the enjoyment he derived from that.

"And I would do it again." You retort, maintaining a composed face and concealing any indication of your own thoughts behind it, by taking another sip of your drink.

"I don't doubt that." He scoffs, settling back against the seat, and you feel his arm brush against yours. "I genuinely mean it. I'm sorry. I shouldn't have walked away earlier. It was just… a lot to process."

"And you've never been good with big boy emotions?" You quip, closing your mouth around the straw in your glass after apologizing, allowing him to continue.

He chuckles, despite the brief glare he had given you prior. "I suppose you're right. I've never really been good at expressing my feelings. But I also didn't know about your trip and whatever the guys had planned."

Your head perks up, and your brow furrows slightly as you pull your drink away. "Yeah, what was all that about? You said you knew I was coming?"

"Listen, all I knew was we had a show in Vegas. Apparently, Jolly, Sloan, and Nick had been planning this trip ever since. I only found out you were coming the week before we left. Apparently, Sloan asked what flight we were on."

Suddenly, everything began to make sense; the last-minute trip, the separate seats, and the fact that you were conveniently sat next to each other.

If you were a betting person, you would bet that she had also arranged the hotel rooms, given that this entire trip had been paid for using her hotel points through her work. "That mother—"

You grumble before Noah cuts you off. "I can't say it was the best idea, but I can't deny that I'm not happy it happened."

"Why? You realize that all this has only made us fight more than ever before."

"Yeah, but you're kind of hot when you're all fired up like that." Noah smirks, and you feel his eyes rake over you in a way that makes you squirm.

You hadn't expected that response from him. He was naturally flirty and charming, but there was some level of sincerity to his words, like he wasn't just trying to woo you.

"I still hate you." You clarify, and there's that smirk, wider than before, as he leans in close to you.

His mouth against your ear, he whispers, "I hear that hate-fucking is the best kind of sex."

His breath, hot against your ear, sends a shiver down your spine, between his words and the unexpected closeness of him.

Before you can respond, Folio's voice calls for him, and Noah swiftly slips away, giving you a wink in return.

There he is again, the same old cocky guy you've always known. Despite the frustration, it's strangely comforting, knowing that beneath it all, he remains the same.

"I come in peace." Sloan says as she approaches you at the bar.

"Why are you acting like that?" You laugh and reach out for her hand, pulling her towards you.

"Because." she pouts. One glance into her eyes reveals the slight glassiness from a few too many drinks this evening. "Noah mentioned he told you about the whole plan. I thought you would be mad."

You shake your head and sigh. "I'm not mad."

"Just disappointed?" Her pout deepens, and you can't help but laugh.

"No! I mean, a bit, but I should've expected it from you. Meddling in my life is your second favorite pastime, after breaking boys' hearts."

"I do really well at the first one, don't I?" Losing her pout, Sloan stands up straight, as if proud of her accomplishment in your eyes and flips her hair over her shoulder. "But I don't want to break this one." She confesses, shuffling closer to you before her head turns, and you follow her gaze towards Jolly and the rest of the guys.

"Then don't. Let yourself actually be happy with a guy for a change." You gently nudge your hip against her, and she looks back to you, nodding in agreement.

"And you should let yourself get a guy."

"Like who? Noah?"

She instantly shakes her head and scoffs, dismissing the idea with a wave of her hand. "No. But I did see that cute waiter from the other night over there." She points to another table where a group of guys are sitting together. To your surprise, she's right. The waiter from the other night is sitting on the edge of the couch, talking to his friends.

With a nod and a quick pep talk from Sloan, you head over to his table, holding your head high as you try to think of anything flirty enough to catch his attention.

"Fancy seeing you here." you purr down at him. The guys' eyes shoot up to you, and surprise quickly turns to delight.

"What a nice surprise." he flashes you a smile and shuffles over, patting down for you to join him and his friends.

"Stare any harder, and you might just set him on fire." Jolly quips, passing Noah and patting him on the back with a chuckle.

Noah's eyes have been fixed on you ever since you approached the waiter from the other night and sat down. "What on earth is she doing talking to him?" he struggles to hide his annoyance at the thought of you entertaining someone else.

He doesn't notice the look shared between his friends, who are all watching him. Instead, he remains fixed on you with a heavily possessive stare.

Noah's jaw clenches with every giggle, every arm touch, and every movement that brings you closer to the guy you're with. He quickly looks away whenever he catches your head turning in his direction, afraid that you might see him staring.

"What are you going to do? Stop her from leaving with him?" Nick asks.

"If I have to." Noah replies.

At that moment, he notices you moving from the seat, your hand still holding onto the waiter from the other night, and watches you move through the crowd of people.

He tries to follow after you, but he doesn't know what he'll do if he catches up. Will he tell you not to go with him? Will he ask you to leave him with him instead?

He has no real plan of action, except for a determination to rush over and stop the lift after he sees you both stepping inside.

The doors close just a second too soon as he finally reaches it. "Fuck!" he grumbles under his breath and looks towards the doors leading to the stairs. Quickly, he runs over to them, pushing through the door and taking two steps at a time, determined to catch up with you.

David, as you learn the waiter's name to be, is a pleasant guy. Despite the fun and flirty nature of your conversation, Noah's words remain heavily on your mind.

Between his apology and his comment about hate-fucking being the best type of sex, your eyes constantly wander to the bar until you spot him.

Convinced you've caught him staring, you can't resist the urge to tease him and decidedly invite David to join you for a nightcap in your room, slipping away with him.

It only takes a quick glance back at Noah's direction to see him already making his way through the crowd towards you.

You've got him right where you want him.

As you reach the lifts, you pull David inside, pressing the button for your floor. When you catch Noah heading in your direction, your hands move to the front of David's shirt, grasping him tightly and pulling him closer as the doors close.

Once alone with him, you push him back and reach for the buttons, pressing for the next floor. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have invited you up. I was just trying to make someone jealous." You confess, feeling a pang of guilt as you meet his gaze.

"Is it the guy from the other night by any chance?" He asks, and you remain silent, making him chuckle as he steps out of the lift on the next floor.

"I think you don't have to worry about trying to make him jealous. I think he's already there." You catch the way his eyes move across the hall, and you peek out of the lift to see Noah standing at the door to the stairwell.

As David passes Noah and enters the stairwell, you watch him approach you, and step back into the lift, him following, a slight smirk playing on his lips. "So, you were trying to make me jealous?"

"I never said that."

"You didn't have to."

He backs you into the corner of the lift, and your back presses against the cool, mirrored wall as you gaze up at him. "I hate you." You growl, Noah taking a step closer and closing the gap between you.

"I know, you've said." he says with a smug grin, trapping you between his body and the lift wall. His arm stretches out, and his hand rests just above you.

For a fleeting moment, your eyes meet, and you catch a glimpse of the heat in his own eyes. They unmistakably flicker down to your mouth.

"Kiss me then." you can't help but smirk as you watch him lean in towards you.

Your lips meet in a passionate exchange as the lift doors finally close, sealing you together on the ride back up to your shared floor.

If you truly hate him as much as you claim to, then why do you find yourself waking up in his bed the next morning?

tagged: @fadingangelwisp @deathblacksmoke @geminigirlfromfinland @fuck1ng-queen @xxkittenkissesxx @lacy1986 @ichoosetenderomens @chey-h @blade-dressed-in-red @collisionofyourkissmakesitsohard @halfalgorithmhafdeity @dominuslunae @tosoundlessdarkistare @annthepenguin @samanthasgone @littlebear423 @aprosiacperson @flowery-mess @nyriastark @blackgirlmagicforever, @alwaysfightforwhoyouare @lonelydragonlady

#bad omens fanfiction #noah sebastian fanfiction #noah sebastian fanfic #noah sebastian x reader #noah sebastian fic #bad omens fanfic #bad omens fic #lovers to enemies fic

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radioactiverats · 2 days ago

Text

Starscream x cybertronian!reader

It’s one of those days and you can’t stop thinking. You can count on Starscream to wipe your processor blank <3

18+ 🌶️

———

You’re getting ready for recharge, having made your best efforts to wait up for Starscream, but no longer able to stay online - when a large, warm frame presses up against your back. You shiver as warm ex-vents gust over the back of your neck cabling, and a pair of large servos snake up to hold your hips in place - but even as you’re prevented from turning around, you already know who it is.

“The mission went well, I take it?” You say.

“Mm,” Starscream murmurs, tugging you closer. He dips his helm to nose at the base of your jaw, and you gasp as his glossa darts out to lick the sensory net there.

Starscream had been busy as of late - Megatron had been ramping up the pressure on the high command, and Starscream had borne the brunt of it. It had kept him away from you, sometimes for days at a time - and now, it seemed that the distance had affected him as much as it did you. He clearly wasn’t in the mood for niceties, eager to catch up on intimacy with you instead.

You tilt your helm up, allowing him better access to your neck cables as you lay your smaller servos over his. His engines rumble with approval, mouth dragging wetly, sinfully over the sensitive section of cabling that meets your shoulder. It feels good to press yourself against Starscream’s warmth - his frame is lithe, as seekers are, but he still dwarfs you entirely - you allow yourself to bask in that long-lost sense of safety that he always brings you.

Finally, he allows you to turn around, but doesn’t allow you a moment’s respite before his lips are on yours, servos roaming across your back. A few kliks later, however, it becomes apparent that something’s wrong. He breaks the kiss even as you whine in complaint, drawing back to gauge your expression with a concerned frown. “What is it?”

Frag.

Where do you even begin to explain, when you’re not even sure what the problem is? You want this as much as he does - you’ve spent countless nights tossing and turning in your shared berth, acutely feeling the empty space beside you as you.

But today of all days simply had to be one of those times where you’d groggily been thrown from recharge, still disoriented by dreams even though you no longer remembered them - and the unsettled feeling would simply take root in your processor like a black hole, its gravitational field drawing out the most insidious of your anxieties until you were drowning in a spiral of your own thoughts. On days like this, you would wryly wonder how your processor wasn’t visibly smoking yet - you simply couldn’t stop your racing thoughts, and the only way to stop it would be to cut the day short with an early recharge, coupled with a prayer that tomorrow would be better.

There you go, getting lost in your thoughts again. You shake your helm, trying to rid yourself of the thoughts clawing at the edges of your processor - and when you cycle your optics open, Starscream’s still gazing at you. Concern is evident on his faceplate, but you watch helplessly as something shutters in his optics - presumably stowing his emotions away at your presumed rejection of his advances.

He takes care of you, he always does - and perhaps it was a habit that came with his position as SIC, but you know that he’s briskly deconstructing his emotions, filing them away to tackle whatever issue was bothering you. You know he means well - he’d always been a bot to solve your problems rather than offer comfort. But right now, he doesn’t know that closing his emotions off, putting distance between you to help with whatever this was, was utterly unbearable to you.

His servos tighten briefly on your hips before withdrawing slightly. The rasp of his voice is carefully neutral. “Tell me if you don’t want this-”

“No!" You burst out, servos shooting out to slam over his - over your plates, you feel his elegant fingers twitch in surprise as you desperately try to stop him from pulling away. “I do.”

“Then-?”

You look down, shamefaced. How, indeed, do you go about explaining what’s happening in your processor without embarrassing yourself? Without looking like a weakling?

Defeatedly, you lean forwards to plunk your helm against Starscream’s chassis. “I don’t know,” You say glumly. “I just sometimes get like this.”

The frustration in your voice tugs painfully at Starscream’s spark - one of his servos settle at the base of your spinal strut, the other cradling your helm, holding you close. “Like what?”

“Just… can’t stop thinking.”

Your servos tighten into fists, angry at yourself for ruining the happiness of this hard-won moment. However, Starscream doesn’t let you spiral for long - quick as a flash, his steady servos gently but insistently work to uncurl your stiff fingers from where they’d been digging into the sensitive plates of your palms.

“I’m here,” he murmurs, raising your trembling servo to his lips, dotting gentle kisses along your knuckles. “Just say the word, and I’ll make it so you think of nothing but us.”

Immediately, your racing thoughts descend like a tidal wave. You want this. Want it so badly. But what if you ruin it midway? Are you ruining the mood, putting distance between you even before you begin? As if sensing your inner struggle, Starscream’s EM field nudges gently against yours, disrupting the onslaught - and you melt into the merge with a sigh, the sincerity of his affections blanketing you in a cocoon of warmth.

Your disruptive thoughts begin to thaw, enough for you to realize you're spiralling again. Why not just give in, when Starscream is offering so freely?

“Please,” You whisper, and Starscream’s satisfied growl reverberates through his frame and into yours before he’s claiming your lips in a bruising kiss.

———

It’s clear that Starscream’s been pent up, judging by the punishing pace he sets. Every snap of his hips has you seeing stars as he pounds into your ceiling node. His unrelenting pace doesn’t allow you time to linger on your thoughts - it’s rough, it’s quick, it’s exactly what you need.

For a while, your processor is wiped wondrously blank. You do nothing but feel as your sensors sing to life, Starscream watching intently as your faceplate contorts with pleasure.

It's some time later before you realize you're not really there. Apparently having drifted off without even knowing - your sensors so overwhelmed with sensation that you feel like you’ve reached the ceiling of your pleasure, ever teetering yet unable to fall over the edge. Sensation plateauing into a flatline, the initial blessed blankness of your processor becomes a whiteboard on which your thoughts begin to form again in haphazard scribbles. Distantly, you’re aware of the pleasure that buzzes through your frame - but it feels like you’re not really there to experience it firsthand, as if a dampener had been installed over your sensory nets. Your processor races and races, how you could have, should have done better, how you’re not enough, how you're somehow ruining everything. You nearly sob in frustration as you find yourself unable to reach your peak, your need to get lost in physical sensation ironically pulling you further and further from overload, further and further from Starscream.

Starscream must have noticed that he was losing you. With a snarl, he bites savagely into your neck cables, fangs piercing through to draw energon. You buck against him with a cry, at the delicious flash of pain that shocks you right back into your frame, struck all at once by the sensation of heat - energon searing through your lines and the burn of Starscream’s plates against yours. “Stay with me,” he growls, but as your optics meet his, he seems to understand that there’s something else you need.

You squeal as he effortlessly hauls you up to sit astride his lap. Gravity has you sinking even further down on his spike, and you need a klik to ex-vent weakly against his chassis, frame twitching as his biolights brush over the sensitive walls of your valve. Starscream gathers you close, crooning low in his vocaliser - a frequency which helps to quiet your swirling anxieties some.

Instead of resuming a punishing pace like you expected, he slows down, gently guiding the movement of your hips over his spike. On his lap like this, his large servos wandering warmly over your frame, there’s no escape fro the overwhelming desire in his EM field to claim, to protect.

“Do you feel me?” Starscream murmurs.

His movements are slow and purposeful, carefully, patiently reawakening the sensitive sensors that line your callipers. You moan weakly as he presses closer, glossa laving tenderly over the bite in your neck cables. His strength prevents you from just sliding down the entirety of his spike, controlling the pace at which you lower yourself - forcing your sensors to process every inch of his spike as it strokes deep inside you, to take every flare of pleasure up your spinal strut.

Starscream doesn’t appear to be in any rush now - lazily basking in the intimacy of being close to you, inside you - enjoying your molten heat around him in favour of rushing to a conclusion. Under his careful ministrations, your gasps become layered with static, the snap of your charge loud in your audials.

Your charge had been building for a while now, crackling across your frame with nowhere to go. “Starscream,” You slur, static glitching your vocaliser. “Please, I need, I need…”

“Need to overload, do you?” Starscream croons. “Poor thing. Don’t worry, I have you.”

His hips snap up as your intake falls open in a soundless cry - hard and fast again, pushing you higher and higher - then, without warning, he pinches a major cable in your neck, interrupting your charge as he simultaneously transfers a potent dose of his own charge onto your frame.

For a fraction of a nanoklik, your charge reroutes - and smashes right into itself.

Your vision whites out as you’re utterly blindsided by overload. You might have screamed, you’re not sure - the intensity of cascading pleasure has you writhing on Starscream’s spike, fragmented cries of his designation tearing from your vocaliser.

He doesn’t let up, hips slamming unrelentingly into yours even as your vocaliser pitches into a whine from overstimulation - until he’s overloading inside you with a snarl, grinding his spike against your abused ceiling node as he fills you with his transfluid.

For a few nanokliks, all that fills the room is the sound of your ragged ex-vents. At last, your processor is blessedly, blissfully blank. Starscream gathers you to his chassis, stroking your helm as you both come down from your high.

“Rest,” he murmurs. “l'll be here when you wake up."

#transformers #maccadam #transformers x reader #starscream x reader #starscream #tf starscream

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totallyxtaurus · 2 days ago

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I just want you to know who I am 🏮

Summary: What if Sylus had kept going to all those lantern festivals in hopes you'd be there and what would he do if you actually were. Pairing: Sylus x gn reader A/N: Um hi! I haven't written a "fanfic" since middle school so this has me super uncomfortable and feeling especially vulnerable since I am VERY out of practice. I've only been writing academic papers for the past four+ years and while I've taken a couple creative writing courses I just felt subpar compared to my peers and I stopped writing fiction completely. However, I maladaptive daydream constantly and Sylus + music is a really good source of creativity for me. I have a part two in mind but we'll see! So, my awkward ramblings aside, I hope you enjoy! ദ്ദി(˵ •̀ ᴗ - ˵ ) ✧

“Boss, we found them. Apparently, they’re residing in Linkon,” the twins reported as they placed the manila folder on his desk. Sylus, not sparing them a glance, grunts softly in recognition keeping focused on his task at hand. However, a fire fueled by hope kindles in his heart at the news, radiating warmth through his chest, as if gently urging him to surrender to its pull. He opened the folder and began to read the information in front of him. Still, nothing matched the description he had given. Heaving a sigh, the flame of hope dampened, Sylus notices a note on the document about the upcoming lantern festival. He pauses, wondering if, regardless of the accuracy of the information he has, you might be there.

The sky had already grown dark, and fireworks echoed in the distance. The smell of delicious food permeated the air and the bright lights of millions of lanterns strung up and decorated every inch of the ground burned into Sylus’s retinas. Yet, he continued to press on. He’s been walking around for hours, taking in every sight and smell, but also searching for anyone who might be you. Anyone with the same color hair or stature as you once had. His trained eye sought out anyone who laughed in a similar octave you had, scrutinizing each face, hoping he finally found you. But every time, it led to that same emptiness cradled deep in the core of his being—the part of you still trapped there, lying dormant.

That was… how many years ago now? Sylus had lost count of how long he’d returned to Linkon’s lantern festival. Each time a failure, each time dimming the flame of hope that once burned at the mention of Linkon City. Yet, it was that time of year again when the festival would commence, just as it always did. This would be the last time Sylus participated, finally deciding to give up the search for you—for good. The same sights, sounds, and smells that once sparked curiosity in Sylus, now suffocate him. What had once been a world of wonder distorts into a stifling prison, each sensation now nauseating, a reminder of the weight that has settled on him.

Up and down the same aisles, back and forth through familiar stalls, Sylus drifts through the festival on autopilot, visiting the vendors he’s known for years. Each one greets him with a warmth that feels strangely foreign, their smiles are tinged with an apprehension he can’t ignore. That same apprehension had followed him ever since he first started coming to the festival—whether it was the stolen glances of passersby or the blatant gawking of children. Sylus knows he sticks out like a sore thumb, but he ignores it, continuing his monotonous stroll.

He stops in his tracks, taking in the scene before him—a child wailing over what sounds like a lost hand puppet. Sylus glances down at the lion head puppet resting in his hand and kneels to offer it to the child. The crying halts instantly, and wary yet sparkling eyes look up at him. The parents, overwhelmed with gratitude, profusely thank him before ushering their child along. As he straightens up, a familiar floral fragrance hits him. His heart races. His head snaps left and right, his body swiveling desperately as he searches for the source. He knows that scent—it sparks the fire within him, a fire that ignites and pulses through his entire body. Without thinking, his legs begin moving, drawn by a golden trail of light that weaves through the reddish-black mist around him. It’s guiding him. It’s guiding him to you. You’re actually here.

Also, in case anyone is like me and is interested in knowing the inspiration behind pieces of writing. This is the song I was listening to while writing and titling this! 💗

#love and deepspace #lads #lnds #sylus x reader #lads fanfic #lads sylus #lnds sylus #sylus love and deepspace #sylus x mc #i tried to be culturally sensitive and did a lot of research on what an actual lantern festival would look like so i hope it's okay #🥲#Spotify #gn reader #x gn reader

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prettygirl-gabi · 8 hours ago

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For Real This Time

Fandom: UConn Women’s Basketball

Pairing: Paige Bueckers x Reader

Rating: T (Teen)

Warnings: Fluff, light angst (resolved), redemption arc, playful flirting, first-person POV

Summary: Paige finally asks you out properly, making sure that when she asks you to be her girlfriend, it's for real this time.

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3 of Played (final part)

Tag: @paigeluvvr @janaelalfysloml

A month had passed.

A month since the mess at the party. A month since Paige and Ice had nearly ruined everything. A month since they both worked their asses off to fix it.

And, surprisingly, they had.

Paige was back to being her usual self—focused, competitive, an absolute menace on the court. Ice was still her goofy self but noticeably more careful with her words. And me? I was finally in a place where I didn’t feel like my heart was caught between resentment and longing.

But there was still something missing.

Paige and I were close again, laughing and joking like before, but there was an invisible line we hadn’t crossed. A tension that lingered, an unspoken what now? hanging in the air.

Apparently, today was the day Paige decided to answer that question.

“You got plans tonight, mamas?”

I glanced up from my phone, finding Paige standing in front of me with that signature cocky smirk.

I rolled my eyes, but a smile tugged at my lips. “Why?”

She grinned, dropping onto the seat beside me and draping an arm over my shoulders like it was the most natural thing in the world. “Because I’m taking you out.”

I raised an eyebrow. “Oh, you are?”

“Mhm.” She nodded confidently. “A proper date. No bets, no games—just me tryna sweep you off your feet.”

I tried to ignore the way my heart did a stupid little flip. “And what if I say no?”

Paige tilted her head, pretending to think. “Then I’ll just have to show up at your dorm with flowers and serenade you until you agree.”

I laughed. “Serenade me? You cannot sing, Bueckers.”

She placed a dramatic hand over her heart. “Damn, ma, that’s crazy. You haven’t even heard me yet.”

“Don’t need to.” I smirked. “I just know.”

Paige chuckled, leaning in closer until her lips were near my ear. “Guess you’ll just have to go on this date to find out.”

I swallowed, heat creeping up my neck. She was so annoying. And attractive. And annoyingly attractive.

I sighed, feigning exasperation. “Fine.”

Her grin was immediate. “Yeah?”

I nudged her. “Don’t make me change my mind.”

Paige just laughed, standing up and stretching. “Wear something cute, baby. Not that you don’t always look cute—” she winked, backing away, “—but, y’know, extra cute. For me.”

I rolled my eyes again, but there was no hiding the smile on my face.

That Night

Paige picked me up from my dorm, looking obnoxiously good in a fitted sweater and jeans.

She let out a low whistle when she saw me. “Damn. You tryna kill me, ma?”

I bit my lip, playing along. “That depends. You gonna survive this date?”

Paige smirked. “Not if you keep looking at me like that.”

I shook my head, laughing as she led me to her car.

Dinner was fun—Paige was extra flirty, taking every opportunity to touch my hand, brush my hair back, lean in too close just to see if I’d blush. (Spoiler: I did.)

At one point, she fed me a bite of her food, watching me with a knowing smile. “Damn, I missed this.”

I swallowed, meeting her gaze. “Missed what?”

Paige’s smile softened. “Us. Being like this.”

My heart clenched in the best way. “Yeah… me too.”

She reached across the table, gently lacing her fingers with mine. “So let’s make it official, the right way.”

I blinked. “Huh?”

Paige chuckled. “I mean, I’ve already won you over, the fair and square way.”

I rolled my eyes, but she squeezed my hand before I could protest.

“Let me do this right,” she murmured, her voice softer now. “Be my girlfriend, for real this time. No bullshit, no bets. Just me and you.”

Something warm bloomed in my chest. “For real?”

“For real.” Paige’s thumb brushed over my knuckles. “No games. Just us.”

I exhaled, smiling. “Okay.”

Paige grinned. “Yeah?”

I laughed. “Yeah.”

She squeezed my hand again before pulling me out of my seat and into a tight hug, swaying us slightly. “Bout damn time, ma.”

I melted into her, hiding my smile in her shoulder. “Shut up, Bueckers.”

She just laughed, pressing a kiss to my temple. “Can’t. Too busy being in love with my girl.”

And this time, when she said it, I knew she meant every word.

Later That Night

We were curled up on my couch, some random rom-com playing in the background. Paige had her arm around me, fingers tracing slow circles on my hip.

“You know,” she murmured, her lips grazing my temple, “this is the part where we usually ruin things.”

I tensed slightly. “Paige—”

She pulled back, shaking her head. “No, not like that. I just mean… this time, I wanna do it right. I don’t wanna rush or mess it up. You mean too much to me.”

My heart squeezed. “You mean a lot to me too.”

Paige smiled, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear. “Then we take it slow. No pressure, no expectations—just you and me.”

I nodded, feeling the weight of all the past mistakes lift just a little. “That sounds good.”

Paige grinned. “Yeah?”

I smirked. “Yeah.”

She leaned in, her lips barely brushing mine before pausing. “Can I kiss you?”

I laughed softly. “Paige, we’ve already kissed before.”

She shrugged. “Yeah, but not like this.”

Something about the way she said it sent warmth flooding through me.

So I whispered, “Yes.”

And when her lips met mine, it wasn’t rushed or reckless. It wasn’t tangled in confusion or fear.

It was real.

For real this time.

---

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-Thank You For Reading!🩵🩶

-prettygirl-gabi🎀✨️

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pampushky · 1 day ago

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they hang on every breath

Alpha! Lando Norris/Omega! Lauda! Reader - chapter 5 - 4k words

First of all:

GO BIRDS WE FUCKING DID IT AGAIN! SURPRISE! IM AN EAGLES FAN! anyway enjoy <3

previous part | next part | masterlist | series masterlist

October, 2005. FIA Headquarters, Paris

When they’d first founded the pack, Niki was the original Prime Alpha. James Hunt had been the Prime Beta. At the time, there had yet to be any omega to work in any formula series, let alone drive or work on the car. So Marlene had been the Prime Omega then, completing all the proper paperwork for the pack to be recognized by the FISA, FIA, and any other group that tried to argue against the rights of the drivers.

Then James had died in 1993 before being able to step down, leading Aryton to take over as the Prime Beta the next week, only to follow after James in 1994. The pack had almost crumbled, and Niki had never quite gotten over either of them, just silently watching as a nervous Mika took over as the Prime at the next race.

Micheal had been his paddock pup, with Mika beside him, the two rather rambunctious and energetic about everything. Shiny-eyed and seeing the good in everything where Niki had been dulled by the deaths he’d witnessed, and the severance of his mating bond.

Marlene, luckily, cared about the pack just as fiercely as her former mate, staying in the Prime Omega position well after Niki had stepped down and let Micheal take the reigns.

And by then, there were omegas allowed to drive. It had been the 90s— it was finally seen as barbaric to prevent someone from driving based on their designation— and now it was nearly a decade into the 21st century! Yet it wouldn’t be until 2001 that a suitable candidate for Prime Omega really emerged.

Which was what was causing such a headache now.

Niki was in no mood to be here right now. But the FIA had insisted that this was the only time the pack situation could be amended and that Fernando could finally be appointed as the Prime Omega, with Marlene there to witness and step down to let him take over.

Two hours, just to change all that. Even with Niki, Mika, Micheal, and Marlene there to speed things up and get everything done. Two hours with a squirming four-year-old who did not like being stuck in a stuffy hallway in a brand-new city, who seemed very content to make it everyone’s problem.

You had been squealing and chirping angrily for the past hour, with no sign of stopping.

Apparently, having two Prime Betas not being present (regardless of the fact that both were very publicly not alive anymore) complicated things. At least the official had the decency to look ashamed when he asked Mika where Ayrton and James were, to give their consent on this change. Or perhaps it was the death stare that Niki was giving him, with you looking equally as confused from where you’d been standing behind his legs. Those same, piercing eyes looking at the official, who finally stuttered out the approval and finally let everything move forward.

It’s not as if Niki wanted to drag you along to all of this. You’d been perfectly content to stay curled up in the nest in Höf. However, Mathias had business to attend to, and Lukas was at the factory testing, some favor that had been called in by a friend when their driver hadn’t been able to. Marlene had to be in Paris for the meeting.

A true stroke of bad luck, but looking at his own burn scars and the tiny compression gloves that were made to fit you, Niki reasoned it could always be worse. Your eyes meet his, as though he’s looking in a mirror, before you whine to Marlene again, high-pitched and more frustrated than anxious.

You wanted to explore the new city! That’s what your Sisi had said you could do when all of this was over. He’d take you to get crepes and help you make the coziest nest possible in Micheal’s Paris apartment to watch Lilo & Stitch for the thousandth time with Marlene and himself.

It was a waiting game now.

Marlene was gently bouncing you in her arms, whispering to you to keep you entertained, and failing. Your little face was scrunched up in annoyance and you were puffing up your cheeks. Looking at your adoptive grand-dam with the biggest puppy-dog eyes, and failing to get what you wanted. Marlene was well-versed in your attempted bribery and ensured you weren’t too spoiled by Niki.

Your hair was growing back, now about three inches long from your scalp, and a shocking white color that rivaled even the oldest members of the grid.

“Likely from all the stress,” the doctor whispered, after telling Niki the news, one sunny April day after you’d been given a full body exam, to check the progress of your healing, and to examine the full extent of the damage to your scalp. “It’s not thinning, and seems healthy otherwise. It’s actually quite thick, so it’ll require constant grooming and maintenance when the pup is able to access her canine form. The scalp has been, by some miracle, untouched, so, thank God above for that,”

The doctor looked over her shoulder to you, where you were sitting on the bed, examining the scented rabbit that bore your dam’s scent. Watching as Lukas and Mathias made it dance and play with you on the bed. You reach for the rabbit, with little hands, wearing a compression glove and sleeve. It would be a week until you were discharged. And you were starting to adjust nicely to the new routine of your life.

And now your hair was being gently smoothed down to your head by Alonso, talking to you in Spanish while you looked up at him with wide, examining eyes, before wordlessly opening your arms for the Spanish omega to hold you with a little chirp. Making a little huffing noise from your nose as that was familiar to anyone who had been around pups.

You felt safe there. Even while Micheal, Mika, and now Fernando discussed the pack, with Marlene coaching the omega who would finally take over for her. You were curled against Fernando, eyes closed in content, purring. A little barret with blue and yellow in your hair to hold it out of your face that Nando seemed to have pulled from nowhere. Micheal scowls at the Renault merchandise. Likely already planning on dressing you in a head-to-toe outfit of Rosso Corsa the next time he’s visiting.

“She’s a Ferrari fan.”

“She’s a baby,” Nando sticks his tongue out, still every bit as immature as he was when he was first promoted to F1, but now seen as an equal to Micheal. “And she’s got im–im–im— oh, merde, what’s the English word?

“Impeccable,” Mika provides helpfully, the Finn simply happy to be there. Riding on the high of now officially having a new Prime Omega. “Being in accordance with the highest standards of propriety.”

“Thank you. She has impeccable fashion taste. It’s not my fault the color scheme is so much better.” Nando coos, and you make another little huffing noise.

The three current primes of the pack all freeze, before trying to play off how excited they are about your quiet happy noises. Especially Micheal, who has already lost control over some parts of his canine form, as though he’s a teenager again. His tail thumps against the wall, as Mika makes a happy crooning noise from the back of his throat. And Fernando preens, cooing to you. His instincts winning over. He’s beyond proud to be holding you, the youngest member of the pack, the sweet little pup that has been secretly snuck into so many different races, all to protect your identity.

Marlene turns back to Niki, silently mouthing ‘Are you seeing this?’ just as you make another happy huffing noise into Nando’s shoulder. Cue the mental happy dance that Niki knows he and Marlene both doing right now because you had only let your immediate pack and Micheal hold you. And you were now actively cuddling into Fernando’s shoulder— huffing! Like a pup!

When Max Mosley himself came to hand over the documents, even he cooed over how you’re now asleep against Fernando. Drooling on his shoulder with the mottled side of your jaw and cheek pressed into his formal wear. You’re an adorable little thing, snuggled into the Prime Omega’s embrace. You wake up the moment they leave the building, blinking slowly at the sun.

Marlene takes you then, laughing at the sleepy chirrups and whines you make at her, slurring between German and English as your Sisi rubs the sleep lines on your cheek. You squirm at their touch and clearly want to be let down. Your steps are wobbly, but you’re determined, taking several which steps away, as fast as you can on your warped leg. It drags slightly as you step, making it so you’re not as fast as you think.

“Oh, the littlest member of our pack,” Micheal coos, lifting you easily to sit on his shoulders, laughing at the angry squeal you make after being caught. You grip onto his more wolfish ears that have revealed themselves, as though you’re going to steer him into the direction you want him to go.

“Mick? Mick and Gina?” You lean over, to look at him, eyes wide and hopeful. “Here?”

“Auf Deutsch fragen, Mausi.” Micheal looks at you, grinning. Mika seems to scowl a bit, letting out a stream of Finnish that the German just pokes his tongue out at him, like a child. Fernando just laughs, snickering into his hand before you turn your eyes onto him again, making grabby hands for him.

And who is he to say no to you? Not when you look so sweet, with the little prescription sunglasses to protect your eyes on, and a sun hat tied under your chin. Both had been swiftly added to your wardrobe the moment everyone had left the building, pulled from Marlene’s purse while you squirmed. “Oh, bebeita, so precious, I will get you whatever you want,” Fernando coos, letting you down, but holding you by your hand so you can’t run off. Walking slowly beside you as you look around, eyes wide and amazed by the new city.

Final Day of Spring Testing, 2024. Sakhir, Bahrain

You’re leaning against the pit wall. Watching as all the final promotional pictures are taken of the drivers. All of them, standing in front of the cars, wearing serious expressions as they look into the cameras.

Testing had finished an hour ago. You were required to be there for a few promotional pictures, and an article that the New York Times wanted to publish about you— the first woman to become a race engineer, and now to move up to a high-tier team like McLaren. You found that a bit insulting to Williams, that no one had really looked into it when you’d first been promoted, but after everything that had happened there, you were a bit disgusted by the team.

Logan seems to shrink under the gaze of his team principal. You prickle, a protective instinct pushing into the back of your mind as you sink a bit lower. Oscar will handle it. That’s his courting partner after all, if anyone would fight to defend Logan, it would be Oscar. He’d raced against him since childhood. James turns, just enough to catch your gaze from where you’re leaning. He freezes, as if seeing some phantom, before turning on his heel and stalking into the Williams garage with an utterly furious look on his face.

Quietly, you head back into the garage. Your cheek twitches, aching. It almost seems like your skin, especially your scars, was prickling with all the tension in the air. Will had been quietly dismissed after handing in a written apology that was passed onto you by Andrea.

Before you do anything else, you breathe in. Letting yourself smell the air around you. Burnt rubber and fuel. There’s clanking around you as mechanics work on a few separate parts. There’s the sound of typing as you sit, going over data on the monitors. Flipping through a notebook and scrawling down a few, final notes.

Eggroll sits loyally at your feet, with her back to you, watching every single person who approaches. She’d been trained to react to his scent. To bay loudly and bark and to create such a racket that it would draw everyone’s attention to her and to see what was causing it.

But for now, she’s silent. Letting you work. Eyes trained on the track.

Chills run up the back of Lando’s neck and he shivers. He looks over to the pit wall, where you had previously been leaning and watching him, expecting to see you still there. He’s not quite sure why he feels disappointed that you’re not watching him anymore.

1 Week to 2024 Season Opening. Norris Residence, Monaco.

Lando’s not quite sure what to make of you. You’ve officially been his engineer for a month now. You were… polite enough. Maybe a bit cold. But polite enough. No-nonsense, and clearly, it was helping him, as much as he hated to admit it.

He says as much to Max, who cackles on the other side of the call. He can’t stop laughing, enough that he can almost imagine he’s still living in England, and they’re karting again. Having a sleepover, still pups, and arguing over FIFA matches.

“Piss off, man,” Lando sinks lower into his chair, arms folded over his chest. They’re just waiting for the lobby to fill so they can start another round. “You’re acting like she’s some miracle.”

“Mate, because she is,” Max says. Lando can hear the aggressive typing on his side. “Here, let me stream this quick, get out of the game. We can play more later.”

Max googled your name as Lando slumped into his chair. Recent articles all pop up, including the one you’d been getting photographed for on the last day of testing. Part of Lando also wants to google what exactly your relationship with Oscar was, but when he does, he only gets a picture of you walking beside Logan from last season, with Oscar trailing behind, not even fully in focus in the background.

A Wiki link gets dropped in their personal chat. And then a large PDF file a few seconds later.

“She has her own wiki page!”

“That’s not that cool,” Lando sulks, but he clicks on the link regardless. The current image of you is one taken from the press briefing when you’d first been introduced, with your braided hair and black turtleneck. You’re making a little scowl, and looking slightly to the side, as though you’re annoyed at something. Lando feels a bit smug when he sees his name linked under Driver’s Worked With. “I have a wiki page. I’m probably mentioned, like, a dozen times in hers!.”

“Yeah, but, you’re famous. You’re a driver, and a damn popular one at that. Race engineers don’t normally get that much attention.” Max chides.

That’s… a good point. Your page is… shockingly long, for someone a year younger than him. A quick scroll through makes Lando realize that there is still quite a bit he has yet to figure out about you.

“Why the fuck is it so long?” Lando mutters as he scrolls through the Early Life section, which inadvertently jump-scares him with a picture of toddler you, covered in shiny, pink burn scars and staring at the camera with wide, confused eyes. You’re in a little sun hat, and you’re holding onto Niki’s hand, while walking in the street. Your sire is glaring at the camera. A few other F1 drivers arc around you, notably, with Micheal Schumacher almost in front of you, as if to prevent you from being seen.

Stupidly, he briefly thinks about how weird genetics were to pass down Niki’s scars to you, before he smacks his forehead and realizes how impossible it is to inherit burn scars from your sire.

Oscar had mentioned you’d survived a house fire. But based on how you looked now…. Lando’d just assumed that you’d gotten lucky and not gotten badly burned. He’s more confused by the whole situation now and actually starts to read the article.

Lauda was born in North Carolina, to her mother, Magnolia Davis. Though Niki Lauda has refused to comment on any questions to how she was conceived or when, it is suspected that the former champion had a short-term affair in early 2001, based on her October birthday.

Not much is known about the first four years of her life, other than the fact that Davis had primary custody, and the two lived in Banner Elk until her Dam’s passing in March of 2005, due to a housefire that also left Lauda with chronic medical conditions. Official reports on the fire have blamed outdated electrical work for causing the fire, due to the age of the cabin that the two lived in. Niki Lauda took custody soon after, relocating the four-year-old Lauda to Austria.

That was surprising.

“She’s got medical conditions?” Lando tilts his head. Looking back at the picture of a toddler you. The wide, confused eyes, and the way the skin along the right side of your jaw seems… sticky, with an odd shine to it.

“You’re joking,” Max deadpans.

“No— she—” Lando stutters, oddly defensive. You’d never seemed to have issues, you looked, and acted (for the most part) normally! “—She never mentioned any!”

“Mate.” Max sounds almost disappointed. “She’s deaf in one ear. Legally blind, too, I’m pretty sure.

“Don’t give me the mom tone! And again, she didn’t mention any!”

“You do know she’s like,” Max pauses, and Lando just knows he’s scrolling through your wiki page even more, trying to find other things to hold over his head. “... a prominent disability rights advocate, right? Another medical condition, that bum leg of hers—”

“You didn’t know that before reading this.”

“I did not,” Max concedes, failing miserably at hiding his smug snickering. “But you should have!”

“Fuck off, I went on a phone cleanse for a month before coming back to work,” Lando mutters, sinking further into his chair, sulking like a child, and scrolling down further. Section titles like Education & Research, Disability Rights Work, and Personal Life all beckoned to him to read more.

“So…” Max trails off. “Wanna be nosy together?”

“Oh, absolutely.”

Lando spends the next three hours with Max, stalking all your social media posts, your admittedly impressive library of published articles of your research on how the aerodynamics and design of F1 cars could be used to create more fuel-efficient everyday cars, trains, and boats that could eventually help phase out the usage of fossil-fuels in cars altogether.

Your early life section is still bleak even after the two initial paragraphs.

It is unknown why the Davis pack did not take custody of Lauda after her Dam’s untimely passing. Leaked documents from the now-defunct Banner Elk hospital have revealed that the pack signed away their next-of-kin and pack rights, along with requesting a no-contact order to be upheld until Lauda reached legal age, or in the case that the then-pup died due to her injuries.

According to reports that were granted by a FOIA request, investigators at the scene of the fire were there to retrieve the bodies of Lauda and her Dam, when she was discovered under a metal bedframe near the remains of Davis a few feet away. Davis was buried in her pack’s grave plot in the Old Elk Valley Baptist Church Cemetery. It is unknown if Lauda has attempted contact with her Dam’s pack.

The public became aware of her existence when tabloids were given access to photos of Lauda spending time with her Sire’s pack during her stay in the hospital. The article published was titled “Die Ratte und das Mäuschen!” which resulted in her gaining the nickname “Das Maus” which has stuck with her since.

By all accounts, Lauda claims to have had an otherwise normal and happy childhood with her sire’s pack, and made her first official public appearance in August 2005, leaving the FIA Headquarters in Paris, with her Sire, Niki Lauda, and other members of the Formula 1 Pack after Fernando Alonso was appointed Prime Omega. She has said she was close with 7-time World Champion, Micheal Schumacher and was regularly seen spending time with his pups when in the paddock to accompany her Sire.

Not much else is known about Lauda’s early life, with the pack being very private.

Well, shit. No wonder you were a bit cold. You probably barely remembered your Dam, even without considering the traumatizing end she’d met. There aren’t any pictures provided of your Dam— Magnolia— and only a handful of pictures of you as a pup. None before the fire. He tries to imagine it. There’s only one of you with your little ears and tail out— one of your eas is more of a little patch of fur. You’re grinning up at a much younger Nico Rosberg, who has you tucked under his arm like some ball. There’s a blur where your tail would be, peeking out behind you, showing that you must have been overjoyed to be there with the German. Your grin is infectious as you look up at him. Little fangs jutting out over your bottom lip.

It’s actually quite adorable. With how fluffy your hair is and the little snaggle tooth hanging on your lower lip. He can almost hear the happy squealing noises from the picture.

Did you make those noises when you were with your Dam? Or were they reserved for when you lived in Austria, joining him at every possible race, bounding behind in your canine form, as a tiny puppy? Yapping and screeching behind him, while probably being followed by various Formula 1 legends intending to keep you behaving.

Which was. An amusing idea, to say the least. Picturing a younger Fernando Alonso, or Alain Prost running after you. Perhaps even a rookie Lewis, holding you by the scruff and padding towards the Ferrari garage in his canine form. The massive black wolf holding a tiny puppy.

You had been affiliated with Mercedes for while— that’s where you’d gained the majority of your experience— serving as a race engineer to the lower divisions. Also giving some of the most out-of-pocket comments to the younger drivers to encourage them forwards out of spite.

He’s so busy working on learning more about you— apparently, your favorite color is red, you’ve had three service dogs before Eggroll, and you have an irresistible love of mochi— that he doesn’t notice two different things he’s done.

One. Nowhere in the article does it mention your designation, which was still a very big mystery to him. Maybe his instincts had started to really calm down now, but Lando’s pretty sure you’re an Alpha. Maybe it’s projection. Maybe’s it the basics of genetics he remembers from his middle-school biology classes he took online. If your mother was a beta, there was a large chance you could be an Alpha. The chances for you being a beta were low, a 25% chance. He didn’t know all of the exact science behind it, but he knew it wasn’t looking good.

And two.

Lando and Max had, in their online stalking frenzy, found your various social media pages. And more importantly, Lando had stumbled across your LinkedIn page. While many didn’t know he had a LinkedIn, he did. It was a more private one, one his Sire encouraged him to make. But he still had one regardless and he occasionally would recall he had it and would update it, as he actually had just a few days ago, when his brother had been teasing him about it. He vaguely knew that people could see when he was on their page, but he didn’t really know much else.

He also didn’t know that he was still logged in.

At 12:27am, an hour behind Monaco, you get a notification on your phone while Oscar and Logan bicker about what late-night food is best to order at the moment.

Lando Norris and others have recently viewed your profile.

tags: @charlesgirl16@boo8008@the-holy-trinity-l@laura-naruto-fan1998@amalialeclerc@vellicora@st0rmzi3@poppyflower-22@hiireadstuff@seonghwaexile@mrsmelinda@actuallyazriel@noam-rosier-icr

#lando norris #lando norris x reader #lando norris imagine #lando norris fanfic #lando norris x you #ln4 x reader #ln4 imagine #formula 1 fanfic #f1 x you #f1 x reader #f1 fic #f1 imagine #f1 fanfic #formula 1 x y/n #formula 1 x reader

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lulufandom · 1 day ago

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The past: Macaque's Reaction

(this is about my Forgotten Wukong au! feel free to look at the masterpost linked at the end if you wanna know more!)

_______________

Liu Er Mihou was the first to notice something happened.

It’s been some years since his fight against Wukong, in which the Great Sage explained the best he could why he had to go through this pilgrimage and protect this monk. Mihou decided to give him one last chance and Wukong promised he will get home as soon as this Journey ended. Now Macaque is back on Flower Fruit Mountain hoping the King will keep his promise.

Macaque listens now and then in direction to the west, to know if the travel with the monk and the other pilgrims was almost done. The last time he listen what Wukong was up to, he was on his way to get his circlet removed by Guanyin after sealing the brotherhood in a scroll.

Finally! Wukong did kept his promise of getting back home after all of this was done! And about the brotherhood, well, Macaque wasn’t that sad about them. Sure they were friends, but not anymore, not after the fight against heaven and how they completely abandoned Wukong after it. Macaque still did try to find him and talked to him, even if the result was a smashed peach on the ground.

Mihou was still very conflicted about how to feel toward Wukong, they needed to have serious talk as soon as the King will be back on the mountain. But something wasn’t right, something was missing. Macaque couldn’t shake off this feeling of something missing, something big. Then he notice.

Wukong’s magic. He couldn’t feel it anymore.

Minutes ago he could feel it getting closer, feeling Wukong getting closer to Flower Fruit Mountain. But now, nothing. It vanished into thin air. And then he noticed the lack of sounds.

He could no longer hear Wukong's breath, or his heartbeat. Normally Macaque is able to hear it even if he is far away thanks to his six ears.

But now, there was only a deafening silence. He couldn’t understand, what just happened?

Not wanting to alarm the other demon monkeys on FFM, he continues to listen, to find any hints, anything to ease his mind and to tell him that all of this is a cruel joke.

His mind went blank. There was no way Wukong just disappeared like that. Yes, he still hasn't forgiven him for going with the pilgrims and how he abandoned him, but he never expected all of this.

_________

No more than an hour later, Nezha was at the foot of Flower Fruit Mountain,asking to see Macaque or any monkey in charge of Wukong's kingdom.

Macaque was pulled back from his spiraling of thought when he noticed Nezha's presence.

Using his shadow to teleport to him, he told him he better have a good reason why he's there.

Nezha told him about all the things the Jade Emperor said; how Wukong died from a powerful curse he got during his journey, that apparently one of the many demons he fought had a cursed weapon capable of slowly killing an immortal being . And now his staff became cursed and is protected by a powerful barrier.

“ …where is he?” Macaque ask. “I- I don’t know. They didn’t answer when I asked, only saying he got disposed of.” “What do you mean disposed of?! You’re telling me it’s only been an hour since he supposedly died and he’s already disposed of??!” Nezha sighed: “Look I know this sounds very bad, and I agree something is awry. That’s why I came here as soon as I could to tell you this. Apparently his body was emanating a cursed energy after dying so that’s why they acted quickly” “... this doesn’t make any sense.." macaque paused "and what do you mean by something is awry? I was sure you would agree to whatever Heaven decided to do”. “I am not completely blind to what they do. Not long before they announced this, I saw that a part of the celestial army left the palace in secret and they got back when the news was spread. Perhaps it is connected, perhaps it is not. But my intuition tells me something is just wrong.”

“...”

“I know we are not on good terms but I thought it would be correct to tell you all this. I need to go now , my condolence for your loss.”

Nezha left the mountain as quickly as he got there to go back to the celestial palace.

Macaque stayed in the same spot,paralysed, still processing all the informations. ________

The news spread like wildfire. And everyone was too scared to go near the mountain with the "cursed magic staff".

Time passed, and Mihou was still looking for Wukong whenever he could, while protecting and taking care of the kingdom left behind after the sudden departure of the King.

Au Masterpost

#forgotten wukong au #lmk au #lego monkie kid au #lego monkie kid #lmk #my art #fanart #lmk fanart #lmk macaque #lmk six eared macaque #lmk liu er mihou #six eared macaque

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bless-my-demons · 3 days ago

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Rain Soaked Confessions

Paul Lahote x Reader

Summary: You’re scared to death, but he isn’t. Just give in.

Warnings: smidge of angst if you squint, so much fucking fluff it’ll rot your teeth.

Notes: I wasn’t even going to put dialogue in this until I saw a TikTok of Robin Williams reading a love poem by Pablo Neruda (hint: it’s the beginning of the confession). It’s all reader’s POV and I’m fairly certain I managed to make it gender neutral again. God I love writing this man.

Word count: 1100

Masterlist

Cool Pacific rain pelts my skin, but I welcome it. I welcome the icey drops as they start to soak me down to the very marrow of my bones.

Eyes closed, face turned towards the sky, arms limp at my sides, breath tearing in and out of my lungs at a rate that brings a certain level of awareness to my body.

I long since stopped caring if the water pooling around my eyelids was from the sky or my tear ducts. It didn’t matter, none of it did.

My clothes were soaked, suctioned to my body - I could feel the heat of my skin leaking away, replaced with a coldness that began to border on painful. Goosebumps littered my skin the longer I stood here trying to cleanse myself of this… this pain in my chest.

This pain that threatens to cave my chest in, that steals my breath, that makes my heart soar and sink all the same. This pain that invades every inch of my brain, rotting me from within.

This pain that’s not actually pain.

Not really, because I know what it truly is.

It’s love.

Love that is damn near debilitating.

Breath continues to rip in and out past chapped lips that quiver from the weight of my thoughts. Thoughts of him.

A clap of thunder jolts me from my reverie with a gasp, my eyes snapping towards a figure standing at the edge of the forest watching me, quietly. Not just anyone, but him.

Paul.

We stare at each other, only 20 yards or so separating us. Still as statues, afraid to make the first move.

He’s just as soaked as I feel, the short black strands of his usually neat hair sticking to his forehead, water dripping down his beautiful face. Rain beating over his shoulders and down his uncovered chest. A chest heaving in time with mine, but the roar of the rain in the trees cover our combined exhales that I’m sure have to be deafening.

It’s like he’s a mirage, a figment of my imagination. This man has invaded every thought and now I’m afflicted with hallucinations of him too? As if this torture wasn’t enough? As if this crippling black hole in my chest wasn’t big enough? All-encompassing enough?

I rub at the tightness across my clavicle, every gulp of air I try to suck down not making a difference in the tightness of my throat.

The action draws his eyes, and his body too, apparently. His advance forward is slow and deliberate. Every step crumbling the ice I’ve tried to pack around my heart, these feelings.

I start to panic, no - I’m not ready.

I’m not ready to fall, not again.

I’ve never met a man worth holding my heart, trustworthy enough, gentle enough, kind enough.

Not until him.

My eyes slide shut as he takes the final steps to close the gap between us. I can feel the heat radiating from him just inches away and my panic increases, I have to hurry. I have to hurry and build this wall around my heart before he can-

A strong, burning finger tilts my chin upwards and it’s like sunlight kissing my skin, pouring in through the cracks in my hastily stacked armor. Warm, home, love, Paul.

My eyes creak open, afraid of what they might see in his own brown depths.

Endless devotion, eternity, serenity. That’s what they find. Unwavering love, solid and sure.

Oxygen ceases to make its way inside my chest, constricting painfully at the grip his intensity has over me.

He has to see how this is flaying me straight to the bone, how he’s dismantling every protection I’ve put in place to protect myself by just being.

My mouth opens but I can’t force words out, what’s there to say? I’m sorry, I can’t do this - it’s too much?

His eye contact doesn’t waiver, even as the rain pours over his cheek bones and drips straight down onto my own.

I can’t resist - my hands settle on his chest, to push him away or soak up more of his warmth, I don’t know.

Finally he moves, slowly dipping his head. My eyes slip shut, completely at his mercy. His lips brush feather-light at my temple, drifting to the other side in equal measure, heat refilling my skin as his mouth maps my face. Then down to the apple of my cheek, grazing my nose with reverence on his path across my face before his hand slides across my jaw to the nape of my neck.

I sink into him, resolve melting away as his heat pushes into me. A sigh leaves my lips as his mouth presses a barely-there kiss to the corner of my mouth.

My awareness narrows down to the way my lips tingle where his mouth just barely touches mine.

Time slows as I just wait.

One heartbeat. Then another.

Surely he’ll take pity on me? Please, oh god please.

“I love you”. His voice is deep. Sure. Confident. Soft.

Time must’ve stopped.

“I love you, without knowing how. Or when. Or from where.” The tremble begins in my legs. “I love you straightforwardly. Without complexities or pride.” My knees feel weak with every word his lips breathe across my mouth. “I love you, because I know no other way than this. I love you with every drum beat in my heart, as dictated by the ancestors. And I will love you even past the end of time. I’ll love you so proudly that I’ll see that it’s written in the history of my tribe-our tribe. I’ll love you so completely that you have no choice but to give me every little piece of your heart that you’ve squirreled away inside of yourself, afraid to bask in the sun, afraid of the love you know you deserve.”

His confession has more tears than rain sliding down my face.

My voice is a rugged gasp, “Paul.”

His lips seal over my own, as if to solidify this pledge of his love permanently.

His kiss is love. Pure love. And light. And home. And everything I hoped it’d be. Warm, gentle, understanding, yielding, kind.

His mouth is unhurried in its exploration of mine, curious in its mapping of my lips, patient and giving.

My hands surge into his wet hair, fingers sliding home as I press fully against him, mouth slotting against his in a desperate way. Two puzzle pieces, him and I, clicking flush together in a way words could only ever fail to describe.

Paul Lahote is my home. He is tender, he is light, he is love. He is exactly what I’ve been missing all this time, he is worth every single bit of pain I’ve ever felt in this life if it means leading to this.

To us.

#twilight fanfiction #paul lahote #paul lahote x reader #paul lahote x y/n #paul lahote x gn!reader #paul lahote x you #paul lahote fanfiction #paul lahote fluff

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muse-hodgepodge · 1 day ago

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Sans did hate how messy his room was but he never felt the need to clean it anymore. It would just get messy again once he fell asleep and had a nightmare anyway so what was the point. It would all just be thrown around again in his sleep. Hell, even Papyrus had a hard time getting him to clean it and that was saying something. He thinks that his brother had finally just given up trying to force Sans into managing the upkeep of their living space. It made him feel worse.

"You and me both..." He honestly didn't know how many more resets he could handle. This was the most 'hopeful' he'd felt in what felt like eons and it could fall apart so easily at the whim of a child. He didn't trust them to not reset should something happen. Sans is pulled from those musings when Reyna holds out her hand and he blinks before gaining a little chuckle, "heh that'd be appreciated. Didn't realize just how bone tired I am from it honestly." He takes up her offered hand and tries to force down his apparent exhaustion back behind his mask of his casual grin once more.

Reyna looked around the room. Wow, if this place didn't scream that a depressed man lived in it. She was gonna help him fix it all up later. 1st and foremost, though, was helping them get out of the underground and onto the surface for good this time.

"Of course. I'll be there to help you all out through this. I hope that after this, things continue going smoothly without any issues." She replies to Sans. She then holds her hand out. "Do you want me to teleport us this time? You've been using shortcuts a lot today, and I'd rather shoulder the burden when I can." She offers the skeleton.

#travelers of the multiverse #;ic #muse: sans

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ethicaltreatmentofcowplants · 2 days ago

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part i - warnings for moderate sims spice and censored nudity

Back on the farm, we have Lilac and Forest indulging in the highly EVIL pasttime of “does that look like a freezer bunny?” Baaad Boy is lingering like he wants to ask for advice on affairs of the heart.

Finally the prodigal Briar returns, clothed and very happy to have struck something off… her bucket list?

I don’t even have that pack 🧐

But oh no, Briar’s reign of delinquency does not end at birthday suited gallops through the countryside. She challenges Caden to a water balloon fight, and is not exactly the most gracious of winners.

When he’s finally managed a truce of some kind with Spencer? Caden must be wondering just which Watcher he angered to deserve this (it wasn’t me).

Lilac attempts to serenade Forest, only to have him walk out halfway through. I don’t entirely blame him - that animation takes forever and an eternity. They both got the happy pink moodlets from it, so apparently all was well.

As Spencer forfeited his turn at cooking yesterday, it’s a salad day for him. Just you try and set the kitchen on fire making this, I dare you…

A plague upon those self-cutting knives!

Victory, but at what cost?

As Spencer toils away over the salad (did we remember to give him the recipe?), the unlikely duo of Briar and Forest bond in the great outdoors. Keep an eye out for them later.

During dinner Giovanna appears perturbed by something, and the ever-considerate Caden locates the problem before Lilac and I do.

(LOL @mdshh, remember when we both thought he was going to be some kind of heartless corporate shark? More like a corporate squishmallow 😊)

Spencer for once jokes with Caden and not about him. It works!

Briar, I know that you’re a LAZY sim, but don’t peace out just yet. You haven’t had your mandated daily interaction with the bachelorette.

Meanwhile in the oft-forgot downstairs toilet, Forest is positively delighted with his dastardly scheme of… doing the dishes. Jacques Villareal and other do-bads watch out - we have a new public enemy! No stack of dirty crockery will be safe ever again.

And Briar does get a second wind, to flirt with… Forest!

Our last brain cell had gone for a run, so clearly this was somehow all Caden’s fault.

Just when I’m double checking the Watcher permissions and wondering if we’re about to get our second ever non-Lilac woohoo, Briar goes to bed for good.

Naturally the night does not end there. NOSY Sim Spencer, possibly seeking out a new target, offers Forest some unsolicited advice.

Unsolicited, and unappreciated.

But it isn’t long before he finds some other way to distract himself. Look Ma, we can do vanilla woohoo too!

Yeah I think we're well past that point by now...

And then a thing occurs which would have positively scandalised Agnes Crumplebottom.

Knitting? When the fine art of embroidery is an option? How gauche. And as a throuple, no less.

Caden’s just happy to survive with his purls, and his sanity, intact.

(rolls)

(romance table coming soon)

@jonquilyst @mdshh @riverofjazzsims @ravingsockmonkey @akitasimblr

#simply lilac #simply lilac round two #tw: gif #cw: gif #lilac moon #briar vinca by jonquilyst #caden de loughrey by mdshh #forest green by riverofjazzsims #giovanna goth by ravingsockmonkey #spencer west-harper by akitasimblr #let's go chaos household

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secretly-tword-obsessed · 3 days ago

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Team Against One

Hi gigglers!

This is the lee!Thanos fic requested by @alguien-001, which @letupabit said they were also excited to read (:

I hope it is enjoyed!!

Summary: Thanos is a pain in the ass. Luckily for Young-Il and his team, he is also a pain in the ass with a very peculiar weakness.

Warning: Mentions of Misogyny and THIS IS A TICKLE FIC!!!

"Jerk", Jung-Bae whined, punching Dae-Ho's shoulder in annoyance. He was referring to the player on the other side of the room, Thanos, who was currently lying on his back giggling, obviously high as a kite.

"Wer'e all terrified, we almost just died, and look at him - just lying there like a blissful idiot", Jung-Bae continued; clearly pissed that player 230 had the audacity to actually enjoy himself at a time like this.

"Oh come on" Dae-Ho chuckled, "Is someone jealous?"

Jung-Bae groaned, giving the younger marine a soft push, "Jealous my ass. He has no right to be striding around in here like that. Did you even see him in Mingle? The fuckface was dancing!"

"Well, I guess every party needs it's entertainment", Young-Il muttered sarcastically. The two marines, the frontman and player 456 were all sitting together in a circle in the bunk area, chatting about the games so far and complaining about how fucked up this situation was. Gi-Hun didn't do much complaining though - he just sat there brooding.

"Entertainment? Are you kidding? The guy's a pain in the ass", Jung-Bae retorted.

"Yo, what was that?"

All four men looked up. Shit, it was Thanos, gliding toward them from across the room. How the hell had he heard their little conversation?! Did his pills give him superhuman hearing or something?!

Jung-Bae stood up and crossed his arms, clearly about to confront the man. Gi-Hun grabbed his elbow warningly, but the shorter friend shook him off, finally so fed up with this combative nonsense that he thought he may as well partake in it himself.

"I said your a pain in the ass", Jung-Bae repeated.

Thanos raised an eyebrow menacingly. He crept up closer to Jung-Bae until they were almost face to face.

"You wanna knuckle sandwich man?"

"Heyyy", Young-Il interrupted, standing between them, "Stop it you too. Jesus, be mature. We're not preschoolers here".

Instead of letting off, Thanos just redirected his annoyance toward the disguised Frontman, shooting him a threateningly baffled - and clearly high - facial expression.

"Oh, lay off", Young-Il groaned, as if Thanos were a child and he were his parent, "Youv'e been picking fights in this place since the very beginning. It makes sense that Jung-Bae finds you annoying. Now, you lay off us, and we'll lay off you. Right?"

Thanos's eyes widened in anger, "How dare you fucking speak to me like that man". The purple-haired dude began making the motion of a punch, but, with his lightning reflexes, Young-Il just grabbed him by the wrists and, in a swift motion, had the man's arms pinned behind his back.

Thanos started shaking his head, "Bro, let me go man! The fuck!"

The other three men just watched the scene unfold, quite impressed with Young-Il's apparent victory.

"No Thanos", he responded in a calm, monotone voice, "If your going to act immaturely, we'll punish you immaturely. Isn't that right guys?"

The other three members of the team just looked at him. Young-Il had become a sort of de-facto leader, alongside player 456, but they still didn't know what he was up to.

Suddenly, a smirk grew on player 001's face. He turned to look at Gi-Hun, who was quite taken aback by the playfully sinister expression, having only been lamenting over his own doom for the past few hours.

"Hey", Young-Il said, directly to 456 "I heard a rumor that Thanos here might be a little....ticklish".

That was when the rapper in question let out an "Eep!"

Dae-Ho and Jung-Bae couldn't help but grin wickedly at him, now totally on top of Young-Il's plan. Gi-Hun, on the other hand - who Young-Il's comment had been directed to - didn't react at all. There was no time for such nonsense. Not in here.

"What was that Thanos?", Young-Il prompted, responding to the man's embarrassingly high-pitched outburst.

"I'm not THAT ticklish!", he snapped back, starting to wiggle a bit in an attempt to free his arms from player 001, to no avail.

"Not that ticklish?", Jung-Bae caught on, stepping a bit closer to the trapped man, "So, you are a bit ticklish at least, yeah?"

"I will fucking kill you bro", Thanos responded in a bit of an American accent.

"Hey, don't threaten him!", Young-Il snapped, poking Thanos sharply in the side. The man squealed.

That made Jung-Bae and Young-Il snicker.

"Hey Gi-Hun, wanna help us destroy this poor boy? Come on, you know you want tooo", Jung-Bae whined at his childhood buddy. But Gi-Hun just kept up his deadpan stare, not letting any of this silliness get to him.

Jung-Bae, a little disappointed, frowned. Young-Il, on the other hand, still had all of his attention focused on his captive.

"Okay, we can do this the easy way or the hard way. Promise to leave all of us alone and we'll let you go. Don't and...we might just test how ticklish you really are".

Thanos gulped, (it was a loud, exaggerated, cartoon gulp. As I mentioned before, he was high as anything).

"No need to test it man. I already know where I'm ticklish. My armpits are really bad, touch them and I'll fucking scream boy".

Young-Il raised an eyebrow at this. Jung-Bae chuckled at Thanos' absolute idiocy. Even Gi-Hun let out a surprised look. The only person who wasn't showing any satisfaction at the rapper's expense was...Dae Ho. He had kind of just curled up into a ball, blushing heavily, avoiding eye contact with the others at all costs.

Although Jung-Bae had noticed this, Young-Il clearly didn't. He had a task ahead of him under all. And, just like that, the ruthless Frontman dug into Thanos' underarms.

And, as he predicted, he screamed.

"NOHOHOHO!", he cried, now trying desperately to escape Young-Il's clutches.

"Oooo, telling us your worse spot wasn't a very smart move now, was it?", Young-Ill teased, only scratching his fingers harder.

Thanos scrunched up his face, shook his fists, through his head back and even started kicking out. The only reason that he wasn't falling over is that Jung-Bae, coming to 001's aid, kept him in a tight hold around the waist.

"NOHOHOHO!", their victim cried, his laughter becoming as high-pitched as he was high, "IHIHIHIT TIHIIHIHICKLES!"

Boy. High Thanos really was very different to sober Thanos. How many pills did that bastard take?

"Do your drugs make you more ticklish?", Young-Il asked simply, as if he wasn't wrecking Thanos to pieces.

"NOHOHO! WHYHYHY ARE YOU TIHIHICKLING ME?!"

"Aww, you don't remember", Jung-Bae teased, "How very unfortunate".

Now that Thanos was significantly weakened, Jung Bae took the opportunity to only hold him in place with one arm, using his other hand to relentlessly poke the rapper's sides.

Thanos screamed again, his face going red, his squirming increasing.

"HOHOHOW DIHIHID YOU KNOHOHOW I WAHAHAS TIHICKLISH?!"

Young-Il just snickered at that.

"Huh, Dae-Ho, how do you think we found out?", Jung-Bae prompted his younger buddy. But he got nothing in response.

The older marine, feeling legitimately concerned about his usually hyper buddy's lack of enthusiasm, gave Young-Il a nod, as if asking if he could leave Thanos to him. Young-Il nodded back in understanding, (and he hadn't stopped scribbling under Thanos's arms during this entire nonverbal interaction).

"Hey, what's up man?", Jung-Bae asked, sitting beside Dae Ho. The long haired boy just looked away, his cheeks still pink.

"Oh come on, you can talk to me", Jung-Bae assured, putting an arm on Dae-Ho's shoulder. Surprisingly, the man just shuddered him off.

"Oh, I'm sorry, is it the tickling that's getting to you?", Jung-Bae asked compassionately. This made Dae-Ho squirm a bit.

"I-just-I'm a little...." He trailed off. Damn this was embarassing.

"Yeah?", Jung-Bae asked, (and yes, Thanos was still screeching in the background as the Frontman attacked him without mercy).

"I'm a bit...sensitive when it comes to...you know. Like, I used to do this with my sisters all the time when I was younger, but than when I got older my dad would walk in and just like, shame me. Tell me to go outside and play sports. Said that I had to be a real man, that I shouldn't be giggling on the floor with my sisters like an idiot. That I should get into real fights, not just play fights. So now, like, I really wanna join in, but I just can't shake off the memories of dad...."

Jung-Bae rested an a hand on Dae-Ho's knee reassuringly.

"Hey, it's okay. You don't have to join in if you don't want to. But if you do want to, there's no shame. I mean, look at Young-Il. If he can indulge in this, anyone can".

The two men looked back to player 001, who was still destroying Thanos' underarms, and the purple head boy was in tears now.

"Hey!", Jung-Bae called to him, "Haven't you spent enough time on that spot? Surely he's ticklish in other places. Show him some mercy!"

Young-Il, still with that determined look on his face, stopped his fingers. Thanos started panting wildly, grabbing onto player 001's shoulders like a lifeline. Man, he really was out of his mind.

"If...you...ever tickle me again", Thanos huffed, "Your...dead..."

"Oh", Young-Il responded, "That's okay, I won't tickle you again".

Thanos looked a bit confused and, to be honest, Jung-Bae was a bit bumbed.

Young-Il than cracked that wicked smirk again, "But they might".

He gestured to Jung-Bae and Dae-Ho. The former smiled enthusiastically, but than remembered his conversation with the latter. He looked back at him, checking he was okay.

"Yeah...were' coming for you!", Dae-Ho said, sounding a little nervous but clearly committed to the task at hand. Which was teaming up with his new friend and tickling their rival to bits.

Jung-Bae smiled again, now for a different reason, proud of his friend.

"There we go...", he said, pacing up to Thanos, "Your no match for us".

Of course, Young-Il still had the rapper in a tight grip and, panicked, he squirmed to get away.

"That's not fair man! It's two against one!", he whined.

"Well", Jung-Bae responded, "It's not fair that you've' been pestering everyone around here since these games started. Someone needs to put you in your place".

Before Thanos could respond, Dae-Ho started kneeding at Thanos's sides, alternating between his fingers and knuckles in a precise technique that made his victim collapse.

"Nohoho!", he cried, bursting into a stream of cackles, lower pitched this time and more whiny.

Jung-Bae, proud at his friend for initiating, joined in by squishing at Thanos' tummy.

"Nohoho! Plehehease! Ihihim too ticklish!", he laughed. Dang, was he asking for this?

"Awww, look at him, he's too ticklish to handle this", Jung-Bae cooed, scratching around Thanos' bellybutton which made him squeal.

Dae-Ho had switched spots now, gently squeezing at his hips. The combination of Jung-Bae's teasing and Dae-Ho's accurate, experienced tickling was making Thanos absolutely die.

"Bohohohoys! I cahahant'!"

Jung-Bae smirked, "You can't what?"

Thanos srunched up his face again, and shook his head from side to side frantically, "I dohohon't knohohow!"

Dae-Ho smirked, his eyes alight with mischef. Mischeif he had missed so much from his childhood.

"Oh, you don't know?", Jung-Bae teased, relishing in the joy he got to share with his fellow marine. "Well, I know quite a bit. For example, I know that your an insufferable asshole who acts like their better than everyone else. And yet...you can't handle my fingers wiggling here..."

As he said 'here', he gently scribbled up to Thanos' armpits again, making him buckle over, going weak in the knees. Now it was Dae-Ho who was holding the rapper up, and spidering along his upper legs at the same time, poking and squishing around his knees and hips.

Thanos' laughter was high pitched and deep, frantic and light, a completely uncontrollable mixture as he withered in ticklish agony.

"NaHaHaHaHa!! PleheheaSe! Ihihi Cahahan't taHaHAHAHAKE IHIHIT!!"

"Okayokay, we'll stop, but just for now-", Dae-Ho teased, taking his hands back. Jung-Bae, a litle suprised at how quickly Dae-Ho let out, retracted his hands too.

"He was reaching his limit", Dae-Ho explained, as if Thanos wasn't right in between him and Jung-Bae, "I could always tell when that was happening with my sisters. It means it's time to let up".

Jung-Bae nodded slowly. This guy really knew his stuff when it came to tickling! It was kind of cute.

"His limit?"

Dae-Ho, Jung-Bae and Young-Il, (who had been watching the whole scene and staring at Thanos menacingly, basking in his misfortune), all turned around to the source of the voice.

It was Gi-Hun. His face was still dark and brooding, his features flat, but he'd said something. The player in question slowly stood up.

"Why should we care about his limits? He never cared about our limits, or those of any of the other players. We should be working together to survive this place, not getting high at other people's expense. Greedy, competitive hedonists like him are the whole reason we're here in the first place".

Damn.

There was silence for a few moments. That was very harsh, particularly for Gi-Hun. Way to go 456, slicing the bright, playful atmosphere with a knife. Gi-Hun quickly noticed the other player's disapproval, and his face dropped. His eyes widened sheepishly, and he bowed his head.

"I'm sorry player 230, forgive me, that was completely out of place, I don't know that came over me. This place is just making me....lose my senses".

Thanos didn't know what to say. He'd just been tickled half to death, and now he had been lectured and apologized to by this lunatic.

"Ermmm, it's okay man, I forgive you", he said, (that was probably the drugs talking).

Gi-Hun's face didn't lighten up a bit.

"Hey", Jung-Bae finally said, breaking the somber mood, "Do you think he's all recovered and ready for round two?"

Dae-Ho's cheeks went pink again. He was a bit jittery when it came to....this. Not just because of his bad experience with his dad, he'd just always been that way.

"Round two? Hell yeah I'm ready for round two!", Thanos said.

Jung-Bae and Dae-Ho laughed, even Young-Il's usually condescending chuckle came out as an authentic giggle at this.

"Really? Are you sure?" It was Gi-Hun. He approached the others, his expression still blank, except for a slight upward twitch of his lips.

"Yeah", Thanos challenged, "Give me all you got boyyyy"

Now Gi-Hun actually smiled. It was a very rare sight, which made his fellow players melt just a little bit. Good for him. Perhaps this playful atmosphere was just what he needed.

"If you say so", he said. And with that, he tackled Thanos over onto the bed behind him and climbed on top of him, stradling his waist.

Thanos looked up, pure panic in his eyes, "Boy, what the fuck are you doi-NOHO!!!"

Gi-Hun had shoved his hands under the rappers arms agressively, making him scream again at his worst spot being attacked.

"What was that?", Gi-Hun teased, speeding up his fingers. Thanos wiggled as much as he could, and threw his head back in hysterics.

Thanos, ever cocky, cried "IHIHIS THAHAHAT AHAHALL YOU GOHOHOT!"

Gi-Hun smirked, turning to his fellow players.

"What do you think guys? Is this all wev'e got".

And, in a flash, all four men were tickling poor Thanos to bits - like best friends on the school playground.

I hope this was enjoyed!!! Have a great day/night beautiful people!!

#squid game tickles #tickle community #tickle fic #sfw tickle community #ticklish!thanos #ler!gihun

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