#only if it actually benefits you though because you still come first even if he cant stand zl snd hes not dragging you into it

[mimipolo]

hey :) could you do a nam-gyu fic where thanos is flirting/put claim on the reader, but she clearly like nam-gyu more. just him dealing with his attraction for her, but still trying to be on thanos' good side

Nam-gyu x reader

I don't know if I did this right I had like five different ideas for how it could pan out so I hope this is alright

| ₊˚⊹ᰔ

You were content with the idea of completely ignoring Thanos, his odd claims and even weirder way of flirting. Sure, it was fairly entertaining but it wasn't something you planned to put up with for long.

That was until he walked up to your bunk with a friend in towe. A friend that immediately caught your eye.

"Ayy Senorita!" He draws out in his usual musical tone, behind him a man that looked uninterested, perhaps even annoyed to be there making you grin slightly.

"Aren't ya gonna come down." A whiney voice calls up to you, his face pulling into a frown as he crossed his arms.

"Dude, this a waste of time let's just go." He's still behind Thanos, a hand already on his shoulder, nudging him slightly, hoping to convince him to turn back, and as his gaze went from him to you he stops. The eye contact he made with you was so undeniable you actually looked at the rapper directly for once, startled by how your heart suddenly raced.

"I think I'll stay and eat up here...thanks though." Your refusal immediately has him grumbling as he dramatically pivots to walk away. But his friend hangs back a small moment longer, the brief acknowledgement held a value only you two could fathom.

"Come on Nam-su we outt." Thanos drawls lazily, his arms in his pockets as he swayed from side to side.

"Nam-gyu..." He sighs defeatedly, it was pretty clear this wasn't the first time and likely wouldn't be the last time he'd have to correct the rapper of his name.

Nam-gyu huh? You wouldn't like to admit it but you kept the name close to your mind, maybe he'd favour you for remembering it. Which was a weird thought to have for someone you hadn't actually properly met yet.

You hoped to though.

And he did too, when Thanos was insistent on getting you to eat with them he was almost instantly irritated. Why? What was the point of that? From the beginning he wasn't a fan of any distractions that could lead Thanos away from him, it was inconvenient and if he wanted to win he needed both their focus on that damn cash prize.

What he hadn't prepared for was the you. You who Thanos had miraculously spotted among all the bland people in this weird murder game. And he would never admit it, especially not to him that he understood why he was so hooked on you.

And with that came a jealousy. A deep, seething jealousy that came from nowhere. Now he was frustrated with himself, Thanos and you. And the worst of it all is him actually being just as bummed you didn't come down to eat with them.

| ₊˚⊹ᰔ

From then on there was this tense love triangle between the three of you which Thanos held no part in. You had no intention of making it clear to the man you weren't interested, first of all: it'd be too much of a hassle, and second because of his favour you've been able to survive games you probably wouldn't have. So you'd put up with him, no big deal.

The only thing, no, person making this harder was Nam-gyu. He was also seemingly smart enough to judge it's best to not make any big move as you were both benefitting from being close to Thanos. But it was painfully clear his attention was always on you, his eyes only snapping back alive at the mention of your name during the moments Thanos seems to talk forever. Having to tip toe around the unspoken attraction towards each other was fine by you, exhilarating even. But you're really starting to wonder if Thanos really can't notice when you and the longer haired man only glance between each other whenever he flirts with you.

Apparently the small amused smiles and prolonged eye contact wasn't enough for Nam-gyu. This could end badly if he was caught but he couldn't care less at this point, this whole time it's just felt like the two of you were saying a million things while saying nothing at all. And he'd actually be damned if he let Thanos hold him back from talking to you. He believed you felt the same, it's not just anyone that looks at him so fondly and sees him as an individual. You saw him like he was someone familiar and when he lies awake, he's convinced that's why he's so drawn to you.

Which is also why he's sneaking to see you during lights out. Was this a good idea?

Probably not.

But he'd already climbed past a snoring Avengers threat so he might as well see it through. He sucked in his breath harshly when he heard the familiar snoring pattern pause when he finally made it to the ground. His heart only relaxing when it fell back into rythmn. Not that he was too worried though, he had thousands of excuses on the tip of his tongue. A benefit that came with being a pathological liar.

He is oddly greatful that the majority of the people that were on your bunk had died, the only remaining players being two beds above yours. Meaning he didn't need to sweat about not waking anyone on his way up. As he begins climbing he draws to a question. What if you're not even awake? Even worse what if you are or he wakes you up and you think he's some weirdo. He physically shakes the thought away as he continues his ascent, he just needed to see you, then he'd go back.

It was odd being able to see you so up close, watching the way your chest rose and fell with each breath. Seeing you like this calmed him down and made him want to fall asleep himself.

He freezes when you shift and his hair brushes your nose, your face scrunching up as you waft away the unwanted texture with a groggy hand. Eyes squinting open to see a stunned Nam-gyu instead of a stray price of fluff from your pillow.

What, is he doing here?

You gasp sharply, immediately sitting up and accidentally banging your head against the bed above you in your rush. He's quietly shushing you as you hold your head in whine in pain. You only look back at him when the pain has slightly subsided, hissing one last time before tear pricked eyes meet his.

"The hell are you doing here?"

"Can't I come to see you?" You squint at his words, they pissed you off, obviously he could but you were literally sleeping?

"You came to watch me sleep?" You ask sarcastically, grinning knowingly as he groaned and rolled his eyes.

Seeing as you weren't entirely put off by his night visit he crawls onto your bed fully, catching you a bit off guard but you make no objection against it which makes him strangely glad.

"Thanos isn't any good, you shouldn't be with him." He says bitterly, when you don't say anything immediately after he looks away from you and runs his hair behind his ears.

"...And you're saying you are?" you say with the slight raise of your brow.

You were just fucking around you already liked him more from the moment you saw him. Long disobedient hair and an angular face and a surprisingly sharp tongue when provoked. Ticking most of your boxes, you just wanted to see how he'd respond.

"Nah... but I could be better, than him at least." He says with a small huff which makes you laugh slightly, and he immediately notes he's never heard it before.

"I'll see you to that." Your words make his heart seize up but in the way when he's won when he didn't expect to. The carefree act he had going was going to crumble if you kept being so casual with him.

It's only now he feels the tensity of the situation, sitting in your bed in an area mostly secluded. He was actually feeling nervous being around you without Thanos there as some barrier to the two of you. You're looking at him expectantly as if waiting for him to make some smart ass response but you're so pretty right now. Your eyes on him and him alone. He's keeping quiet because if he spoke as he was now... he couldn't promise he wouldn't immediately embarass himself.

Instead he looks between you and the wall, his eyes scanning your face each time before he looked away. Despite the chaos of feelings reeling from inside him his face was mostly unreadable. The only thing telling you anything was his jaw tightening and loosening, maybe chewing the inside of his cheek.

You tilt your head to see if he'd look at you if you were more in his line of view but he only locked eyes with you for a moment before looking up.

He was nervous?

The thought made your chest swell even though you knew he was probably just deep in thought. Either way your fighting back a smile as you take his face in your hands and place a soft kiss on his lips. It was honestly amazing how he came back to reality from the contact. Staring at you with wide confused eyes as if questioning why you would even do that.

And when you start to laugh to yourself quietly he's chuckling flustered beside you. His lips pursed tight to not let the grin on his face appear, but his feelings were clear in the new softness in his eyes.

Nodding lightly like he's fully savoured your presence he's manoeuvring himself to leave your bed, giving the underside of your knee a light squeeze before settling on the ladder.

"G'night..."

"Night Nam-gyu."

The first genuine smile of the night freely slips onto his face, making your own smile appear before he's making his descent back down. Grinning to himself like an idiot all the way back to his bed because he managed to get the girl Thanos saw first.

| ₊˚⊹ᰔ

Ever since then it's been this mutual joke between you two. You're holding back a snicker as Thanos serenades you because Nam-gyu's right behind him rolling his eyes and mocking him.

Nightly routines of him visiting your bed comforted you on those nights you couldn't will yourself to sleep. There's been more than one occasion he's stayed the night and forgot to go back to his bed and when questioned about where he was so early in the morning it's always "Needed to piss". He's glancing back at you accusingly as if you forced him to stay (you asked repeatedly very nicely.)

I love him sm I'm gonna cook him into a lasagna.

[lovesickeros]

zhongli and neuvillette fighting over their reader 🤭🤭

scary dog privilege wherever you go, draconic courting gestures that would scare any regular person, they send each other deadly glares the moment you turn away,

stealing your clothes to just get a whiff of your scent, marking their territory all over your house - making it a battlefield basically, neuvillette (in my hc) is cooler and zhongli is warm so the cuddles are always so comfy ☺️😍,

they give you anything you want - you don't even have to lift a finger, they make you travel between the nations a lot though 😒 sooo clingyyy, extra gentle in their dragon forms as to not squish you, don't even get me started on the size difference 😍😍

just a little thought 🤭☺️

- 🐈‍⬛

Neuvi being colder is so real and canon. I see him as being colder + a lot more lithe, kinda lanky with smaller but sharper canines versus Zhongli who's warmer and a bit shorter then Neuvi + bulkier with bigger but not as sharp canines.

They've also got very different habits – Zhongli is very prideful not just of himself but his nation. He'll personally give your a tour and purposely drag it out as long as he can. Complimenting Liyue is basically complimenting him, checkmate Neuvi. Especially if he convinces you to try on some local Liyue fashion. Harmless and just a nice gift to anyone else but Neuvi sees it for what it is (since your wearing something from Liyue, technically wearing something of his. He loves his technicalities when it comes to staking a claim over you). Adds salt to the wound by touching you in totally innocent ways like to adjust you towards something he wants to show you or accidently brushing against you when he takes the bags of spoils he's practically drowning you in but really he's just making sure his scent sticks. He's just a sweet, nice gentleman with absolutely no ulterior motives trust.

Neuvillette does love Fontaine, but his habits are more about himself then the nation. He'll take you around if you ask or if the idea strikes him, but you'll probably stay around the making city area or the opera house specifically. He enjoys more personal time with just you and him then anything else. He values the immaterial to the material. Zhongli spoils you with gifts, but Neuvi tries to offer quality time irregardless of physical gifts (though he still gives them just not to the extent of Zhongli). He'll take you to see different operas if that's to your fancy, or leverage a bit of his authority to maybe see a few films since those seem to be hitting off in Fontaine recently. Bet that creaky old archon doesn't have those huh. He feels awkward if you want to watch a trial, but he'll reluctantly agree because. well. it's you. just don't wave or anything he's trying to work and he just Really wants to see you smile at him like that again and it makes him lose his train of thought. gets custom clothes designed by Chiori to replace your clothes from Liyue because they smell of Zhongli and it makes him sulky + he likes to match.

G-d forbid these two are in the same room as you because it's a war of attrition at that point. Constant accidental brush of the hand against your shoulder or elbow but it's just them trying to get rid of the others scent. they are side eyeing each other behind your back while being all smiles whenever your looking. If it's hot and you lean into Neuvi more he's practically GLOWING. not even smug he's just absolutely smitten and happy to be of service. immediately takes off his gloves and presses his hands to your face asking if your okay and if you want to go back with him. if it's cold out and you seek out Zhongli more hes smug as hell beneath the calm veneer. Offers you his coat and stay as physically close to you as he can under the pretense of being worried you'll catch a cold if he doesn't warm you up.

don't even get me started on your house either because you probably have tons of gifts from both of them accumulated everywhere. if Neuvi sees you use a tea set from Zhongli suddenly he had a fantastic gift idea he thought you'd like. he even got some tea included with it so why don't you let him make you some? Zhongli sees you using a goblet Neuvi gave you (totally a coincidence it's similar to his) and suddenly you have 27 square cups in your cabinets that you have no idea where they came from. if the goblet is mysteriously missing oh well. who knows :]

[yourmidnightlover]

forever?

pairing: mob!bucky x reader

summary: after being forced into a marriage you didn’t want, you become very cautious of your new husband out of fear of what he’s capable of when one of his employees makes a move at a dinner meeting.

warnings: anxious reader, threat of domestic violence (reader is just worried abt it), groping, please let me know if i missed something or need to add anything!

a/n: reader is very timid in this. i know a lot of people like a reader who doesn’t take shit and stands up for herself, but i often find myself in situations where i just shut down and don’t know how to respond… so this is kinda inspired by that feeling

pt 2 -> control

two months out of forever.

two months of what seemed like wedded bliss from the outside.

in reality, that “bliss” included sleeping in separate rooms, never even seeing each other unless necessary to make appearances for either of your parents. 

the ones who arranged for this to happen in the first place. 

you were just glad you were able to have your time for yourself. you thought you would use the time to continue writing for your book, but you’ve hit a serious case of writers block. so lovely. 

on the bright side, he wasn’t as controlling as your few friends had made it seem he would be. 

they had painted this picture of a monster in your head. a man who would loom over your presence during every waking second. a man who was controlling and wouldn’t let you have a personal life or secrets.

so far, he’s been the opposite. 

for some reason, that still leaves you unsteady. 

because they also painted him in a very violent, angry, red light. 

but maybe he had a mistress. if that were the case, he truly didn’t respect you or your family. it didn’t seem like bucky to do that, though. he wouldn’t ruin a business deal that benefitted him so much. 

the reason you married him was because your father’s finance business was going under, drowned in debts while the only options were to sell to the barnes’ or the rumlow’s. the barnes’ seemed the lesser of two evils.

the only way to smoothly transition your father’s business to be under the barnes’ control without raising any question of your father’s capability was to marry. if any questions were asked about why your father sold his company, the not so good side of the finance industry would trample after your entire family. the barnes’ would get a new company and their many clients, while your family wouldn’t become entirely blacklisted by the entire country, would be putting your family under the barnes’ protection, and there would be less questions asked as to why the company had been merged.

you had a few months of “leaking” images of you and bucky together into the tabloids to prepare the public for the news of such a big marriage. some were photos of you and bucky holding hands while walking. a couple of you at a restaurant smiling. a few staged kissing photos… those may or may not have been your favorite.

those times spent with him, in all honesty, weren’t bad at all. going for walks together at sunset, dinner dates, feeling his lips against yours…

you had gotten to know more about his childhood that the tabloids didn’t feel was important to cover. his favorite subject in school and how he actually lost his arm so many years ago. you learned each others’ fears and worries in life. your favorite thing to learn about him, however, was what he truly wanted in life. 

peace.

a couple weeks after the wedding, a few photos of the reception were once again “leaked” in order to sell the “too in love to wait” bit that everyone had started assuming upon seeing the first few photos of you and bucky together. 

but all of your history with him flew to the back of your mind as bucky knocked on your office door. 

“come in,” you replied hesitantly, not sure what he wanted from you for the first time since your wedding. he stepped through the threshold and stood at the doorframe. 

“there’s a work meeting tomorrow,” his hand remained on the doorknob, so stiff you’d think he might rip it off the precious white wood in seconds. “the men are meeting at the house. i wanted to let you know. the men in this business, they expect marriages to be of the… traditional values.”

you nodded with understanding, turning to face him with a forced grin. “so i should play the part of the doting housewife, huh?” no smile in return, so you bit back your humor in turn for matching his serious tone. “what food should i prepare, then? and uh, how many guests will we be expecting?”

“whatever’s easiest for you,” he shrugged lightly. “there will be 9 of us there.” with one final look in your direction, he left the office and didn’t return to say goodnight. 

-

the next morning you got to work setting the house up for the 6pm meeting your loving husband was hosting. 

you had decided to set up a buffet-style table outside of the main dining room where the meeting would take place. for the menu, you settled on simple grilled chicken with quite a few side options. roast potatoes, asparagus, sauteed carrots, green beans, and rolls. 

you were putting the rolls in the oven when bucky got home, seemingly entranced by the smell of all the food, heading straight to the kitchen.

“it smells amazing in here,” bucky called from the archway of the kitchen. you jumped slightly from the surprise, but swallowed down the shock and another weak smile. 

“thanks,” you nodded to the edge of the island where a large chalkboard sat, your handwriting neatly displayed on the board that listed all the food to be had. “the menu. i figured a variety would be nice, and who doesn’t like chicken, right?”

“vegetarians,” if you didn’t know any better, you’d think he was telling a joke. but you knew better than that. “the men are coming in a little less than an hour. do you maybe want to change before they get here?”

you looked down at what you were wearing, a pair of blue jeans and a loose t-shirt clearly not worthy of someone who had married a barnes man. “right, of course. i’m sorry,” you finished setting the timer on the oven and ran upstairs to get yourself put together before bucky saw the tears trying to seep past your waterline. 

you settled on a black cocktail dress you had worn to one of your dad’s company events before the downfall… quickly swiping some makeup on to cover the exhaustion in your eyes and pulling your hair up to a more respectable updo rather than your typical messy bun. 

luckily you had become an expert at quickly getting ready from your time in university, as you were back in time to pull the rolls from the oven, but not before pulling on your apron. you’d be dammed if you got this stunning dress dirty right before this prestigious meeting. 

t-5 minutes before the meeting was supposed to begin and you could already hear lots of rustling from the formal dining room. you knocked on the closed doors before bucky opened the door for you. 

the men went silent as their gaze rested on you in the doorway. 

“the foods ready. buffet style?” your eyes didn’t leave bucky’s pretty blues, too scared to do anything wrong in front of his men. 

“that’s perfect, my love,” his hands gravitated to your waist before pulling your body taut against his, one hand moving a stray hair behind your ear before leaning in to whisper. “you look ravishing…”

as he pulled back, you were sure your blush was evident across your cheeks. you tried to hide it behind a smile, shrugging with a shy ‘thanks’ leaving your lips. 

“what do you say to my stunning wife, boys?” his hand squeezed your waist once more before turning to the other men, ‘thank you’s being echoed throughout the room as they stood and made their way to the kitchen to make their plates. 

in a matter of minutes, all the food was gone. you figured it was best they liked the food, even if you didn’t get to try any of it yourself like you had planned. 

you got started on cleaning everything up with earbuds in your ears, starting with the dishes already in the sink from when you were cooking. then, you were sure to place the dishes that the food was in inside the sink for you to clean before starting on wiping the counters, then sweeping, then mopping, and then back to the dishes. 

you didn’t realize that bucky had called for a break in the meeting, however. you were in for quite the rude awakening when you felt a pair of hands on your waist, but not the ones you were semi-familiar with. 

you turned around with a gasp, shock evident on your face as you tried to piece together whoever this man was. blond hair, blue eyes… definitely not steve though. you knew steve well and had seen him often. 

you pulled your earbuds from your ears in attempt to better understand what was going on. his hands were still gripping your sides, but you couldn’t necessarily escape his touch. you were backed against the sink. even if you could fight him, you’d likely lose to his strong grip. 

“is the meeting-is it over already?” your voice was so much more cowardly than you’d ever expected yourself to be. 

“no, no,” he shook his head. “just a little break, some of the guys were getting antsy.” you leaned back further, trying to create some semblance of space between you. “i figured i’d say a special thank you, on behalf of all of us guys in there.” he let one hand cup the side of your face and neck, his other hand trailing down from your waist, firmly grasping your ass with a sqeeze before you jumped at the invasion.

“i don’t-i’ve got it…”

“john,” he smiled grossly, as if he could convince you to go to bed with him.

“no need for a thanks,” you tried to remind him. “i did this for bucky. for my husband.” your eyebrows rose, trying to emphasize that his boss was also your husband. 

“i’m sure he won’t mind you getting a little bit of extra special attention, don’t you?”

then, a growling voice cut through the fear running through your veins. 

“i think he might mind.”

you turned to face bucky with wide eyes before facing john, wishing the tears welling in your eyes would just go away. 

his hands slowly retracted, stepping back with a chuckle.

“sorry, sir,” he smiled before turning to face your husband. “she was just telling me how she wanted some extra attention, weren’t you, toots?” he tilted his head expectantly.

your mouth opened, nothing leaving in spite of your brain screaming at you. what would bucky do? would he take his side? would he believe you? would he hurt you? 

you’ve embarrassed him now… humiliated him in his own home. surely he’ll take action against you for this. 

your mind replayed stories your old friends had told you about him. how he would lash out at men that betrayed him. how he never took shit from anyone who showed him any disrespect. how he was the kind of man to shoot first and ask quesitons later.

and now, in a way, you’ve both betrayed and disrespected him. or at least, that’s what he’ll think. 

you didn’t even realize tears were flowing down your face until your sobs were interrupted. 

“enough!” you finally looked at bucky before his eyes softened for a second before walking closer to you. “go to the room.” he ordered sternly. 

“but the dish-”

“i’ll take care of it,” he interrupted gravely, “go. to. the. room.” 

“yes, sir,” you nodded and swiftly left the room entirely, collapsing against the door once you had shut it, sobs wracking your body. you held your knees against your chest before trying to regulate your breathing.

he won’t hurt you.

he has to protect his image.

you’ve embarrassed him.

you’re his wife.

you’re his business deal.

you’ve humiliated him.

he’ll hurt you.

you didn’t know how long it had been since the incident. 

your sobs had subsided. you had, at some point, moved to your bed. you were still rocking your body back and forth, trying to self sooth. 

and then there was a knock at the door. 

your body instinctively jumped at the sudden noise, although it wasn’t harsh in any manner, at least not one that you were expecting. 

he twisted the knob, slowly opening the door with slow movements. 

“i-i’m so sorry,” you began apologizing as soon as he stepped through the threshold into your room. “i swear-i swear i didn’t tell him that. i didn’t even realize he was there, i promise. i wouldn’t lie to you. i’m so sorry, i’m so sorry. please believe me.” your body was still rocking and you didn’t even notice he was as close to you as he was until you saw his hand moving by your head.

automatically, you assumed the absolute worst, your head ducking into your body like a fucking turtle, the meekest squeal leaving your lips mixed with a sob. your arms went over your head protectively, as if a bomb were about to go off.

“sweetheart,” his voice sounded so broken, so torn, so unexpectedly soft. 

you finally looked at him for the first time since he came in your room. his flesh hand was holding his metal one as if it were something that could kill. in ways, it was. 

“you-there’s no need to…” after looking at him for a second longer, you noticed that his eyes had tears that almost mirrored your own. “i would never, ever lay a hand on you. i’m so sorry for scaring you. i can’t…” he sighed. “i can’t believe i made you believe i’d ever hurt you.”

“i’m sorry,” you pleaded with him once again. 

“you have nothing to apologize for,” he hesitated to reach for your hands before settling on simply grabbing a spare pillow. “i came up here to apologize. for my tone earlier… i know john. he never knows his boundaries. i should’ve… you never should’ve been put in that situation. that’s my fault. that’s on me. and i will spend the rest of forever to make it up to you.” 

“you don’t have to-”

“no, my love,” he shook his head. “can i-can i hold your hands? please?” you, without hesitation, grabbed his hands yourself. “i need to make it up to you. you’re mine. you’re my wife. it’s my job to protect you, to keep you safe. and to have someone ruin that? to touch what’s mine in my own home? i’m so sorry.” he brought your hands to his lips, pressing at least ten kisses to each hand. he was so gentle and careful it was a good thing you knew better than to think it actually meant anything.

you were surprised, to say the least, at how tender he was being with you. 

how could you have ever thought he would hurt you? that he would raise his hand and swing? that he would cause you harm? he was here declaring that he would make up this incident for the rest of eternity when it wasn’t even his doing… 

“will you stay with me tonight?” his eyes lit up at the request.

“are you sure you want that?” he became a touch more reserved. “i don’t know if it’s a good idea since you were worried i would…” his voice trailed off.

“i’m sure,” you nodded before scooting over in the bed. 

sure, your marriage was arranged and didn’t stem from true love. you may not have talked outside of when absolutely necessary. you might have even been terrified of him at one point. 

but now, the thought of forever with bucky barnes didn’t seem half bad. 

[tadc-harlequin-au]

New Puppet Unlocked: Pomni, the Last Harlequin!

Pomni's character description:

I actually finished this about three days ago, but I didn't wanna post it because I haven't started on the others yet. I eventually decided that fuck it, we ball.

Pomni is the most recent and last model of a Combat Harlequin; P-1210. She doesn't have any remembrance of her life before becoming a Puppet, only the fact that she has an itch in her head that tells her to keep fighting.

After hunting down The Puppetmaster and a duel ensues between the two, it ends with the Harlequin and The Puppetmaster forming an alliance in order to fix the destroyed City.

Now, Pomni spends her time sparring, sharpening her sword, bantering with the Puppetmaster, hunting down bosses and eliminating manic Marionettes.

Fun facts about Pomni:

She likes sandwiches. Specifically, salmon.

She REALLY hates it when someone eats it. (It's Bubble)

She finds some things annoying in other Puppets, and will be blunt about it.

But that doesn't mean she doesn't care. In fact, far from it.

Pomni may come off as cold and jerkish due to her hot-temper, but in reality, her emotions simply have ahold on her more than anyone would ever really think.

Caine thinks that a therapist would benefit her. (honestly though)

She hasn't explored any hobbies outside from anything involving combat.

Pomni occasionally gets glimpses of visions when she dies; she is unaware of what they mean.

Pomni rarely gets drunk; she'll only indulge in alcohol when there's an occasion. Aside from that, she tends to limit Caine's alcohol intake (reasoning that he smells like booze), much to the Puppetmaster's dismay.

She shuts down any form of philosophical advices, thinking they're "typical" and "unnecessary".

She tends to be careless and rude in battle.

When push comes to shove, Pomni can and WILL use her sharp teeth to her advantage.

Pomni initially disliked Ragatha. She found the doll's positive demeanor eerie, and even uncanny, borderline inhuman. Thankfully, a few interactions and heart-heart conversations later, she's changed her mind since.

Bubble usually accompanies her when she's out on missions, a condition she had to agree on just so Caine would let her fight overburdened Puppets. Even though she hates the blimp's nonsense, she knows that his presence is out of necessity, since Bubble is the only way keeping in touch can be possible.

She rarely ever apologizes.

She once stole Caine's cane to try and figure out how his attacks work. She immediately lost interest once she found out it's just a plain, and boring metal cane.

She unlocks the first stage of enlightenment after the first boss.

Battle quotes:

"Yeah, yeah, shut up."

"I didn't come here just for you to act like a wuss!"

"You. Me. This sword. In your head."

"That was pretty stupid of you to do."

"Between you and me, I prefer still having my head on my shoulders."

"This is getting annoying!"

"I've had it with you idiots!"

"I'm gonna celebrate with a Puppet head kebab once I'm done."

"I like the sounds of a sword slashing, and heads bashed in."

"Keep (talking/screaming), and I'll crack your skull open."

Hurt in battle:

"Ah! What the fuck!"

"You're gonna pay for that!"

"Eye for an eye, motherfucker!"

"I normally wouldn't mind... Actually, I always mind."

"When I'm done, you're gonna be unrecognizable."

"Fucking marionettes!"

"Useless scrap!"

"I really, really, REALLY wanna hurt you right about now."

"Ohohoho, you're picking the WRONG fight, BUDDY."

"Asshat!"

"Who do you think you are!?"

Dying:

"This... wasn't supposed to go this way..."

"God.... dammit."

"Agh... fuck."

"That... fucking... hurt."

"I still...! Got fight...! Left in me..."

"This... isn't... over..."

"I'm... not... done..."

[lovemybluebully]

A Small Lapse of Judgement

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

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

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

"Deadpool and Wolverine"-verse

M/M Tickle Fic

Word Count: 4,372

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"The fuck you looking at?"

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

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

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

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

"You'd better fuckin' not."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Almost burned down the apartment."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The older woman's lips pursed with disdain.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Still he had to strike back somehow for this indignity.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[silkscream]

once bitten, twice shy

megumi fushiguro x reader

ੈ✩ wc: 3.1k (i cannot write anything under 2k to save my life)

ੈ✩ tags: emotionally constipated megumi, tsundere basically, friends to lovers, a lil angst, not actually unrequited love, pining, alcohol, typical yuuji nobara antics

ੈ✩ a/n: this is not xmas themed despite the title BUT it does end up taking place on satoru's birthday for plot reasons. megumi fushiguro your intimacy issues bewitch me mind body and soul.....

megumi does not know what to do with his feelings.

he’s never been the type to be particularly in touch with them — he didn’t remember his parents enough to blame them for whatever avoidant attachment he’d accustomed himself to. or maybe, that was the exact cause of said attachment style. gojo taking him in when he was a child didn’t help either — the man also refused to be very vulnerable around him, merely acting as a benefactor and a nuisance at best.

and while he was closest to tsumiki, he’d still built up a wall around himself that she couldn’t get through, and she knew it. she couldn’t break through it in his pre-teen years, and certainly not his teenage years when he was taking out his aggression on his classmates. he would ignore her soothing words and resent her kindness. perhaps he’d taken after toji in that way. constantly fending for himself for the sake of survival. always convinced that he was doomed to be alone.

and then there was you.

he’d met you first at jujutsu tech before any of the other students could. after sparring with maki, he’d been dismissed to shoko’s office. he’d opened the door that september day and was immediately met with your wide eyes, your searing cursed energy. gojo had found another stray.

shoko had made him your first experiment and you excelled. his injuries were healed within minutes. if anything, he felt better than he had in months — after battling insomnia and panic attacks, he felt… calm. like his brain was cleansed and that he had nothing to stress about. (until the next time gojo had gotten on his nerves.)

your introduction to his class was nothing extravagant despite gojo’s theatrics. megumi couldn’t help but keep his eyes on you after that — during practice battles, lectures, or lunch. he was always hyperaware of your presence. he blamed it on your cursed energy.

he hates how enthusiastic yuuji is about you, how yuuji tells him about how he manages to get you alone even though you often keep to yourself, and how he thinks you’re so fucking pretty, and that you’d agreed to watch the human earthworm movies with him. (megumi had refused when yuuji asked.)

he stews in that anger quietly because he’d rather die than let anyone know. nobara knows better, of course. she teases him about it and brings up jealousy.

why should megumi ever be jealous of yuuji? the boy was a freak accident in human form, with no inherent technique. who fucking cares that he can make you laugh without any effort?

it doesn’t matter. it doesn’t. because you have no direct effect on megumi and you don’t distract him during school. he doesn’t cling onto the memory of your hands on his skin. he doesn’t wish for the feeling again. of course not.

he tells this to yuuji and nobara, too. there’s one day where nobara goes too far — she teases him about setting up a date, that you rave about him, that he’s definitely your type. megumi doesn’t believe a word of it, especially because you’re probably more comfortable with yuuji. he doesn’t care to date because it would hold him back. he’s too focused on his training, on being the best, because he’s determined to follow in gojo’s shadow even if he won’t admit it. he could be the second strongest. he could be the most reliable.

it comes out in all the wrong ways. he’s more irritable than usual, so he yells at nobara instead of seething in hushed tones. he rants about how he does’t need someone by his side, certainly not you, whose only benefit is to heal superficial injuries and not much else. how your combat skills are poor, how easily you get beat when you spar on the field. how compared to him, you’re weak, so you’re of no use.

unfortunately, you hear him. every thought on his mind that tumbles out of his stupid mouth, his tone spewing wrath. you know that megumi is a moody person, but you’d never think him to be mean.

you pretend you’re just passing by, but from the faces nobara and yuuji are making, megumi already senses your presence. the color drains from his face, cobalt eyes wide.

“i’m — i’m sorry, i didn’t mean —“

“it’s okay, fushiguro,” you say softly. even after that shitshow, you’re still fucking smiling. it puts a sinking feeling in megumi’s stomach.

“ah, i got an extra pack of mochi and thought you guys would like it.”

you hand over a small bag and megumi takes it wordlessly.

“that’s so sweet,” yuuji beams, attempting to deflect. “hey, i was just looking for you. do you happen to have those jujutsu history notes? kugisaki spilled a soda on mine.”

“you knocked it over!” nobara protests.

“you put it on top of my stuff!”

you take your notebook out of your bag and hand it to yuuji graciously, avoiding megumi’s gaze and making up an excuse to see all of them later.

apparently, “later” means a week after. megumi sees you in class, and while he attempts to walk you to the dining hall or invite you to hang out, you bolt out the door before catching anyone’s attention. he has to find out how you are from fucking yuuji, who somehow gets to see you around the dorms every other day.

“i think she just likes to keep to herself, s’all,” yuuji says. he can sense megumi’s anxiety just from being in the same room as him.

“but you see her all the time.”

“she’s been tutoring me a little. and we just like the same movies and stuff.”

yuuji shrugs casually. his nonchalance makes megumi’s blood boil, because of course he’s the one who gets to occupy all of your time. of course you’re probably most comfortable with him. he knows he shouldn’t be seething at the thought of you two together — it isn’t his right. but his jealousy is starting to get the best of him lately.

“are you guys together?” he blurts out.

“no?” yuuji furrows his brows. “if anything, i feel like nobara might be trying to make a move since she’s way nicer to her than she is to us. except i’m pretty sure she and maki have been going out lately.”

“maki?”

“dude, keep up!”

and when yuuji accuses of megumi having a crush again, the same way nobara did all those weeks ago before he made a fucking fool of himself, megumi shuts it down with a grimace and a blush. he’s merely concerned about your wellbeing is what it is. that’s what he’s able to muster up to yuuji, of course, who absolutely isn’t buying it based on his shit-eating grin.

it’s annoying, especially because yuuji can make you feel more comfortable, comfortable enough to hang with the whole trio, and the pink-haired bastard has to meddle like a little troll. bumping the two of you into each other like you’re in middle school. somehow, it worsens everything. not your dynamic, but megumi’s self-consciousness.

he was already so extremely aware of you, but now he’s convinced that some angel above has tied the red string between you both extra tight. megumi looks for you in every crowd, awaits your arrival every day in the classroom and at lunch, and it’s starting to feel pathetic — the lightness in his chest whenever you’re even so much as ten feet away. his heart even beats faster at the anticipation of your text in the group chat, for fuck’s sake.

and then there’s gojo’s birthday party, a surprise orchestrated by the four of you, despite megumi’s reluctance. you’re particularly more radiant than usual. maybe it’s the lighting. maybe it’s the dress you have on.

despite the amount of shots he’s been forced to take in the past hour (three), megumi is still sober enough to feel anxious around you. though, he thinks he might be drunk enough to be lost in your image, fixating on your collarbone and the way your hair falls in your face as you laugh at one of gojo’s stupid jokes. it’s when the two of you lock eyes that megumi feels out of it, because you smile at him. you fucking smile.

if the warmth of the liquor wasn’t currently raising heated blood to his head, he’d deny the sparks that came from the mere sight of your smile, but he was hopeless. you’re mesmerizing. dizzying. he doesn’t know what to do with his face, not when his cheeks are flushing red and his motor skills are slowing down. fuck, maybe he was a lightweight like gojo after all.

he’s clearly out of touch with reality, because the moment fades as soon as it comes. perhaps it wasn’t a moment at all. he watches you tuck a strand of hair behind your ear, your mouth moving slowly as you mingle with other classmates. he’s fucking fixated on your mouth — your lipstick tonight is a blush red with a shiny gloss reflecting light. megumi has only dreamed of what your lips would taste like once or twice. no more than that. he swears on it.

there’s brief eye contact between the two of you again for half a second. there’s a coy smile on your face as always before you slip out the back door of the house.

there are so many bottles around the place that no one will notice megumi taking an entire bottle of champagne for himself. he scowls at the taste, of sickeningly sweet pears — courtesy of gojo, probably. his head swims and thinks of you.

his momentary peace is rudely interrupted by the sound of nobara’s voice in his ear, asking for you.

“ijichi’s setting up karaoke!”

“there is no way in hell that i’m—”

“i don’t care what you do, emo, but i need her to do a duet!”

megumi heaves a sigh, making his way to the backyard where he finds you sitting on a tree stump. even with the dim fairy lights, he probably would’ve missed you if not for the cherried end of your cigarette.

“fushiguro-kun,” you nod at him.

“megumi,” he rasps. “just… megumi is fine.”

“oh, i get special privileges now? how come?”

there’s no mirth in your tone. you’re teasing him. he doesn’t answer your question.

(the mere act of you teasing him becomes an intimacy in itself — he had never thought that you would be comfortable enough to talk to him in jest. you’d maintained your distance from him fairly well.)

“didn’t know you smoked.”

“only when i drink,” you shrug. “ieiri-san doesn’t make much of an effort to hide her cigarettes, either. don’t tell on me, though.”

“wouldn’t dream of it.”

he doesn’t know where to look. luckily, you’re not looking at him, so he can settle his gaze on your mouth nursing the cigarette. plump. glossy under the moonlight.

megumi is not used to wanting. he had never asked gojo for anything during his adolescence, and refused any gesture of kindness from anyone. he was convinced since childhood that there was no point in desire because disappointment would be on the other end of it either way.

he’d like to be a monk about it. he could control himself and focus on his studies. never spare you a glance again that isn’t platonic. and then a cool december wind blows past the two of you, and he smells your amber perfume.

and when he turns his head, you’re looking at him, eyes bright.

“so… not enjoying the party?”

“i’m not really one for parties.”

“me neither,” you shrug. “that’s why i like to do my little ritual of escaping.”

“we have that in common.”

you hum, a noncommittal noise. you take another drag of your cigarette, which disintegrates slowly.

“what a pair, the two of us.”

megumi can’t pick up any sarcasm from your voice, though he assumes it. it makes his stomach drop even though the statement is harmless. the two of you. together. it makes endless futures bloom in his mind. maybe it’s the prosecco, but it almost makes him want to vomit. to think that he was even good enough to be beside you in your future.

you curse quietly when you pull your phone out of your jacket pocket to check the time, realizing it’s dead. megumi gives you a once-over. the jacket you’re wearing is all too familiar. like him, you’re not one to wear very many colors. but this jacket is bright red, varsity style, and oversized on you.

“is that itadori’s jacket?” megumi stammers.

“oh, yeah. i didn’t realize how cold it would be tonight.”

“oh.”

“why?” you give him a curious smile.

“nothing,” he coughs. “are… you two…”

you laugh and it’s like a song to him.

“i think he might be my best friend, s’all. why? you jealous?”

he looks at you again, head-on, your eyes still bright. brighter than fluorescents. there’s something in your irises that is meant to provoke him, but he’s dispensed of his usual cautious nature after he takes another gulp from the bottle.

“more than you can imagine,” he huffs.

“sorry?”

“’m not repeating that.”

“what, you’re not saying you’re like, into me, are you?” you exasperate.

megumi remains silent, cheeks flushed. he thinks that if his head could heat up any more, he’d end up with a migraine.

you breathe the tiniest gasp. if it wasn’t for how close megumi was to you, he wouldn’t have noticed.

“i kind of thought you hated me, you know,” you admit.

“i could never hate you. i don’t think anyone could.”

“you don’t have to pretend,” you sigh. he didn’t notice until now that your cigarette was finished, discarded onto the dirt with your boot to crush it into ash. “i— beyond the politeness, i get it. that i’m not your type or whatever. you don’t even have to be friends with me, fushiguro-kun.”

“megumi,” he emphasizes.

“megumi.”

“i’m not pretending. i… i really fucking like you,” he slurs. “it kind of scares me how much.”

“you’re drunk.”

“i am. i know you heard me say all that shit to kugisaki and itadori, but it’s because they put me on the spot and i was nervous. i don’t know how to… deal with feelings. honestly, if i wasn’t even a little drunk right now, i’d probably have left the party with my tail in between my legs and avoided you for the next fucking week, and you don’t deserve that. you deserve… everything.”

“even you?”

when did you get so close to him? if he sauntered just a few inches in your direction, he could touch your noses together. he can smell your perfume so deeply.

“it’s the other way around,” megumi breathes. “i don’t deserve you. not anything close to you.”

“what if i want you regardless?” your voice is just above a whisper. a prayer, a hymn. a wish to be blown out.

megumi swallows the lump in his throat. he blinks at you, dark indigo luminescent. the world slows down. he may owe it to the liquor and the wine, but he assumes it’s just your presence. your scent, the softness of your hair in between his fingers, your soft breaths.

“what do you want, megumi-kun?”

he remembers something gojo said. that to be a jujutsu sorcerer, he has to be selfish. he’s not sure if that philosophy applies to the situation at hand, but he’d be damned if he let you crawl into bed tonight without knowing how he truly felt about you. so, uncharacteristically, he takes a leap forward.

he unwinds the tension in his body and presses his lips to yours. it’s soft, chaste, innocent. something like a pause. he’s afraid to touch you, but you’ve already reeled him in with arms thrown around his shoulders, fingertips touching the softness of his black hair.

you bump your nose with his, shyly, and he kisses you open-mouthed. tongue in your mouth, meshing the taste of tobacco and prickly pear. the vanilla chapstick that he’d put on before he followed you out to the backyard.

he has one hand caressing your jaw and the other on your shoulder, thumb brushing over your collarbone in a way that makes your entire body shiver. you’re embarrassed at the pool of desire in between your legs.

megumi has never let himself be full of wanting, but at the moment, his veins are surging with it. it’s like a drug to him — your warmth, your scent, the saccharine taste of your mouth. your flesh is so soft, so pliable, from the way you dip towards the cavern of his lanky body, pressed against him chest to chest. letting his hand dig into the fat of your hip. fingertips grazing the skin underneath your shirt.

maybe it’s the liquor, but he’s feeling experimental — he tucks your bottom lip in between his teeth. pulls your hair ever so slightly. you mewl into his mouth quietly and he thinks that he’s never felt anything better than this. you’re wrapped up in all of him. you can quite literally feel the heat on his cheeks and both of you realize how aroused he is, his bulge prodding your thigh.

“fuck,” he whispers into your mouth, and he pulls away. only a few inches are separating you as he takes a moment to breathe. his eyes are blown out wide, black stretching across dark blue. both of you are stunned, panting, and the tension is more palpable than ever.

a rustling of grass makes both of you jump. when he turns, he sees yuuji and nobara staring with wide eyes.

“you owe me 7,000 yen,” yuuji deadpans to nobara.

“seriously, fushiguro? i didn’t think you had it in you!”

“i always had faith in you, fushiguro!” yuuji chimes.

while you giggle, megumi growls under his breath at the new intrusions of dumb and dumber.

“i personally thought you were way out of his league,” nobara tells you.

“eat shit.” megumi seethes with arms crossed, and despite his wrath, he resembles more of an angry kitten to you than any potential threat.

“sheesh, don’t summon a shikigami on them, megumi,” you tease with a pleased grin.

“i—” he stumbles over his words in frustration, grimacing. “what do the two of you want, anyway?”

“gojo-sensei got ijichi to sing doja cat.”

“oh, i’ve gotta see this,” you snort, grabbing megumi by the hand as you begin to usher the crew back inside. his heart leaps at the feeling of your fingers intertwined with his.

despite his inhibitions, megumi’s decided that he could get used to this.

[euhla]

Stay with me (please) 𝜗𝜚. AVENTURINE

𝄞⨾𓍢ִ໋. MDNI, smut, fem!reader, slight angst, poorly written smut, trauma (aventurine’s backstory), insecurity, fluff, friend w benefits, marking, bitting, dom/sub, soft dom, praise kink, p in v, creampie, soft sx, unprotected sx, dacryphilia, nipple play, pet names; baby, actually no plot ּ ֶָ֢. ໒꒰ྀིっ˕ -｡꒱ྀི১

𝄞⨾𓍢ִ໋. a/n : aventurine is the first character for my actual smut🙏 AND i’m trying to write smut and this is my HORRIBLE first experiment. anw, english is not my first language ! please forgive me if there’s any mistakes ^___0 (AGAIN, poorly written)

Bare skin without the slightest cloth touching each other on a night where the moon shines at its peak. The inaudible of the surrounding nature made the screams of pleasure could be heard clearly. And poor for those who hear that despicable voices.

It all feels like a fortnight ago; the first time two strangers met each other again—you were brought together by fate that bound you like a chain. Aventurine

As fellow members working under the IPC, you both have only met once before. Maybe it's because of the invisible wall—the caste that separates the two of you. He’s one of the Ten Stonehearts, while you’re merely a subordinate who obeys their superior.

In a corner of the magnificent city of Penacony, in a casino, a gathering place for people with enough wealth to make them confident of winning consecutively. The two of you meet again for the second time.

And it was clear from the first night; disguised under pretext of getting money and all of Aventurine's wealth, you actually just want to keep looking at his figure that always looks majestic and charming. Without doing anything, he will always be the center of attention.

The way his hands find the part that gives you pleasure, the way the praises he whispers to you always invites butterflies in your stomach. Everything he does feels like a blessing to you.

“Hah—“ You whimpered in between the pleasures. You feel overwhelmed by what he is doing to you; his hips moved back and forth in a pattern, His left hand moved to where it belongs—your breasts. He squeezed them, playing with your nipples as if they were toys. While his right hand covered his own mouth, to limit the sounds that came out of his mouth for the sake of his pride.

Without you realizing it, your tears start to fall. Whether because of pleasure or pain. And somewhere, inside you, something twitches. It’s Aventurine’s. He's aroused... of your crying?

You slowly opened your eyes. Your vision was a little blurry from tears, and you blinked several times to be able to see Aventurine. He's flustered, and you too.

“Ah.. i–“ He felt a little humiliated, being aroused by your crying. His hips almost stopped moving from the shock, and you protest about it.

“Hah… i- it’s okay,” You try to calm him down. Your shaking hand rose to cup his cheek. it’s okay

Once he regained his composure, he whisper in your ear, “mngh—you did so well for me, baby.”

After saying that, his lips immediately kissed the curve of your neck. Leaving marks that will disappear when morning comes. And he will remind you to wear a scarf or something that can cover it

This time his neck formed a beautiful curve while his head leaned back slightly, his mouth opened to let out a moan. This means his days are tiring

And the next thing you know, a warm feeling enters your womb. Aventurine just remained silent without any intention of pulling out.

You don't care what you look like now. The most important thing now is to calm Aventurine.

“Is everything okay?” One of your hands was in his hair, stroking it in an attempt to calm him down. “Something’s bothering you?” You asked again.

Reticence. Something enveloped the two of you. You still stroked his hair, even though the answer never came.

Of course he didn't answer you. Deep in his mind, only apprehension ran free. He felt ashamed of himself, ashamed of the slave mark that would always be on his neck. Accompanying him every step he takes, while reminding him who he really is. Who is nothing more or less than a slave.

The wound was old, but it still remained and felt fresh as if it had just been carved. And somewhere, in the depths of his mind, there was a great desire that was forced to hide; but i want to live, not just survive.

How does it feel to feel the sun's rays hitting your face without remembering your own past? How does it feel to be able to sleep soundly on a planet in this universe without fear of nightmares? Aventurine just wants to experience the beauty of life without hurting other people.

The remaining human feeling in his heart wants to reach you, wants to prevent you from leaving him. His mouth wanted to say three sacred words, but his heart told him to remain silent.

Will you still be willing to stay until I can accept everything?

[wavesoutbeingtossed]

My brain is on fire same I can’t sleep and am thinking of this:

The way she writes about marriage/family/commitment through these different situations across the album is soooooooooo interesting.

You have a very intense first experience of it in “The Manuscript,” where it is first dangled in front of her/the narrator’s young, impressionable self as shorthand for real love in a situation that ended up being smoke and mirrors. She’s being told everything she wants to hear by someone who basically thinks it’s just foreplay. In the end, when it’s clear that the other person has no intention of actually making a life with her, it makes her feel used, but she forces herself to recalibrate and become the girl she thinks he and all the other hes want her to be. Easy breezy cool. But there’s a sense of loss in realizing those hopes were merely banter to the other.

You have the “grown up” version of it alluded to in “So Long, London” and “How Did It End?”, the years of putting in work to save a relationship and the “deflation of our dreaming leaving [her] bereft and reeling” leading to them “calling it all off.” The implication is clearly that they built a home together with plans for next steps at a point in time, but the commitment is shattered. (Obviously to me it sounds like marriage.) She’s bitter at spending her “prime” years with someone who ultimately didn’t want to be there, even if he couldn’t or wouldn’t admit it himself.

She felt like she did everything she was supposed to, but they were learning the right steps to different dances at as it were. Those dreams were at one point shared, but in the end they weren’t right for each other and she admits that, though bitterly (“I founded the club she’s heard great things about” eg the years she put in for him to help him grow up will end up benefiting his new lover, “but I’m not the one,” “you’ll find someone,” etc.). Mixed in with all this of her resentment of him wasting her youth (sacrificing herself at the altar), and his resentment of her for reasons less defined, and insinuations of betrayal in the shadows. The fantasy of the whole package disappears into the ether, yet she still has no answers as to how they got there.

Then in comes the wolf in sheep’s clothing in many of the rest of the songs, the one who promises her all those things she’s dreamed of since she was a kid instantly. After years of moulding herself to other men’s desires, someone comes in and tells her exactly what she wants to hear at the most vulnerable time of her life, as though the universe is answering her prayers, like some sort of cosmic payback for all she’s suffered, and it’s the most intoxicating drug of all. She’s gone from her wish for a family life feeling like she’s in a way being used for her body, to it being used as a chain to a relationship gone sour, to having someone put a metaphorical ring on her finger and tell her he wants to have babies with her, fuck those other guys.

In her grief and stupor, it’s too good to be true, which is exactly why she falls for it. But of course, it’s all an illusion, because this wolf is an amalgamation of the worst of all the men who came before him. He tells her everything she wants to hear not to make her dreams come true, but to make his. He takes the worst parts of these scenarios to make his move: he’ll stand by her, he’ll commit, he’ll do it out in the open under the spotlight’s glare (all things desperately lacking in her last relationship), but after he beds her he stabs her in the back in private and leaves her. He got what he wanted at the expense of her losing everything she wanted, this time as her world caved in seemingly for good. She feels like she gave up everything she thought she might have had for a chance that this is where the universe has been point her all along, only to be left broken for good (you represent the loss of my life as I knew it).

Then there are two sort of codas to this. In “But Daddy I Love Him” we get a sassier reimagining of “Love Story,” where the girl with the scarlet letter is mouthy and crass and tells everyone to go fuck themselves for cursing her in the first place, choosing her love above all else. And no, those haters can’t come to her wedding. Her daddy may have come around, but they sure can’t. Finally it seems someone is choosing her and will someday give her these things, and she’ll be able to show all the naysayers. (Also interestingly one of the more fictionally-veiled songs which ends happily vs the diaristic ones that don’t.)

Then of course there’s “So High School,” our first glimpse into what the future holds. Probably the only unabashedly happy (nay… electric?) song on the album, it’s all about reclaiming the buzz of youth (which is a whole other post) with a new lover. “Are you gonna marry, kiss or kill me? It’s just a game but really, I’m betting on all three for us two.” It’s, er, a direct nod to a certain now-infamous interview, but again, she’s staking her claim on her future, if not certain then at least hopeful again. This time the prospect doesn’t come with a “but.” It’s not, we’ll be pushing strollers but actually you’re too young. It’s not, we had these dreams for our future but actually I can’t move forward. It’s not, I’m going to promise you a ring and a baby but only until my needs are met and then I’m out. It’s, I know what I wanted and I’m not leaving, and thanks to that now she stays too.

The album dealt with the theme not at all in the way I expected, but is absolutely fascinating.

[solarmorrigan]

For the angst prompt thing: Steddie and "Don't fucking touch me."

Hello! Thank you very much for sending a prompt, I'm sorry it took me so long to post, but I do think this one is my favorite out of all the fills I've done for this prompt list <3

[No warnings; Unnamed Freak (who apparently got a name in the most recent novel, but I didn't know that at the time) is named Oliver]

Angsty-ish Prompt List

-

“I’m gonna step outside for a minute,” Steve leans in to murmur in Eddie’s ear, even though the music isn’t that loud.

“Yeah, sounds good.” Eddie nods, and only just keeps himself from turning to catch Steve’s mouth in a kiss when he feels the brush of his lips against his ear; it’s not his fault he’s developed some kind of Pavlovian association between having Steve’s mouth anywhere near his skin and receiving kisses – but they do have company.

Said company is just Gareth, Jeff, and Oliver, but still. Eddie has some decorum.

Steve stands from the couch and the arm he’d had slung around Eddie’s shoulders slides away slowly, his hand brushing warm and heavy over the back of Eddie’s neck, thumb stroking once, familiarly, along the side of his throat before disappearing entirely as Steve moves towards the front door. He doesn’t do so great with groups of people in small spaces anymore; the noise gets to him, and the heat generated by so many bodies in close proximity tends to give him a headache, so he takes breaks now and then, just to give his brain a few minutes to unbend.

The door swings open on silent hinges (Steve had attacked it with a can of WD-40 and a look of determination earlier today, insisting he couldn’t stand the squeaking anymore; he’s always doing things like that around the house – little repairs, organizing, picking things up, even though Eddie insists he doesn’t have to. He says he wants to, the endearing little weirdo) and Steve steps out into the cool evening, leaving Eddie and the boys behind in the warm light of the trailer’s main room.

“So,” Jeff says, looking up from his spot on the floor and gesturing vaguely at Eddie with his beer can, “how’s that going for you guys?”

Eddie blinks at him. “How’s what going?”

“The whole thing between you two,” Jeff clarifies, and Eddie raises a skeptical brow at him.

“You wanna talk about me and Steve having sex?” Eddie asks.

Jeff’s nose scrunches in distaste. “What? No.”

“Not ever,” Gareth jumps in.

“I mean…” Oliver says with a shrug, flinching when Gareth pelts him with a balled-up napkin.

“No,” Gareth reiterates.

“I refuse to apologize for simple curiosity,” Oliver sniffs, and Eddie, seated next to him on the couch, gives him a shove.

He’s glad his friends are accepting – supportive, even (he’d like to say he wouldn’t hang out with them if they weren’t, but let’s be real: nerds could be hard to come by in their neck of the woods, and as long as they were the quiet type of homophobic, Eddie would probably still play D&D with them. But he’s glad they’re not), but he does have some boundaries.

Like, one or two, maybe.

“I just meant the whole… dating thing,” Jeff says, taking a sip from his beer. “Because I’ll be honest, I really didn’t see it at first, but it actually seems to be working out.”

“Dating?” Eddie parrots blankly.

“Yeah. You guys are in, like, some kind of never-ending honeymoon phase or some shit,” Gareth says. “Hasn’t it been over two months?”

“Uhhh, no, I think you gentlemen are confused,” Eddie drawls. “Steve and I are not dating.”

This declaration is met with a moment of silence.

“Seriously?” Oliver finally says.

“Yep,” Eddie replies easily. “No relationship shit here. Strictly a friends-with-benefits-type deal.”

“Seriously,” Olver says again, flatly this time.

“Yes, Oliver, seriously,” Eddie huffs, reaching over to give him another shove, only to have his hand pushed away.

“Eddie, he was practically sitting in your lap just now,” Jeff says. “You two are all over each other.”

“Constantly,” Gareth adds.

Eddie shrugs. “It’s not like this is a big couch; we gotta squish. Anyway, Steve’s just a touchy kind of guy.”

“He doesn’t sit like that with any of us,” Gareth points out.

“Yeah, well, you guys aren’t the ones receiving benefits,” Eddie says. “You want him to sit on your lap? You could ask.”

Gareth lets his head hang back with a noise of frustration. “That’s not the point, and you know it.”

“Don’t you two go on dates?” Jeff asks. “I’ve seen you at the movies. You talk about going out to eat, doing other shit…”

“Yeah, see, that’s the friends part of friends with benefits,” Eddie snarks. “Friends hang out sometimes, I’ve been told. We are all, in fact, hanging out right now, but that doesn’t mean I’m dating any of you.”

“You don’t see the way he looks at you?” Oliver asks, and Eddie can’t help but scoff.

He appreciates the fact that Oliver is passionate about pretty much anything he does, but it also means he’s given to romanticizing. He doesn’t usually manage to drag Jeff or Gareth in with him, though.

“Pretty sure he looks at me like a friend, because that’s what we are.” Eddie rolls his eyes before offering a smarmy little grin. “I mean, I’m sure he looks at me as an exceptionally attractive friend, but that’s it.”

“Genuinely can’t tell if you’re fucking with us, man,” Jeff says, rolling his eyes.

“Genuinely, I am not,” Eddie promises, taking the last viable swallow from his beer before getting up and heading for the kitchen, wiggling his empty can at the others with a raised eyebrow in question. Gareth raises his own near-empty can with a shrug and Eddie nods. “Look,” he says as he ducks towards the fridge, “Steve isn’t the kinda guy you have a relationship with, anyway, you know?”

Eddie doesn’t mean this in a negative way, just as a matter of fact. Steve just doesn’t seem to be a relationship kind of guy. Nancy had been something of an outlier, in how long she and Steve had lasted, and it had become clear after the dust from the Upside Down had settled that he really doesn’t have any interest in pursuing her further. Just the other day, he’d mentioned to Eddie how difficult relationships can be, and about how glad he is they have their thing together instead.

“Being with you is just… easy,” Steve had said; he hadn’t been looking at Eddie at the time, his face instead pillowed on Eddie’s chest, hair sticking to his naked skin where the sweat was still cooling from their last round, but Eddie could see the edge of a smile on his lips.

And Eddie doesn’t have much experience with relationships himself, but he knows that being friends with Steve is easy and that the sex feels equally easy and that the way he’d agreed with Steve and carded his fingers through his hair had sent Steve right to sleep with that same smile still in place.

Easy.

Now, Eddie shoves his head into the fridge and reaches for the beers that have somehow gotten pushed to the back. “It’s nothing major, okay?” he calls back towards the living room.

“Eddie…” Gareth calls back, an edge to his voice.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m on it.” Eddie waves vaguely, making sure to grab a second beer. “Anyway, Steve’s a good friend, and he’s really hot, and we’re just having fun.”

The bang of the front door against the frame startles Eddie so badly he nearly smacks his head on the underside of the freezer as he stands, a beer clutched in each hand like he might be able to use them as projectiles.

There is no threat, though – just Steve, who had apparently failed to catch the screen door before it had shut too quickly behind him. He doesn’t seem to have noticed; he’s just standing there, staring at Eddie, color rising high in his cheeks, eyes wide and shocked, like he’s just been slapped.

Concern wells up from Eddie’s gut, and he opens to his mouth to ask what’s wrong when Steve finally speaks.

“Yeah,” he croaks, “I’m not having fun.”

Eddie’s brows furrow in confusion, the beginnings of cold dread trickling into his veins well ahead of any conscious thought.

“I think I– I think I should go,” Steve says.

He grabs his keys from the side table by the door, where they’ve lived next to Eddie’s and Wayne’s for the last few months whenever he’s been at the house, and then he’s gone again, the screen door banging shut once more behind him.

And Eddie has no idea what just happened, but he knows it wasn’t good. He drops the beers on the counter and bolts out the door after Steve.

Steve is nearly to his car by the time Eddie scrambles down the front steps, and he’s paying absolutely no attention when Eddie calls after him.

“Steve,” Eddie tries again, stumbling to a stop right behind him as he jams his keys into the driver’s side lock. “Steve, for fuck’s sake, what–” he reaches out, wrapping one hand around Steve’s bicep, and Steve jerks out of his grip.

“Don’t fucking touch me,” Steve snaps.

Eddie pulls his hand back, but doesn’t step away, entirely baffled by the sudden turn the evening has taken. “What the hell happened back there?”

Steve goes still, grip going lax on his keys. “I heard what you said, Eddie.”

“About – about what? Are you mad I was talking to them about us sleeping together? Because, Steve, they already knew,” Eddie insists, a little incredulous. “You said you were fine with them knowing! You were practically feeling me up in front of them!”

“I don’t give a shit if they know we’re having sex!” Steve hisses, finally whirling around to look at Eddie. “I meant the rest. About how I’m not the kind of guy you have a relationship with.”

Eddie’s stomach sinks. He hadn’t realized that was such a sensitive subject. “I – shit, I wasn’t trying to hurt your feelings, I just didn’t think you wanted–”

“About how we’re just having fun,” Steve cuts in, and if he’d sounded raw before, his voice is practically ground down to nothing now.

That brings Eddie up short. “…aren’t we?” he asks after a moment.

Steve says nothing.

“I mean, shit, Steve, it’s not like we’re in a relationship,” Eddie says, offering a little laugh, because even Steve would have to admit that the idea is a little silly.

Except.

Except Steve just glances away, staring at the ground beside Eddie’s feet, and – oh, shit.

“Oh, shit.”

Steve is still unnervingly silent, one arm curled around his middle while the other hand comes up to pinch briefly at the bridge of his nose. He still won’t look at Eddie.

“You… you thought we were,” Eddie says dumbly, and Steve shrugs.

“Can you blame me? We spend all our time together, Eddie. I’m here more than I’m at my own house, I think I can count on one hand the number of times I’ve slept in my own bed in the last month. We go out and do things together, I try to keep things nice around the house because I want Wayne to like me, we have, like, a lot of sex, and– we… I mean, we kiss and touch and just – do shit like that even when it doesn’t lead anywhere.” Steve shrugs helplessly, finally looking up. “I mean, Christ, Eddie, what did you think we were doing?”

“I thought we were friends!” Eddie insists. Steve throws him an incredulous look and Eddie amends, “With benefits!”

“Right.” Steve’s expression flattens back out, going cold and hard and unlike anything Eddie’s become used to from him. “Because I’m not the kind of guy you’d want to have a relationship with.”

“I said that because I thought you didn’t want to be in a relationship!” Eddie snaps. “It’s not like you stay with anyone for very long, so I just assumed you didn’t want to be with anyone.”

Some of the ice retreats from Steve’s face, leaving a watering kind of hurt in its stead. “Do you listen to me at all when I talk?”

“What? Of course I do!” Eddie might have gotten turned around in certain respects, but he will not have his merits as a friend called into question; of course he listens to Steve.

“Are you sure? Because I talk about you an awful lot. I talk about doing things with you, about doing things in the future with you,” Steve says pointedly, “about how I want to stay with you.”

And Eddie had wanted Steve to stay with him, too. He’s just been thinking – well, he’d thought it was because they get along so well, that Steve had wanted to stick around. That it had only made sense.

“We never talked about… being anything else,” Eddie says, the protest a little weak even to his own ears. “I’m pretty sure I’d remember that.”

Steve pulls a sharp breath in, pinching at the bridge of his nose again; he leaves his hand there this time, eyes scrunched shut. “Just a few days ago, I told you how much I liked being with you. How good and how easy it felt compared to anyone else I’ve ever been with,” he says, barely more than a rough whisper. “And you said…”

I like being with you, too.

Eddie had said that.

He’d meant that he likes being around Steve, likes being his friend, definitely likes having sex with him, but he’d said it while combing his fingers through Steve’s hair, while cuddled up with him in bed, and – okay, yes, he can see the mixed signals there. He can see where Steve might have gotten the idea that they didn’t have an arrangement, that they were just together.

“I– I didn’t mean–”

“Obviously,” Steve snaps, dropping his hand from his face and turning back towards his car.

Eddie tsks, frustrated, and reaches out to grab Steve’s wrist – not pulling, just trying to keep his attention.

“Don’t,” Steve warns him, pulling back from his grasp for a second time.

“I didn’t mean to lead you on,” Eddie tries desperately. “I really… I really didn’t.”

“Yeah. I can see that. But Eddie…” Steve is quiet for a moment, posture so tense and still that Eddie suspects he’s not even breathing. “I’m probably the best-qualified asshole around to tell you that you really have to fucking think about how what you’re doing affects the people around you.”

Somehow, that stings more than any screamed insult Steve could have thrown at him.

“Steve…”

“I’ll come get my shit out of your place tomorrow,” Steve says, low and sharp, before getting into his car and slamming the door behind him.

After that, Eddie has no choice but to step back or get run over, and he watches until Steve’s taillights are no longer visible.

He can hear the hissing of some whispered conversation just beyond the door as he trudges back up the front steps, but his friends fall conspicuously quiet the moment he steps inside.

“…hey,” Gareth finally ventures after several seconds of awkward, sticky silence.

“Hey,” Eddie says flatly.

“Do you… want us to stay?” Jeff asks.

Slowly, Eddie shakes his head. “I think I should… I need to– think about shit.”

The boys all nod, throwing him variously sympathetic glances and clapping him on the shoulder on their way out. Oliver pauses, as if he’s going to say something, but Gareth gives him a shove and gets him out the door before he has the chance. Probably for the best.

Eddie feels numb as he trudges back towards his room, trying to figure out what the hell had just happened.

He flops down on his bed, face landing in a pillow that smells entirely too much like Steve’s shampoo. Probably because it’s on the side of the bed that Steve always takes. Next to the nightstand with the small stack of sports magazines that definitely aren’t Eddie’s. And the spare pair of glasses that also isn’t Eddie’s.

With a low tug in his gut, Eddie realizes how much of Steve’s stuff has crept into his room, into the trailer, into his life – how much Steve has become a part of his life, how much of Eddie’s day has been built around him, how much he’s come to lean on his presence, has come to want him there.

And Steve is going to take it all back sometime soon. Take all of his things away before he removes himself from Eddie’s life, too, because Eddie hadn’t been thinking and he hadn’t been careful and he hadn’t realized–

Eddie’s pretty sure he just broke up with Steve.

He’s also pretty sure he hadn’t wanted to.

His main consolation, as he curls up on his side, nose still buried in Steve’s pillow, is that as soon as Robin hears what happened (and she will hear, he has no doubt), she’ll probably come murder him.

At least he won’t have to wallow for long.

Part 2

[butteronabun]

woah, it’s just so easy to be sentimental

– an alhaitham x female reader, fwb au

overview: this conversation with him was eventually coming—it’s alhaitham, after all.

wc: 1.3k

notes: this is a modern au! also, implied smexy times but nothing explicit happens. c:

“What do you even benefit from this?” You finally speak, after two minutes of catching your breath.

You’re currently laying on top of Alhaitham, with the side of your head buried on his enormous chest. He places the plush quilt on your lower body, and his hand stays on your back.

You hear his heartbeat calming down. 

But now, yours is the opposite. Forget about regaining your composure, now that the question is out—a question long overdue by the way—you have no choice but to swallow your anxiety and face it. You finally asked him. 

And this is a good thing, right? At least, even if his answer will probably shatter you just like how Cyno broke Tighnari’s window, the annoying questions in your head can finally shut up. Right? 

Who are you kidding? You feel like you’re going to combust. It's Alhaitham. Who knows what he’s gonna answer? 

“. . .You could actually choose other people than me to be your fuckbuddy, you know. There are far better candidates out there.” You remark, and you feel your chest tighten. Why is this so hard? You feel like breaking down. “Like, like. Um. I don’t know. Maybe that one girl from your Darshan? She seems really nice. Real gorgeous, too.”

Ah, yes. Here it comes. Comparing yourself to other women. Great. Now it’s harder than before. Sooner or later, you’ll have to participate in your own solo 'Try Not To Cry Challenge In Front of The Man Who Literally Folded You in Half Moments Ago.'

You feel Alhaitham’s pec vibrate on your cheek when he replies, “I have my reasons.”

Damn him and his reasons. You need his answers. Unfiltered answers. “Then give me one.”

You tense when his thumb of his hand—that’s still remained on your back—begin to rub through the fabric of the blanket. As your cheeks steam, you shut your eyes tightly from the sensation, wishing that Alhaitham won’t notice. But since he continues his ministrations anyway, it’s safe to conclude that he did. Sometimes, he’s a bastard. ( But you like him, though. And that sucks. Maybe. Maybe not. ) 

He supplies, “Our bodies are already familiar with each other. I’m not interested in getting intimate with another and testing the waters. That takes too much of my time.” 

Right. During your first and second sessions with Alhaitham, he seized the moments and explored what worked for you and what worked for him. What worked for the both of you. 

“Okay.” 

Perhaps, what he has said is already enough for you - but it’s bullshit in your own opinion if you think you’ll only be satisfied with that. You need to know more. Even if it’ll probably lead to your doom. Why can’t you just be relieved for once? Why are you always curious? Ugh, you really have it in you to become one of Vahumana’s top students! “What are the other reasons, then?”

His caressing comes into a halt. “Do you really want to know?

Wow. Now that sure is ominous. You open your eyes at that. The blunt Alhaitham asking you if you want to know? You lift your head from his chest and blink up at him in disbelief. You try to think of other things just so you can ignore the nervous ache in your stomach.

But it’s all pointless! Everything inside this room is all Alhaitham. Everything reminds him of you, because this is his room, for archon’s sake! You sigh heavily, and stare at his irritatingly handsome face. You, sadly, have no choice.

Even if you’ve seen this sight a hundred times already and even up close considering you’ve, ahem, with him, he still makes you flustered. One gaze and you’re out. One gaze and all your clothes are on the floor. 

Not to mention, it’s just so unfair that despite all the activities you’ve both shared, he’s still so attractive. And he’s glowing. How? Why are you so lucky? And out of all the people in the world, how did you end up in his bed?

The curiosity itches.

You poke at his skin repeatedly. “That’s why I’m asking? Why are you being sus, Alhaitham?”

He sends you a flat look. “Do you mean ‘suspicious’?”

You grin playfully at him. It’s hilarious to see him get offended whenever you use some slangs that he finds nonsensical. This is what he gets—you provoking him with words that he thinks are embarrassments to the languages.

Alhaitham exhales through his nose, then resumes on rubbing your back. “Give me a minute. I’m trying to weigh the pros and the cons. Apparently, it’s hard on my part because you are an unpredictable one.”

Your eyes sparkle. Now that the anxiousness has dissipated away, it’s replaced with excitement. “Ooh, this is new!” Alhaitham doesn’t open up much regarding his personal thoughts, so you’re relishing on this. “I’m a challenge to you?”

“Very much so.”

Really? A challenge for the intelligent Alhaitham? You? You chuckle, “Maybe you’re overthinking this!”

“Maybe I am.”

Then, you return to your position once more, content on making his chest a pillow. “So do you think I’m complicated?” 

“Do you want the truth?”

You huff. So many short questions and responses. You’re literally giving him the hint that he has the permission to tell you. “I didn’t reach out to you for nothing. What I like about you is that you’re brutally honest.”

Then, it’s quiet. 

Alhaitham’s thumb is still rubbing on your back. You grow a little worried, wondering why he has stopped answering. You’re about to raise your head again, until his available hand rests on top of it, preventing you from taking a glance at whatever expression he’s making.

“I have read a lot of books that are incredibly complicated—books that make people drop immediately because they find it hard to grasp and comprehend. Fortunately for me, I am not that type of person. I like the challenge, especially if it requires critical thinking. And in return, I gain new knowledge. I gain new lessons.”

Trying to make sense of it all, you hum inquisitively, “So, your point is?”

“So even if you are a mess—” “Hey!” “—Even if there are times that I find it difficult to understand your intentions or your actions, I have no plans of leaving you.”

Your heart performs somersaults. 

Oh. Oh.

All this? Coming from Alhaitham himself?

Impossible. There's just no way he said all that.

The words that you do not want to disclose reveal itselves anyway. “And. . .” You murmur, “. . .if you’re satisfied? W–will you abandon me like your other books that are gathering dust on the top shelves?”

“I’ll give you a chance to reflect on what you’ve just said. Your claims are as false as what the flat earthers fight for.” Alhaitham admonishes.

You are now the one who is rendered speechless. You don’t know if you should laugh again because the flat earthers became an example or if you should just stay silent. You don’t think you can take what he’s about to say next.

The organ inside your ribcage squeezes, and gradually, you quiver. The nervousness makes its grand entrance again.

You detach yourself from his chest once more, and meet his indifferent gaze. It’s expected, but your heart begins to pound when you realize that his eyes seem too intense this time. 

“Alhaitham. . .?”

“For the record, I don’t abandon the books. I read them once a year. And again, don’t compare yourself to bad similes—if you want me to revise it, I will be more than glad to construct one now.” The hand that’s on top of your head slides down, and he grabs your chin with his thumb and index finger. 

( Him and his habit of correcting your figures of speech. He always finds a way to insert this in every conversation, even in the most ridiculous and most serious of scenarios. )

“So,” Alhaitham lowers his eyelids, and you swallow. “Do you get what I’m trying to imply?”

You do.

And you’re not sure if you want to say yes.

Because once you nod or affirm, there’s no turning back from this.

[thethronezone]

High Consort to the Emperor

There's not enough Emperor x Reader content *rolls up my sleeves* Guess I have to do it myself.

First of all, I think the only way he would get into an actual, long term relationship would be if the other person were a perpetual. Like, he don't wanna invest time and effort and emotions into a person that is going to die of old age after, what, 200, 300 years? He did that shit when he was younger and that always hurt. He ain't doing that again.

Even if you are a perpetual though that's lived for thousands of years he's always going to act slightly patronizing towards you. He always thinks that he knows best and any arguments you have is simply seen as a tantrum on your end. He'll just wait until you've calmed down and come to your senses.

Partner is given the title of High Consort. Very neat title, all the benefits and you probably don't have to do any actual work. Maybe act nice and polite in front of high ranking officials but that's it. Of course, if you want to work then Big E ain't gonna stop you. In fact, he'll be happy that you're so invested in the Imperium! Here's some paperwork and administrative duties to keep you busy. Yeah, he mostly sees this as a way to keep you entertained and feeling useful.

You'll have anything you could ever think of. Any food, any clothing, any luxury. The Emperor says he doesn't like to spoil you but after returning from a long mission or whatever, he will always bring you something. Mostly just so he can show off and impress you. The man has a massive ego, what did you expect? For a guy that refuses to be called a god, he sure loves it when you worship him.

Rarely calls you your actual name, at least in public. Calls you a mixture of "Consort", "my Consort", and if he's feeling playful/flirty, "my star". Only really calls you your name behind closed doors, when it's just the two of you (plus any Custodian that might be there, he don't give a fuck).

Matching outfits! At least, you're matching him. Always some kind of gold in your outfits, be it golden threads or gold jewelry. Of course you also wear a laurel.

Likes having you by his side but can go for longer periods without your company, simply because he knows he will eventually see you and catch up. And by 'longer periods' I mean months, years, DECADES. He's a busy man, alright? Always acts like it's been no time at all since he last saw you when you finally reunite. After all, what is time for a man that is immortal and has lived for tens of thousands of years?

You have your own Custodi bodyguard that follows you everywhere. They were not chosen just for their skill but also because the actually know how to hold a conversation like a normal person. Are they still a brainwashed superhuman with unquestionable loyalty to the Emperor? Sure, but when you ask them how they are feeling they don't automatically go "Feelings are irrelevant, only service to the Emperor of Mankind matters" like majority of the Custodes do.

The Emperor prefers it when you stay in the Imperial Palace. Does he stop or forbid you from leaving? No, you're a grown person, you can make your own decisions. WILL have you followed however. Not because he doesn't trust you but he's got so many enemies that it would be stupid to assume no one would target you in order to get to him.

Malcador the Bestie! Will listen to you vent about your love life and then give you some solid advice. Is the advice slightly biased because he wants you to get along with the Emperor (which has proven to increase the man's effectiveness and willingness to collaborate by a staggering 1.4%)? Maybe, but it's still solid advice! Also brings you the best gossip.

[revelboo]

Just letting you know because of you and your amazing fics I got a soundwave blokees (I'm so sane and will not need anymore (I'm going dellulu)

But he’ll be lonely…

They’re excited about a road trip

Everything Is Alright Pt 83

IDW Starscream x Reader, Soundwave x Reader, Megatron x Reader

• “Megatron finding out was inevitable,” he says, deep tonal voice low as his servos flex. Wishes he could reach for you even if it’s just to slide a servo against your hair. But he can feel that molten anger just barely leashed from the Seeker. Knows any move to come closer will be met with violence. You’re willing to give him the benefit of the doubt, but Starscream will never trust him again. “Safe under his protection now.” Only because it amuses the warlord to have a way to manipulate Starscream and ensure good behavior. He knows how precarious this is. How dangerous.

• “His protection?” Starscream snarls, wings trembling slightly in fury. Of course, Soundwave thinks you’re safe now. He’s never been on the receiving end of Megatron’s fury, always been favored. You’ll just be a toy he can amuse himself with until he grows bored or breaks you. Toying with you just to hurt him, amusing himself with casual violence just to hear you in pain. “I’ve seen how little his protection is worth.”

• Uncertain, you look between them. Torn between the fear Starscream’s anger is sparking and wanting to believe that Soundwave really did this as a kindness. That he’d been trying to keep you safe. You know them both. Are familiar with them. Megatron’s a complete unknown. He hasn’t harmed you yet, but if Star’s right his temper is too mercurial to trust. But maybe it’s like when you first figured out how starved Star was for validation. You’d manipulated him, feeding his ego to stay alive. Eventually you hadn’t had to lie to him, you’d started actually caring. You can play the same game with Megatron. Figure out how to be what he needs to keep yourself and Star safe until he bores of you. “Okay,” you say tiredly.

• “You can’t possibly believe him,” Starscream growls, looking down at you, wings flaring. Venting tiredly when you lay a hand on his chassis. “Primus.” Your trusting nature is going to be the end of him. Knows it, but still can’t bring himself to crush your trust, because if not for it, he wouldn’t have this. Have you. All because you’d trusted him again and again. Just kept reaching for him. So believe what you need to, and he’ll keep watch, waiting for the next betrayal. “Megatron is dangerous.”

• Spark aching that you’re still willing to take him at his word even though he hurt you, Soundwave’s head lowers. Because the Seeker isn’t wrong. Megatron is unpredictable and his anger all consuming. “We can protect. Keep him in line.” You’re looking up at him, eyes uncertain as the Seeker laughs, head tipping back to stare at the ceiling. Hoping this isn’t a mistake. That he made the right decision even as he’s not sure how to curb the warlord’s worst impulses. This was the only path forward, though. Needs to believe that it won’t cost him everything. Because what he has now? He’s not sure he’d survive losing it without finding out where it will go. Wants to wake up to your warmth against him, feel you drowsing in his cassette compartment, your wild emotions spinning him tight when he touches you. Wants everything.

Previous

Next

[loverzoath]

Safe Haven ❀

Relationship: Child!Dean & Child!Sam & Foster parent!Reader

Summary: Reader is a foster parent takes in Dean and Sam Winchester, two young brothers with a difficult past, determined to provide them with a safe and loving home.

Word Count: 3,020

a/n: I don’t really know how fostering works 100% so feel free to correct me 😓.

The first time you ever heard of the Winchesters was when Sandra -your CASA- gave you a call around 6 pm informing you she has a file for you about 2 boys.

Dean and Sam Winchester. 3 and 7 years old. Both are currently at the Children’s Home Society of North Carolina. You are familiar with the Home since you usually volunteer on weekends. Sandra spoke in a rush, which was absolutely not like her, explaining the need of a foster home in short notice. Even in extreme cases you were usually given a 2 weeks notice to get ready for a child you would shelter.

So when Sandra said she would be there with them tomorrow you knew it was a serious case.

You have been a foster parent for 9 years. And one thing you learned was that with this job came a lot of unpredictable things. When you first became a foster parent, it was at the age of 22, fresh out of college as an RN. It was from there you decided on becoming a school nurse. It was the only nursing occupation that lined up with your responsibilities as a foster mom. A job where you work the same place your child learns and you can be a nurse? Yes please!

Another reason is the benefits that would come from working in the same school for almost a decade. The staff are well known and your boss understands when you need a week or two off to adjust to another little person in your home. Last time you called off was 7 months ago for a young boy named Jack. So that should be enough time to ask for another break.

You immediately call Wesson, your boss. He was a sweet person. Though the opposite is commonly thought when people first meet him. His expensive suits and watches make him look serious. And Wess is anything but. He loves his little lego collection he has growing in his bottom shelf. The phone only rings twice before his cheery voice floats through the speaker.

“Good evening, ________.” He greets politely

“Good evening, Mr. Wesson- I mean Wess.” After the day you helped his daughter through her first cycle in school she gave her father quite the adulation of the scene because the next day you got a personal thanks and permission to call Mr. Wesson, Wess. “I would like to request 2 weeks off?”

“Of course! I'll schedule it for next month then?” There was a bit of shuffling on his end. Wesson knew your responsibilities as a foster parent and when you usually ask for a break.

“Actually, I know it's short notice but I need it for this week and the next?” You grimace a little as you force the words out

“Not a problem ________, but I will say this is new. Why so suddenly?” He spoke more softly now and i knew he was asking not as my boss but a friend.

“Yeah it’s apparently a very serious case. I didn't even get all the information before she hung up.” I sighed heavily though the receiver

“How about this then, take another week. We have the manpower to handle a couple nosebleeds.” He proceeds to laugh at his own joke a little too long.

“Thank you Wess. I need to get the rooms ready now, tell Annabeth I said good night.”

“Of course. you take care of yourself.” Wess said (demanded) before he hung up

You start up the stairs immediately. Being a foster parent means having rooms open and available. 7 and 3. You have Jack's room still made and can be for Dean. In Sam’s case, you have a room for toddlers but you haven’t had to care for one in 2 years. You walk into the room across and survey it. It has a bed with adjustable rails but the room looks bland. Maybe you should have insisted on a time frame.

You place some toddler necessities ,like pull ups, wipes, powder, and such, from the basement onto the dresser. Then taking some toys in the chest of Jack’s old room and placing them in a little basket for Sam's room. By the time you finish preparing the rooms you feel the exhaustion of the day weight on your body. You watch both the boys' rooms again before you lay boneless on the couch.

You lose yourself in thought. You have done this routine many times before, but something about this felt.. heavier. Different. While you have been doing this for a very very long time, even someone experienced like you had periods of anxiety for the child. In this case, you chalk it up to the lack of information, and even though you don't believe yourself right now, all you can do is hope that you are enough to help these two boys. Tomorrow, you have a lot of shopping to do. With or without the boys accompanying you. New clothes, books, toys. You are going to go all out like you usually do.

You fall asleep on the couch with these thoughts hovering over you. Underall the worries and excitement is hope. Hope that maybe this time you can keep them.

You woke up slowly to the sound of your phone ringing. For a moment you let it ring, burying your face in the pillows of the couch. That lasted all of 3 seconds before you remembered who is coming today. And to say you shot out of the couch was an understatement. You snatched your phone and fumbled around for the answer button.

“Good— AHEM. Good morning.” You greet, clearing the sleep out your throat.

“__________, Hi, I'm so sorry about the lack of communication.” It was Sandra. “I will come around 2 pm to discuss the placement.” There is serious exhaustion laced in her voice.

“Sandra, are you okay?” You whispered. Another blaring red flag is Sandra being anything but her normal cheerful and bubbly self, and with this job you have to be. You can count on one hand Sandra has been this way, tired and worn out, for the 9 years you’ve known her.

“I’m fine,” Sandra assured, but her voice wavered. “Just… It's been a long few days. I’ll explain more when I see you.”

You hesitated, feeling the weight in her tone. “Okay, Sandra. I’ll see you at two. Please get some rest if you can.”

“Thanks, ________. You’re a lifesaver, as always.”

The call ended with a soft click, leaving you standing in the quiet of your living room, phone still in hand. The knot of unease in your stomach tightened.

Two boys. Dean and Sam Winchester. Something about their situation clearly had Sandra running on fumes. You’ve seen tough cases before, but this one felt different, heavier, as if their names carried a weight you didn’t yet understand.

Shaking off the worry, you glanced at the clock. It was just past 8 a.m, That meant you had six hours before Sandra arrived, with a to-do list so long it made you inwardly groan.

It was then your stomach decided to remind you that you haven’t eaten since last night. You quickly made some pancakes and scarfed it down. After the meal you left immediately, there wasn’t time to do any dishes when you have a room to decorate. The usual routine kicked in. Grab essentials, plan for every possible need, and the small touches that might help the boys feel more at home.

By 10:30 a.m., your cart was full. You’d picked up toddler-friendly snacks, clothes in sizes that should fit a three-year-old and a seven-year-old, a set of books you hoped Dean would enjoy, and a stuffed moose for Sam. It wasn’t much, but it was a start.

When you got back home, you unpacked the haul and happily put the finishing touches on their rooms. You arranged the moose on Sam’s bed, tucked a book about astronauts onto Dean’s pillow, and stood back to assess the rooms.

“Okay,” you murmured to yourself. “God. I am good.” You smile

It was just after 1 p.m when you finally were able to sit down. You tried to sip a glass of water to steady the bundle of nerves building in your stomach. It really wasn’t working. The thought of meeting the boys, seeing their faces, and learning their story made your heart skip a couple beats.

Would they trust you? Would you be able to give them the stable home they need? What if they grow to hate it here?

Doubts started to plague your mind. So by the time 2 p.m rolled around, you were pacing the living room and looking out the window every few minutes. When you heard Sandra’s car turn into your driveway, your stomach started to do flips.Sandra’s car was a shiny black Camaro. The car you have come to memorize when you got a new addition to your family. The car’s door opened and Sandra walked out,looking more tired than you’ve ever seen her. Her hair was pulled into a messy bun and the dark circles under her eyes told you she hadn’t slept much, if at all since the first call.

And then you saw them.

Dean was the first to climb out of the car, his movements careful but confident. He was small for a seven-year-old, his dirty blonde hair sticking up at odd angles, as if he had been running his hands through it. His green eyes surveyed the driveway, the house, and finally, you, with wariness that made your heart hurt.

Sam followed, gripping a worn-out blanket in one hand and rubbing his sleepy eyes with the other. He was tiny, with dark brown hair that curled slightly at the ends. It was longer than Deans, he had dark bangs that framed his small face perfectly. His cheeks were tear-streaked— he must’ve been crying, he clung to Dean’s side like a lifeline.

“Hi there,” you said gently, stepping onto the porch as carefully as you could manage. You didn’t want to scare them.

Dean didn’t respond, but his gaze sharpened, studying you like he was trying to figure out if you were a threat. Sam buried his face against Dean’s shoulder, his little body trembling.

Sandra gave you a tired smile. “_________,” she began, “these are the Winchester boys.”

You crouched down, keeping your voice soft and warm. “Hi, Dean. Hi, Sam. My name’s _________. It’s nice to meet you.”

Dean didn’t say anything, but his gaze hardened. Sam peeked out from where he shuffled behind Dean, his big brown eyes glistening with unshed tears.

Sandra knelt down, her voice low and soothing. “Sammy, it’s okay. Remember what I told you? ________ is really nice. You’re going to be safe here.”

Dean’s head snapped toward Sandra at the word safe, his expression unreadable.

“It’s okay,” you said, addressing both boys. “You don’t have to say anything. I just want you to know you are very welcomed here, and I’m here to support you guys however I can.”

Sam clutched Dean’s side tighter, but Dean stepped forward, just a little. His green eyes locked onto yours, searching.

“Are you gonna keep us together?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

The question hit you like a punch to the gut. What have these two boys gone through for him to have to ask that?“Yes, Dean. I promise. You’ll stay together.” For extra measure “I made sure your rooms are right across from each other.” I reassured the child

Dean’s shoulders relaxed, just a fraction, and for the first time, you saw a flash of hope in his eyes.

Sandra stood, her eyes glassy. “Let’s get inside. We have a lot to talk about.”

You nodded, holding the door open as they walked in slowly. Taking in the whole scene.

The moment they were inside, you felt the shift. Dean's eyes scanned the big living room, taking in every detail as though he needed to memorize the space. He studied the plants in the corner, the small basket with cars in the play area, and paid special attention to the exits. The windows and the front and back door. All while Sam clung to Dean’s side, the blanket he had in his hand dragging on the floor. You shut the door behind them trying to make everything feel as calm and welcoming as possible at the moment.

"Want a snack?" you asked softly, crouching at the knees to be level with them. "I have some juice boxes and animal crackers in the kitchen."

Sam looked up at Dean for some brotherly reassurance. Dean looked at Sandra, who nodded reassuringly. Then he turned to you and gave you a small, timid nod.

"Terrific," you said, still as light. "Come on. Get you two settled." Your heart swells with affection when they both follow you to the kitchen immediately.

You led them into the kitchen, where you'd already set out some snacks on the table. Sam climbed into one of the chairs, blanket still firmly in hand, while Dean hovered near him protectively.

You frowned a little in thought. You wanted Dean to sit too but it didn't look like he was leaving Sam’s side anytime soon. You take another chair and slide it right next to Sam. The boys look at you with a face of confusion. Even Sandra quirked a thin eyebrow in your direction. You look at Dean and smile as you pat the seat. He stares at first. Hesitant to move from Sam’s side. But after a couple seconds, he sat in the chair. His eyes flick to you once, no longer hardened or glaring. You took it as a thank you and felt yourself beem.

Sandra sat across from them, her exhaustion more visible now that she wasn't standing. "Thank you for this," she said quietly, her voice just loud enough for you to hear.

You nodded, offering her a small smile. “It’s what I’m here for. We’ll make it work.”

Sandra exhaled deeply, and for a moment, she looked like she might have started to cry. That made you straighten up a little more. But then she squared her shoulders and gave her full attention to the two boys sitting in the chairs. “Okay let’s talk about what’s happening.”

Dean stiffened, his small hands curling into fists on the table. Sam leaned closer to him, as if seeking protection.

Sandra kept her voice soft. "You're going to stay here with ________ for a little while. She's going to take care of you, and you'll have your own rooms, toys, everything you need. You're safe here."

Dean's jaw tightened, and he finally spoke. "What about Dad?"

Sandra froze, her lips parting as if to speak, but no words came out. You stepped in, sensing her hesitation.

Right now, your dad can't be with you," I said softly. "But Sandra and I are here to make sure you're okay. That's what matters most."

Dean's green eyes smoldered with a combination of anger and fear. "He'll come back for us. He always does.” he said confidently.

You exchanged a look with Sandra, her face masked in grief she carefully kept contained. "Of course," you whispered. "Until then, you'll be here together and I'll make it as close to your home as I can."

Dean said nothing, though the slope of his shoulders gave the feeling he would yield to it all—for the time being, at least.

Sandra cleared her throat and stood. "I'll let you all get settled. There's a lot in their file to go over, but we will take it one step at a time. I'll check in on you both tomorrow, okay?"

"Okay," you said, walking her to the door. "Drive safe, Sandra. And get some rest."

She nodded, her eyes lingering on the boys for a moment before she left.

As you walked back into the kitchen, Sam was nibbling at a cracker, his blanket tucked under his chin. Dean hadn't even snatched a snack, and watched you warily.

"How about a little tour?" you offered, trying to lighten things up. "I can show you your rooms."

Sam lifted a little, but Dean narrowed his eyes. "We'll share a room."

You hesitated. "You can if you want, but you each have your own room right now. They're right next to each other."

Dean looked at Sam, who nodded solemnly, as though the two of them had a whole conversation in that one glance. "We'll share," Dean repeated firmly.

"Okay," you said, adjusting easily. "Let's go check them out. You can decide how you want to set things up.

You led them upstairs, showing them the rooms. Sam's room was filled with soft blues and greens, the stuffed moose proudly sitting on his bed. His drawer was a dark brown and matched the small basket with toys. Dean's room was a little more grown-up with space-themed bedding, books carefully aligned on the nightstand. An astronaut book laid in the middle of his small bed.

Dean walked into Sam's room first, eyeing everything in it before giving a slight nod. "This one," he said, his tone bringing no argument.

Sam beamed, running to the bed and grabbing the stuffed moose. "Look, Dean!" Sam was absolutely enamored by the small brown moose. He shoved it in Dean’s face as he excitedly babbled to him in a string on nonsensical words.

Dean didn't say anything, didn’t even push him away, but his mouth curled up ever so slightly at the corners.

"Alright," you said, fighting a smile. "We'll get an extra mattress in here so you can both stay together. How's that?"

Dean nodded once, and Sam scrambled onto the bed, clutching his new toy tightly.

Standing there in the doorway and watching them, a resolution washed over you. It would be some time, patience, and much love, but you were going to see to it that these boys did get the safe and stable home they deserved. No matter what.

[adventuringblind]

Sharing is Caring

Lando Norris x Reader X Oscar Piastri

Genre: Smut

Request: no, this is purely practice and experimental writing

Summary: Lando has always lived by the rule that sharing is caring, this includes his girlfriend… and maybe also himself

Warnings: filthy smut, Lando and Reader are menaces, PinV, dom/sub dynamics, fingers, anal,

Notes: alright listen here, I am a whore for these men and I’m not to proud to admit that. This is experimental because I want to write a scene for my series where the group is three bisexual males a female, but have never attempted majority of what that would entail (more then one partner, actual gay sex and not whatever the hell that thing I wrote with Daniel was). Y’all are not allowed to judge me! My information is coming from Ao3 and I blame that on whatever this spirals into.

Masterlist

The following media is not intended for anyone under the age of 18. Minors please do not interact with this post!

You and Lando had been together since he started at McLaren. He was clueless and you were meant to be an assistant or intern or something along those lines. Both of you barely over the cusp of being adults.

You describe is as clueless and horny.

He says it was sexy and necessary.

You’d become fast friends, but then friends turned into benefits after a party one night.

Your were both buzzed but definitely coherent. You knew every part of your mind hand wanted him as he licked stripes up your neck. You knew at as he took off your clothes. And you definitely knew it while you came undone on his tongue.

Your situationship turned into a relationship soon after that. You couldn’t keep your stupid feelings for him tucked away in secret. You slipped when he was cleaning you up after you both went hard one night.

It was messy and you stumbled through your relationship clumsily, but soon you found your footing.

Lando had grown up on a common rule in his house: sharing is caring. Though he hated it then, now it seemed to be his motto.

You’d learned this after he had you tied to the bed posts and sent his saliva down your throat. He’d smirked at you and uttered the phrase.

Lando found it endearing how easily you submitted to him. Your entire job was being told what to do and when to do it so he thought you’d be less into it. He was sorely mistake.

He’d had you drunk on his presence alone. His voice the only thing filling your pretty little head. He got off on the power you gave him over you.

Lando had noticed one thing over his first year in formula 1: everyone treated him like an innocent child.

First it was Carlos. His teammate joked about him being a virgin still and Lando was fuming. He knew he should’ve watched his tongue but he could help himself.

“You could always come see for yourself that I’m not.”

That was the first time you’d invited someone in with you. Carlos lost a bit of his pride that night as his younger teammate and girlfriend practically had their way with him. And when Carlos asked him why he would share their bed with him, he’d only responded with “sharing is caring.”

Lando’s next teammate was older and even more frustrating. Daniel picked on the two of them relentlessly. Lando, being older now, held his tongue. But when he started saying things about you, vile derogatory things, he snapped.

“Say it again and I’ll make you regret it.”

Daniel showed up at their room that night expecting a mediocre threesome at best. What he got was the best damn blowjob of his life from you and Lando making him regret every word he’d said from behind.

Daniel also lost a bit of his pride that day and Lando couldn’t help but smirk every time Daniel shifted uncomfortably during the press conference.

You both teased Daniel that day with the “sharing is caring” line.

Now Lando has a teammate younger then him, and he’s a rookie no less.

Oscar is quieter then his other teammates and a stark contrast to Lando in personality.

It didn’t take long for Lando to catch on to his staring at you. The lovely blush that spread across his cheeks every time you touched his shoulder in a friendly way.

“I like him.” Announced Lando one morning.

“Who are we talking about exactly.”

“Oscar, I genuinely like him.”

You’d brought up the idea of adding a permanent third to your relationship. Both of you very open to the idea, just not with someone who likes to tease you two because your young.

Your not to prideful to admit that you’d both brought up Max as an option at one point.

“He’s very sweet and I think you go well together.” You admitted. “To bad he wouldn’t be into it.”

“What makes you say that.”

“Doesn’t peg me as the type.”

Lando choked on his breakfast. “I could make a dirty joke but I’m not going to.” He thinks for a moment. “I actually know he is because he got drunk one night after a hard race and admitted that he’d fuck us both.”

“Does he remember that?”

“Unfortunately no and I’d rather be the one fucking him anyways.”

“How about a game.” You propose. Lando can see the mischief in your eyes. “First to get him to crack wins.”

“Wins what exactly.”

“You already have me so bragging rights I suppose.”

~

It started small. Lando with his hand on Oscar’s knee during briefings, you making sexual comments underneath your breath causing him to choke on his air.

Then it escalated. You were wary that you might be making him uncomfortable, but as lando slips his hand on Oscars thigh, you can see the satisfaction on both their faces.

Ultimately Lando won in the end. The same stupid line he used in everyone coaxing Oscar into your hotel room.

“So we use the traffic light system for safe words just because it’s easy to use and remember.” Lando led Oscar into the room and sat him down on the bed.

He’d already had you in your undergarments and kneeling because since he won this was his prize. Not that you could protest anyways, you’d just make it harder on yourself later if you did.

Oscar was confused for a moment, his eyes raking over your half naked and waiting body while Lando went over some ground rules. “I didn’t realize you guys were into this stuff. Like- where you would need safe words, I guess.”

“Are you okay with that.”

Oscar hesitates for a moment. Unsure of how he should respond. “Can I be honest first?”

“Honesty is better now then us doing something to hurt you later.”

“It’s just that- I’ve done this before, but never with people I actually liked.”

“You like us?” You pipe. Genuine shock shooting across your face.

“It’s not something most people expect of me. Wanting to date more then one person feels weird to talk about I suppose.”

“But it’s not weird because we like you to.” You smile. Grateful that Lando isn’t shoving a gag in your mouth for speaking without permission.

“That being said,” Lando smirks, “how about we show just how much we like you, if you’ll let us?”

“Hopefully I can do the same for you.”

Oscar has suddenly found his confidence and pulls Lando down to his lips. It’s a hungry kiss. Their hands explore each other while your left on the ground. Although waiting obediently, you can’t help but squirm.

Lando pulls away and lands his gaze on you. “Why don’t we show Oscar what the pretty mouth of yours can do.”

You nod your head at him and crawl your way in between Oscar’s legs. Your fingers tugging at his waistband and eyeing him for permission. “I would be sad if you didn’t.” He chuckles. His fingers already finding your hair as you pull off his sweats and boxers in one go.

He’s already very hard and admittedly very pretty. Lando sets himself behind to Aussie and chuckles darkly. “Go ahead love.”

You take the permission and start with just your tongue. Attempting to wet his length before you take him down your throat.

The guttural moan that leaves Oscars lips only encourages you to keep going. You practically shake at you watch Lando strip both himself and the other male of their shirts.

“You can be rough with her, she likes it that way.”

The Aussie takes that as his cue. One hand forms a makeshift ponytail and the other lines himself up with your mouth. You barely get a chance to breathe before Oscar is shoving himself down your throat. You hollow your cheeks as he bucks his hips up with an unrelenting speed.

You hadn’t even noticed you left yourself in a waiting position. Oscar slows for just a moment as he sees the tears roll down your cheeks and the absent placement of your hand on his leg. He pulls your arm up and sets your hand on his thighs. “One tap to keep going, two to stop.”

You tap once and he’s back at slamming himself into your mouth.

Lando’s fingers are running up and down Oscars body, his mouth giving you the praise you so desire. “Good girl, just like that, isn’t she good Oscar?”

“Fuck- yes, so fucking good, your mouth is amazing.”

There isn’t much warning from him verbally, but the twitching in your mouth and sloppy movements tells you everything you need to know. He’s finishing in your mouth seconds later and you take every drop. Not that you had much choice to begin with anyways. Lando drops down to your level. You hold your mouth open for him, as it routine, and let him inspect. “So fucking good. Such a perfect slut for me.”

Oscars catching his breath. His body still twitching. “I think that’s the best blowjob someone had ever given me.” He pants

You smile proudly at your handiwork.

“It’s not the first time someone has said that.” Laughs Lando. He stands up again leaving you planted on the floor.

“They’d be stupid not to.”

You eye Lando expectantly, assuming he’ll want to make use of your mouth next. “Not tonight love, I have other plans.” He helps you up off the floor and lets you stretch your legs before tossing you on the bed. “I think you’ve done so well that you deserve to be rewarded.”

Oscar doesn’t hesitate to let his fingers dance across your body. He’s watching your face and looking for your most sensitive spots.

You haven't let out a single noise, and you're proud of yourself for it. For as much as Lando loved to tease, he had to admit you are really good at doing what you're told.

Lando is quick to remove the rest of your clothes while Oscar makes it his personal mission to make you moan. Something you intend on not doing. At least until your given permission.

With you now being exposed to the hungry eyes of the two males, you can't help but feel a tad overwhelmed.

Though it doesn't last long, though, as two mouths are hungrily sucking and nipping at the most sensitive parts of your breasts. Leaving marks as they go. You bite down so hard on your lip that it bleeds.

Lando can read you like a book. He knows you're focused on behaving and not enjoying the moment. "Moan for us love, tell us how good you're feeling." And with that, you're a whining mess.

Lando detaches himself from you. "You can return the favor if you want Oscar." He's smirking. Lando has always known exactly how to play this game. How to get then exactly where he wants them.

"Mmm think I'd rather take you."

You almost choke at the look the flashes across the Brits face. He's never been in this position before. Sure, he's had the other guys suck him off, but that was on his instruction. This is new territory.

Oscar is crawling over the top of you and sliding himself down Lando. The Brit is still too shocked for words.

He tests the limits, taking a few kitten licks over Lando. Then, makes direct eye contact and slips his mouth over the entirty of Landos dick.

It's weird to watch them. Normally you have a job. Without one you just go back to waiting.

Oscar pulls his mouth off for a moment and looks at you. "You know his body better than me. Why don't you show me where he likes being touched."

Oh this was definitely new territory. You didn't know what to do in this situation. You look at Lando for some sort of idea.

"Guess you get to listen to two people tonight." Then, without hesitation, you let your hands roam freely.

It's funny, you think, that Oscar had moved your hand earlier but now his hands were placed on wither side of the Brit.

To mimic the action he did earlier, you put his hand on Lando's thigh. He looks at you with appreciation and then continues taking apart the Brit underneath him.

You attach your lips and your teeth to places you know he's sensitive. Dragging your tongue from his pec all the way to his ear lobe.

And as his lips landed on yours, Lando was shaking underneath you. Oscar managed to suck him through his entire high, leaving him in an exhausted heap on the bed.

"Hey Lando, I think our girl has been waiting patiently, yeah?"

The was he says our has you trembling. They are both eyeing you now, and you have no idea what to do.

Lando reaches for your frame and pulls you into his lap. His fingers lazily dance over the one place you ache to be touched.

You sigh as he slips a singular finger into you, moving in and out so slow you think you might cry.

Oscar leaves kisses all over your thighs, working his way up to your needy heat. Lightly flicking your clit with his tongue when he reaches the top.

The two boys are steadily picking up the pace. Lando is gradually adding more fingers. The coil is getting closer to snapping.

Your writhing and panting in their hold. Oscar has his arms hooked under your knees to keep you from moving away. Lando's free arm is pressed firmly under your chest. His teeth sucking marks into your neck and collarbone.

"Please." You beg.

"Please what?"

"Please- fuck, can I come?"

"Go ahead, you've been doing so well, your such a good girl."

The coil snaps, and the ecstasy floods every inch of your body. Your body spasms, flailing your limbs in every direction.

The boys hold you firmly in place, determind to ride every second of your high out of you.

You're left panting as you come down. Sweat now glossing over all three of you.

"Wanna keep going?"

You and Lando look at Oscar. His face was completely unfazed. Who know the Aussie could be so insatiable.

"You know, we don't normally do this, but if y/n wants to, I'm okay if you fuck her."

Your mouth drops in shock for the umpteenth time that night. Lando had never let anyone else fuck you and you were okay with it.

Again, new territory.

Oscar looks over at you. His eyes questioning. "Or I'm very willing to take you both at the same time."

Good grief. The stupidly shy bashful Australian boy has the sex drive of an animal in heat.

Normally, it's Lando in charge, but there seems to be a change. He actually likes Oscar. This isn't some attempt at teaching someone a lesson or proving a point. This is a genuine attempt at inviting him in.

You were glad that you got to keep the spot on the bed. More on the edge of the bed now, but still the bed nonetheless.

Oscar is still lapping at your skin like it's a drug. You can feel the marks covering your skin from where he's been sucking at you with his teeth.

Normally, the two of you didn't use lube unless it was an occasion like this. Even then, it wasn't much. Lando thought is would be amazing to use the entire bottle over the three of you. Because apparently, the sweat isn't enough.

Oscar's moans are steadily increasing as Lando continues to work his ass. The Austrian is using you as a human gag to hopefully keep his volume at a reasonable pitch.

Lando likes a stripe onto the back of the Male in front of him. "Do you think you're ready?" He's looking at both of you for confirmation.

It all happens far too quickly for your liking. The fact that all your bodies fit together like puzzle pieces. The way the pace was a speed you'd yet to experience (how these boys could snap their hips so fast was beyond you).

Oscar has practically fallen on top of you at this point. Lando is doing his best to keep the Australians full weight off of you. He's not even moving anymore. Lando is moving in and out of him and you by proxy.

It's a weird feeling having the weight of two body's between your hips. Your close and desperately chasing your second high of the night.

Unlucky is the only word that comes to mind as Oscar and Lando reach theirs in sync. The feelings of watching them together are damn near indescribable, and it makes you wish you joined them.

You are also someone who likes to please. This means that faking it seems like the best option.

As you'll soon come to find out, this is far from the a good plan.

Both Oscar and Lando are panting and trying to get resitiated. Both of them eyes you cautiously. Then they look at eachother, then at you, then eachother, until finally they say something.

"Pretty sure I know a fake orgasm when I see one." Comments Oscar.

Lando was unfortunately not able to see you very well, so not only is he glad Oscar was able to read you, but now he's received to know he can see when you're obviously trying to please.

You feel yourself flush and curl your knees over your chest. Guilt? Shame? Lust? All at once? There are too many feelings for your foggy brain right now.

"You should know better, love. Did you think we weren't going to be happy with you?"

You feel yourself slipping into the lovely fuzzy head space and the sound of Lando's almost condescending tone.

"I don't know, Oscar. I think now we need to make sure she can be honest with her body." Lando smirks at the Australian whos still out of breath and supporting himself of the Brit.

Their eyes find yours, and you're met with that hungry look once again. At this point, you've resigned that this night is never going to end, and if you're being perfectly honest, you don't want it too.

"Color?"

"Green."

Then they're pouncing on top of you like they've caught themselves dinner. Hands are everywhere and nowhere all at once.

It's hours later when you're spent. They drew at least five more out of you. All in various different ways.

Now came the most intresting part.

You're a mess lying on the bed. Limbs a twitching pile of mush. Your hair stuck to your skin. Eyes glossed over and head heavy with a thick fog. So deep in your damn head space.

Their mixed words of shame and praise somehow set every one of your nerves alight. You'd been calling both of them a title usually reserved for just Lando, but he hadn't corrected you.

You whine as the pull away. Your body already missing their touch.

"Gotta get you cleaned up, beautiful. Don't want to you to get sick."

A slurred 'yes sir' makes its way out of your mouth. Other words are far too difficult right now.

"Mmm need to know you're here with me."

"I'm here, I think."

Lando is mildly impressed that the two boys managed to put you so deep into the blissful state of mind. His hands stroke your stick thighs as he hums words of praise. Slipping in the occasional gentle kiss to your hand.

Oscar comes back cleaned up first. Still without a shirt, but his sweats are back on. "So aftercare, is there a routine you guys normally have or does it very? Do you want me to go?"

Oscar doesn't miss the frown of your face when he suggests he leaves. "Stay. Please." Again, it's mumbled and slurred, but both boys can tell what you're trying to say.

"No worries, I'm right here." Oscare slides into the bed next to you.

"Wanna stay with her, and I'll clean up? I'll get some rags and things as well. Normally, our third has left without helping me take care of her. Had to take her to the doctor once after Daniel bruised her throat with his hands, and she couldn't talk for a week. So I won't lie, this is new."

"Well I like you both and if you'll have me I'd like to stay around awhile."

There was a knowing look shared between all three of you that even your your state you recognized. Oscar wanted to stay, and you and Lando wanted him to. For more than just the sex.

Lando tossed Oscar a wet rag. To cool damp feeling of the towel felt nice on your skin, making you shower with the sensation.

Lando came back a few minutes later, freshend up, and a hair brush in hand. He slides in behind you and gently threads the comb through your locks.

Eventually, you're able to make it to the bathroom on your own, albeit with shaky legs. Lando gave you one of his shirts to change into with the promise of Oscar bringing some of his clothes for you the next time around.

You're still a little shocked that he wanted a next time.

Carlos had admittedly come back for a few more rounds, but there were never any strings attached. Daniel came back, but that always felt competitive. There was consent and communication involved with both parties but it never felt this... intimate.

The two boys made sure you had water and food, so you didn't feel sick after all the energy you'd exerted. Then you slid into bed between them. Sleep hitting all of you in minutes.

The three of you got away with a hidden relationship for about four months until Lando slipped up in an interview. Your first paddock appearance with the two after that was mildly controversial, but they were quick to shut down invasive reporters and toxic fans.

It was a press conference that Lando finally got to use his signature line.

"Lando, you've recently announced your relationship with your teammate and longtime girlfriend. What sparked this into effect?"

"Well you know what they say, sharing is caring."

You and Oscar can only laugh at the Brit and his stupid catchphrase.

[canthelpit0]

Enemies (With Benefits) PT3

Pairing: Cold!Chris x Reader

Word count: 3.9k +

Summary: Chris and reader have always been enemies ever since they’ve known each other. neither knew why they had this burning feeling in their gut. So one day they decide to fuck it out. Until, eventually doing it regularly

Warnings: language, smut, mentions of weed, (implied) RichKid!Reader, jealous!Chris, pet names (cherry), choking, humiliation, heavy degradation, sub!Chris, dom!Reader, I think that’s all.

(A/N: I got this idea from this request. Tysm for the idea & inspiration. Hope this is good.)

PT1 PT2 PT3 PT4 FINAL

I haven’t talked to Chris ever since that party.

wich wouldn’t be too shocking, since we hate each other. but I’ve been ignoring him fully. I wasn’t even responding to his mocking or arguing with him.. just…

The entire situation of us, two people who hate each other so much, and have for so long, hooking up, is extremely toxic.

And I’m self aware, I know that.

It just never bothered me before... But he was treating me like shit. And I’m done with it.

It’s been a week now, and I don’t think he cares that much honestly. At first he went on like normal making witty remarks trying to start arguments and disagreements, but since I didn’t respond he started to do it less and less.

It feels so refreshing not to have a headache everyday.

Only con is, that we share most classes. So i have to see his face all the time. Tho I just ignore him.

At first I saw him walking a round with charlotte, and honestly I don’t know why she is still talking to him after almost hooking up.

I don’t know what he was trying to achieve with that. But if the point was to make me jealous he is so bad at it.

I’ve been talking to Ethan a lot though.

And like I thought, he’s a nice guy, and he always shares his weed.

Even though I have enough friends, most of them are ‘lunchbox friends’. Well except for Matt and Nick, but I can’t really talk to them often considering I’m trying to avoid their brother.

I feel like most of my friends are fake. Wich they are.

We’ll talk and have fun in school, but if I walk past them at the mall they will act like they’ve never seen me in their entire life.

Ethan though. Ethan is nice. His skater friends not so much. Well I guess they’re just critical. After all I’m not any type of alternative at all, and I frankly, don’t know how to skate.

But at least they respect me. Probably because I’m wealthy but ih well.

Ethan and I haven’t done anything.

Other than kiss.

I walk out of history class, a class I share with Ethan. We walk down the hallway side to side.

When we get to my locker- wich is only two away from Chris’ -I unlock it to put my books in it.

All this time Ethan had been complaining about how his next class would be math and whatnot. I had noticed that Ethan was skipping less and less classes now. I never realized how many classes we shared because he was always skipping. But now he wasn’t. And the lack of tobacco in his system was making him itchy and I could tell.

Once you got to know him he actually got quite talkative.

I look over my shoulder to look at Ethan but see Chris in the corner of my eye.

Chris…

Chris.

Without thinking I grab the collar of Ethan’s sweatshirt roughly crashing my lips onto his.

Ethan, having not expected it, doesn’t do anything for a moment, before he kisses back.

Pushing me against the lockers behind me roughly. His tongue finds its way into my mouth as we start to make out.

In the middle of the hall.

My arms wrap around his neck holding him close.

He was kissing me like i was the only source of oxygen. And it felt good. I could tell he liked kissing me, and he wasn’t bad at it.

“Gonna suck face in the hallways now too?”

I pull away slightly. My breath was coming out in short and harsh pants.

I ignore the voice. Chris’ voice.

…Chris

Instead I stare back into Ethan’s eyes. I try to focus on the way his hands feel on my waist as he holds me against the lockers.

His grip isn’t too tight, but it was firm. His forehead pressed against mine as I stare back into his dark eyes.

“Disgusting.”

I look over at him at the disgusted tone. I scoff. My eyes lock onto Chris’ and it feels like electricity shoots up my spine.

Ethan looks a lot like Chris, but he doesn’t have the blue eyes.

The blue eyes that I-

I pause all the thoughts leaving my brain as I hear Chris let out an irritated huff.

And suddenly the feeling of Ethan’s hands on my clothed skin feels too hot. Even tho he unironically resembles Chris a lot, he isn’t Chris.

And god when did my standard become: Chris.

I tare my eyes away from Chris’ gaze. My eyes locking back onto Ethan’s dark eyes.

While Chris’ seem cold and icy, Ethan’s are warm and welcoming. But I don’t want to be welcome and the warmth seems too hot.

It feels like going out in a hoodie on the hottest summer day.

-suffocating

“Fuck off Chris. You’re not any better”

I say to Chris, while staring back at Ethan. But before I can hear Chris reply the bell rings.

I let out a breath. Out of the corner of my eyes I see Chris slam his locker harshly and leave. And once he does I leave a peck on Ethan’s lips.

I slide out of his grip chuckling.

“Imma go now pretty boy, I’ll see you later” I smile at Ethan.

I quickly take out my stuff for my English class and speed walk past him.

★ ★

I’m late to my class but I can’t help but not care.

I share this class with none of them.

Not Ethan, not Chris, not charlotte.

Wich was a relief. Because I don’t know what that was. Ethan has never done anything to make me feel uncomfortable.

Chris had.

So why am I comparing them.

Why do I feel like the lack of just simple bickering with Chris is giving me withdrawal? Why does his glare burn through my soul? Why does it feel wrong being near Ethan when Chris was there? And why the tell did it feel like Ethan’s touch burned?

Why did I want Ethan to be Chris?

Well no let me rephrase that.

Why did I want Chris to be nice to me.

He’s always been rude and mean. I knew what I was getting into. And I liked it, and it felt great. So why am I missing the attitude.

Am I that much of an attention whore?

My eyes trail around the room. I take in the whiteboard none of the words written on it register in my head. I look over the students, mostly only seeing the back of their heads, since I sat all the way in the back

I’ve never felt so loved, alone and hated at the same time.

I know Ethen likes me, and it feels like I’m using him for escapism. To distract myself. I’m leading him on..

I feel so alone. Literally the only people I would usually tell, are the brothers of the problem.

And I’ve felt hatred so intense from Chris. And I know he hates me, and I know that’ll never change

★ ★

He days seem to pass so fast, yet so slow. And at this point I don’t know what I’m doing.

I stick to Ethan. Sometimes I’ll make out with him other times I’ll just stay close to him. Especially when Chris is around.

And I can see that he is getting more and more pissed off.

I’ve been wearing more revealing clothes. Atleast as revealing as it can get with the dress code and all. Mocking the fact that Chris can’t do anything about it.

I was hanging out at home. Alone since my siblings were once again at a sleepover. It wasn’t like they were always at one. And I feel like they’re too young to party and I trust them.

I trust that they aren’t lying to me.

Anyway, since they’re only one year apart they share some friends. So they both went to a sleepover birthday party from one of them.

I’m sitting on the couch, for once enjoying the pice and quiet. I have a movie playing, but I’m drowning more in my own thoughts than watching the movie.

I pause when I suddenly hear the doorbell ring.

I think that maybe it could be my siblings? No neither can drive yet.

Maybe it’s a package. Did I order something? But no it’s midnight they wouldn’t still be delivering orders at midnight..

I get up anyway trading over to the door.

I mean if it’s a killer and I go out this way…. Oh well.

My eyes meet Chris’ as soon as I open the door.

I go to slam the door in his face, but he catches it roughly throwing it open.

“Cherry, please” he huffs. He walks in his sharp eyes trained on me. Chris closes the front door behind him.

“Chris get out” I sigh. I purse my lips glaring right back at him.

If he stays i don’t know for how much longer I can control myself. I feel like I’m having withdrawal symptoms. I miss the way he hates me.

“Cherry, listen” he snaps slightly. I raise an eye cockily. I shift on my feet and cross my arms. My glare doesn’t let up.

But Chris is looking at me different. He doesn’t glare, he looks at me with… desperation?

“What?” I snap back harshly.

“Cherry, please? Literally give me anything?”

Oh, so he is as desperate as he looks.

“Give you what?” I play dumb. My arms stay crossed. I keep looking back at him, his pathetic state only serving to piss me off more.

He can’t even drive, how the fuck did he get here. Nobody knows were fucking so he probably didn’t ask Matt. But Ubers are expensive at this time.

“You know what I mean. Cherry, I’ll literally get on my knees right now and beg.” He says that slightly jokingly. He doesn’t actually think he’ll have to go that far, but if he needs to he will.

“So, get on your knees than, Chris” I mock back, thinking that he wouldn’t actually do it.

But before I can blink he’s going down on his knees right in front of me.

I raise my eyebrow staring down at him.

He dramatically puts his hands together making a begging motion. “Please, please, please cherry??”

I look down at him. He looks so cute when his eyes don’t look like they want to bore through me.

He actually looks desperate and needy right now.

I know I said I wouldn’t hook up with him, and I’ve been doing good at ignoring him for almost a whole month. But god he looks so cute, so… god

I thread my fingers through his messy long hair. His wavy brown hair. And I suddenly pull him up. He winces at the harsh treatment, but he lowkey deserves it for being an ass.

I hate how he stands just a little bit taller next to me.

I crash my lips on his and it feels like fire works go off. I’ve kissed Ethan so many times these past few weeks but it never felt this good.

My arms wrap around his neck. My fingers play with the hair at the nape of his neck. Chris’ hands instinctively go to my waist. He holds me flush against him and I feel so comfortable under his touch.

I pull off of the kiss scoffing. My hand wraps around his neck harshly. I pull him down to my eye level while slightly choking him, and he just lets me.

“Hm? Did you not get your dick sucked by someone else?” I mock him, my tone is harsh and condescending.

“Did she not do it as good as I did?”

“Don’t flatter yourself” he grumbles under his breath. He has the audacity to roll his eyes at me.

My grip on his neck tightens and he lets out a sharp breath, one that almost sounds like a moan.

“And yet you still came to my house, got on your knees and begged for me?”

He falls silent at the harsh words. He purses his lip staring back at me with what looks like shame in his eyes.

I move him harshly, changing the place where we stand so I’m close to the door. I harshly squeeze his neck before letting go.

“Go to the living room, I’ll be right there” I nod to the living room behind him. Chris eagerly nods before going to the living room.

I sprint up the stairs and with in a minute I’m back again.

“You’re so fucking pathetic you know that?” I glare at him while towering over his sitting figure.

I go to slowly straddle his lap. His back is pressed against the back of the couch. He looks up at me with ever so pleading eyes. Looking at me like he was desperate, wich he was.

“Such a pathetic bitch. Going to your enemies house and begging to be fucked” I say harshly. My grip goes back to his neck as I choke him slightly. Not enough to actually choke him, but enough to make him lightheaded.

“Sorry, sorry” he closes his eyes for a moment before opening them again.

His eyes meet mine and he looks purely submissive now. It’s funny to me how he is so needy. Maybe I need to ignore him and make him submissive more often, because I like this sight.

I pull him closer by his neck kissing him again. His hands ghost over my sides not daring to actually touch.

I pull away abruptly, listening to his whine.

“Undress.” I says simply standing in front of him.

While I watch him undress I turn off the TV fully. The movie had been paused, but I hadn’t paid attention to it anyway.

He does as I say. He slips off all of his clothing. He’s left fully nude in front of me for me to look at.

He squirms under my harsh gaze. But he is turned on. It’s obvious by his rock hard dick. It’s already red and swollen, leaking pre cum, looking for some release.

I pull out the vibrator from my pj pants pockets. I had gotten it from upstairs. Chris never let me use it on him, unless he was being really submissive.

And since he was, I might as well have fun.

I press it to his tip gently, not turning it on anything yet. I look back at him. I capture his mouth in a kiss. And then turn the vibrator on. He actually flinches at the sudden stimulation.

The kiss is messy, mainly because Chris can’t focus. But The vibrator is literally on the lowest level.

I pull away from the kiss listening to Chris whines and moans. He keeps his hands at his sides. He knows better than to try to get it away. But he looks like he’s itching to just push it away, overwhelmed by the amount of pleasure.

“You look so stupid right now” I chuckle.

I put the vibrator on the secound lowest level. But that alone is high enough for Chris to physically hold himself back from flinching. His moans and whines turn into breathless whimpers.

“Answer.” I scoff. And before I knew it I slap him across the face harshly. The clap echos through the room.

I was letting my pent up enger out, but Chris was enjoying it. As soon as I slap him, his mouth falls open in a silent moan.

Chris didn’t seem like the type. But he had a raging degradation kink.

The sting of the slap traveled right to his dick. His length was twitching in my hand. He was sinking further and further into the couch. He was enjoying this.

“I know-“ he breathes out. But I cut him off by turning the vibrator on higher.

His body practically jolts forward in pleasure. He tries not to come right then and there.

His hand grabs my wrist, the one that was holding the vibrator. “I’m close-“

“I don’t care Chris. If you come now you’ll have to go through the rest overstimulated.” I shrug. Then I abruptly turn the vibrator to its highest setting

He tries to curl his body in on himself but I push him back. And within seconds hes coming all over himself.

I keep the vibrator situated on his tip. I watch how he stays rock hard. His dick starts twitching as his whines get louder and needier.

He weekly pushes my hand off. But after A moment I take it off fully.

While he heaves for breath, I start to undress. I straddle him. When he feels me sink down on his tip his hands go to my waist out of instinct.

I sigh at the feeling. We haven’t fucked in what feels like ages. The stretch hurts. But still I purposefully clench around him to make it even tighter.

His eyes are clenched shut. He’s a moaning mess.

“Chris open your fucking eyes” I slap him again. His eyes flutter open.

“You look so cute all submissive” I taunt. I’m only half way down and I’m struggling. But he doesn’t need to know.

Before he can whine in answer I ram myself down. I wince at the feeling. But Chris’ moans are louder.

I start to gently bounce on him. But he is growing overstimulated quick.

I keep on doing that, my glare focused on Chris. Chris’ eyes shut tightly for a moment. He breaths harshly.

His eye meet mine again. He looks purely submissive. His head tilted down slightly, mouth slightly agape.

“Handsome boy, all needy to get fucked like this hm?” I wait for him to answer but he just whines and moans in response to my movements.

“Can you talk baby?” I ask, huffing. I grab his face, slightly squishing his cheek together with one hand. “Hm? You like getting fucked like this?”

He gasps when I speed up the pace. He blinks a few times, halfheartedly throwing back his head.

Another slap echos through the living room. His head is turned to the side his eyes wide. His mouth is agape as he tries to hold it together. “I told you to fucking talk Chris”

One of his hands goes to his cheek. He grits his teeth trying to formulate words.

But before he can, my hand goes to his neck gently squeezing as I start to ride him harder.

“So good- fuck-“ he breaths out harshly.

His eyes are half lidded. The rough treatment only serves to turn him on even more.

“Yeah, you like that?” I scoff. My hand snakes from his throat to his neck. I pull him in for a sloppy kiss. He can barely focus on anything, every sense in him overwhelmed.

I pull away from the kiss. My hands both move to his shoulders, To use as leverage to ride him harder.

Chris throws back his head, his eyes shutting. He only gets increasingly louder. My movements get harsher and more relentless.

I take one of his hands from my waits and position it at my clit. “Rub it” I demand. And as soon as I do he starts to rub it vigorously.

I clench around him, feeling my release wash over me. Chris’ hand on my hip gets harsher and harsher. I keep moving though, until I feel him twitch.

I quickly pull off an hover over him.

I sit down on his thighs, then start to jerk him off harshly. I put the vibrator back to his tip and turn it on.

Chris’ body harshly jerks forward. I put a hand on his chest and push him back.

And within a few seconds Chris is coming all over himself again.

We both pant as I stare at him. I keep sitting on his thighs as I watch him for a moment.

I lean down and leave a peck on his forehead. I pull him into me. My arms wrap around his neck, putting his face into the crook of my neck.

I pull away from him and slowly get up off of him. I pull on my panties, and pj pants again. As well as my top. Quickly getting dressed again.

I really don’t want to, but he needs to go. As much as I missed him, I made it a point to not hook up with him.

And now that I have, I might as well treat him like he treats me.

“You have to leave.”

He pause looking at me questioningly, It’s like he hadn’t expected me to tell him that. Like he expected us to just hang out and cuddle or something.

Which is not going to happen.

“What?” He questions, his tone sounding blunt, almost harsh.

“Christopher, I want you to leave” I say more sternly. I overpronounce every word to make sure his stupid brain understands it.

“Why” he scoffs frustrated. He stares at me like I’m crazy. Like I’m crazy for telling him to leave when leaving is literally all he ever does.

“Christoper.” I grit out my tone more harsh and serious.

I can’t help the loud scoff that I let out. I walk to the nearest bathroom. I grab a towel halfheartedly dampening it.

I walk back to the living room, where Chris sits mildly stunned. I throw the damp towel on him watching as he awkwardly cleans himself.

“What’s up with you” he sasses me. His gaze is judging.

“I hate you, Chris. I always will.” My words are harsh. And the more I talk the more I can see him narrow his eyes at me in anger, growing more upset by the second.

“Just because we fuck, doesn’t mean I like you. You’re a shitty person.” I take in a deep breath. I feel like I could say worse than that.

“I hate you, and you should leave.” I purse my lips. I watch his expression shift. His jaw clenches, and I can see that he looks like he is about to blow up on me.

The withdrawal symptoms of not fucking me were too much, but now he feels the rage. He remembers why he hated me so much. I can literally feel the hatred and anger radiating off of him.

His already sharp jawline only seems accentuated by the way he clenches it. He swallows his Adam’s apple bobbing.

Chris’ eyes narrow at me, but he just gets up and puts his clothes back on. He looked furious.

I hate him, so why would I let him stay, why would I forgive him. He got the Sex he wanted, so why was he so pissy about leaving?

Now fully dressed he walks closer to me, not touching me.

“What’s wrong with you?” He scoffs. His mood was now definitely sour.

“That’s how you always treat me Chris. Now leave” I snap back at him, getting just as angry as him.

“Okay cherry, have it that way” he gives me a halfhearted sarcastic nod. He then brushes past me to the door, opening it, before a loud slam echoes through the house.

I had sworn to not hook up with him anymore. And if I did that I’d treat him like he treats me. But why do I feel so shitty now?

Can’t a girl have sex and then he all giddy and want to cuddle?

Yes but Chris’ presence irks me. It’s disgusting. He is disgusting.

Masterlist

A/N: requests are always open. pls give me ideas on how to continue this <3 comment if u wanna be on the taglist

‼️please don’t copy my work/idea‼️

Taglist: @muwapsturniolo , @sturnad , @iluvm4ttsturni0l0 , @evie-sturns , @me09love , @fratbrochrisgf , @spideylovin , @chrissgirlsstuff , @stunza , @whicked-hazlatwhore , @sturniooolos

[noodlesarecheese]

So Watcher is launching a Dropout (it's not called Dropout but they're clearly using the same template format platform thing idk what it's called, and the same pricing structure), and the reaction so far has been wildly different than what I remember from Dropout's launch. I was curious about why that was or if I was just misremembering the Dropout launch, so I went back to the Dropout launch video to compare them and I think I can see where some of the difference is coming from.

If you want to make the comparison yourself: Watcher's Video, Dropout's Video.

I wanna clarify first though that this isn't a knock against Watcher or the fans who are reacting one way or another or anything like that, I genuinely am just fascinated with how different the reactions are to what seems to be the same business decision. This also isn't a 'wow watcher sucks and dropout is so much better' I'm just using them for comparison because they did the same thing with different results. ALSO this isn't about the business decision itself, just the presentation! Disclaimers out of the way, here's the analysis.

Title and Thumbnail So the Watcher.tv announcement video is titled "Goodbye Youtube" and the thumbnail is Ryan, Shane, and Steven sitting on a couch looking serious, with a dark background. That really makes it seem like they're quitting (which, ok, they are quitting youtube but not quitting quitting). Viewers are already primed to be upset, and it's easier to go from upset to angry than upset to excited, curious, or neutral.

Compare to the dropout announcement video: "How the Internet is Ruining Comedy" - inline with other collegehumor video titles, might make you curious. Thumbnail - Big News! with Sam smiling and a bright background. We know its big news, but he looks happy, and the exclamation point let's us know they want us to be excited. Viewers are primed to be curious and excited.

Tone The Watcher announcement has 2 main tones. The first half is very sentimental, almost sad or wistful at times, and while there are parts that veer into pride at achievements, it's mostly bittersweet and sentimental. The second half is a bit more uplifting, but still quite serious. It reminded me of a tech announcement, like when they introduce the new iphone or something like that. Very professional, sleek, and serious, which isn't automatically a bad thing! But I do think that's not the vibe a decently-sized chunk of the audience expected or wanted. Many people watch Watcher for the cast's dynamic with each other, humor, and the more relaxed/conversational/friendly feel that most of the series have.

Compare to dropout - excited and comedic tone. Still professional, but also fits the expectations of the viewers. People watch collegehumor for the humor (it was in the name, after all). They also poke a bit of fun at themselves, which lightens the mood, shows self-awareness, and alleviates some of the bad feelings about paywalling.

Focus The Watcher announcement focuses a lot on the creative journey of the cast and company, as well as how this move will benefit them. Which isn't a bad thing, that's actually quite interesting! The problem here, I think, is actually more about what isn't here - a solid explanation of how this will also benefit the viewers and why the viewers should be excited. There's a brief description of one new show, and the promise that existing shows will get an upgrade, but we weren't given many specific details about how they'll be improved, and there's only one new show to tempt us into subscribing. Some people will be excited for that, some people won't, and some people will be excited but not enough to subscribe. Having 2 or 3 series (even if it's 1 fleshed out plus a few teasers of what's in production or what is being planned) plus some more details about how existing shows will be improved would've helped. Without that, it really does seem like it'll just be the same stuff viewers were getting for free, but now paywalled, rather than new and exciting stuff. That makes a big difference. I think with the fans not getting as much focus, this also led to some (accidental, I hope) hurt feelings. Based on what I've seen from fan reactions, all the talk about hitting the peak of what they can do on youtube and wanting more, translated for many people to 'youtube isn't enough' which became 'you (the current viewers) aren't enough.' Which I don't think was their intent! But I also don't think fans are wrong for feeling hurt by that.

Compare to dropout: They clearly explain how the move will benefit fans, and reassure viewers that existing content will stay where it is, and only new content will be behind the paywall. (Watcher clarified this too, but in a comment. It's not in the video itself, which is a huge problem.) They include clips of several new (at the time) series that would be premiering on dropout, including things that specifically could not be made on youtube (due to weed, violence, and sexual humor), so the reason for the shift is clear to the audience.

Advertisers Both videos contain the sentiment that being monetarily successful on youtube means working to appease the advertisers, and that over time what the advertisers want and what the creators want drifts further and further apart, putting strain on the creators.

However, I think the message gets lost a bit in the Watcher vid. Instead, it leaves viewers with the idea that the main problem is just ads are annoying instead of advertisers putting constraints on content. I'm not even sure what the specific constraints are for watcher, because they didn't give any examples. And the focus on ads being annoying leaves viewers frustrated because people typically either don't mind ads or they already have an ad blocker.

Timing and Size Okay, this isn't exactly about presentation, but it is still a factor that impacts perception so I'm tackling it. And I'm actually going to do dropout first. CollegeHumor launched dropout in September 2018. Pre-pandemic, but also pre-Sam Reich as CEO. The company was still owned by IAC. It was a Company, and while it wasn't huge it wasn't tiny either. So launching dropout was a Company Decision, a Business Strategy. Some people were upset about, but it wasn't a personal betrayal (generally, anyways). If I remember correctly, this was also not a high point for the company. They kinda needed dropout to do well to keep things running smoothly (which is why they shut it down and sold it to Sam just 1 1/2ish years later), so the sudden shift made sense.

Watcher Entertainment is a company, but it doesn't feel like one. Ryan, Shane, and Steven own and operate things, but they're also the faces, and they're youtubers. Which makes every business decision they make feel more personal to viewers, especially those who have been watching for a long time. They've also seemingly been doing well on youtube, which makes it more difficult for viewers to understand why the sudden change is happening now. They do talk a bit about it, about the company expanding and wanting to do things that advertisers don't like (which I've already covered). However, mostly the choice to start a streaming platform is framed as 'the next big step' without much clarification on why it's the next big step. Plus, it's post-pandemic, and a lot of people are still struggling financially with the ripple effects of that. Yes, $6 isn't a wild amount of money, but there have been some months where $5 absolutely meant the difference between paying all my bills or not, and I know I'm not the only one. This, coupled with a lack of clarity about why exactly they're doing this, leads to fans feeling hurt, betrayed, bitter, and frustrated.

Now, presentation and framing isn't everything. No matter how perfect your announcement is, some people are still going to be upset. It's a big change, of course people will be upset! But I do think a more careful presentation would've alleviated some of the hurt and anger that fans are feeling. While I do think a lot of the reaction we're seeing is due to the decision, I think (based on what I've seen) that some of it is also based on the poor communication in the video itself, and that could've been avoided!

So I'm gonna get a little speculative and describe what I would've done. In this hypothetical, they've decided to launch the streaming service and brought me on just for the announcement.

Firstly, switch the title out. If they're married to Goodbye Youtube then add a (and hello...?) after so it's at least obvious they aren't fully quitting. The dark color scheme of the thumbnail fits their regular vibe, but they want everyone to be excited so they should look excited. Next, let's lighten the tone up. Being proud of what they've done so far is great, but we don't need the sentimental music and bittersweetness. Remember, the goal is to get viewers excited about what come's next - so let's focus on what actually comes next! Talk about specific show plans and mention why they wouldn't work on youtube. Then, take some time to reassure the fans. Predict a few likely worries and address them in the video. Acknowledge that it's a big change, that it will take time to get used to, and that not everyone will be onboard, and let the fans know that it's ok if they aren't onboard.

Like I said, this wouldn't fix everything. There are a few differences in between dropout and watcher that don't have anything to do with presentation. Dropout launched with primarily new shows rather than new seasons of existing shows, and they continued uploading to youtube relatively regularly in addition to the content behind the paywall, which I do think went a long way to keeping fans happy. At this point it's unclear if watcher will do either of those or not. But, while I don't think it would fix everything, I do think improved communication in the announcement would've helped.