#he's not going to be seeing this for a WHILE but uh let me have this okay
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Hypnotized
Lando Norris x hypnotherapist!Reader
Summary: in which Lando becomes intimately familiar with the professional (and not so professional) benefits of hypnosis
Warnings: 18+ content, dubious consent (though Lando is very much a willing participant), and temporary mindbreak
You lean back in your plush leather chair, taking a sip of tea as you look over the notes for your next client. Lando Norris — a rising star of Formula 1, seeking help to improve his performance on the track. You’ve worked with elite athletes before, but there’s something about this case that intrigues you.
The door opens and he strides in, radiating youthful confidence. “Ms. Y/L/N, thanks for seeing me on such short notice.”
“Please, have a seat Lando. And call me Y/N,” you reply with a warm smile. “I have to admit, when your team reached out, I was surprised. Most drivers come to me later in their careers when the mental side gets tougher.”
He settles onto the couch across from you. “Yeah, well, I’m a bit of an overachiever,” he grins cheekily. “I figure I should get every advantage I can while I’m young.”
You can’t help but be charmed by his boyish cockiness. “Fair enough. So, walk me through what’s bringing you here. What are you hoping hypnotherapy can do for you?”
Lando scratches his head, suddenly looking a bit sheepish. “To be honest, I’m not totally sure? The team psychologists have helped with some stuff like visualization and confidence building. But I feel like there’s still … I don’t know, another level I can’t quite tap into?”
He pauses, cheeks reddening slightly. “I may have also heard some … rumors about hypnosis helping drivers get, uh, in the zone in a different way.”
You raise an eyebrow at that. “I see. And what sort of zone were you hoping to reach exactly?”
“Just, you know, being totally focused. Primed to perform at my absolute peak,” he answers quickly, not meeting your eyes. “Eliminate any lingering doubts or hesitation.”
“Mmmhmm,” you murmur, watching his fidgeting increase. It’s clear there’s more to this, perhaps some adolescent fantasy driven by locker room talk. You decide to have a bit of fun drawing it out.
“Well, maximum focus and confidence under extreme stress is certainly one of the primary benefits of hypnotherapy for athletes. Though of course, there can be … other effects depending on the suggestions given.”
Lando’s eyes flick up to meet yours, pupils dilating with obvious intrigue. “Other effects? Like what?”
You shrug lightly. “Oh, lowered inhibition, increased susceptibility to instructions, compulsions to obey ...” You trail off, letting the implications hang in the air. “But I’m sure whatever rumors you’ve heard are just overblown exaggerations.”
His Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows hard. “R-right, of course. So, uh, how would we go about getting me in that totally focused zone?”
You can scarcely suppress a grin — he’s hooked now, curiosity and hormones getting the better of him. “Well, first we’d need to get you in a deeply relaxed state, open and receptive to suggestions. I’d start with some deep breathing exercises, maybe have you focus on the sound of my voice ...”
Unconsciously, Lando’s eyelids grow heavier as you speak in a low, soothing tone. “Breath slowly deepening, muscles going deliciously loose and limp ...”
He blinks hard, shaking his head minutely. “Sorry, what was I saying?”
“Don’t worry,” you assure him. “A little taste of just how quickly you might respond. Hypnotic states can sneak up quite easily when you’re not prepared for them.”
Lando swallows again, but there’s no hiding the interest smoldering in his eyes now. “That’s … good to know. So, uh, once I was in this state, what sort of suggestions would you give?”
You lean forward, holding his gaze. “Anything you need, darling. Perhaps prompts to fill your mind with dizzying focus — a white hot, all-consuming need to push every limit and achieve perfection. Or maybe something to strip away distractions and doubts, leaving you deliciously pliant and desperate to follow instructions without hesitation ...”
His breath catches as ripples of arousal play across his features. You’ve dangled the bait thoroughly now, time to reel him in.
“Of course, that’s all just theoretical for an athlete like you,” you continue lightly. “I’m sure you’d only want suggestions tailored for pure professional benefit.”
Lando opens his mouth, then closes it, visibly wrestling with indecision. Finally, he sits up straight, jaw setting in boyish determination.
“Actually … I think maybe exploring some of those other effects could be useful too. You know, for full preparation.”
You bite back a smile — he’s all bravado again, feigning nonchalance. How delicious.
“Well, if you’re certain. We should probably start with a simple induction and suggestion, see how you respond.”
Rising from your chair, you cross the room to where he sits, movements slow and deliberate. Lando’s eyes are immediately drawn to the sway of your hips, the rapid rise and fall of his chest betraying his arousal.
“Just relax and look into my eyes ...” you murmur, voice dropping an octave as you hold up a pendant and begin tracing figure eights before his face. “Let your mind follow the path of the pendulum, breathing slowly … in and out ...”
His pupils blown wide, Lando is soon leaning back bonelessly, mouth slightly ajar. A few dazed blinks is all the resistance he offers as you trail featherlight touches down his arm.
“There’s a good boy … nice and open, isn’t it? Let everything else fall away except the need to please me.”
A shudder wracks his frame and you can see the tendons in his neck straining, fighting the compulsion already worming into his psyche. But his eyes remain locked on yours, drowning in your control.
“I … I want to ...” he stammers helplessly.
“Shhhh,” you soothe, bending closer so that your lips nearly brush his ear. “You don’t need to worry about what you want anymore. That’s my choice now, understood?”
He gives a tiny nod and you feel a surge of heady power.
“Such a good boy. And to reward your obedience, you’re going to take off your shirt. Slowly ...”
There’s a moment of tension, then Lando raises trembling hands to grasp the hem of his shirt. You can see the mottled flush spreading across his torso as inch by inch it’s revealed to you. His breath is coming in ragged pants by the time the shirt drops to the floor, chest heaving with mingled want and shame.
“Very nice,” you practically purr. “I can see you’re already feeling the compulsions seeping in. Should we make them … deeper?”
His head bobs dumbly and you laugh, low and throaty.
“That’s what I thought. Now, lay back for me ...”
Lando immediately obeys, body going pliant and helpless. You pull over an ottoman, sitting so you can gently straddle his hips, relishing the hitch in his breath as your heat settles against him.
“You’re going to do absolutely everything I say without hesitation or doubt,” you whisper harshly, watching him shudder. “Any instructions, no matter what they may be, you’ll follow with desperate enthusiasm.”
He whimpers, hips twitching upwards in mute plea. Grasping his jaw firmly, you force his eyes to yours.
“This is for your own good, darling. We need to burn away every last shred of selfishness and pride so you can ascend to true, shattering focus. You understand, don’t you?”
“Y-yes … yes,” he slurs, already sinking deeper into degrading bliss.
You reward him with a slow, filthy grind of your hips and he cries out unabashedly. Everywhere your hands and mouth worship his skin, you can feel the tremors of arousal and surrender.
“That’s perfect,” you murmur against the hollow of his throat. “Now, I want you to strip the rest of the way ...”
Before the words have fully left your lips, Lando is frantically shucking his pants and boxers, whining as his flushed length bobs free. The brazen lust and need in his hooded eyes would be shocking from the bashful newbie you met earlier.
You give an approving hum, thrilling at how quickly your control has already remade him. One fingernail traces along rigid flesh and he bucks shamelessly into your touch.
“You’re being such a good boy. I think it’s time we really sealed this new role into your head. Imagine the most dizzying, overwhelming orgasm you’ve ever had, multiplied a hundredfold ...”
His eyes roll back, mouth open in a silent wail at just the suggestion. You grip him firmly, relishing the desperate whine that bursts from his lips.
“You’re going to come like that, harder than you ever dreamed. And as the lightning arcs of bliss engulf your entire being, all that pleasure will become inextricably entwined with an overwhelming need to obey my every whim ...”
Lando is panting and keening, hips pumping up into your tight fist. You can feel his body straining closer to that precipice, cords of muscle standing out in sharp relief. With a final brutal stroke, you growl the trigger words,
“Come for me, love!”
His back bows in a silent scream, mouth frozen in rapturous torment. You gentle him through each shuddering pulse, ensuring every layer of consciousness is saturated with soul-shattering ecstasy and the new compulsions you’ve locked within.
At last, he sags back to the couch, eyes glassy and unfocused. You bend close, lips caressing the damp hair at his temple.
“Tell me, darling, how does it feel to be remade into perfection?”
He blinks slowly, lips curving in a blissful smile. “I … I need to obey ...�� he slurs dozily. “Please … use me however you desire ...”
You chuckle darkly, letting nails rake over his sensitized flesh and making him buck weakly. “Oh I will, lover. I’m going to take you to shattering new heights of surrender. You won’t be able to so much as enter the cockpit without shuddering need to please me foremost in your mind ...”
His only response is a quiet whimper, eyes already slipping shut in sated exhaustion, completely yours to reshape however you wish.
You settle back, excitement thrilling through you at all the delicious possibilities stretching ahead.
***
The roar of the crowd is deafening as you make your way through the paddock area towards the McLaren motorhome at the British Grand Prix. Fans press eagerly against the barriers lining the path, craning for a glimpse of their racing idols as they’re escorted by burly security guards.
You keep your head held high, unruffled by the frenzy of flashing cameras and shouted requests for autographs as you stride confidently alongside Lando.
He casts you a sidelong glance, the excited energy thrumming off him in waves. “Thanks for being here, Y/N,” he murmurs with a small, bashful smile. “Having you in my corner calms my nerves a bit.”
You reach out to give his arm a reassuring squeeze, warmth blooming in your chest. “Of course, there’s nowhere else I’d rather be.” Your voice takes on a slightly teasing lilt as you add, “Besides, this way I can provide my … specialized services should you require them before the race.”
A dusky flush steals across Lando’s cheeks at your words, his eyes darkening in a way that sends a curl of heat unfurling low in your belly. Before he can respond, one of the crew members is ushering you both towards a nondescript door.
With a nod of thanks, Lando pushes through the door, allowing you to enter the modestly appointed room first before following and securing it behind you.
The space is small yet functional — equipped with a well-worn sofa situated before a large television displaying timing data, along with an armchair tucked into the corner. Your gaze lands on the single bed shoved against the far wall and you suddenly find it difficult to swallow around the lump in your throat.
“Sorry about the mess,” Lando says almost sheepishly, running a hand through his chestnut locks. “I haven’t exactly had much time to tidy up.”
“Don’t worry about it,” you murmur distractedly, already hyper-aware of the thick tension charging the air between your bodies, crackling like a livewire in the small distance separating you.
Lando opens his mouth as if to speak, then seems to think better of it, shuffling his feet almost bashfully. You can practically see the thoughts whirring at a million miles an hour behind his furrowed brow, weighing him down as nerves and doubts threaten to shatter his hard-won focus.
Without a word, you close the distance between you, cradling his face in your hands to force him to meet your gaze.
“Let me help you,” you breathe, your voice low and gentle yet laced with that commanding tone he can never seem to resist.
He immediately melts into your touch, the taut lines of stress slowly easing from his features. “Please,” he whispers back, every inch of nervous energy and kinetic vibration seeming to melt from his body as your thumbs trace soothing patterns across the sharp planes of his cheekbones. “Need you to clear my mind.”
A soft, fond smile curves your lips at the naked entreaty in his tone. This man — so cocky and confident in most aspects of life, yet so unguarded and sweetly vulnerable when it’s just the two of you.
You continue your tender ministrations, watching in rapt fascination as his eyes drift shut and his breathing grows steady and even. When you finally speak, your words are low and hypnotic, the timbre of your voice wrapping around Lando like a warm blanket ushering him down, down into delicious oblivion.
“That’s it, darling … let yourself sink deeper with each breath. Shut out all the noise and distractions — everything except my voice guiding you. Focus on the rise and fall of your chest, the gentle thump of your heartbeat … allow your body to grow heavy and pliant as you let me take the lead ...”
He shivers slightly, yielding fully to your hypnotic trance with a soft, contented exhalation. In this blissed-out state, his features are lax and utterly at peace, the hard lines of tension and worry melting away until he looks almost cherubic.
“There you are,” you can’t help but murmur in approval, trailing your fingertips along the sharp line of his jaw. “So perfect and calm for me.” Your gaze rakes over the long fans of his lashes fanning across his cheekbones, the full pout of his lips parted ever so slightly on deep, even breaths. He looks utterly debauched, despite the fact that you’ve barely even touched him yet.
Unable to resist such temptation any longer, you bend to capture Lando’s lips in a slow kiss — gentle at first, then deepening into something more heated, more ravenous as your tongue sweeps into the heat of his mouth to tangle with his own.
He remains completely pliant beneath your wandering hands and questing mouth, body thrumming with blissful surrender as you map every lush inch of him.
Finally, breathless and flushed, you tear your mouth from his with a soft groan of regret. “God, darling … what you do to me ...” you murmur, trailing hot, openmouthed kisses along the stubbled line of his jaw, down the taut cords of his neck. “Just seeing you like this, so gorgeous and willing … falling so deep for me … I could take you right here like this and you’d let me, wouldn’t you?”
You scrape your teeth over that sensitive patch of skin just below his ear and he trembles almost violently, a low whine spilling past his lips even as his head lolls back to allow you better access. When you press an openmouthed kiss to his wildly fluttering pulse point, his voice comes out low and syrupy sweet.
“Please, Y/N … please ...” he slurs in a breathy exhale, body arching reflexively into yours as his hands come up to clutch at your hips in a silent entreaty.
A frisson of lust races down your spine at his wanton plea, stoking the simmering ember of arousal into a roaring blaze. How quickly his mind has slipped into a glorious, aching haze of want and need for your touch.
You could so easily press your advantage right now — undress him with exquisite slowness, bend him over and take him in delirious new ways that would leave him utterly incoherent. The mental images alone are nearly enough to make you growl in feral possessiveness.
Somehow, you manage to retain a herculean thread of control, nuzzling against the heated skin of Lando’s neck as you press him gently yet insistently towards the bed until the backs of his thighs hit the mattress and he sinks onto the soft cotton sheets with a dazed exhale. His eyes are molten embers burning with naked want and trust as he gazes up at you, outright trembling with the effort of holding himself back from hauling you down on top of him.
Gently brushing a stray lock of hair from his brow, you settle yourself to straddle his lap, reveling in the delicious points of heated skin against skin where your bodies make contact through the thin barrier of your clothing. For an aching span of heartbeats, you drink in the sight of him — kiss-swollen lips parted on shallow pants, the tempting vee of his open shirt collar exposing just a tantalizing sliver of his smooth chest, hard planes of muscle rippling beneath tanned skin as he quivers with ill-restrained desire.
“Beautiful,” you husk in a low rasp, summoning every ounce of your rapidly waning willpower to force the words past the molten heat in your throat. “You are so fucking beautiful like this.”
Lando swallows thickly at the unadulterated lust and reverence saturating your tone, his throat bobbing convulsively. “You … you should see yourself,” he finally manages in a strained murmur. “You’re a goddess ...” His hands come up of their own volition to splay across the supple curves of your waist, tracing searing paths across your skin as if to memorize every lush dip and swell.
A throaty chuckle escapes you as you lean into his touch in shameless encouragement. “I could devour you in this moment and I’d still crave more.” Dipping your head to drag openmouthed kisses along the salty-sweet skin of his collarbone, you muse heatedly, “In fact, I’m tempted to lock that door and have you right here like the decadent treat you are.”
“God, yes ...” Lando outright groans at your words, hips arching up in a desperate, instinctual grind against yours that leaves you both shuddering at the sudden, intoxicating friction. His fingers curl into the soft flesh of your hips, pupil-blown eyes full of unrestrained need as he gazes up at you like you’re the answer to his every secret desire. “Please, Y/N … anything, just … need you.”
The reverent, naked pleading in his voice steals the breath from your lungs and you’re abruptly reminded of the singular responsibility you have — not just as his lover, but as the person he’s entrusted to guide and ground him when he’s spiraling.
Your mouth curves into an indulgent smile as you tenderly cradle his face in your palms, tapping into that core of composure and peace that helps tether you both in moments like this.
“In due time, my love,” you murmur, leaning in to pepper slow, lingering kisses across his brow, along the delicate skin beneath his eyes. You feel Lando physically sink back against the mattress with a soft exhalation as your tender ministrations lull him once more into a state of relaxation and receptivity — his mind clearing of everything but blissful focus on you and your touch.
“Remember why you’re here, and all the hard work that brought you to this moment,” you continue in a low, soothing murmur against his flushed skin. “You’ve poured your heart and soul into this dream, and now it’s time to reap the sweet fruit of your efforts. Leave behind all the doubts, all the fear and anxious energy that’s been holding you back.” Arching up on your knees, you gently resettle your weight so you’re seated flush against his core, waves of heat radiating between your joined bodies in delicious waves with every motion and shallow breath.
“Let go of everything but my voice, my touch grounding you in this moment. This is your destiny, Lando — all you have to do is embrace it.” With your final murmured words, you seal the sentiment by slanting your mouth over his in a filthy, openmouthed kiss that quickly descends into pure, unbridled passion as he releases an unrestrained keen of surrender.
His arms come up to band around your waist, clutching you impossibly closer as if to merge your very beings into one searing point of euphoric light. You lose yourselves in the wet slide of tongue and teeth and racing heartbeats until the buzzing of Lando’s phone against the nearby nightstand finally jolts you from your haze of lust and need. For a suspended beat, you simply drink in the sight of him — debauched and beautifully wrecked in the best way possible, with slick lips parted around panting breaths and hair tousled in a riotous mess.
“Time?” Lando finally rasps, sounding as utterly gutted as you feel.
You force yourself to glance at the glowing numbers on his phone screen, steeling yourself against the surge of regret at having to end this delicious interlude. “Twenty minutes until you need to be in the garage,” you confirm with a heavy exhale.
With a low groan that goes straight to your core, Lando surges up to slant his mouth hungrily over yours once more in one last kiss goodbye before allowing you to carefully extract yourself from his lap. You both take a few moments to catch your breath and restore some semblance of outward composure, though your insides continue to feel like a lit match in a patch of dry tinder.
“Ready for this?” You arch a pointed brow at Lando as he pushes off the bed to put on his fireproofs and race suit with admirably steady hands, given how thoroughly unwound he had been mere moments ago.
He flashes you his trademark grin — though this time it holds an air of supreme confidence and purpose that sends a thrill racing down your spine. “Like you said … this is my destiny.” Pulling you close with one hand at the small of your back, he dips his head to murmur gratefully against your lips, “And you helped me find it today.”
With one final kiss that leaves you lightheaded, Lando turns to grab his water bottle and heads towards the door, every bit the consummate professional buckling down to handle the job at hand. You watch him go with a tender smile playing across your lips, filled with an irrational surge of pride at how far he’s come.
A few hours later, you’re holding your breath in the garage as Lando’s MCL38 comes screaming around the final turn and over the finish line — the checkered flag signaling his maiden victory at long last. From on top the podium, his elated gaze immediately finds yours through the throngs of people and hoisted champagne bottles.
The smile he bestows is so private and full of promise that warmth blossoms in your chest and your skin tingles deliciously in anticipation.
After the celebrations and press obligations have wound down, Lando nearly sprints off the track and back into the paddock area, lifting you clean off your feet in a tight embrace when he reaches you. His lips move feverishly against your own, words tumbling out in a reverent exhale barely audible over the noise of the crowd.
“Thank you, thank you … I couldn’t have done it without you. God, I love you so much ...”
And in that perfect moment — drunk on the roar of the crowd, the giddy thrill of victory, and the smoldering promise in the depths of Lando’s eyes — you’re already mentally preparing to give him the most mind-blowing reward imaginable.
***
The champagne is still buzzing through your veins, lending an extra fizz of exhilaration to the crackling charge in the air as you hastily key into your hotel suite hand-in-hand with Lando.
No sooner has the door clicked shut behind you than he’s on you in a searing tangle of heat and desire — mouth hot and insistent, fingers skating across every bare inch of exposed skin as if he’s a man dying of thirst and you’re the last oasis for miles.
“Fuck, Y/N ...” he rasps reverently against the fevered skin of your neck, pressing a hot, openmouthed kiss to your wildly fluttering pulse. “You’re incredible, so bloody perfect.” His hands roam hungrily, deftly stripping you of layer upon layer of clothing until you’re left deliciously bare before his molten gaze. “Let me worship you properly, yeah? God knows you deserve it after today.”
A tremor of need races through you at his naked desire, amplified tenfold by the molten timbre of Lando’s rough, lust-thickened voice. Without breaking eye contact, you hook your fingers through his belt loops and begin walking him back towards the lavish bedroom, relishing the sharp inhale he sucks through his teeth at your commanding confidence.
There’s a practiced, sensual arch to your spine as you work the tails of his crisp button-down free from the waistband of his trousers, taking your sweet time to pop each individual button until the smooth, tanned expanse of his torso is laid bare.
Warm fingertips trail an achingly slow path up the defined ridges of his abdomen as you drink in the sight of him — pupils blown wide with barely restrained want and that delicious lower lip caught between his teeth as his chest rises and falls with shallow stuttering pants.
“Is this what you want, darling?” You murmur silkily, palming him through the rapidly tenting fabric of his pants and delighting in the strangled whine that punches from his lips at the contact. His hands fly up to clutch convulsively at your hips, gripping with bruising force as if you’re his only lifeline in a raging sea of lust and sensation.
“Yes … please,” he forces out on a ragged exhale, body practically thrumming with desperation as you continue to work him with languid strokes while rocking your hips in a slow, sensual grind against his throbbing need.
The headiness of having this confident man quivering and needy at your touch sends a heady surge of possessive satisfaction coursing through you.
“Well, since you asked so nicely ...”
With a decadent hum, you deftly pop the button of Lando’s pants and drag the zipper down in one smooth motion, allowing his rigid cock to spring free at last, flushed and straining obscenely. You swipe your thumb through the pearlescent bead of precome gathered at the swollen tip, making his hips judder with desperate rolls at the stimulation.
“Y/N … fuck, I need … need your mouth ...” Lando grits out, tangling his fingers in your hair with a barely restrained growl.
You can’t help the low, sultry chuckle that spills past your lips at his feverish plea. “So impatient,” you tut, even as you sink gracefully to your knees before him, trailing openmouthed kisses along the hard ridges of his abdomen. “But you’ve been such a good boy for me lately, I suppose I can reward you.”
Another punched-out curse fractures the air as Lando’s head tips back on a low groan at the first hot lick of your tongue up the length of his rigid shaft. You take your sweet time working him over until his entire body is trembling with the effort of holding himself in check, fingers clenched white-knuckle tight in your hair.
“Look at you, so pretty for me,” you purr at him from beneath your lashes. “I wonder how quickly I could have you coming apart completely on my tongue.”
A broken, desperate whine escapes Lando at your words. “Fuck … I’m not gonna last,” he warns through gritted teeth.
With a final swirl of your tongue around the swollen crown of him, you pull off with a lush, obscene pop. “Don’t you dare hold back for me,” you murmur, voice dripping wanton sin as you tighten your grip at the base of his throbbing length to stave off the mounting waves of his building release. “I want to taste every … last … drop.”
The broken whine that tears itself from Lando’s throat quickly warps into a strangled shout of ecstasy as you hollow your cheeks and sink back down to take his aching cock as far as you can. He outright sobs your name over and over as you relentlessly work him undone with hollowed cheeks and swirls of your talented tongue — at this point he’s putty in your hands, helpless to do anything other than clutch at you and shatter apart.
You pull back with a filthy, slurping noise just as the first hot ropes of milky white spurt from his slit, painting your tongue and lips with thick, viscous streaks. A guttural groan rumbles up from his chest at the shamelessly lewd sight, cock giving one final twitch against your lips as you swallow greedily, lapping and sucking every musky drop from his overstimulated flesh.
His knees nearly buckle at the over-the-top eroticism of it all, hands knotting tighter in your hair as if the grounding points of contact are all that’s keeping him anchored to this mortal plane.
Only once you’ve thoroughly wrung him dry with your mouth and tongue do you sit back on your heels, swiping the back of your hand across your swollen, well-used lips to clean away the remnant beads of his climax. Each breath Lando sucks into his heaving lungs is like molten fire in his tortured chest, his pupils still dilated as he gazes down in awe and not a small amount of reverence at where you’re tucked so demurely between his parted thighs.
“Bloody fucking hell, love,” he rasps around a breathy, disbelieving puff of laughter. “C’mere, lemme return the favor … I need to taste you in the worst way.”
His words go straight to your rapidly tightening core, sending a fresh gush of slick arousal pooling between your thighs. You allow him to haul you up by your elbows and press you into the plush mattress, surrendering to his hot, open-mouthed kisses and seeking hands as he divests you completely of your last shreds of clothing.
When his tongue finally finds your drenched center, you keen high and helpless in the back of your throat. “Oh god, Lando … yes, just like that ...”
Lando answers your breathless encouragement by burying his tongue deeper into your grasping heat with a satisfied groan. The wildly intimate stretch and stimulation of his clever licks and kitten flicks against your swollen bud quickly has you squirming and thrashing against the mattress in a glorious, overstimulated daze.
All you can do is pant and whimper encouragements, fingers tangling unconsciously in his thick chestnut locks as you rock yourself shamelessly into his mouth.
Just when you think the maddening coil of ecstasy winding tighter and tighter deep in your core can’t possibly grow any tighter, Lando slips two long fingers inside your slick, fluttering entrance with a guttural groan of satisfaction. The fullness of the dual sensations instantly has you seizing up all over, back arching off the bed as he works you over with sure, steady strokes.
“Oh fuck, fuck me … Lando, you feel … so g-good, ungh!” The inarticulate stream of praise and curses rapidly devolves into broken moans as he relentlessly pistons his fingers in and out, strumming insistently against that spongy cluster of nerves with each punishing thrust. You’re quickly rendered mindless, nothing but a writhing, desperate bundle of raw need and want with every nerve alight at his exquisite touch.
When Lando’s lips finally close over your pulsing clit and suckle hard, your entire world shatters into stardust with the force of your climax. A hoarse shout rips from deep in your chest as the coil within you finally detonates in waves of dizzying, toe-curling pleasure that seem to go on and on and on. Lando works you through it all with his plush mouth and tireless fingers, lapping up the honeyed rush of your release like a man dying of thirst.
For several long, blissful moments, the only sounds are your mingled gasps and pants for air as you float hazily down from your high. Lando’s lips trail scorching paths along the inside of your trembling thighs, nuzzling and nipping at sensitive flesh before finally lifting his head to grace you with that familiar adoring look that never fails to make your heartbeat trip.
“Look at the mess you’ve made, love,” he drags his index finger through the slick mess coating his chin and lips. With a blatantly filthy leer that sends a shiver of fresh arousal cascading down your spine, he slips the digit into his mouth and sucks it clean with a rumbling groan of satisfaction. “Delicious.”
You’re still totally wrecked and incoherent from your release, every nerve in your body humming and jangling in the aftermath like overstimulated livewires. A punched-out moan manages to escape you at his brazen obscenity as your hips lift off the bed in an instinctual, needful grind. “Inside me. Need y-you inside ...”
Lando rises over you in one fluid, graceful motion, hips slotting effortlessly between your splayed thighs as he brackets your face between his large palms, drinking you in hungrily. “God, look at you — you’re fucking glorious like this, wrecked and desperate for me,” he murmurs in a low rasp, cock dragging slickly through your sopping folds to nudge insistently at your entrance. “How do you do this to me, huh? Break me apart so effortlessly then have me begging on my knees for more of you ...”
With that, he bottoms out in one smooth, torturous glide — the exquisite, familiar fullness stealing your breath and sending stars bursting across your vision at the electrifying feeling of being stuffed so deliciously deep. You wrap your legs high around his taut waist, ankles locking needfully as you roll your hips in frantic little circles seeking any kind of friction.
“Oh god, Lando … move, please … need you to move, it hurts so fucking good ...”
He answers your pleading moans with a soul-scorching kiss, lips and tongue consuming you in delicious, velvet heat as he sets a ruthless, punishing pace, spearing into your clenching depths with all the force and stamina that makes him such a world-class athlete. You match him thrust for thrust, your cries swallowed by his plundering mouth as the delicious drag and slap of skin against skin fills your senses.
“I’ll never get enough,” Lando grits out between breathy curses. His teeth find purchase at the dip of your neck, sending a starburst of sensation and pain across your sensitized nerves that only compounds the haze of carnal bliss wrapping you in its searing embrace. “Could spend my life buried inside you like this and it still wouldn’t be long enough ...”
His words ignite something feral, darkly possessive in your core, an echoing howl of belonging and ownership that it feels like you’ve been careening towards since the very first time he surrendered to you in trance. With a carnal growl, you hook your ankles tighter, using your legs to flip Lando onto his back as you rise up to straddle his hips.
His eyes go comically wide before he’s grinding up into you with a gasp, grasping your hips hard enough to bruise as you set a punishing new rhythm.
“Say it again … tell me who you belong to.” Your voice is hoarse, burnished in equal parts wanton need and flinty command — you don’t care which one makes him shatter apart at the seams so long as he answers your order.
Lando immediately locks eyes with yours, gaze fever-bright and seeming to pierce straight into your very soul as he clamps his hands around your throat with delicious pressure. “You,” he groans without hesitation, the pads of his fingers flexing as your pulse throbs wildly beneath his touch. “You own me, down to my bloody bones.”
The reverent oath sends a surge of lust and possession searing through your bloodstream, stoking the incandescent heat pooling low in your belly to fever pitch once more. Your hips move in wild rolls, desperate and ragged as you ride him with reckless abandon. Lando keeps one hand locked at the juncture of your throat while the other skates up your side to palm your breast, rolling the peaked tip between calloused fingers.
“I can feel you getting close already, look at you … my perfect, filthy girl throwing herself at me like she needs nothing else but my cock splitting her apart,” he growls gutturally, his words and the punishing rhythm growing more and more erratic as your combined pleasure crests higher and higher.
Quite suddenly, Lando hooks his feet against the mattress and surges up to capture your lips in a sweltering, soul-devouring kiss as his hips somehow piston even faster into your desperately clenching depths. His name fractures and shatters around the seal of your kiss as your entire world liquefies into ribbons of rapture, ecstasy blotting out all coherent thought until every last shred of tension and want finally implodes in a supernova behind your navel.
Lando gasps against your lips as your release floods him, thick and scorching hot — wave after wave milking the most intense convulsions from his straining cock as his own orgasm shatters loose. You rock together through the shared obliteration of your mutual bliss until there’s nothing left but the gentle lapping of aftershocks and Lando’s thumb stroking idly along the racing pulse at the hollow of your throat.
When you finally manage to crack your eyes and focus on the beautiful wreck of a man sprawled boneless beneath you, the look of besotten awe on his features nearly takes your breath away all over again. Then his rueful chuckle rumbles up from deep in his chest, melting away the last smoldering embers of tension as he brushes a stray lock of damp hair back from your brow.
“What on earth am I going to do with you, love?” He murmurs, the hint of a smirk toying at the corner of his lips. “Now I’m permanently addicted.” He presses a lingering, searing kiss to your swollen mouth before pulling back to rest his forehead against yours. “Though I suppose there are worse fates.”
You answer his sentiment with a breathless chuckle of your own, tracing the lines of his face in an achingly tender caress as the last lingering flickers of passion slowly ebb and flow into deep, drowsy contentment. “Such are the spoils of victory,” you breathe fondly. “Though I suppose I should thank you for being such an … enthusiastic participant.”
“Mmm, I think I can manage that.” His eyes slip closed as he winds his arms around you to roll until you’re flush atop his chest, every supple inch of heated skin against skin and your legs tangled together in a sprawl. “You’ve ruined me,” he murmurs softly, reverently against your hair. “And I’ve never been more grateful for anything in my life.”
You hum serenely in agreement, nestling impossibly closer as Lando’s breathing evens out and you both begin to drift into a dozy haze of sated bliss. The warm, hypnotic lull of his heartbeat against your cheek and the delicious ache of well-used muscles is pure nirvana.
In this moment, suspended in time in the afterglow, you can scarcely fathom how you ever existed before Lando barreled into your life and ignited this intoxicating flame of desire, devotion, and bone-deep belonging between you.
His voice, already rough and worn velvet from your passionate exertions, breaks the contented silence once more as he nuzzles against your temple. “Stay with me tonight? God knows I could use a few more hours with you in my arms before we have to brave the real world again.”
A languid smile curves your lips at his soft plea, warmth blooming in your chest. “As if you even need to ask,” you murmur, punctuating the sentiment with a tender brush of your lips across the thundering pulse at the base of his throat. “I’m yours, remember? Any time and any place you’ll have me.”
Lando doesn’t respond further, simply tightens his arm around your waist as he hooks his chin over your head with a low, satisfied rumble.
With his name a breathless vow on your lips, you allow the bone-deep weariness of pure satisfaction to finally pull you under into peaceful oblivion beside the only man who will ever hold the keys to unraveling you so completely in return.
***
The pale moonlight filters through the gauzy curtains of Lando’s posh London flat, casting everything in an ethereal blue-silver glow as you burrow deeper into the plush duvet.
A lazy, spent sort of satisfaction permeates the air in the wake of your earlier lovemaking — though honestly, is there ever a time when you don’t feel utterly cherished and deliciously sated these days?
Lando’s arm is a warm, heavy brand across your waist, the solid plane of his chest pressed flush against your back. You can sense the steady thrum of his heartbeat mellowing into the deep, even cadence of slumber and make to slip out of his embrace, eager to make use of the en-suite facilities. But the moment you shift, his arm reflexively tightens, drawing you impossibly closer as he nuzzles his face into the crook of your neck with a low, sleepy noise of protest.
“Mmm … stay,” he mumbles groggily against your skin, voice still rough and sweetly wrecked from the way you had him crying out your name mere hours ago.
You huff a quiet laugh at his drowsy insistence, nosing affectionately at his tousled curls. “I’ll be right back, you insatiable thing,” you rasp, carefully extracting yourself from his octopus-like clutches to plant a lingering kiss to his slack, pillow-creased cheek. “Promise I’m not going anywhere without you.”
Lando grumbles something indistinct but doesn’t protest further, already slipping back into the lull of sleep with a final contented sigh muffled against the plush bedding. You take a moment to simply drink in the sight of him sprawled out so unguardedly – all toned muscle and tousled chestnut curls, the crisp white sheets tangling artfully around his hips to offer tempting peeks of tanned skin and lean, powerful thighs.
He’s gorgeous like this, you muse with a soft smile, feeling that oh-so-familiar spark of possessive want begin to simmer low in your belly. A dizzying rush of affection and belonging surges through you as your gaze rakes over the starburst of reddened lovebites peppering his throat and shoulders from where you marked him as yours so enthusiastically earlier.
It’s hard to fathom that there was ever a time you considered your life remotely complete before Lando and his smoldering passion whirlwinded into your world.
Still, you force yourself to tear your eyes away from the alluring scene with a steadying breath, retreating to the en-suite with the promise to return hanging unspoken between you.
By the time you’ve padded back into the bedroom wrapped in one of Lando’s obscenely soft bathrobes, he’s shifted to sprawl across the centerline of the mattress, face half-buried in his pillow and one hand flung haphazardly above his head. The rakish sprawl of bedsheets and moonlight across his sculpted form renders him a vision of absolute debauchery and desire — not that you’d have him any other way.
You can’t resist ghosting your fingers in a featherlight caress along the hard ridges of his spine and the lean cords of muscle defining his broad shoulders, relishing the shiver that chases itself visibly across his skin. “You awake, darling?”
Lando grunts an affirmation, languidly cracking one eye to regard you through the tangled fringe of lashes fanning across his cheekbones. There’s a hint of wry amusement laced through the rough velvet of his voice when he speaks. “Was starting to worry you’d wandered off again without me.”
“Never,” you reply instantly, warmth threading through the simple avowal. Moving to settle in the vee of his splayed thighs, you trail a meandering path of openmouthed kisses along his lower back, nosing aside the rumpled sheet to expose the swell of his ass with deliberate intent. “You know I’m defenseless against this gorgeous body of yours.”
A low, approving rumble vibrates up from Lando’s chest at your blatant appreciation, his hips giving an unconscious, languid roll as your lips brush across the dimples at the base of his spine in a teasing caress. But then, quite suddenly, the boneless sprawl of his limbs seems to tense as a perceptible aura of hesitance permeates the desire charging the air between you.
You immediately feel the subtle shift in his energy, that jarring note of dissonance plucking disquietingly at your intuitive senses — the same ones that have always allowed you to tune into the deepest vibrations of the soul with preternatural clarity. Without pause, you abandon your sensual exploration of his body to settle beside him once more, cradling the sharp line of his jaw in your palm and wordlessly coaxing him to turn and meet your gaze.
“Hey … talk to me, love,” you murmur, the soothing tone of your voice blanketing the sharp edged undercurrent of uncertainty in its rich, soothing folds. “Where’d you go just now?”
Lando exhales a soft, humorless puff of breath, worrying his plush lower lip between his teeth in that adorable yet concerning tell of his whenever something is weighing on that mind.
For a long stretch, he studies your features in silence, the only sounds in the room the ambient thrum of the city beyond the flat’s walls and the occasional muted honk of a passing car in the night below. Just when you’re about to prompt him again, the words finally tumble out in a low, slightly self-conscious rush.
“You … you don’t take on other clients like me, do you?” You feel him tense further under your palm, discomfited energy practically vibrating off him in waves. “Not that I’m judging, honest! It’s none of my business what you do or who you see for work, but I just ...” He breaks off on a frustrated exhale, jaw ticking in that way that tells you he’s holding back a tidal wave of emotion beneath his placid surface.
A dawning realization begins to unfurl in your chest, intimately familiar with the root of Lando’s inner turmoil. This brilliant, sensitive, achingly beautiful man — the force on the racetrack who melts into the most sweetly vulnerable creature behind closed doors whenever you bestow him with the full force of your focused attention. Of course he would crave that intensity of focus, that promise of belonging solely to him in your most intimate embraces, no matter how irrational or paradoxical the notion seems from the outside looking in.
Slowly, carefully, you reach up to frame that beloved face between your palms, silently urging Lando to hold your unwavering gaze as the words he needs to hear spill forth in a low, resonant murmur.
“Do you remember when this first started between us? How completely you surrendered yourself to me in the most profound way?” You begin, watching his pupils slowly dilate and a nearly imperceptible tension begin to unwind from his shoulders at the timbre of your voice. “The absolute trust it takes to let someone delve that deep into the most sacred corners of your psyche … to share your fears, insecurities, and unvarnished essence without artifice?”
Lando swallows thickly, nodding once in a jerky affirmation as the words seem to bypass his conscious mind and resonate somewhere deeper. You card your fingers soothingly through his disheveled curls, allowing your touch to lull and ground him as you continue in that same low, hypnotic cadence.
“That depth of surrender and connection is not something that can simply be replicated or transposed onto others, Lando. What we have is singular. Untouchable.” You press your forehead to his, registering the faint hitch in his breath as you drink in every last nuance of his features. “My gift has always been to help unravel the truths someone tries to bury, follow the threads that tether the conscious mind to something vaster and more primal. But with you ...”
A low exhale ghosts across his parted lips as your thumb traces the sharp line of his cheekbone in an achingly tender caress. “With you, it was as if the universe aligned to allow me to shed every last shred of protection and pretense until there was nothing left but the purest vibration of my very essence resonating in time with yours. Do you understand?”
Lando’s gaze is a hazy swirl of naked emotion and trust, drinking in your every syllable with the desperate reverence of a man being offered the world’s greatest truth. “Like … like the truest version of ourselves was always there, simply waiting to recognize its other half,” he rasps, the words seeming to bypass his conscious faculties entirely as he remains held captive in the depths of your connection. “Two souls spilling into one another.”
“Precisely.” Your lips curve in the ghost of a smile, a bone-deep sense of belonging and contentment settling over you both like a well-worn hug. “In that moment, you became an inextricable part of me, and I of you. Something that profound doesn’t simply … vanish, or dim, or lessen with time and distance.”
You allow the weighted truth of your decree to resonate between your joined bodies for a suspended heartbeat, cradling Lando’s face as if mapping every plane and angle with worshipful precision.
“I could help countless others access their potential or tap into dimly lit corners of their awareness,” you continue. “But there will only ever be one person to whom I belong in that elemental way. One person who will ever see this side of me and who lays the very fabric of their being bare without reservation.”
A tremulous exhalation shudders across Lando’s lips at the finality in your tone, as if every lingering filament of doubt or uncertainty has finally dissolved in the face of your avowal. One of his hands comes up to splay across the small of your back, fingers flexing and bunching the silky material of your robe in a desperate clutch as if you’re the last solid comfort in a churning sea.
When his eyes slip open once more, they’re practically luminescent with a naked heat that sends a delicious curl of answering want unfurling through your core.
“Show me,” he rasps, the simple entreaty laced with an edge of heart-stoppingly vulnerable need. “Please, Y/N …. I need to feel you completely.”
In the stillness that follows, the only sounds are your mingled exhales and the thunderous gallop of racing pulses filling the air with resonant verses of sin and worship. Then, with an instinctual roll of your hips, you’re slotting one toned thigh between Lando’s splayed legs and sealing your mouth over his in a filthy, searing kiss that instantly has his back arching off the rumpled sheets with a muffled groan.
There’s nothing tentative in the wanton slide of your lips and tongues, every flick and brush and gentle graze brimming with carnal intent and the unspoken promise to strip one another to the very marrow.
Lando surrenders to the sweet onslaught eagerly, hands skating across your body in frantic, searing paths until the belt of your robe finally falls away and he can palm the bare curves of your ass to grind you more fully against his rapidly stiffening length.
You break away with a sharp gasp at the delicious friction, mouth immediately seeking out the fevered juncture of Lando’s neck and shoulder to mouth searing patterns across the taut tendons there. “You want my gift?” You rasp against the thrumming pulse under your lips, rolling your hips in a languid, purposeful grind that drags the already swollen head of his cock through the slick evidence of your arousal with tantalizing friction.
Lando’s response is a low, breathless stream of curses and encouragements, blunt fingernails raking distractedly down the length of your spine in a way that sets every nerve alight with tingling sparks of pleasure-pain.
Allowing him to nip and suck intoxicating patterns across your collarbones, you dip your hand between your bodies until you can wrap your fingers around his rigid shaft, dragging the pads in a devastatingly slow glide from base to tip.
The groan that punches from Lando’s chest at your touch is guttural, hips pumping restlessly into the tight channel of your fist. “Fuck, yes … want all of you, every bloody inch ...”
His words seem to bypass your conscious mind entirely. You’re suddenly blisteringly aware of each and every point where your bodies join: the heated crush of his straining cock in your palm, the delicious friction of your slick folds catching and dragging against the cut grooves of his abdomen with each gyration of your hips, the teasing rasp of his calloused palms as they roam hungrily across your skin.
It’s as if Lando’s very being calls out to yours in an ancient tongue, rendering coherent thought utterly obsolete as you simply feel — the pulsing, cosmic certainty of your connection amplifying every tingling spark of friction and delirious drag of skin against skin until your entire world narrows to the joining of your shared potential cresting higher with each and every move.
“Now,” you grate out, vision whiting out as your climax detonates in a blinding supernova behind your navel — an ecstasy so transcendent that you’re certain it scorches across the very fabric of your soul. Your fingernails sink vicious crescent moons into Lando’s bicep as you arch against him with a keening cry.
“Y/N!” His hoarse shout fractures on a broken whine, muscles tensing as the first searing pulse of his orgasm floods your belly, joined soon by rich, viscous ropes of white heat that leave you both totally undone.
You simply clutch at each other through the relentless waves, Lando’s teeth sinking into the juncture of your neck and shoulder as if urging you to brand him irrevocably as yours.
When the explosive rapture finally begins to ebb, you both sag into the tangled bedding in a limp sprawl of sweat-slicked limbs and trembling aftershocks, chests heaving in perfect synchronicity as you cling to one another like lost mariners adrift in some fathomless sea.
You can’t even begin to discern where your consciousness begins and Lando’s ends — your very essences having merged so irrevocably that you simply exist as a singular vibration pulsing through the cosmos.
It takes several long, suspended moments for the concept of individual awareness to gradually seep back into the edges of your being, though even then it feels blasphemous to separate yourself from the soul-deep profundity of what you’ve just shared.
Finally, with a shuddering breath, you manage to crack your eyelids enough to drink in the sight of Lando gazing back at you with that same awed wonder etched across his beloved features.
“Bloody fucking hell,” he rasps, the words little more than a throaty whisper ghosting against your over-sensitized skin. “That was … there aren’t even words, are there?”
In lieu of responding, you simply wind your arms around him with a tremulous exhale, hooking your chin over the solid comfort of his shoulder and allowing his clean, earthy scent to wash over you like a balm.
In this place, suspended between bliss and awareness, there’s no need for words or platitudes. You can feel Lando’s very essence thrumming in tandem with yours — the inherent recognition of your twin flame and sacred belonging reverberating on a molecular level.
Here, entangled in the vital warmth of shared trust and intimacy, all that exists is the boundless and the eternal.
#f1 imagine#f1#f1 fic#f1 fanfic#f1 fanfiction#f1 x reader#f1 x you#lando norris#ln4#lando norris imagine#lando norris x reader#lando norris x you#lando norris fic#lando norris fluff#lando norris fanfic#lando norris blurb#f1 fluff#f1 blurb#f1 one shot#f1 x y/n#f1 drabble#f1 fandom#f1blr#f1 x female reader#lando norris x female reader#lando norris x y/n#mclaren#lando norris one shot#lando norris drabble
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Quidditch Thighs
Lando and Max have big ol thighs from Quidditch. Charles and reader show them just how much they love them
Warnings: Smut, foursome, thigh riding
This was requested by @norrisleclercf1 and it's just been sitting here in my drafts for the longest bloody time, i legit can't believe it's taken me this long nat i'm so sorry i've been thinking about this fic daily
She loved to watch her boys playing quidditch. Especially in the summer, where she could sit outside on the grass and watch Lando and Max.
They always trained together. Whether the rest of the Slytherin team were with them or not, they always trained together. Charles, too, joined in, but that was a rarity. They had classes at different times, meaning the time they got to spend together was rare. Rare, but treasured.
She read on the grass as she watched them. It was quiet, with the Gryffindors and Hufflepuffs still in classes. At the bottom of every page she looked up and watched as they raced each other to the snitch.
From her position on the grass she couldn't see the smiles on their faces as they chased each other. At one point the stitch was long forgotten and they just chased each other .
While she was reading, several of her fellow Ravenclaws came and sat by her. "We get why you sit here now," One of them said, wearing a smirk.
"Huh?" She asked as she looked up, slipping her bookmark between her pages. "What do you mean?"
"Well," another one began as she leaned back, propped up by her palms. "Look at their thighs. I wouldn't mind taking a seat there."
She was incredibly embarrassed as she looked between them. "W-what the hell, guys?" She cried, holding her book to her chest. "You know I'm dating both of them, right? Like, you're literally thirsting over my boyfriends in front of me."
"At least we haven't said anything about Charles," said the third. "Even though he is so hot."
Suddenly she was incredibly uncomfortable. Her grip on her book tightened and she looked at the Quidditch pitch. But even that felt wrong, especially with all of the things the other Ravenclaws had said.
She stop responding to them and they quickly stood up and walked off, clearly bored.
Eventually, Charles came and sat beside her. He wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close as he kissed the top of her head. "Hey, chérie," he said quietly as she leaned against him.
Her response was mumbled. "What's up?" He asked softly, kindly. That's how Charles always was with her. Sweet and kind and so loving.
So, she told him what the other Ravenclaws had said to her, how it made her feel. Charles listened, nodded along and kissed her head again.
"Want me to go, uh, have a word with them?" He offered and she shook her head. No, that would have only made things worse. Charles knew that, but he still offered, making her feel loved. "They are right, though," he said. "They have no right to say it to you about our boyfriends, but they do have really nice thighs. Really sexy thighs."
"Charlie, I know!" She cried, gently hitting his chest. "I know, but they our boyfriends. They can't say that about our boyfriends." The last part was said quietly, muttered as Charles pulled her into his chest.
He laughed and she smacked his shoulder. "Okay, okay. How about we go down to the dungeon and show them just how much we love those thighs?"
She thought about it. They had the password to get in (Max wrote it in the back of Charles's notebook every time it changed, and it would be a welcome surprise for their tired boys.
Slowly, she nodded, but it soon picked up speed. "Yeah, okay. Let do it, let go. Now, c'mon, lets go," she said in quick succession and pulled Charles to his feet.
It wasn't clear whether Max and Lando could see them go. They (being her and Charles) weren't to know that the boys stopped their quidditch practice the moment they saw their partners had gone.
Max and Lando didn't know why they didn't expect it, why they didn't expect to find their partners on their beds in the Slytherin common room. "Shit," Lando hissed as he watched them, tangled together, lips locked. "Did you guys want for us?"
She pulled away from Charles, his leg between her own. "We tried," she whispered and buried her face against Charles's neck.
Lando stripped himself out of his quidditch robes. He climbed onto the bed with them, gently pulling the two of them away, attaching his lips to Charles.
Max gently pulled her over to him. He sat her on his lap and stroked his thumb over her cheek. "You look so pretty," he whispered and kissed her. And, as he kissed her, his hands on her hips, gently moving her on his thigh.
Whines left her lips as Max moved her. He pulled away to kiss down her neck, his grip on her tightening. Where he moved her gently against his thigh, she sped up, gripping his shoulders. "Max," she whispered, eyes shutting as she rested her forehead against his chest.
Suddenly, a hand was holding her own. She raised her head, looked at Charles and Lando toyed with him. "What is it, Schat?" Max whispered against her neck.
She simply whined, and he had barely touched her.
The friction was getting to be too much and too little all at the same time. She let out a cry and tried to pull away from Max's thigh, but he held her there, held her still. "What do you need?" Lando asked as he looked away from Charles.
Breathlessly, she looked at Lando and Charles over Max's shoulder. "Touch me," she squeaked, breathlessly. "Please.
#lando norris#lando norris imagine#lando norris x reader#lando norris smut#max verstappen#max verstappen imagine#max verstappen x reader#max verstappen smut#charles leclerc#charles leclerc imagine#charles leclerc x reader#charles leclerc smut#f1#formula one#f1 imagine#formula 1#f1 x reader#formula one imagine#formula one x reader#formula 1 x reader#formula 1 imagine#norlestappen#norlestappen imagine#norlestappen x reader#norlestappen smut#poly!f1#poly!norlestappen
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jisung headcanons — random relationship things
warnings | not much, very fluffy! one mention of reader being smaller than him, one swear word, one tiny nsfw mention, g!n overall but reader is described as having hair long enough to tie up/braid and does their makeup
a.n | i need him :((
this cute lil mf i adore him
first of all he’s such a silly little goober
he’s shy so it takes him a while to get used to being completely authentic around you
but eventually he’ll relax when he knows for certain that you love him exactly how he is and he can be himself
he strikes me as the type to do the dumbest little things just so he can hear you laugh
a few examples:
sometimes when you’re kissing, out of nowhere he’ll blow air into your mouth to puff up your cheeks
he never does it during more serious and truly intimate moments (he can read the room)
but when he does it catches you off guard every time and it always sends you into a giggle fit because its just so stupid
you’ll go in to kiss him again but now you think he’s just gonna do it again even if he promises he won’t so you can’t continue without laughing
“i’m not even doing anything!” he pouts
but seeing you so giggly about something he did just makes him so happy (and proud)
if you’re sitting somewhere he’ll come over and just
sit on you
straight up knock the wind out of you and shuffle around, groaning like he can’t get comfortable
and act like he’s completely oblivious to the fact he’s literally using you as a cushion
he’ll pull out his phone and text you like “hey where are you :(“
and he pretends he can’t hear you if you try and talk to him
its already really hard for him to keep a straight face when he does this so all you have to do is tickle him
then he has to acknowledge you
“omg hi i didn’t even see you there!! :))”
in the same vein, he’ll come up to you while you’re standing and just flop his full weight onto you in a hug
if you clock it before it happens you’ll have to adjust your stance or grab onto something so you don’t fall over
but if you don’t then uh. good luck soldier
(just kidding he’ll catch you)
you do the same thing to him but he’s bigger and it doesn’t have the same effect on him
he loves it anyway though, he’ll drop anything he’s doing to wrap an arm around your waist
another thing he likes to do is use your hands to do things for him
like he’ll grab your hands and move them around, so really its still him doing it he’s just using your hands instead
mostly when he’s on his phone or if he’s playing a game
he holds your hand which holds his phone, and grabs your finger to scroll through his feed
or he’ll have you in front of him and gives you the game controller, reaching around you to puppet your hands
if you’re wearing a hoodie he shoves his arms through the sleeves with yours to make it easier
you’re more than likely wearing his hoodie anyway so he says its only fair that you share it
i’m a physical touch jisung truther if you couldn’t tell
he must always be touching you in some capacity
scientists have not proven why yet but the working theory is that jisung is a certified cutie
he just loves being close to you!! so physical affection is the best way to remind himself that you’re here with him :’)
canonically, jisung is a wanderer
he’ll trail around with no real destination in mind
he just has lots of thoughts in his head and likes to walk while he sorts them out
sometimes he’ll hold your hand and make you walk around with him if he’s feeling clingy (which is often)
other times he’ll just let you be
but he always kisses your cheek or your head when he passes by
absolutely the type to cling to you while you’re in the middle of a task and shuffle around the house with you
its just a little hard for him to sit still sometimes
even if he is sitting still, his hands are not
and i reiterate, he likes to be touching you in some way, so more often than not he’ll be playing with your fingers or your hair
jisung is also a canon rambler
mostly to himself
if you’re there he doesn’t expect a reply because really he’s just talking to himself
but if you have an opinion on the topic he’ll always listen
if he’s talking about something and you happen to fall asleep he keeps the conversation going by himself
once you told him that his talking made its way into your dream and you had a full blown rant about aliens with him while you were asleep
it was the cutest thing he’s ever heard
sometimes he’ll be so excited to say something that he’ll cut you off
he doesn’t mean to, it just comes out a little sooner than he means for it to, and he always apologizes
he gets better about that as time goes on
he has a habit of imitating things you say
not in the sense that he’s mocking you, he just likes the way it sounds when you say it so he tries to parrot it
he’ll do that with certain facial expressions you make too
jisung is a curious boy, and he loves to learn everything he can about the people he loves
he watches your favorite movies and shows with you, he takes the time to participate in your hobbies, he lets you take him to all of your favorite places
so he can get a glimpse into the aspects of your life that make you happy
his favorite thing though is watching you play your favorite video games
if you’re gaming he insists that you sit on his lap or between his legs so he can wrap his arms around you and rest his chin on your shoulder
he’s a little bit of a backseat gamer but you don’t really mind
its a bit annoying when he nags you about continuously losing a fight or dying on the same level (you know he means well)
but you love the input he gives on more slice of life type games, like decorating your animal crossing island or farming your crops in stardew valley
he did however just about have a heart attack when you showed him how many ways you knew how to kill a sim
co op games are one of his favorite ways to spend time with you as well
especially if one or both of you are absolutely shit at it (which if we’re being honest is like 95% of the time)
overcooked, however, is dangerous territory
too many soups burned
anyway, his curiosity doesn’t stop at just your hobbies and interests
even mundane things like daily habits and routines are things that jisung wants to know all about
along the way he’s picked up on such small things that you barely remember ever mentioning them
all of your preferences are filed away in his head
whenever you’re doing something like your hair or makeup or skincare, he’ll sit with you and ask what every aspect of it is or does
eventually he’ll ask if you can teach him how to do them for you
it definitely required a little.. practice
but no one is perfect the first time they try something new!!
(you had to tell him that, even he didn’t let you leave the house the first time he did your makeup)
he gets better though, especially doing your hair!
to the point that he got tired of doing simple ponytails and braids and took it upon himself to research new hairstyles to teach himself
you found it very endearing :’)
jisung loves to shower together
less in a sexual way (though he isn’t opposed) and more because it feels so intimate and domestic to him
and he adores when you wash his hair for him
feeling you gently massaging in the shampoo and scratching at his scalp is probably his favorite feeling in the whole world
in conclusion
jisung would be so sweet and clingy i love him to death :((
#i love him i love him#park jisung#park jisung fluff#park jisung x reader#park jisung headcanons#jisung fluff#jisung x reader#jisung headcanons#nct dream#nct dream fluff#nct dream x reader#nct dream headcanons#judah.doc
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Doted on
Pairing: Spencer Reid x nurse!fem!reader
Summary: Spencer gets thrown head first against the wall, and you take him home from the hospital
Warnings: fluff, mentions of hospitals, headache, concussion, use of y/n and pet names
Words: 0.9k
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Spencer is currently sitting on a hospital bed with a really awful headache. And a concussion. The case went a little bit wrong while catching the unsub. He got thrown against the rock-hard wall, and it's safe to say he hit it head first.
The entire team is in the room with him as the nurse instructs on what he's supposed to do next.
"You're gonna need somebody to wake you up every few hours," the nurse starts," if there isn't anybody, we're going to have to keep you here."
"It's okay. I have somebody to look after me," Spencer murmurs, trying to pull out his phone out of his jacket.
He wants to call you. He knows your shift is ending right about now so he hopes that you'll come home with him, and take care of him as well.
What he doesn't know, is that you're already on your way to his room. Your best friend, and fellow nurse, let you know about Spencer being admitted into hospital right away. And since your very long shift is finally over, the only thing on your mind is Spence.
You come to the room right as all of the team members discuss who's going to take care of Spencer. Spencer, on the other hand, is ignoring them, his focus on his phone.
You don't understand why he's frowning so much until you realise it. You pull out your phone, and see the missed phone calls. You smile to yourself, and step into your room.
"Sorry, I missed your calls. I had the phone on silence mode," you say as you make your way to Spencer. His whole face lights up at the sight of you.
"Oh, hi," he happily greets you, but then he frowns," are you really here or is the concussion making me see things?"
You chuckle at his words," Spence, yeah I'm really here. I got here as soon as I could when I heard you got hurt. What happened, huh?"
"Didn't see the guy, got caught off guard, and thrown against the wall. Well at least I think I remember it right," Spencer frowns some more, but smiles instantly when you go dote on him.
You look at his plastered forehead, and run your fingers over it slightly. You want to kiss him right there, but there's a cough behind your back. You sheepishly turn around.
Spencer's whole team is staring at you, wide eyed and completely baffled. "Hello," you greet them shyly.
"Spencer, aren't you gonna introduce us?" Derek is the one to ask with raised eyebrows.
"Uh, yeah, sorry," Spencer chuckles," this," he smiles big at you," is y/n, my girlfriend." He says it so proudly, too.
The team just stares at you two. The whole room stays in awkward silence, and you have to try very hard to not run out of there.
Thankfully, Penelope Garcia is as sweet as you've heard from Spencer, and she comes running towards you first. "Oh my gosh, hi. You're so so pretty, I can't believe Spencer has been hiding you from us," she hugs you," I'm Penelope."
It wakes up the others from the shock too, and they come to introduce themselves to you. They are just as nice as Penelope, you can see why Spencer loves them so much.
"How long have you guys been together?" Derek asks curiously. Spencer takes you hand in his, and starts to fiddle with your fingers. Completely ignoring Derek's questions, you think, he must have hit his head pretty hard.
"A few months now," you smile kindly at all of them," we've actually met here. I patched up Spencer's bruised cheek after one of your cases."
"Oh I remember it," Derek smirks," I wondered why Spencer left the hospital so happy. " Derek teases, but Spencer seems to not care like at all.
"Yeah it's true. She gave me her number, of course I was happy." Spencer states, rubbing his temples with his free hand. "Guys, I'd love for you to get to know each other more, but my head is killing so I just want to get home."
Spencer stands up from the bed, and grabs his belongings before he says his goodbyes, and pulls you out of there. You quickly say goodbye to them too with a promise of seeing them again soon.
"Spencer, that was so rude!" You scold him when you get outside of their earshot.
"Maybe, "Spencer grins at you," but I really do have a bad headache, and I just missed you so much. So can you blame me?"
You chuckle,"I missed you too, handsome. But you should be nicer to them."
Spencer just rolls his eyes which makes his head hurt even more," I am nice. Even if not, they can handle it." Spencer laughs when he sees your disapproving expression.
"C'mon, sweetheart, I'm just joking. Don't worry," Spencer in the moment of making your disapproving face go away swiftly leans in to give you a kiss.
"You better be," you banter.
Spencer laughs some more making the headache even worse.
Spencer groans a bit in pain which immediately draws your attention. "You okay? Is your head spinning?"
"Y-Yeah, I'm okay. Just got a bad headache," he assures you as you two finally reach your car, and get in.
"Don't worry, handsome. As soon as we get home, I'll make you feel better," you squeeze his hand before you start the car.
Spencer smiles, he can't say he's happy about being injured, but he is definitely happy to be loved on by you, "thank you, sweetheart. I can't wait."
#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid imagine#spencer reid fanfiction#spencer reid x fem!reader#spencer reid x y/n#spencer reid x you#spencer reid fluff#spencer reid
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DENY PART 3
oh my god ok here is part three to my little deny series. i also have a moodboard i've been making for this series so lmk if you wanna see it.
divider by @saradika and i've reblogged their post of it if you want to seem more of their dividers as they're so cute!!!
this part contains smut and is 18+ so MDNI please and thank you.
cw: p in v, unprotected sex (always imagine a contraceptive is used bc this will never be a pregnancy fic), dirty talk, clit slapping (just once)
click to read part one and part two. :)
dreams (nsfw 18+)
"look at you baby, creamin' around popes cock." jj moans at the sight in front of him.
"mmh feels good" you whine. hardly able to form words other than little uh uhs from how good pope is fucking you. his dick so deep you can feel it in your throat.
pope is a panting sweaty mess as he shoves his thick cock back into your sopping wet pussy. jj sitting behind you while pope takes you in missionary.
the feeling of jjs hands all over your sensitive body has your nerve endings on fire. you can feel his hard dick poking your back but he doesn't care about his pleasure right now, he only wants to see you and pope go over the edge of orgasmic pleasure.
"i'm close, pope please" you whine pathetically, jj pinching your nipples harder, sucking spots onto your neck.
"yeah? you gonna cum on my dick pretty girl?" pope asks with a grin. you like this side of him, his cockiness. he's been spending too much time with jj.
"please pope. wanna cum."
"should we let her cum handsome?" jj inquires and you let out another pathetic whine because you want it now! you don't wanna wait.
"yeah she's been such a good girl, haven't you?" pope responds
"yes! yes i'm a good girl i swear. i'm good right j?" you feel yourself squeezing popes dick harder in your tight little pussy. jj moans into the nape of your neck.
"yeah baby you can cum" the boys agree.
pope picks up his pace, dick hitting that squishy spongey spot inside you that makes you see stars.
"cum with me, pretty." pope demands
you don't need to be asked twice because next thing you know jj is squeezing you tighter, his fingers playing with your puffy abused clit, popes cock hitting your cervix with every thrust. you feel it building and building until jj smacks your clit with his fingers and you release.
you're screaming and shaking, clenching so tight that pope follows you seconds after. shooting his cum deep inside you, filling you with his warmth. you feel warm wetness on your back and part of you recognizes that jj also came, untouched, but you're too fucked out to really comprehend.
"grace" you hear your name but blood is rushing in your ears from the best orgasm you've ever had.
"grace!" you hear again but louder. it sounds distorted.
"jeeze, grace wake up!" you feel something soft thump on your face and next thing you know you're waking up with an annoyed groan. a pillow someone had thrown at you laying on your face, blocking your view of whatever rat bastard woke you from the best wet dream you've ever had.
"were you having a good dream princess?" you hear jjs cocky voice ask before you remove the pillow that's blocking your view.
"ya'we're makin lil noises too, wanna tell us about 'em?" the blonde boy teases.
you roll your eyes, used to jjs horny teasing when you comprehend his words. us. he said tell us.
you quickly sit up, pulling the blanket higher up your body as you take in the surroundings of your room. you see jj smirking with red cheeks and behind him is pope, fidgeting with his hands and tapping his feet.
"for your information i was having a good dream. why the fuck did you wake me!" you ask, exasperated. you're desperately trying not to feel the wetness between your thighs that has very clearly soaked through your cotton sleep shorts.
"you uh-" pope starts "you were saying our names."
"more like moaning them," jj snickers. you feel your face grow warm. "it was hot princess."
jjs words make you take in the two boys, inspecting every inch of them. jj has a very prominent bulge that he's not even trying to hide whereas pope is a little more reserved with his obvious boner but it's there nonetheless.
"umm what's going on?" the look jj gives you makes your tummy flutter and your nipples pebble. you want to blame the cool air but your room is stifling hot and you know the reaction is because of the maybank boy.
"what's happening is we came here to talk to you and walked in on you moanin our names princess. what do you have to say for yourself?" your cunt clenches at his words.
"jj- we were going to be subtle about this!" pope hisses, not wanting to scare you with their potential proposal.
"many people have wet dreams, jj. doesn't mean anything!" you respond with false confidence. completely ignoring whatever pope had just said.
"wanna make it a reality?" jj says, tone sultry as he leans in closer to your face. he looks at your lips like he wants to devour you.
you gasp and pull away, looking at pope with guilt.
this causes pope to walk over to the other side of the bed and join the two of you on it. he softly grabs your hand and your mind is spinning. you don't know what's happening because just a few days ago you saw the two kissing like their life depended on it and now jj is making a pass at you and pope looks like he wants you too? what. the. fuck.
"this isn't how it was supposed to go. we wanted to make it romantic but... i really like you grace," pope utters "we both really like you. more than a friend and we're hoping maybe you like us too?" pope gushes all in one breath is a very pope-like fashion.
the confession makes your brain short circuit because this is all you have ever wanted. you peek a look over to jj and he's nodding with a surprisingly soft smile he's always typically reserved for you.
"you both like me?" you think you're still dreaming
"yeah princess. i've only like been in love with you for forever" jj smiles softly. your heart soars.
"and you both like each other too, right?" you ask wanting to hear it being admitted out loud so there's no room for miscommunication.
"yeah pretty girl," pope responds and the nickname makes you flush, thinking back to your dream. "it's called polyamory."
"and not like those cult religions where a dude has like 50 wives" jj cuts in. "pope gave me a thorough lecture in the difference between polyamory and polygamy"
"i know what polyamory is jj" you giggle with a roll of your eyes. you still don't think this is real.
"so we would all be dating? like together? you'll be my boyfriends and eachothers boyfriends and i'll be your girlfriend?"
"correct, if you want us" pope confirms.
"of course i fucking want you!" you shout a little louder than you intended. "i've been half in love with you since we kissed and i think i've always loved you jj. seeing the two of you together made me so jealous and then sad and then jealous again! so yes of course i want you!"
the boys give you blinding smiles, the worry of potentially ruining your friendship disappears.
you lean forward and grab both boys in front of you. pulling them in. you need to feel their touch and their heat just to prove to yourself this is real and not some fantasy you've created to process your emotions.
"please kiss me" you breathily ask, which prompts both boys to lean in to kiss you at the same time, effectively making them bonk heads. it makes you giggle at their clumsy eagerness. your giggles prompt them to share the laugh as they tenderly touch their heads.
jj kisses you first and you feel the cliche sparks and fireworks. like everything you've ever wanted want given to you with just one kiss.
"don't hog her!" pope whines and he gently pulls you away from jj so he can have a turn.
popes kiss is different but not less perfect. he takes your breath away and you've never felt more loved sitting here in between the two boys you care so much about.
"now whose hogging her!" jj grumbles and leans in to peck pope on the cheek.
this is going to be so much fun.
AHHH WHAT DID YOU THINK??? i'm having so much fun with this.
tag list: (lmk if you wanna be added) 💜
@theoraekenslover
@redhead1180
#jj maybank#obx#outer banks#pope heyward#jj maybank x reader#my headcanons#jj maybank x oc#pope x reader x jj#pope heyward x reader#imagine#smut#jjpope#jj maybank smut#pope heyward smut
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“ but (brother) i love him ”
jason grace x daughter of poseidon ⚡️
a/n i saw someone wrote a fic with a super similar premise, i swear im not copying them, i just had bad timing of posting this
⚠️ swearing & references to sex and pregnancy
⋆｡˚ 𓇼 ⋆｡˚ 𓆝 ⋆｡˚
When Percy’s younger sister had joined the Seven on the Argo II, he hadn't expected to line up any boundaries. After all, why would any of the guys go after his baby sister. Even if she was only a year younger than him. However, that was until a day that had started like all the rest. Everyone had had breakfast that morning, gone over some plans, but when y/n subconsciously put her hair into a ponytail,
Percy looked up, “what’s that?”
Y/N froze as she locked eyes with her brother, “what’s what?”
He glanced around at everyone else. He raised an eyebrow, “on your neck?”
She nervously laughed, briefly looking towards the bewildered Jason, “oh, that?” she smiled, “I fell out of bed and hit my neck on my nightstand.”
“Really?” Percy crossed his arms, “when? That must’ve really hurt to have left two bruises.”
She nodded, puffing air out of her mouth, “yeah, it was yesterday. Let me tell you, it was a doozy.”
“I’m surprised you didn't mention before if it hurt that much.”
“Well, I, uh, forgot about it.”
“You forgot about it?” he nodded, “did you not, I don't know, look in a mirror?”
“Yeah, I was having a bad hair day, so-”
“Oh my gods,” Annabeth interjected, “you guys are actually painful to listen to.”
Piper agreed, “y/n, who was it?”
She stuttered, looking at everyone. Excuses cluttered her mind, not one seeming good enough to tell her brother. She took a deep breath before speaking again, “myself?”
“What the fuck?”
“It was me.”
Everyone’s eyes turned to Jason. Y/N eyes were torn between the two boys, she started wondering if Jason was actually going to be murdered right there and then.
“You made out with my sister?”
The blond locked eyes with the daughter of Poseidon, “no- technically, yes, but not just that, I- uhm.”
“Percy,” she added.
“What do you mean, not just that?”
Jason shook his head, “I don't mean, you know, I just mean that it wasn't like a one time thing-”
“What?”
“Percy-”
“Not like that, oh my gods,” the son of Jupiter panicked.
“What do you mean by that, weather boy?”
“I-”
“I’m having his baby!” Y/N finally said. Everyone stared at her in shock. Both Jason and Percy had gone completely silent while the former tried to speak, but was at a loss for words.
“You- what- but-”
She slowly nodded before bursting into laughter, “no, I’m totally not, but you should see your faces.”
Percy held his forehead, “Y/N.”
Jason let out a breath, “that wasn't funny.”
“Come on, Jase,” she smiled, “it was kinda funny.”
“Y/N, that was not at all funny,” her brother responded, trying to stifle a laugh, “as much as I hate to agree with the perv,” he sent a glare towards Jason.
Her smile dropped, “I was just trying to get you to listen to me,” she defended, “have you even considered how I feel about this?”
“I’m just looking out for you,” he responded, “as your older brother, I know what’s best.”
“Oh my gods,” she exclaimed in disbelief, “you're ridiculous, I’m leaving.” She shook her head before running off to her room. She frowned as she thought about how her brother could be ignorant to her feelings. She crawled into her bed, wrapping herself in the covers. She tried to hold in tears as her anger grew. She wanted to scream and yell at her brother about how much the son of Jupiter meant to her.
The door creaked open, followed by a soft, “hey.” She didn't look up as she pretended to be asleep, “I know you're awake.”
She grumbled, “go away, Perce.”
“I overreacted about you and Jason,” he admitted, “I’m sorry.”
She sat up, “you don't get it.”
“I don't,” he nodded, “but, it’s not like dad’s around a lot, I’m the one who should be protecting you.”
“You can protect me,” she added, “but not from the boy I love.”
Percy raised his eyebrows, “you love him?”
She sighed, “I really do.”
He looked away for a second, not speaking, “you should be with him, y/n.”
“You mean that?”
He nodded, “of course, but if he hurts you, I’ll make his shroud myself.”
She laughed, “okay, but I trust him not to.”
“Good,” he smiled, “I’ll leave you alone now.”
Seconds after he left, a blond boy walked in, “y/n?”
She looked up at her boyfriend, grinning, “hi, baby.”
His cheeks turned pink at the nickname, “what did Percy say?” He asked as he sat down on her bed.
“He's okay with us, as long as you don't hurt me,” she giggled.
He softly chuckled, “I won't,” he slowly moved a piece of hair behind her ear, “I love you.”
“That's what I told him.”
The door opened again, “time’s up.”
They both looked up, “what?” she spoke.
“I’m okay with you two dating,” he turned his attention to Jason, “but you still screwed my sister.”
“Percy!”
#jason grace#jason grace x reader#percy jackson#heroes of olympus#percy jackson and the olympians#jason grace x daughter of poseidon#daughter of poseidon#daughter of neptune#jason grace x daughter of neptune#cabin 3#cabin 1#jason grace x you#jason grace headcanon#jason grace fanfic#jason grace one shot#one shot#percy jackson oneshot#percy jackson x sister!reader
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Hello my wonderful fandom family :) We're finally back to new eps. I wasn't ready for this episode in the least. Idk I was ever gonna be ready tbh. If this isn’t the most apt ep name ever following the last ep. Bare with me as I once again sort through my thoughts and such. I'm really struggling with the 'mini' portion of these reviews the last few eps.
Ain't nothing mini about my emotions haha But I am sure come summer they'll be more refined for sure. Also thank you to anyone who reads these thoughts and enjoys them. It's still a trip to me people appreciate my thoughts. I just want to be a ray of sunshine and positivity with these.
A source of comfort while we all go through this together. Cause that's the beauty of fandom. Going through it together. Once again wanna preface there will be ZERO tolerance for bashing of any kind. They are both going through it right now. We all love these characters so much its why we're on here. I love conversation and comments but not spreading hate. With that in mind let's start eh?
6x07 Crushed
Tamara moving out still..... Ugh. I’m so sad about this. Truly the end of an era right here everyone. Also Lucy not wearing her necklace gut punch already to my feels...Poor Lucy wants her to stay but would never ask Tamara to do that. I wanna cry already for Lucy....I hate her necklace being missing and it's very obvious it's missing. *sad sigh*
I do love Lucy taking Tamara out to fancy dinner least. Channeling her emotions into something positive. Wanting to love on her before she goes. Tamara mentioning Tim getting kicked out of Metro…She isn’t wrong it is down hill after the pinnacle of Lucy indeed. Trying to give her a compliment but Lucy isn't taking it that way. I wanna cry for a second time. She looks so distressed. *sigh* Two massive pillars in her life are now gone and it's felt in this brief moment.
Tim in his old Metro office disassembling it. My heart. You all know how much I loved him In Metro. Killing me. Also just shows how much of a nose dive he took after this Ray debacle. Grey seeing this and sighing before going in after him. Tim seems like he’s in robot mode when Wade enters. Saying all the things he thinks Grey wants to hear since he’s back. No real emotion behind it. Just the grunt mentality he thinks he should have.
Gonna be more than just his trust you’re gonna need to earn back my love….Love Wade having him to ride along with Dr. London. Anyone needs it our boy does right now. Of course Tim bites back on this idea why wouldn’t he? Wouldn’t be Tim if he didn’t. Tim saying breaking up with Lucy has nothing to do with the Ray situation. Uh... it has everything to do with that my love EVERYTHING.
Grey standing his ground saying if he wants to regain his trust this is where it starts. I love him saying breaking up with Lucy and being bounced back to patrol due to being reckless makes him question his judgement. As it should…You forget Timothy this man watched you grow with Lucy for years. Saw how much she made you grew and joy she brought out in you. Of course he is questioning your actions. He just watched you throw away the best thing ever that's ever happened to you. Your judgement is being judged severely....
I adore Wade Grey. He's not only putting Tim in his place and saying he could mandate therapy (which he would be justified in doing...) Or take the ride along. Then saying he’s taking Lucy out too. Just so he knows he is looking out for them both in this moment. The man knows what he is doing.
I can’t believe Smitty doing breakup odds. I’m incensed by this tbh. Also I want punch the dude who said Tim would’ve cheated. He would NEVER. How very dare you. I hate that list. It makes me wanna rage out so hard. If any of them knew them at all they’d know it would never be something like that. Also her and Aaron? Ewww no no no.... Lucy had every right to ream Smitty out more than she did. So inappropriate it's insane. For shame sir truly.
I'm glad she shut it down. Last thing they need is the station gossiping about them like this. They're going to anyways but Ugh I hate this whole thing. I feel sick. Of course she runs into Tim right after.... Worst timing ever. Breaks my heart because he still is excited to see her but she isn't ready for him. How could she be? He looks so sad. But Tim what are you expecting my love? No way she is ready to be near you let alone talk. This hurts to watch…Lucy trying so hard just not to have a meltdown right there in the station.
I was very excited for him to have this ride along I will say and this opening scene is why. Dr London on his ass already. I love it. As she should be. Saying he’s bringing Aaron as a buffer. Which he is… Classic avoidance attachment style. That’s our boy. She’s not wrong he prefers surface level relationships (other than Lucy...) to a deep intimacy. His default state with anyone who isn't his girl.
She has him dead to rights already. Saying it’s a defense mechanism when someone is raised by an overly strict or domineering parent. A father. She’s not wrong. We all know his history. Tim of course isn’t about this whatsoever only making her assessment about him even more valid. Their scenes starting off real strong.
Grey wanting to check in on Lucy I do love it. He’s not wrong she’s been through HELL this year. The detectives exam, Jeff Budney and now losing Tim. God this hasn’t been an easy season for her. To say she's going through it is the understatement of the century. I'm hurting for her so very much. Her entire world has been rocked to it's very core in the last week alone. Not mention everything else before this.
It’s so awkward Lucy inviting everyone but Tim to Tamara’s going away dinner…. In front of Dr. London too. That shot from Tim’s body cam seems very intentional. As he looks at everyone she’s inviting but him. Way his head goes back and forth. Grey patting Tim on the arm on the way out. *phew* Rough start to the shift.
Of course their first call is disturbingly close to what she and Tim are dealing with. Not exactly what Lucy needs. Hearing this woman talking about thinking he was the one then it just ended. *heart clutch* Crushed is an apt name for how I was feeling during this episode.
Lucy has clearly kept this all inside for too long with her reaction to the situation. Wade would never set you up like that. Just shows how hyper sensitive she is atm. Why he's doing this ride along with her. He wants to keep you sane not crazy. I wanna hug her so much. 'I do watch too much reality tv. It's my bad' Lmao. Needed a little levity. This made me chuckle.
We hit the ground running about breakups with Dr. London. Honestly no need to beat around the bush for this observation of Tim. ‘Breakups are a trigger for many men. Especially since stereotypical gender roles prevent them from seeking out help. For fear of appearing weak.’ If that isn’t Tim and this entire situation right now…
Hell that's his ENTIRE life. He was shamed into never wanting help and if he did he was meant to feel weak for it. Just like she is stating above. She is very good at her job and just getting started. Tim can't hide in any of his normal brush off statements. Which I love. She has him pegged already and it shows. Quite the opening jab from her to start this off.
Lucy looks on verge of tears at all times right now and I’m dying. Especially when Grey brings up his name. Asking if they’ve talked since the breakup? Melissa straight killing me in this shop right now everyone. Those pre tears.....Saying she thought he didn’t care about her personal life. He’s not wrong if it affects her job it does matter. The point of this ride-along. To gauge where she is currently.
‘Smart to make the connection between IA and them breaking up. ‘Just a bad week.’ Oh its so much more than that…. Lucy protects him of course with the unethical portion. Bad place or not she's not going to cast any suspicion with that. But It’s so very clear she is painfully unaware why he did this to her. To them.
Only that he’s not emotionally available to her. *sigh* This is true. The man is a disaster zone atm. I mean he’s definitely occupied mentally in a way she doesn’t understand yet. Hell I don’t even think Tim understands it really. All he knows is he think's he's toxic and she’s better off without him. Which is a huge part of this episode tbh.
So she isn't wrong he is not emotionally available right now. That much is painfully true. The joke about the Diamondbacks was funny but sad at the same time. They found good way of getting little funnies in there with Grey. I do appreciate that. I'm a sports girl so I this made me smile.
Dr London really coming at Tim in this next section. She is wasting ZERO time with him. ‘Lot of romantic feelings start out as platonic love.’ Going right for it when she says he and Lucy were friends first right? His reaction…Gonna makes me bawl Eric. Hurts to watch this. Looks like he wants to cry. Ugh Tim. Killing me softly. She is getting under his skin quicker than he was expecting and you can tell. Hitting at a very raw nerve he's trying to keep hidden. He looks so distraught and emotional when he replies 'I was her T.O.'
Tim saying he’s not depressed. Oh my love….but you are. Depressed and wracked with a massive amount of guilt. ‘I broke up with her.’ So so defensive. Can’t let good doctor see this whole thing is crushing him. That would be weakness. He is fighting off a panic attack in this moment. So unsettled by this entire interaction. She is picking up on that guilt that is all but exuding out of him in this moment.
She really brings it home saying internalizing guilt and shame leads to self directed anger. Self harm and suicide. If that isn't Tim Bradford my god. The self directed anger is him in spades. His face while she tells him all this.. Oh my lord. She has him dead to rights once again. He is experiencing so much guilt about it and it’s written all over his face. Tim is barely keeping it together while she is telling him stonewalling will only get him sidelined. Honestly I’m glad she’s confronting him like this. Coming at him so hard cause Tim needs that especially right now.
He can’t have passive people in this life when it comes to this kind of stuff. The one person who could knock sense into him he’s pushed away. So Dr. London being here is much needed. Of course Tim snaps at Aaron cause he can’t handle what he’s currently going through. Lashing out because what she is saying to him is true and he isn't able to handle it. Hitting very close to home. So he's defaulting back to S1 Tim in this moment. Destroying Aaron in the process..
I love them talking about Tamara and the unconditional love Lucy has shown her. It’s so true. It’s that love that gave her courage to leave. Even though it's hard to watch happen. It shows what accepting unconditional love can do for you. Lucy bringing back to Tim because how could she not? Mentioning about letting people go even if you really care about them them. *sigh*. You can tell she is on the verge of tears once again.
That feeling where you've been keeping it inside for far too long. It comes out in anything you talk about. Like right now in this moment. Even talking about Tamara is cycling back to Tim and it shows how deeply upset she is. How could she not be? She is losing two of her people in one fail swoop. It's a miracle she hadn't lost it sooner than this moment tbh.
Lucy crushing me some more in this episode. Further proving she has zero idea why Tim did what he did. How he could let go so easily. It was a blindside for us all but none more than for her. His person. The one who never ever expected him to leave her side. Tim did leave her with a cheap cliche nonsense about deserving better. It's so much complex than that but I can see why she is so angry about that. She deserved better than that.
It’s what upset her so much in that 6x06 scene. Because it felt like a cop out to her. When it’s so much deeper than that but Lucy doesn’t know that. Thats what killing me and her. Lucy going off saying it was her decision to make what she deserves. It’s true. She is so justified in saying this. Sadly Tim made that decision despite her willingness to love him no matter what.
Took away her choice to keep him even if he felt he wasn't worthy. Wasn't just HIS choice to make. That's what pissing her off and rightfully so. He doesn’t understand the unconditional love she had to give him or how to accept it. All he could see was how much better she was without him. All she wants is a real conversation with him and she didn't get to have that. He took the choice away from her and she's left holding the emotional bag of it all and it sucks.
Punches keep rolling with Dr London. Attacking his problem at it's damaged root. As much as he is trying to bury it he cannot hide from her and her assessment of him. This is a huge turning point in the ep. Tim saying he owns his mistakes and moves on. So cut and dry and she isn’t having ANY of it. Nor should she. He hasn’t moved on in the slightest. Once again pegging him for not only not being over it but having his whole identity being wrapped up in acting honorably. If he was past that he wouldn’t have ended things with Lucy. We wouldn't be here. But he feels not worthy and not honorable enough for Lucy so he cut ties.
Her noting it’s had a devastating effect on his self esteem. Which is why he is punishing himself. i.e He let the love of his life go. He feels he doesn’t deserve such things for being so un-honorable. My broken boy. Tim isn’t sure what’s she is getting at. Asking what she's talking about? She continues to portray him accurately. That he is punishing himself by depriving himself of something he loves. Something that brings him joy. Or someone....Clearly that someone being Lucy.
The joy she brought to his life he no longer feels he deserves. Lucy was the one constant in his life that made him happy. So he’s depriving himself of it in order to punish himself. This sounds so harsh and severe but I relate to this. When I was new at my current job. I wasn’t very good at first. I was down right on the verge of being fired. I got a game plan to fix myself from my leader. BUT I was punishing myself for not being good enough in the first place. How did I do this? I took away something I loved and brought me joy. Music.
I refused to listen to music during my job because I felt I didn’t deserve it. I wouldn’t let myself enjoy it till I was better and had earned it back. I got to a place where I let myself have something I loved back and it helped so much and ultimately got me through it. So I relate to Tim doing this to himself i really do. He is denying the one person who brings him joy because of that self-punishment. He feels he has failed who he should be therefore he can't have what he wants and needs most. Lucy. You can really see it hit Tim by time Aaron rejoins them. She hit the nail on the head and Tim is feeling it.
Lucy spotting Tim and touching her tattoo SO MUCH. Ugh my heart. Her grounding method to remind herself she's a survivor. The problem with all that is him being the reason for that reminder. Which just hurts. I'm not crying you are....Tim so out of his depth all he can do is be awkward with his ‘Clocking out?’ Babe....No...(Also I feel personally attacked by this song they chose for this scene.)
Lucy calling him out for it instantly. Because well she’s his person. Bad place or not she is always gonna tell him what he needs to hear. Won't let him hide behind niceties. Confronting that things aren't ok between them and she won't let him use it to hide. Asking for a real adult conversation with him. One which he is NOT ready for. This hurt to watch not gonna lie. This whole situation hurts.
Tim deflects….with another cheap answer of saying he can’t give her what she wants. Ugh. You are everything she wants you foolish man. I don’t blame Lucy for cutting that convo off at the knees. She wanted more depth from him and got nothing in return. Telling him he has more to figure out than she realized…and feeling like she is no longer than person to help him with that.
My heart is breaking all over again… Lucy always felt she was his person to get him through anything and to hear this only hurts her further. Coming to that realization and taking off because of it. The song running through this scene is poignant and hurtful…Also the continual clutching to her tattoo as she departs from him. I'll just be weeping in the corner don't mind me....
I wasn't expecting the scene we got here in Grey's office. But was so pleasantly surprised. My hope was that Dr. London broke through to him. That his ride along with her wouldn't be a one-off. I’m so proud of Tim I can't even tell you. To not only see he has work to do but to ask if he could start seeing her as a patient. He seemed disappointed she didn't mandate sessions. Which he needed so he could advocate for himself. Blair had pegged him early on and I think this will be so so good for him.
His healing journey is starting now and I’m so excited for him. Even though my heart is outside my chest right now for our couple. This is going to be good for Tim. I know people have been weird about Dr London. I haven’t gotten a bad feeling from her. I could be wrong but haven't gotten that. I think this is the healing Eric was talking about. That journey he needs to be in order to find his way back to Lucy. Grey's line was perfect. It's SO hard to ask for help. Tim can see something is wrong and wants to fix it. This is a beautiful start to this journey for him.
This final scene with Tamara and Lucy made me cry. This whole ep has made me cry really. Their relationship has always been one of my favorites. To watch how they’ve both grown. How Tamara learned to trust again and receive that unconditional love Lucy had to give. Gah I love it so much. Took a broken untrusting girl and molded her into a confident bad ass. I've never been able to classify what they are. They're sisters, friends and family all wrapped up in one.
Hard to watch Lucy lose this piece of her life on top of everything else. Tim may have a lot of growth to do but I think Lucy too has room to grow from this all as well. She has been given quite the bad hand in this season. Maybe she can get some direction and clarity what she wants to do with career and such. I hate that she has to be the collateral damage to everything this year. It's hard to watch. But I am interested to see how she handles it all. See how she stands after all this. I think as hard as this is will end up making her more resilient.
Lucy been struggling with her own stuff this year as well. Being so good about pegging everyone around her but being blind in her own self awareness. it's going to be interesting to see how Lucy handles everything moving forward. I hope you all know how deeply my heart breaks for her. I don't like seeing her hurt anymore than I do Tim. I wanted to cry for her most of this episode. That being said I do think this growth journey will be good for her as well. Like Eric said she'll be ok they'll grow stronger from it. Can't wait to see how it plays out.
I wasn’t expecting one more scene with him reaching out like this. Telling her she was right. He’s mad himself. That stark realization that is coming over him. My god I’m so proud of him I could burst. Not only advocating for himself but telling her it was an emergency. When everything inside him is trying to do the 'honorable thing' and not call it an emergency when it is. To see he's not being a burden by reaching out like this. It’s so hard to take care of yourself when you don’t think much of yourself. It’s a foreign feeling and to act on it even more so.
Learning it’s ok to ask for help, to be imperfect, to set healthy boundaries and grow. Not an easy place to get to. This scene is HUGE for Tim. Now I mean this in the nicest way I can muster but If you can't grasp how groundbreaking this is for him you don't get him as a character at all. Nor do you understand the gravity of this SL/situation. Of what this final scene represents for him. Tim is seeing something is broken within himself and he doesn't know how to fix it. All he knows is something is wrong and he doesn't want to feel this way anymore. He wants to understand why and to get better.
I know I spent most of my 20's running away from therapy. Saying I didn't need it. That it was non sense. Pushing everything down and deflecting like Tim did. Wrapping my identity in the same things. Being SO DAMN HARD on myself. I still struggle with this but learning to give myself more grace. I can't properly explain the feeling you get when you realize you can't out run your demons anymore. What sets off something inside you that says 'I don't feel right, I don't know how to fix it but I know it's time to.' All I know is what sets it off is different for everyone.
For me it was the fact that I was set off by a kind comment. It was from a sweet lady who was a client of mine. Who commented on earrings my mother had gotten me. I hadn't thought much of it then she looked me in the eye with so much sincerity and said 'Your mother must love you very much.' That comment just hit me so hard. Triggered me. Cause some of my deepest seated trauma comes from my mom. I remember getting in my car and crying after. Texting my sister and telling her I thought it was time I got help. All I knew was something was wrong and it was clawing to the surface and I couldn't ignore it any longer.
That's Tim in this moment. Ray resurfacing was his demons coming up for air and not going away. This is his 'Come to Jesus.' moment about himself. Knowing what Dr. London was telling him today rang true. He just doesn't know to handle it and is reaching out for help to sort it out. Now He couldn’t gotten to this place without Lucy let’s not forget that. Tim wouldn't be in the place he is without her. BUT this is not Lucy's responsibility to fix. Nor should it be. As much as we love her being his person, this is Tim journey to go on.
Now my family/friends got me to place where I could see I needed help. Just like Lucy has for Tim. But it was up to me to take the first step. That's what this scene represents for him. His first step on his journey to healing himself. He knows he has work to do and I know he'll do it. He and I are alike and he will put his all into this. I'm excited the writers did what they did in this ep. Shows they're going to put the proper care into this SL. I can see a pathway way to their healing now and I feel like I can breathe for the first time in three weeks. I'm excited to see where the rest of the season goes for them both I really am. As always thank you for any likes, comments or reblogs I get for these they mean the world.
~~~
Side notes-non Chenford. Mostly lol
I like the idea of Celina moving in but she’s not wrong it would be an emotional minefield… but do love the idea of her living Lucy I don’t want her to be alone. Have one little win for her.
This was the song during that finale scene. Thank you D to finding the link above. it's Chenford Personified in this ep. Once again whoever is doing this songs. You need a damn raise this hurt so good. The lyrics were so Poignant and painful. These one were my fav. 'I miss you. I miss you. I’ll always
forgive you."
She will forgive Tim because that's who Lucy is. One of the many reasons Tim fell in love with her. That never ending desire to trust people and forgive them. To see the best in them. She will look at the deeper meaning of his actions and help him past them once he gets there himself. He will have to earn that forgiveness of hers and I have no doubt he will.
This will be a process of that I have no doubt. It won't be quick or easy but my god it'll be worth it. They always are. I don't expect this to be resolved by seasons end but I do expect them to be on their way there by the finale. This is a beautiful growth journey they're about to embark on and I'm ready to go on it.
#Caitlin's mini reviews#chenford#6x07 Crushed#s6#the rookie 6x07#tim x lucy#tim bradford#lucy chen#lucy x tim#eric winter#melissa o'neil#the rookie#otp: doing my job#otp: unless it is
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Acting The Part
I was a film student, that means I had to play a lot of roles. Mostly, however, I remained the one behind the cameras. Why? Well it was simply because I was pretty humble... in my own words, others would call me shy and reserved.
I had a project coming up, a final film for the semester. Had to be within the genre we were working for an unfortunately for me that was romance. I was not good with romance, obviously of course. I was shy. So... that was why I partnered up with a few buddies, Chris, Tony, Danielle, and Skylar. It was an optional group project due to how big it was. Unfortunately one guy who was left out was Brian. A total douche, called himself a sigma and everything. Totally full of himself.
Saw himself being the star too, always was in the movies... although with his ripped abs, jawline, and general physique... it was obvious why he thought he would be in the group... so we started scripting. It went well at first, that was until Brian started butting in. Asked if his girlfriend could be the love interest. This was supposed to be a group project and so we said no, Danielle would be covering that part. He whined about it until Skylar came up to me to ask something. "Do we need Brian here?" He asked softly, so he didn't actually hear. He was off arguing with Tony again, Go figure.
"Well... I did have an idea..." I admitted. Of course this idea was also a bit rude. We would simply do the script without him. Meetup some times, make excuses. It worked for a while until he started to get suspicious. He was stupid but he wasn't that stupid.
About a week into scripting, everything was coming out well. We almost had it done and we even had a role for Brian! Now we weren't going to tell him until the day of, and seeing how he needed this for a good grade... he'd have to go along with it. Well that was what I thought until he stopped me on the way to a class. "Hey [Y/N], how's it hangin." He put his hand beside my head as I leaned against the wall. He asked a simple question, quite friendly too... if it wasn't for his threatening tone. "Been a while, started to think my film partner died. That would have been bad." He chuckled and let up a bit. "Why don't we talk about the script for a bit.
"I uh..." I tried to speak up but he put his hand on my back as he walked me away from the class I had next.
"You say somethin? No? Okay well good, we're goin someplace nice and comfortable." He started to walk me out of the building and through the campus. Some people stared at us, I mean a star football player and some film student would draw some eyes. Eventually we got to the bleachers of the football stadium. It was super empty and due to Brian having a part time job cleaning the place he had keys.
We sat down on some metal bleachers near the announcer's box and he had me get out my laptop. "So, run me through the script. Last I heard I was going to be the star?" He smirked a bit. This would be hard to break.
"Well uh... I'll just uh... we made some changes but everything's still very flexible!" I tried to assure him. I started at where it would begin, a nerd getting bullied. The bully was played by... Brian. he wasn't too happy but was willing to hear me out. Then I went through the story slower, more cautiously to not offend the giant oaf. Stuff about the nerds banding together... having a fun time and ultimately the nerd getting the nerdy chick. Danielle was supposed to play the nerdy girl, Skylar wanted to be the main character. I would be the camera man and director. Brian looked annoyed. "So... this sucks."
"Wait what? What about it sucks? Is it just because you're not the main star? You know what'd be weird." I tried to fight back. It was partially my script.
"Lemme guess, your buddy Skylar wrote a lot of it." I looked down and did have to agree... so I nodded, Skylar was a great writer though! "Look man, I know you don't like being in front of the camera and stuff but this might be your last little movie, why not have fun with it? How is this fair to you at all?" Wait was Brian sticking up for me?
"I uh... I guess it's not... But I don't really like being the star." I looked at the bigger guy who was now being oddly nice.
He sighed. "Yeah, and I'm not sayin you have to be. I mean you gave me a pretty raw deal." Brian looked oddly sad.
I was always the one to make peace... god damn it... would I really do this? I had to... "Well uh... what would you propose to change that stuff?" I asked, nervous to what he would propose.
"Well, here's my idea. We swap some roles around. Make it better for all of us. Skylar can run the camera this time, he always gets to be in front of it." I nodded, Skylar could be a competent camera man... "Glad you agree, then I can take his role as a nerd and you can be the rival... hell maybe you can get your own babe out of it."
"Wait, what?" I looked at the big guy confused. Him? The nerd? No way. And me as the rival? How the hell would I do that? "I don't think that'll work. I mean we should cast for what we're good at and..."
Brian cut me off, "Yeah and I'm pretty nice, right?" I looked at him, he was looking me right in the eyes. I nodded, not wanting to be rude. "Exactly! So I should be given the chance to play a fun nice guy!" His smile was reassuring but I still had issues.
"Yeah but I really don't think people will buy me as a douchebag..." I sighed and scratched my head. It was true. I was smaller, weaker, and dorky as hell.
"Well, sure, right now you don't but trust me! I got some ideas that can help you! But it's what someone would call... method acting. Probably heard of it."
"That sounds like a dumb idea, I'll be honest. I mean... that'll just get me bullied.... more than usual at least." I sighed, feeling like this was going nowhere.
"Nah, trust me bro. I mean if you stick with me I'll vouch."
"But I barely have any classes with you aside from film related ones." I looked a bit confused. How would that work.
"Well here's the deal. I can talk to my professors, tell them you wanna do some stuff and I'm sure with a little flexing of my status... we can get you in for the few more weeks or months we have left of class this semester. It's not gonna be much, mister straight As." He was going to do that for me?
"I guess... I could see how this goes... I could use a break before my other finals..." I chuckled a bit nervously, which made him pat my back, almost flinging me out of my seat.
"There we go! Here's my phone number and..." He grabbed my phone and put his number and contacts in, "We should be good to go, send me a link to the script btw! Gotta work on that thing!
That night I sent him the link, and felt oddly nervous about this. I mean... it was like starting a whole new life! I hadn't been in front of the cameras in a while so that would be nerve racking too! Brian's advice was to "Not think about it." Seemed he could go his whole life without thinking about much.
The next day we spent working out, and working on attitude. His girlfriend Tori came over during some of it and Brian said it would be a great time to practice confidence. I didn't nail it. He had a good laugh though and she took it in stride. Overall a good Saturday.
The day after that we worked on some more muscle, while also just hanging out again... this time some of his douchey friends came over. He was saying this was both confidence and some experience training. Like being in job training. Eventually I somewhat grew accustomed to them. They all were charismatic and handsome too. I felt oddly at home near some of them, hell I even threw some insults back at them when they came my way. I wasn't great at it yet.
Day three of this shit and I was now walking around with Brian and his little group. Seemed most of them had the same classes. I got stopped in the hall though by a classmate. He tried to direct me to class but... as per a whispered instruction... I mocked him and his shit haircut. After classes we worked out, seemed like this was something I had to do... Brian and Tanner, one of Brian's friends who was more in on it, said this was to make me not sound like a dork when referencing sports and shit. Good reason...
My the next week I was already feeling the burn. Skylar and the others were a bit pissed at me for blowing off our group meetings for hangouts with Brian and his crew. I told him I was method acting and he should get off my case. Well he didn't take it too well. "Well maybe you should stop being in our fucking shit if you like Brian that much!" That was a bad insult.
I yelled back. "Well, maybe if you didn't try to hog the limelight all the time I wouldn't be doing this shit!" It kind of just came out of me. For some reason... Skylar looked a bit... weaker and smaller than me. "Besides, not like you could even carry a movie with that fuckin acne." I may have went too far, he looked pissed and I felt awful. He stormed off leaving me alone...
I had a party that night, at the frat. Brian noticed me looking down the entire time. Came to comfort me. "Bro, trust me. He deserved it. I mean he's always been pushing you back and the moment you try and get out there and have fun he tries to put you back down? Not cool, you know that."
"Yeah but... I don't wanna fuck shit up with my friends and all that." I said with a red solocup in my hand.
"Well... maybe you're better off without them. I mean the only one I see potential in is maybe Danielle." I nodded.
"Yeah, Tony is a nobody, Skylar is a pussy... And I was both. Still feel bad for Danielle." I had a crush on her before.
"Well don't go around pussyfooting. I'm sure we can change the script and as her to method act too! I mean how much fun has it been for you, Oliver."
"Oliver?" I laughed and looked at Brian, "Why'd you call me that?"
"Oh! Well I had an idea. Just a small one. I mean why not go by your character's name? You are supposed to be method acting!"
"Yeah... Oliver... that... works well." I smiled. I mean I did look like an Oliver now... or at least the character! I didn't know how but in retrospect god my body was wimpy. Now I looked fire as hell!
The next few days would be painfully awkward. Skylar would try and salvage the script, much to the annoyance of Brian and I. There were two sides clashing and I knew which one sounded better, Skylar was just doing this for himself. Eventually Brian and I started a secret document, included Danielle in there too. Got them over Discord on a call to talk about the newer idea. By now we had enough of the nice guy act. Brian thought it was way too soft... he pitched the new idea. "Why don't we, instead of doing whatever that little soy boy wants, do our own thing. Like... Why don't we do something where the bullies got some character."
Danielle was hesitant. "Well what about the others? And what would my role be?"
I had an answer already. "Well we need a camera man and Tony, by far, is the best of Skylar and him. I mean I could do it but I've worked pretty hard."
"[Y/N]..." Danielle sighed, She was getting tired of this.
"Dani, it's Oliver or Ollie. I'm taking it pretty serious as you can see." I smiled. into the webcam which I never used before... hell my whole profile changed. Near daily pics of me were my banner and icon instead of some anime boy.
Brian nodded a bit. "So, we want you in this film too Dani, you're a great actress but we want you to practice your new role. You'll be Ollie's bitchy GF, like a mean girl kinda thing."
"But that isn't...." She got cut off by me again.
"Look, Dani... I know it ain't your style but this isn't mine either. To be a star you have to make sacrifices, and playing the part is the thing. I already asked and Tori can help you get into role. And hey, we can hang more if you do... I mean if you want my place is pretty open." It was an invite to fuck. By now I was still a virgin, even if Brian tried to change that many times.
"Okay..." She finally agreed. Thank god this was getting annoying.
Eventually we got our crew together. Some guys from the soccer team for scrawnier nerds, some guys from Brian's crew to be our friends and... Danielle was coming along fine. My type had shifted a bit, especially now that I could have options... they were molding her real nicely.
Skylar soon got wind of our plan but by now it was too late to stop. I was getting ready for the first day of filming. I had my body in peak performance, all done up by one of Tori's friends. And he came over to yell at me. Not congratulate me. By this point I just had Alex, one of Brian and I's friends walk him off the little set we staged. Students would be happy to actually get in this film. I mean we were big stars around campus and we knew it.
People loved how I changed. I became a star. I mean... with my now blonde hair, scuffy facial hair, ripped abs, giant body... who wouldn't. Brian helped me realize something. I was made to be in front of the cameras. I was made to be a star. Danielle would realize that in time too.
As for the filming... it went spectacular. We all got great grades, hell... we started helping Tony out with getting better himself! I mean... we'd need it if we wanted to make more of these. It was a fun parody film... even if it was meant to be serious. The audience didn't get it but whateves. Wasn't my problem. I just didn't have to think too hard about it.
Within months I asked out Danielle, she said yes... of course. We became a new power couple. I urged her to join a sports team like I was doing. I started football like Brian. We did well as a team... also started power lifting and by god I was great! Danielle did gymnastics and by god was she flexible. Eventually I had my name changed. I was welcomed into Brian's family pretty easily too... so I adopted his last name. We were the Greene brothers.... started small with acting and sports but soon, through some modeling and commercials... we started getting big.
As for Skylar... who knows what became of that no name wannabe. He didn't take his shot. Maybe if he was more eager he could have ended up as a male model like Tony. Eh, not my problem. I just played my part and helped everyone around me. That's what being a star is for... you play your part and you like it... And I love it.
#alpha male tf#alpha muscle#jock#male body swap#jock tf#male tf#male transformation#mental transformation#mtm tf#alpha jock#jock bulge#college jock#male jock#jockification#transformation#forced masculinization#masculine#douche#alpha men#alpha worship#alpha man#male to male#mind change#mental change#male body possession
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hihi angel! i’m sorry tumblr keep eating ur asks 😔 i sent in a few but i don’t think you got them so here’s one!:
so, let's say that r and sevika have been married for a few years now. things have definitely mellowed out so they try something new!
every once in a while sev and reader will play a game. the rules are: go out to a club/bar, act like we don't know each other, one of us tries to seduce the other, whoever manages to get the other "in bed" wins.
how would this play out?
🌕
i love this so much.
men and minors dni
you sigh, taking another sip of the wine in front of you as you shuffle through the papers on the bar. it's finals season, and as a professor, you're swamped with grading.
you rarely take work outside of school or your little desk at home, but you needed a change of environment after grading papers for six hours straight in your apartment. so, here you are, a little tipsy and trying to keep your grading as harsh as usual as the alcohol mellows you out.
"professor?" a voice rasps out. you look up from your papers, pushing your reading glasses up to sit on your head, and blink at the woman in front of you.
you recognize her, vaguely. you teach five different classes, the average class size is close to 200 students. so you don't know her name. but as you study her face, she becomes more familiar to you. you smile.
"you're the one who's always cracking open a red bull in the middle of my lectures." you accuse, pointing at the woman in front of you.
she chuckles and nods, ducking her head in embarrassment.
"sorry. three hour lecture at five o'clock... i get sleepy." she admits. you chuckle.
"i'm not entertaining enough for you?" you ask. she gasps.
"no! y-you're very entertaining! my favorite class! i just have to get up early on tuesdays so i'm tired by the ti--"
"relax." you cut her off, giggling. "i hate the evening classes too. mostly, i'm just sad you've never brought me a red bull."
she grins. "i'm sevika." she thrusts her hand forward. you shake it, smiling at her.
"hello, sevika. i think i remember your paper." you say, chuckling.
"really?"
"mhm. just graded it an hour ago." you nod.
she sits in the stool next to you, grinning. "well?" she asks. you chuckle.
"well, what?"
"how'd i do?" she asks. you smirk at her.
"well, i can't tell you that." you say. she pouts.
"no?" she asks. you shake your head no. she hums, then turns around and flags down the bartender. "another, for her. and a whiskey for me." she requests. he nods and walks away, and you raise an eyebrow at your student.
"i'm still not telling you your grade."
"what, i can't buy my favorite professor a drink at the end of the semester as a thanks?" she asks. you roll your eyes and lean back in your stool, willing to entertain this for a few minutes before you go back to grading. you need a quick break anyways.
"am i really your favorite, or are you just saying that?" you ask. the bartender delivers your drinks, and you take a sip while sevika answers.
"no, you're my favorite by far." she promises. you snort.
"so, sevika, what're you studying?" you ask.
sevika chokes on her whiskey, glares at you, and then composes herself. you have to bite back a laugh. "uh... math?" she guesses.
you burst into laughter. "'re you guessing or telling?"
"telling." she decides, nodding. "math."
you have to bite your lip to keep from surging forward and kissing her right here and now. her eyes catch on the action, and you have to kick her under the bar to keep her from doing anything stupid. "and how did you find yourself in an english class, math major?"
sevika grins, and scoots even closer to you. "i heard the professor was a stunner." she says. "wanted to see for myself. i would've dropped the fuckin' class if it wasn't you teaching. i hate writing. but... it's nice lookin' at you for three hours a week." she whispers.
you gulp, reaching forward to tuck a strand of her hair behind her ear. "that explains your horrible paper."
sevika bursts into laughter, then downs the rest of her drink. you do the same, sensing that your night might be headed somewhere else. "is there anything i can do for extra credit?" she asks, her eyes trailing down your body.
butterflies explode in your stomach. you tilt your head to the side, examining your student and licking your lips. "i think i could figure something out." you say.
thirty minutes later, you're back at your place, sevika on her knees in front you as she helps you get into your strap harness.
you help her stand again once she's done, and then jump on her bed and make yourself comfortable in the middle. she blinks at you.
"what?"
"why're you laying down?" sevika asks, as she crawls onto bed after you. you chuckle as she hovers over you, pulling her down for a kiss.
"honey, if you want the extra credit, you gotta earn it." you mumble against her lips. you have to bite your tongue to keep from laughing at the way sevika's eyes go all wide and glossy. "now be a good girl 'n ride it."
sevika's breath trembles, and she scrambles to follow your instructions, quickly straddling your hips and lining your cock up to her.
sevika doesn't hesitate to sink down and take you in a single go. it makes you whimper. she grins, her eyes rolling in the back of her skull as she adjusts to the stretch. you sink your fingers in her hips, grinning up at her. "there you go, baby."
"f-fuck." she whines as she starts grinding small circles against you. "fuck. been dreamin' about this."
you giggle. "yeah?" you ask. sevika leans forward, planting her hands on either side of your shoulders as she starts to ride you. you both groan.
"y-yes. god, fuck, it's your voice. i re-watch the lectures you post online 'n touch myself to the sound of you." she whimpers. you gasp, pleasure coursing through you at her revelation, and start thrusting in time with sevika's movements, desperate for more.
"shit, baby, tell me more." you whine.
your eyes are locked on her tits-- swaying in time with her movements. sevika's muffling her moans against the top of your head. "ffffuck-- fuck, love those glasses you wear." she whines.
you chuckle. "yeah?"
"and those fuckin', shit, ah, those blazers." sevika whines.
you smack her ass. she gasps, pulls away to glare at you. you smirk up at her. "keep goin' baby, you got a D on your paper." you encourage. sevika rolls her eyes and flicks your forehead, and you burst into giggles pulling her in for a kiss.
"pause." she whispers against your lips. you hum, nodding up at her, waiting to hear what she needs to tell you as your real-life wife.
"you okay?"
"i'd never get a D on a paper, babe. c'mon." she huffs. you burst into laughter, smacking her ass again before pulling her in for another kiss.
"how's C sound?"
"fine." she grunts, before sitting up and starting to ride you again. "unpause." she grunts. "so, where's my grade at now, professor?" she asks.
you giggle up at her, palming at her tits. "well, you started at a C." you emphasize. sevika nods, grinning down at you. you chuckle. "i'd say you're at a solid B+ now." you say. she grins.
"yeah? how do i make it an A?" she asks. you grin.
"well, for an A i wanna see you cum on my cock, baby. for an A+, you'll make me cum too." you shrug.
sevika loves a challenge-- and it's not like either of you are too far from cumming. she readjusts, bringing her hands down on your tits to steady herself as she starts to bounce on your dick.
the new angle makes you both moan. the base of the strap's pressing on your cunt over and over, and from the way she's shivering you know it's hitting sevika's g-spot, too. you reach between your bodies to start rubbing her clit. she groans.
"professor!" she exclaims. you giggle a bit. "fuck, i'm gonna--"
"yeah? gonna cum all over my cock, baby? go ahead, honey, i know you want it. know you've been dreamin' about it for weeks. sittin' in class, watchin' me work. when you'd go home after-- were you wet?" you ask.
sevika whimpers and nods. you grin.
"good. cum on this dick 'n show me how wet you can get for me." you demand. sevika growls, bites your throat, and cums on top of you. you try your best to keep thrusting into her as she shakes, whispering encouragement to her as you do. "there you go, baby. there you go."
eventually sevika stops moving and whining, and you smack her ass a third time. she grunts against you.
"you okay?" you ask, dropping your proper professor voice. she nods against you.
"i gotta get my A+." she mumbles, smacking your shoulder with a limp hand. "take your strap off so i can eat you out."
you snort. "you gotta get off the strap before i can take it off, babe."
sevika groans. "nooo." she whines. you kiss her cheek.
"stay here, baby. 's long as you need." you say, wrapping your arms around her and scratching her head. she huffs.
"'m just gonna nap for, like, ten minutes." she promises. "n' then i'll get to you. wake me up, okay?" she asks. you snort and pepper her head with kisses.
"alright." you giggle.
sevika's just about to start snoring when she blinks back awake, looking up at you.
"i love you." she says, smiling. "this was fun and all, but. i'm glad your my wife 'n not my professor."
you grin. "i love you too, baby."
taglist!
@fyeahnix @sapphicsgirl @half-of-a-gay @thesevi0lentdelights @sexysapphicshopowner @shimtarofstupidity @love-sugarr @chuucanchuucan @222danielaa @badbye666 @femme-historian @lia-winther @gr0ssz0mbi3 @ellsss @sevikaspillowprincess @leomatsuzaki @emiliabby @sevikasbeloved @hellorai @vikasub @glass-apothecary
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keep thinking about Dustin being Gavroche coded so here’s the start of something 💔
Eddie is starting to suspect that Dustin’s trying to kill him. For one thing, he’s way too close to the edge of the trailer roof when they’re checking that the cables stretch far enough—“Uh, absolutely not, get back, dude,” Eddie says when he notices, to which Dustin says with a smartass grin, while kicking his feet over the edge, Jesus Christ, “Just soaking up the atmosphere.”
Eddie rolls his eyes, but it’s difficult not to be affected by Dustin’s enthusiasm: it steadies his nerves, allows him to play the guitar with a combined speed and technique he’s never achieved before.
The ‘concert’ is fun, almost too much fun; as they scrabble off the roof, Eddie finds himself choking back near hysterical bouts of laughter. He only gives into it when they’re both inside the trailer, Dustin jumping up and down in his arms—most metal ever!—and Eddie figures what the hell, they’ve earned this victory.
Then they hear the bats on the roof.
Eddie does his best to smother the fear—heart in his throat when the bats break through the vents, almost screams himself hoarse telling Dustin to, “Get out of the way!”
And they’re running as the bats splinter the wood of his bedroom door, and Dustin’s right, it’s not gonna hold; Eddie watches as Dustin climbs up the bedsheet, lands safely onto the mattress, and there’s a thought growing in Eddie’s head, but in his hesitation, he looks up and—
He doesn’t know what it is, really. There’s nothing to see, just Dustin staring at him expectantly. But there’s some kind of intuition that spurs Eddie on—inexplicably he thinks of when he was a kid, when Wayne seemed to always know that he was sick before he did.
He climbs.
“You gonna give me room?” he says, aiming for light-hearted, because even as he hovers at the lip of the Gate, Dustin still hasn’t moved.
Dustin blinks. “Yeah, yeah,” he says, and the words sound distant—but so does everything, Eddie reasons, thanks to that strange distortion when communicating between the two dimensions.
He lets go of the makeshift rope. He lands on the mattress, Dustin having shuffled over to give him just enough space. Exhales.
“Holy shit,” Dustin breathes. He’s laughing like he doesn’t know what to do with himself.
Eddie smiles. “Yeah, holy shit.”
The screech of the bats sounds more muffled than what he’d expected. He dares himself to hope; it worked, it worked—
“This feels so weird,” Dustin says.
“Y-yeah.” Eddie nods. “Just, uh. Adrenaline. It’ll pass.”
“Yeah, that… that makes sense,” Dustin says slowly, and maybe if relief wasn’t coursing through Eddie’s veins, he’d hear the alarm bells ringing, because Dustin always has an answer, always likes to be right, but instead he’s sitting up, surveying the Gate, and no bats are coming through, so maybe…
“Holy shit,” Eddie echoes. “Dustin, I think it worked, whatever the others are doing, like those goddamn bats are, like, dying or…”
“Eddie?”
Eddie turns.
Sees spots of blood on the mattress.
Follows the trail to the back of Dustin’s hand. There’s something there, so small. Puncture marks.
A bite.
Dustin’s eyes are glassy, pupils dilated. Eddie watches in horror as his chest heaves erratically.
“I—” Dustin chokes, his hair already drenched with sweat. “I feel really weird.”
And he collapses.
#i apologise in advance#eddie munson#dustin henderson#eddie and dustin#eddie and dustin fic#eddie and dustin ficlet#eddie munson fic#dustin henderson fic
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but daddy, I love him! - lockwood x reader
George tipped Lockwood out of his chair with surprising ease while Lucy started yelling at him. The two boys twisted around in their scuffle until George finally pinned Lockwood down and raised a fist above his head.
"Give me ONE good reason why I shouldn't punch your pretty face right now."
Lockwood's scratched and mildly bruised face split into one of his winning smiles, his whimpering temporarily ceased.
"You think my face is pretty?"
George reared back for the punch and Lockwood started shrieking incomprehensibly while Lucy started telling them both off.
a/n - vfvhkefrhu woooo this took a little more time than I anticipated heheh but here it is! <3
warnings/tropes - lockwood x socialite!reader, lil bit of angst, mostly fluff/humour!
word count - 3.8k!
MASTERLIST | TAGLIST
Right here, on this plush velvet couch, was where they were going to find her body. They were going to have to scrape her off bit by bit.
It was a dim Saturday morning, and Y/N was rotting in her courtyard living room with two of her friends. Sarah was preening in the full-length mirror, trying to decide if her nose was too small. Hannah was sipping a mimosa on the sofa opposite her, going on about this boy from two towns over who took her to the movies - not that she would ever be seeing him again, given that he was below her station. Y/N thought it was a shame; she couldn't remember Hannah ever showing this much of an interest in someone other than herself.
So there she sat, some unknown frustration distantly bubbling away as she was bored out of her skull. Maybe it was an ungrateful thing to say, but her fashionable lifestyle could feel glamorous for only so long. It was starting to grow stale - as stale as Sarah's obsession with her nose. She stifled a yawn, her eyes wandering to the higher floors, when something made her sit up. There it was again, a little flicker of light reflecting off of something. She mumbled something about a powder room and clumsily got to her feet, excusing herself from her inattentive guests.
It took her a while to figure out exactly where the flash was coming from, but she eventually located the corridor down where she could hear some noises. She heard a set of footsteps approaching her and turned, nearly running straight into a lanky clothes-hanger of a boy laden with all sorts of gizmos, wearing the most horribly ridiculous pair of goggles she had ever seen.
He let out a short scream and clung onto his goggles, and she reflexively caught the supplies that slipped from his arms.
"Who the hell are you?"
He owlishly blinked through his shiny, reflective goggles a few times, before reluctantly slipping them off. All thoughts about his strange attire flew from her head, replaced by one annoyingly nagging thought - he had kind eyes. Soft, trusting, kind eyes, the kind that momentarily knocked the breath out of you.
"I am so sorry..."
Don't be, she wanted to breathe out, transfixed on his eyes. He paused a little and awkwardly gestured to her arms. She glanced down and remembered where she was, hurriedly returning his supplies.
"That's some, um, interesting equipment you have."
He gave a brief smile. "Thank you. Anthony Lockwood, Lockwood & Co."
She frowned. "Lock-wood & Co. That sounds familiar."
"Well, we are a very up-and-coming psychical inv-"
"Oh! The agency that burned down Sheen Road!"
The boy's face took a faint tinge of red, and she immediately regretted putting her foot in her mouth.
"I mean - uh - you have some very interesting equipment."
He opened his mouth to respond when two more figures emerged from the shadows behind them, a girl guiding another flailing and mildly bruised boy, both of whom had donned matching goggles.
"Lockwood, I can't see shit without my glasses. How much longer do I have to make an arse out of myself?
The girl looked at Lockwood with an injured expression. "And you said these came free from Satchell's."
Lockwood huffed irritatedly at the other boy. "Snitch."
"Boo-fucking-hoo. I told you these wouldn't work." He sucked in a breath to continue but stopped short as he finally registered Y/N. "Hang on-"
"She's alive."
"Damn."
Lockwood gestured carelessly towards the other two. "My associates, Lucy Carlyle and George Karim."
"So you're here about the third-floor Visitor?"
"Yes. We received a report about some footprints..?"
"Oh, right. Those are just below my room. Here." She led the trio to the landing at the foot of the flight of stairs leading up to her room, which was stained with a quickly disappearing smattering of bloody footprints. The other boy knelt and considered the substance.
"Ectoplasm."
Lockwood turned back to her. "How often does the Visitor make an appearance?"
"No clue; I'm blind as a bat to anything supernatural. But the footprints only show up every couple of days, so it might be a while before they show up again."
His associates started examining the scene, and he bid her farewell with a grateful smile. By the time she had returned to the courtyard, she had been gone a bit too long to have her absence go unnoticed by her friends.
"And where did you run off to?"
"Told you, the powder room." She picked up a stray magazine, keeping her tone light. "I ran into some agents on the way back."
"Ooh. From Rotwell's?"
"Lockwood & Co."
Sarah peeled herself away from the mirror, mystified. "Who?"
Her giddy glow faltered. "An agency. Mr. Lockwood was there too. I was just...having a small chat with them."
"What for? They're working class."
"Don't be rude, Sarah." Hannah turned back to Y/N, a pinched expression still lingering on her face. "But...she's not wrong."
Y/N bristled defensively. "I'll have you know they're perfectly respectable company." Better than you lot, she wanted to add.
"Why? They're...poor."
"Y/N, we only want what's best for you," Hannah added in a nauseatingly simpering voice. "And that's...not...with people like them."
She tossed her magazine aside flippantly.
"You know, I wonder how the two of you bear it."
"Bear what?"
"Walking around with your noses stuck in the air all the time."
With that, she exited the living room, fuming. Yes, she was being childish, and yes, it wasn't news that her friends were prone to arrogance, but for some reason, their attitudes were particularly grating today. They hadn't met Lockwood like she had, of course they wouldn't understand. She replayed the feeling of watching him remove his goggles for the first time - unexpectedly climactic, and somehow...familiar.
She was sure of it. They would never understand.
For the next few nights, there would be a Lockwood & Co. employee stationed at the landing, complete with iron chains, flares, and salt. They'd bring along something to occupy themselves, like a book or a 3D puzzle, but it still felt nice to have a short chat with them before she went up to her room.
With Lockwood, the chats always lasted a little longer, and maybe she stayed up a little later than she ought to on those nights, but really, it wasn't anything special. Little by little, they pieced each other together. She's restoring her father's old radio. He likes his orange juice with pulp. She has an older brother she hasn't talked to in months. He visits his family's graves on the first Tuesday of every month.
The more time she spent with Lockwood, the more she realised how uninteresting she found everyone else. Somewhere between their stilted whispers and muffled laughter, she started to desire something...more.
"Hey."
Lockwood looked up from his magazine from where he was sitting cross-legged, encircled by his iron chains. He glanced at his watch, startled.
"You're back early."
She wrinkled her nose. "Wasn't enjoying the fundraiser."
"What about your friends?"
"They wanted to stay."
"So they let you leave? All by yourself?"
She bit her tongue. "Nothing wrong in that."
"No, of course not." As he was on the first day they met, Lockwood was quick to be an agreeable companion. But this trait added weight to the few times he chose to disagree. "But...nothing right either."
"It's alright. I'd hate to spoil their night." She sank onto the carpeted steps. "How's the investigation going?"
Lockwood glanced at the temperature sensor placed slightly outside the iron circle. "Temperature's dropping more than usual. Could just be because it's chillier today, but you never know." He looked up, and the moonlight illuminated his starkly pale face. "Do you not have any Talent?"
She hesitated. "A little. Not much, mind, certainly not enough to be an agent. But it was never something I needed to consider. I know people have it bad out there, but I'm just..."
"...too rich."
She gave a wry smile. "What gave it away? Besides the skyscraper ceilings, of course." They laughed briefly, before quickly sinking into a jagged silence.
"What's your home like?"
"It's...it's hard to describe. I don't think I could do it justice. You should come see Portland Row sometime. Have dinner with m-us. Us. Once we're done with the job. If you'd like."
"You should come see Portland Row sometime. Have dinner with m-us. Us. Once we're done with the job. If you'd like."
Lockwood was staring very hard at his sneakers. She found the whole thing highly amusing.
"Lockwood, I'd leave with you right now if I could. Really. It's just...my father..."
Her father would sooner have an aneurysm than let her 'play hooky,' as he would put it, especially with this less-than-glamorous ragtag team of misfits. While it had occasionally been a source of mild annoyance before, she never resented him as much as she did right then. And all that was without considering all the eyebrows that a guy like Lockwood would raise.
The faint moonlight was enough to make out the glimmer of his teeth, the curve of his face, the shadows settling around his deep-set eyes. She ached to know the look on his face, to know how he was feeling. The sprigs of lavender she had weaved into the hem of her dress were heavily perfuming the air, heady enough to make the evocative pull of his gaze strangely irresistible.
She peered at him through the railings, whose shadows marred his face, painfully reminiscent of a prison cell. She slid her hand along the bannister, gripping it firmly. It was moments like these when the rest of the house was quiet, too quiet, that she felt something flutter in her chest. Some compulsion flickering through her tendons to reach out through the railings, brush her fingers across his cheekbone, to have and to hold-
"It's getting late." Lockwood put his coat back on and started gathering some of his equipment. "I think I'll call it a night."
She hurriedly got to her feet too, suddenly embarrassed for some reason. "Yeah. No, me too. I should...I should get some rest."
Still, she lingered at the foot of the stairs long enough for Lockwood to pack away the chains. As he straightened, he turned to her as if he could feel that she was brimming with...something. She wanted to tell him how much she had enjoyed this night, and every night before. She wanted to tell him how happy he made her.
But she couldn't find the words.
"Good night," she said softly.
That was the last of their secret late-night rendezvous, as the Shade finally reappeared the following night and was safely put to rest by Lucy, along with any hopes of a budding romance.
Five days after what Y/N had thought was the last time she'd lay eyes on Anthony Lockwood (not that she was keeping count), she was quite happily proven wrong. Lockwood and George had paid a visit to collect their payment from her father.
She was not-so-casually lounging at the opposite end of the living room with her friends. The magazine she was holding upside down wouldn't have fooled anyone if they were paying attention, especially coupled with her relentlessly staring at Lockwood. She had been a little on edge when he had first walked in, hating how their last conversation had ended. But all it took was one of his easy, soothing smiles as he discreetly glanced at her to calm her down. She buried her nose deeper into the magazine as if she hadn't seen it, failing to hold her smile back.
When she had sufficiently composed herself, she peeked over the edge of the magazine to see the boys having some sort of disagreement as her father was writing out a cheque. Lockwood seemed to want to do something and George seemed to be holding him back until the cheque had been written.
As soon as her father had handed the cheque to them, George accepted it with a hurried thanks and a funny bow before practically running out. Lockwood took a deep breath before launching into some kind of monologue while occasionally glancing at her. Openly. Her father's face remained impassive.
She put away her magazine, mystified as she tried to make out what he was saying, trying to keep the dread creeping into her at bay. Even her friends had picked up on something being amiss as they followed her line of sight.
Her stomach sank as she caught a glimpse of the hard look on her father's face. By now, it couldn't have been more obvious that Lockwood was asking him...about her. She wanted to shake him, yell at him to run away, but some kind of morbid fascination, or perhaps a deep-seated fear, had locked her limbs, forcing her to helplessly watch as the events cruelly unfolded. She knew her father, and she knew Lockwood would never be able to change his mind. At least, she was quite certain.
She snapped out of her haze and leapt to her feet, but it was too late. By the time she had reached the pair, her father was already bidding him a stern farewell.
"...and if you ever talk to my daughter again, I will personally make sure that you never find work another day in London."
Lockwood turned sharply and briskly walked out, his facial features carefully schooled, seemingly oblivious to her hurrying over, or her gasp of despair. He took long strides that made it difficult for her to keep up with him, and he didn't stop until he joined George outside, closing the wrought iron gate between her and him. She clutched one of the bars and he almost immediately wrapped his hand around her.
"Lockwood - "
"You should go back inside before your father sees us."
"Please, listen - I'm really sorry."
"It's alright. I understand."
"My father's never been the understanding type, far from it - "
"I know - I knew that."
"This is all my fault. I should have warned you."
"No, don't...you didn't know I was going to do this."
"We could have kept it a secret."
"And have you sneak around? Lie to your father? Y/N, I'm not above taking the easy route when the situation calls for it, but not in this case. I wanted to do right by you."
Her chest heaved as she struggled to catch her breath. Lockwood looked as outwardly poised and calm as ever, but with the two of them this close, she could see the frustration simmering in his eyes.
"I'm so sorry - so mad - that he threatened you like that."
"To hell with my agency." He sighed and pressed his forehead against the gate, lowering his eyes to where their hands were clasped together in some pathetic pseudo-embrace. "I know how much his approval means to you. I just wish I could have gotten that."
They were silent for a moment. There was only a gentle breeze but no rustling leaves, and even George seemed sorry for his best friend. It was quiet enough to feel like they could hear each other's heartbeat but from opposite sides of the gate.
"I'm still sorry."
Lockwood bowed his head. "So am I."
He brushed his lips against her knuckles before pulling his fingers out of her palm and walking out of her life. She watched the two of them walk away, unable to leave the gate and come to terms with what had happened. For a moment there, before her father's expression had shifted, she had felt a glimmer of hope for her happy ending.
But reality had struck, and now all she could do was go up to her room, walk through the empty landing, and sob into her pillow as her heart screamed for the life she ached for so desperately.
She allowed herself the day to grieve, but by nightfall, she had already started plotting her next steps. The next day, she decided to broach the topic at the breakfast table, where her friends were already seated, whispering furiously until she walked in. She sat opposite her father as usual, who was reading the day's newspaper.
"Dad. I want to talk about yesterday. With - with Lockwood."
He gave no indication of having heard her. She could feel her friends' hawk-eye stares boring into her skin. Against her better judgment, she pressed on.
"I think...you should give him a second chance."
She could practically hear her friends salivating in excitement, flinching as her father set the paper down. He had a bit of a temper, no more than her, but it was never unwarranted.
"And why is that?"
"He may not have much, but he's capable, hard-working, resilient-"
"I know exactly the type of person he is, and before yesterday I thought you did too. Or have you forgotten Sheen Road?"
She nervously fidgeted with the buttons on her dress, suddenly feeling trapped and suffocated. This was going to be an uphill battle, she could see that, now that her blaze of self-righteousness was beginning to fade. "That was a one-off," she mumbled.
"Not quite. I rang up DEPRAC afterwards, and they said in no uncertain terms that his agency was one good accident away from being shut down. He's known to behave recklessly and rarely per the law - "
"Have you stopped to think why he might act this way? You've spoken to him yourself - doesn't seem the irrational type, does he?"
He sighed irritatedly.
"Is this really the type of person you want to throw your whole life away for? To tarnish your reputation?"
"It's my life and it's my name. If I wish to burn my life to the ground or throw my name in the mud, that's my choice. You don't get a say in that."
"To do all this over a washed-up, good-for-nothing-"
"But Daddy, I love him!"
"I don't - "
"And I'm having his child."
Sarah shrieked and dropped her compact. Even Hannah was rendered speechless, nervously pulling at her braid. Her father's eyes looked as though they were about to fall out of his head. An uncomfortable, prickling silence followed.
"Okay, I'm not, but you should see your faces."
Sarah gave a dramatic sigh of relief as Hannah released her braid. "Oh my, what a mess-"
"Don't you start." She turned back to her father, fresh out of all the hope and ammunition she had walked into the room with. "Please, Daddy. Never...never once have I complained about any of your rules. Can't I-" her voice broke off as she struggled to hold back a sob. "Can't I please just have this one thing?"
Her father looked unmoved.
"You listen to me, Y/N - stay away from him."
She glanced around the room desperately, trying to figure one last way out. One last way out. That was all she needed.
She found it.
"Fine. Maybe you're right. Maybe he is crazy. Maybe...maybe he is bad news."
She stood up, wrenching her anxious fingers away from her buttons, poised to run out of the room.
"But I love him anyway."
Lucy and Lockwood were at Portland Row going over the floor plans of the house of their next case. Lucy was trying her best to keep Lockwood on task, but she had never seen him this disinterested in their work.
She was struggling to hold his attention while he was fidgeting with a pen not very skillfully when they heard an insistent tapping on their kitchen window. They looked up to see Y/N waving at them frantically, gesturing towards the front door. Lockwood leapt up from their kitchen table, nearly stabbing himself with the pen, and joined her outside. There was something very nervous about Y/N's body language, especially since she started talking a mile a minute as soon as Lockwood stepped out.
"God, your eyebags look horrendous in the light. Do you ever-?"
The door shut behind the two of them. Lucy waited at the table for a minute or so, but once it became apparent they weren't about to finish anytime soon, she fetched a book and started to read. About ten minutes later, the front door opened again, but this time it was George returning from the Archives.
"Oh, George, can you tell Lockwood to come back inside?"
"What?"
"Lockwood."
"Where?"
"Outside."
"...outside where?"
"Outside, George. Don't be daft."
George stared at her cluelessly.
"He is still outside...?"
The realisation hit them both at once as they tripped over each other on their way to the front door. They looked out into the half-empty street, and the empty parking space in front of their house.
"George," Lucy asked, feeling majorly peeved by now. "Where is the car we rented for the weekend?"
Over the next month, neither Lucy nor George heard a word from Lockwood. After a particularly intense discussion that day, they decided not to alarm anyone by filing a missing person's report. But he had been absent from public view for a suspiciously long time, and Barnes was starting to find the story they concocted about Lockwood's debilitating illness less and less convincing.
Lucy and George had just arrived home after their latest case, which they were lucky enough to finish early. Lucy flicked on the kitchen light and there, sitting at the kitchen table, as he was nearly a month back, was Lockwood. He looked a little taller and a little less gaunt than they remembered. The three of them stared at each other for a moment, speechless, until the two of them launched themselves at him.
George tipped Lockwood out of his chair with surprising ease while Lucy started yelling at him. The two boys twisted around in their scuffle until George finally pinned Lockwood down and raised a fist above his head.
"Give me ONE good reason why I shouldn't punch your pretty face right now."
Lockwood's scratched and mildly bruised face split into one of his winning smiles, his whimpering temporarily ceased.
"You think my face is pretty?"
George reared back for the punch and Lockwood started shrieking incomprehensibly while Lucy started telling them both off.
"Wait - WAIT - you'll crumple the invites!"
"What invites?"
"To a - uh - how do I put this..."
"Spit it OUT - "
"Wedding!"
"Whose?"
Lockwood brought his arms down from where he was shielding his face, smiling bashfully. The three of them exchanged looks ranging from congratulatory to homicidal.
"What about -"
"He came around. We had lunch with him earlier."
"Wow. That's...congratulations. I just can't believe..."
"I know, we can't either."
"...that you didn't come straight home?"
"Geo- look, George, I wanted to, believe me, I - not the face, NOT THE -"
TAGLIST: @neewtmas @ahead-fullofdreams @mitskiswift99 @ell0ra-br3kk3r @elenianag080 @mohinithoughts @avdiobliss @snoopyluver20 @mischivana @dangelnleif
#lockwood and co#lockwood & co#lockwood and co netflix#anthony lockwood#anthony lockwood x reader#fanfic#fanfiction#anthony lockwood imagine#but daddy i love him#taylor swift#the tortured poets department#songfic
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Felix catton x reader Instagram au [part2] [part1]
yourusername proofreading my essay (he’s about to descend into madness)
fe1ix_catt0n There were some rough patches I’d say…
yourusername uh huh
yourfriend Exploiting English major friend perks 🙄
yourusername he offered alr
annabel_ he doesn’t even proofread his own essays lol
-
Felix sat in the library with legs crossed across y/n, these days he just happened to be in the library when y/n was. Just happened to be there to finish his reading assignment whilst she studied. He saw the frown on her face as she seemed to be stuck on something against the white light of her computer. They couldn’t group study as in help each other with assignments given their majors were entirely different but they had study sessions, finish their respective work together. “What’s wrong?” He asked, by now he was used to her patterns of difficulties, it was generally ‘thermodynamics’ and even though he didn’t understand it listening to her rant about it was somewhat cherished by him.
“This fuckass essay” she said with a sigh and deadpanned herself.
“Oh you’ve to write essays now?” Felix asked leaning forward in his seat given this was something he could help with.
“Not really, it’s just for the robotics seminar remember? There are supposed extra points if we submit an essay on how excited and emotional we are about partaking in it…” she trailed off as she stared at her screen “As if the model isn’t enough.”
“But you have been excited about this for months?” Felix mentioned tilting his head, “what’s the problem?”
“This essay, this is my third final rough draft and it’s so exhausting” she replied and slouched back on her seat crossing her arms.
“Let me help” Felix offered as she turned the computer to his side as he sat across her. Just going through the first paragraph his eyebrows knitted together trying to make coherent sense of it. Stem majors write the worst essay stereotype was now more than a stereotype to felix. “So” he paused going through it “You’ve just left gaps here with ‘something’ in the middle-what? What’s that for?”
“Oh yeah I’m supposed to put a fancy word there so it looks pretty.” She mentioned with a shrug.
“Just a fancy word? As in randomly?” He asked puzzled as he scrolled through her essay thoroughly and found she’d actually done that. Halfway through a sentence she’d added big words with some context.
“Not randomly no, just, put one in those places.”
“Oh-alright see the second body of the essay is well done, you’re talking about the system of your model and the workings of it, it sounds smart but isn’t the essay supposed to be about how you feel? I mean the assigned title is literally on it.” He explained “It doesn’t align with the main objective.”
“So what? I’ve written about my model which I’m entering IN the seminar.” She reasoned leaning back up on her seat as he shook his head and motioned his with his chin for her to come around the table and next to him.
“Yes but it barely covers the feelings aspect, which is what you have to write the essay on. It literally says that here” He said pointing to the middle portion of the screen where her essay was displayed as she stood beside him.
“I don’t read the small print” She said. Felix paused to look at her a are-you-serious look on his face and waited for her to catch on his disappointment “What?” She asked.
“Okay let’s see, you’ve just kept ‘something’ in quotes at places, which is fine for your first draft-”
“Draft?” She interrupted him with an obvious scoff “Oh no this is the final one. I don’t do drafts.”
“What? What do you mean you don’t do drafts?” He asked somewhat confused.
“I write then I proofread and cut, honestly I don’t know why you’re wasting so much time it’s just for extra” she shrugged so casually, felix felt like stem majors had an entirely different set of brain cells when it came to anything literary.
“This is going to take it a while.”
fel1x_catt0n Congratulations to Y/n and team! Great work guys ❤️
yourusername aweee thanks felix 🕺
fel1x_catt0n much deserved, angel
katie_ congrats
annabel_ did felix attend the nerd convention today? 😂
fel1x_catt0n it was very interesting despite your generalisation
farleigh_start Congrats girl!!
-
The whole science seminar was initially optional, even with such there was a lot of competition and a crowd. The crowd was mainly the college professors and seminar conductors and some juniors who had to volunteer for extra credits. However the crowd seemed huge from the stage minimising everyone into a small dot given the auditorium space was gigantic. After the prize distribution y/n and her team had gotten first place for their model. A big deal amongst a handful of people because not a lot of stem majors themselves cared about extra irrelevant to their portfolio projects. But well there were some. Y/n was very giddy, laughing amongst her team of three people as they walked down from the stage and through the auditorium amongst the crowd. They were then approached by the only student dressed in a full on tuxedo, not even a stem one. Felix.
“Felix?” Y/n blinked as she stopped in her tracks as she saw him approaching her direction with a giant bouquet of flowers and hugged her. She was confused and amused at the same time, she recalled telling him that the project was a big deal to her but she didn’t think he’d show up actually. “Woah you showed up?!” She asked giggling as he wrapped his arms around her even tighter and kissed the top of her head.
“Of course I did silly” he scoffed as he pulled away and handed her the flowers, “congrats smarty pants, all of you.” He spoke to her group as well with a victorious smile as he kept his arm around her shoulder.
“Thanks!” They said one after another, assuming Felix and y/n were perhaps a thinking. However the way Felix was dressed was rather funnier to them. They made their smell talk and went on about their way still snickering amongst themselves.
“Strange what was so funny…” he trailed off looking back at y/n as the rest of her team left.
“Your tuxedo” she replied with a small chuckle.
“What’s wrong with it?”
“The only set of people who’re wearing a tuxedo at this function are our professors, it’s just blazers I guess you’ve done out-dressed everyone” she jokes as she fixed the bow tie of his shirt and he playfully rolled his eyes at her.
“The invite seemed fancy, fancy attire for fancy invites isn’t that how it’s supposed to be?” He reasoned for himself.
“What invite?” Y/n questioned.
“The one on the function website” Felix replied.
Initially y/n had just forwarded the message she got from her group about the timings and venue as a vague invitation because zero art majors are interested in these events “what? We have a website?”
“Yeah. I looked it up” he answered with a shrug, he wanted to look just perfectly suitable for her event because it seemed to be a big deal for her, so he did his research despite failing miserably at fitting y/n found it to be a very heartwarming gesture.
“Wow? Such dedication…”
“Of course my love” he said with an obvious huff, hoping his hints would pass through her.
yourusername the one and only. tuxedo at da science centre.
yourfriend he was out there outshining professor john’s Maxwell theorem themed necktie🤗
yourusername LITERALLY?
teammate1 bow tie AND cufflinks…
fel1x_catt0n I see I’ve gained a reputation
teammate2 jokes apart you two are such a cute couple 💖
annabel_ LOL they’re not dating!!!!
yourusername yeah haha ^^
-
“are you serious?!” Y/n friend exclaimed as they spun around the flowers felix have in their hands. “He gave these? They’re bigger than our torsos man”
“Yeah…yeah…” y/n trailed off with a shrug trying to downplay it somewhat.
“AND he came in a tuxedo, AND he posted you…do you have zero situational awareness or what?” Her friend scoffed as they gently whacked the flowers on y/n’s forehead.
“Look, felix is a friend’s friend. He’s the most friendliest of them all. Stop trying to induce romanticism in me, he’s a great friend. Very outgoing, giving, sweet…that’s how he is.” She explained.
“You are most definitely blind are you not seeing these!” They pointed to the ever so gigantic bouquet of flowers, “helping you with your essay, bringing you snacks, wanting to hang out with you all the time-”
“That’s what we do too.” Y/n reasoned.
“Girl.” They took a deep breath. “I hate you and I never want to hang out with you.”
Y/n snickered falling back to her bed, “Yeah sure. I hate you too.”
“That’s not the point-we’re us and Felix is a completely new person in your life who’s doing all this for YOU.”
“Yada yada” Y/n said rolling her eyes at her friend as they once again whacked her with the flowers.
“You pull shit like this and that Annabelle will steal him from you. Dig your own grave.”
Y/n burst into a hearty laugh at that, “Steal felix? What are you on about we’re not a thing to begin with and Annabelle is his friend just like me.”
“YOURE NOT EVEN LISTENING TO ME” Her friend said with a sigh as they crossed their arms.
“BECAUSE YOURE NOT MAKING SENSE.” y/n said back with a high pitched tone, this was their normal between the best friends when one couldn’t get a point across, not just normal, civil even.
“OF COURSE IM NOT BECAUSE YOU ARE FUCKING BRAIN DEAD.” They said as they forcefully throw the flowers in her direction.
“YOU WANNA HAVE A GO AT ME OKAY.” she seethed and threw back a pillow, “Fucking come here” she said as the set of, almost grown ups, fought with one another in the most figurative sense with a pair of pillows aiming for most harm.
“Not my hair-not my hair you gangly uncoordinated bitc-” the wrestling match was interrupted by a knock on the door.
Followed by the familiar voice “everything alright in there?”
Felix.
“PAUSE.”
“-Pause.”
“What the fuck’s he doing here?” Y/n whisper yelled as her friend pushed her to go open the door, straightening her hair out hurriedly as she walked up there.
“GO.”
“Felix…Hi” y/n said as she caught her breath and smiled at him, despite of the disheveled state of her room.
“Hey…I was just passing by and I thought you were fighting-?” Felix asked with a soft smile as he leant on the doorframe of her dorm. It was as if he never needed an invitation.
“No we were just, er what is it we-we were” y/n looked back at her friend to jump in with an answer.
“Roomie wars.” Her friend shrugged off. “Ya know…where’s my candle, where’s my ramen from yesterday”
“Oh…” Felix trailed off with an understanding nods. “Yeah I get it.”
“Funny you were just passing by, through dorm hallways, when yours is—three buildings down isn’t it?” Her friend intervened with an accusatory chuckle receiving a disapproving look from y/n.
“Yes I was actually here for y/n.” Felix said, he would never be put in a situation where he’d get awkward, blatantly open and confident he didn’t truly care for implications if they were correct. “Do you have any lectures this evening.”
“No.” Her friend answered quickly before she could.
“Yeah no I don’t.” Y/n replied with a tight smile at her friend.
“Great then I’ll pick you up at 5 yeah?” Felix said.
“Wait-for what?”
“Anything.”
yourusername this man is drowning in pussy
fel1x_catt0n this is so foul
yourusername the cats wuv you
fel1x_catt0n yet your caption is that of a comedic genius
yourfriend I have no words
farleigh_start just not yours…
-
HIII I am sorry I don’t update regularly I promise I will now, I am going through a very difficult and traumatic time in my life it’s so so so hard to cope at the moment.
Any comments on this or opinions would help me a lot more than you think either ways if you’re here and read this thank you so much <3
#felix catton x reader#felix catton x you#felix catton x y/n#felix catton x reader fanfic#felix catton x fem! reader#felix catton#felix catton x reader fluff#instagram au#jacob elordi x reader instagram au#jacob elordi x y/n#jacob elordi x reader#jacob elordi x you
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OC Interview: Zayn MacKenna
Interviewer: "Zayn! Zayn, can we have a moment?"
Zayn: "If you're looking for Dino, he's not here right now."
Interviewer: "No no, we want to talk to you!"
Zayn: "Oh you're here for me? I thought- Uhh... Hmn. Why? What's this for?"
Interviewer: "The people wanna know more about you"
Zayn: "Uhm.... Why?"
Interviewer: "Dino plays his cards pretty close to his chest, but doesn't seem to be too worried about waving you around. People are curious."
Zayn: "Hmn. What do you wanna know?"
Interviewer: "Just fun stuff."
( tagged by @dreamskug full interview under the cut cuz she's a long one~)
→NICKNAMES
Interviewer: "Do you have any nick names?"
Zayn: "Mm, not really. Though Dino calls me pup. But he's allowed to. It's weird coming from other people."
→ GENDER
Interviewer: "So how do you identify? What's your gender?"
Zayn: "Male."
→ STAR SIGN
Interviewer: "What's your star sign?"
Zayn: "Aquarius? I don't really follow that stuff much, so I'm not really sure what that means. Is this being recorded?"
Interviewer: "It might be."
→ HEIGHT
Interviewer: "Dino really towers over you how tall are you?"
Zayn: "I'm not that short... Somewhere round 5'7"? It's been a while since I properly measured myself. D is just tall..."
→ ORIENTATION
Interviewer: "Anyone keeping up with screamsheets in the height of Dino's career with the Gloryhole Bandits knows he's not particularly picky with his partners, but what about you? Where do you lay in this mix?"
Zayn: "I'm Dino-sexual."
Interviewer: "Uh.."
Zayn: "Oh my God, that's a joke. I'm a demisexual gay man."
Interviewer: "Demisexual?"
Zayn: "What year is it? Have you really never heard that term before? Demisexual is on the asexual spectrum. Go look it up, I'm tired of explaining it."
→ NATIONALITY/ETHNICITY
Interviewer: "So where do you- or your family rather, originate?"
Zayn: "Is it weird that I don’t really know? I don’t actually know who my biological parents are, so I’m not really sure where my bloodline comes from."
Interviewer: "Adopted?"
Zayn: "Something like that..."
Interviewer: "Don't they usually have records of stuff like that?"
Zayn: "Ah... it's a lil more complicated than that. Can we move on?"
→ FAVE FRUIT
Interviewer: "Alright lets see, what's your favourite fruit?"
Zayn: "Uh... Strawberries? They're not easy to find but they're so yummy."
→ FAVE SEASON
Interviewer: "Do you have a favourite season?"
Zayn: "I don't know if I have an answer to that considering there isn't a huge dramatic weather shift around these parts. Everything is mostly just... Hot. Most of the places I've travelled to have still been, hot."
→ FAVE FLOWER
Interviewer: "Do you have a favourite flower?"
Zayn: "I don’t know the names of them, but I saw in a book once these lil flowers that looked like little guys with their dicks out. They made me laugh a lot, bet it’s probably extinct at this point."
Interviewer: "I'm sorry, what?"
Zayn: "Yeah yeah! Look up 'naked man flower' or something you might be able to find a picture."
Interviewer: "Okay hold on I have to look... Oh my God."
Zayn: "SEE. What's it called? What's it called?"
Interviewer: "Orchis italica"
Zayn: "Ahaha. Perfect."
→ FAVE SCENT
Interviewer: "What's your favourite sent?"
Zayn: "Leather."
Interviewer: "Oh."
Zayn: "What?"
→ COFFEE, TEA, HOT CHOCOLATE
Interviewer: "Never mind, do you prefer coffee, tea or hot chocolate?"
Zayn: "I've never actually had hot chocolate before."
Interviewer: "What?!"
Zayn: "I'm allergic to chocolate.."
Interviewer: "Oh that's unfortunate."
Zayn: "Yeah, I just stick with coffee and flavourings usually."
→ AVERAGE HOURS OF SLEEP
Interviewer: "Dino's got insomnia, what's your average hours of sleep in comparison?"
Zayn: "That's kinda weird that you would know that, and wanna know that about me... But... Uh... A lot. I can sleep just about anywhere, I got used to making the best out of really uncomfortable sleeping arrangements when I was little."
→ DOG OR CAT PERSON?
Interviewer: "Okay, are you a dog or cat person?"
Zayn: "Uhm. What do you mean by that..?"
Interviewer: "... Do you like dogs or cats better...?"
Zayn: "OH, duh. I like both."
→ DREAM TRIP
Interviewer: "Do you have a place you'd like to visit one day? A dream trip if you will?"
Zayn: "Uhh... I mean there's lots of places I'd like to visit one day. Maybe make a hop over to Europe?"
→ FAVE FICTIONAL CHARACTER
Interviewer: "Any favourite fictional characters?"
Zayn: "I don't really follow a lot of media..."
→ NUMBER OF BLANKETS YOU SLEEP WITH
Interviewer: "So how many blankets do you sleep with?"
Zayn: "What? Why are we back on the sleep topic, that's weird..."
Interviewer: "Is it?"
Zayn: "Yeah a lot of this is pretty personal shit man..."
→ RANDOM FACT
Interviewer: "Okay we'll skip that then, how bout a random fact?"
Zayn: "Ah."
Dino: "Hey. The fuck is goin on over here?"
Interviewer: "Oh, Mr Dinovic. We were just-"
Dino: "No no. This little sich here? Not nova. This is over right now. I've told ya before to keep this shit out of my fuckin club."
Zayn: "Oop. Random fact, you've pissed off Dino."
Dino: "Nosy lil shits. Delete this-"
Interviewer: "HEY!"
---
Dino protecting his boy from sketchy papz trying to pry into their personal life.
sdFGHDFJKSG I think most people have been tagged already, but if you wanna do it you can totally do it. I might still do it with my other boys yet.
#cyberpunk 2077#oc factos#oc: zayn mackenna#dino dinovic#otp: low octave#tag game#long post#under a readmore cuz she's a LONG one#I went a lil overboard on this one but I had fun with it dkjhgdfkjghdgf#turned it into a full weird tabloid thing
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Like or Like Like
Part 4 of the "Anyone Else But You" series
Pairing: Huening Kai x Reader
Summary: Things grow complicated as you and Kai continue to blur the lines between friends and something more.
Tropes: enemies to friends to lovers, slow burn, mutual pining, fluff, angst, stylist!reader
Word Count: 3.4k
Warnings: swearing, mentions of sex (mdni!!!!) reader is insecure, miscommunication, alcohol
A/N: THIS MIGHT BE MY FAVORITE PART OF THE SERIES AHHHHHHHH!!!! also still plugging the Spotify playlist for this fic hehe <3
“Head won't stop spinning 'round
Make your decision now
Head won't stop spinning
Love me or let me out”
—Everything Is Just a Mess, The Brook & The Bluff
Usually, you and Yeonjun keep your hangouts to just the two of you, but Huening Kai loves having you around no matter who else is going to be there.
Tonight is game night, something that would usually just include the boys. You’re nervous that they’ll start talking about League of Legends or some other topic that you know nothing about. Luckily, they’re currently hyper fixated on Mario Kart and you can fake your way through the rounds.
As you race across the tracks as Toadette, you find your legs resting over Kai’s lap, his free hand dangerously close to your thigh. At first, the thought of him touching you sends you into a panic, but you remind yourself that he’s touchy with all of his friends. Just twenty minutes ago, he was sitting in Soobin’s lap while holding Taehyun’s hand.
You catch yourself staring up at him instead of the TV screen every once in a while, his hair now tinted a soft shade of blue. To you, his face is practically perfect, and you start to wonder what it would be like to be so casually beautiful.
“Y/N,” Beomgyu says as he passes you on Rainbow Road. His mouth is full of cinnamon turtle chips. “You’re so quiet.”
You hit him with a red shell right before the finish line, somehow claiming first place. He’s right though—you’ve barely said a word since you got here six rounds ago. You do a little happy dance to celebrate your win.
“She talks a lot with me,” Yeonjun shrugs, getting up to grab another beer. “Maybe you’re just annoying.”
Beomgyu pouts and turns towards you, his face dangerously close to yours. “Am I annoying you?”
“No,” you giggle, pushing him away. “I was just too focused on beating all of you.”
“Don’t get too close to Huening’s girl,” Taehyun warns Beomgyu. “I don’t want to have to break up any fights.”
“Actually, I think she’d look better with me,” Soobin interjects, wrapping his arm around your shoulder. You lean your head into him, smiling. “Right, Kai?”
When you look over at Kai, you’re greeted with an awkward grin. “Very cute,” he nods, giving a thumbs up in approval. You do your best to hide your disappointment.
“We’re out of beer,” Yeonjun says, returning from the kitchen. “Does anybody wanna go to the bar with me?”
“We can just have more delivered,” Taehyun suggests as he ties Beomgyu’s bangs into a pigtail.
“I’m craving a little more than just beer,” Yeonjun replies. You roll your eyes. Leave it to him to announce he’s horny to the entire group.
“I think I’ll stay home,” Kai says, slumping back onto the couch. He locks eyes with you and pats the space next to him with a smile.
“Actually, I think I’ll go with Jun,” you tell him, reaching for your purse. “I could use some fresh air.”
“Oh, uh, I’ll go too, then,” he says almost immediately, sitting up straight and running a hand through his messy hair. “I was just saying that because I thought you wanted to stay in.”
“Sure,” Soobin snickers. “Very smooth, Huening.”
“Let’s all go,” Beomgyu claps his hands together before holding one out to help you up.
Even though the bar is just a short walk away from the apartment, you swear you’ve never seen it before. When you see the people hanging out inside, you start to understand why. Everybody is hot.
“I’m underdressed,” you sigh, eyeing how dolled up every other girl is. In contrast, you’ve got one of Yeonjun’s jackets thrown over your sweater and jeans.
“You look good,” Kai whispers into your ear, his hand finding the small of your back and urging you forward. Even through all the layers of clothing, his touch makes the hair on the back of your neck stand up.
It isn’t until he spots a familiar face that his hand leaves you, quickly shoving itself back into his hoodie pocket.
“Shit,” he says under his breath, looking around the room to avoid someone’s gaze. You squint to find who’s got him all worked up until you see her. It’s the girl you caught sneaking out of his bedroom that one morning.
“What’s wrong, Hueningie?” Taehyun asks, assessing the situation. “Wait, is that—”
“Yep,” he swallows, locking eyes with her. She gives a faint smile and a wave, inviting him over. “I’ll be right back.”
Before you can stare at the two of them for long, the rest of the group is dragging you over to the bar. You sit yourself on a stool in between Beomgyu and Soobin, gesturing for the bartender. “I’ll have a Mai Tai.”
“Ooh, that sounds yummy! Make it two,” Beomgyu adds. His hair is still tied up from earlier. “You know, Y/N, I figured you wouldn’t want to drink since you got really sick last time.”
“Yeah, I thought so too,” you say, taking a sip of the bright cocktail. The rum goes down smooth.
“Leave her alone, Gyu,” Yeonjun interrupts, sliding himself in between the two of you. Beomgyu takes the hint and moves over to the next stool, practically draping himself over Taehyun.
“Shouldn’t you be off scouting your next hookup?” you scoff, attempting to dig the maraschino cherry out of the glass with your straw. Yeonjun reaches in and grabs it for himself. “Jun, what the fuck?”
“Don’t like it when someone else takes what’s yours, huh?” He pops the cherry into his mouth with a grin, its red hue matching the tone of his lips.
“I don’t know what you’re referring to.”
“Y/N. I’m not blind. You’re pissed that Huening is with that girl, but I’m telling you, you have nothing to worry about.”
“He said she’s not his type,” you grumble, taking a long sip.
“She isn’t,” Soobin confirms, slowly pulling the glass away from you.
“That’s not what it looks like.” You turn to frown at him, suddenly feeling cornered.
“Cut Huening some slack. You know he’s a chronic people pleaser,” he continues.
“Yeah, I’m sure he’d love to please her again.”
“What the hell’s gotten into you?” Yeonjun asks.
“I don’t know, okay?! I just know that you guys made that stupid bet that he would never be able to pull a girl ‘like her,’ and it’s been eating away at me ever since.”
“Wait, that’s what this is about? Not about Huening?”
“I don’t think so? Maybe a little bit, but it’s mostly just about how she’s apparently the gold standard for girls and I’m just… me.”
“Y/N,” Soobin says, his hand on your arm. “We were just being stupid, okay? Sure, she’s pretty, but a lot of guys would fall head over heels for you too.”
“You don’t know that.”
“Trust me, we do,” Yeonjun sighs. Before you can protest, Kai has rejoined the group.
“Hey guys, sorry about—whoa. Y/N, is everything okay?”
“Oh, I’m fine,” you lie, although your forced smile says otherwise. “How’d it go?”
“Good, I think. I apologized for kicking her out and we both came to the conclusion it would be best to not repeat history.”
“That’s all you talked about?”
“Yeah, basically. We don’t actually have a lot in common, so there wasn’t much to say. I mean, it’s not like we talked that much the last time we saw each other either.”
His last sentence makes you feel sick. “It’s getting late,” you say, gathering your things. “I should get home.”
“I’ll walk you,” Kai offers. Usually, you’d just call a car to pick you up, but maybe clearing the air between the two of you would be good.
It would’ve been if you had managed to say any of what you were feeling. Instead, the two of you were walking to your apartment in complete silence.
Almost halfway back, you can’t stand the awkwardness anymore. “Do you want to listen to music?” you ask, grabbing Kai’s attention away from the sidewalk.
“Sure,” he agrees. You reach into your purse and pull out a pair of headphones, handing him one of the earbuds. The short cord pulls the two of you closer.
“What do you want to listen to?” you ask, turning to see his eyes locked on you. His gaze is so intense under the streetlamps that you refuse to meet it, instead scrolling through your endless amount of playlists.
“That one,” he says, reaching over you and clicking onto the one titled ‘best love songs of all time.’ You immediately feel embarrassed that out of all of the options, the one he’s chosen was made for some guy you had an unrequited crush on last year.
Softly by Clairo starts playing, and you hope he doesn’t pay attention too closely to the lyrics.
Kai’s hand brushes against yours in an effort to take it into his, but you pull away. You’re not in the mood to be disappointed over him not actually meaning anything by it.
The only thing preventing you from walking away from him are the headphones connecting the two of you. If he didn’t realize that you’re upset with him before, he certainly knows by now.
You start humming along to the song, mostly out of habit, but it also helps you block out your thoughts.
“This song suits you,” Kai says in a calm voice, making it difficult to ignore him. “It’s soft and pretty. I think I might look up sheet music for it later.”
“I’m glad you like it,” you reply, crossing your arms over your chest.
“I know you’re mad at me,” he continues, catching you off guard. Kai almost always avoids any sort of conflict or confrontation. “I’m sorry for making things awkward. I just felt like I owed her an explanation.”
You stop in your tracks to finally look at him, his eyes darting nervously across your apartment complex’s quiet courtyard.
“Kai, you don’t have to be sorry. I’ve just been feeling weird, okay?” you assure him, removing the earbud and winding up the headphones.
“I still feel like it’s my fault, though. You were happy before we left,” he says, rubbing the back of his neck.
“If she had asked you, would you have gone home with her?” you blurt out.
“What?” he asks in confusion, his brow furrowing.
“I remember you were supposed to hang out with her again, before I walked in and ruined everything between the two of you.”
“No, I don’t think I would’ve. And you didn’t ruin anything, Y/N. I mean, maybe you sped up the process, but things would have never worked out with me and her.”
“And why’s that?”
“I think I’d just prefer to be with somebody else,” Kai says, stepping closer to you. He reaches for your hand again and you finally let him take it.
“Like who?” you blink back at him, your voice barely above a whisper.
“I don’t know, someone I could fall in love with, but would also be my best friend.” Like us, you think to yourself.
“Well, thank you for walking me back,” you say, your keychain rattling.
“Are we still on for Sunday?” Kai asks, running his thumb across the back of your hand.
“I think that probably depends on if you’re free,” you laugh, thinking of the group’s upcoming schedules.
“I can make time for you,” he grins.
“Well, then, yeah.”
“Great, then I’ll see you Sunday,” he says, pulling you into a hug and squeezing you tight. “Goodnight, Y/N.”
“Goodnight, Kai,” you smile, stepping inside and letting the building’s door shut behind you. The weekend can’t come soon enough.
—————-
You’re pretty much used to being a workaholic by now, but Yeonjun and Kai have invited you to TXT’s album launch party as a guest, not as an employee.
As much as you hate to make small talk, it means you get paid to support your best friends and take a couple hours away from running around town and picking up dry cleaning.
“Hueningie, what’s up with you and Y/N,” Taehyun teases him, enjoying the unlimited champagne a bit too much.
“We’re friends,” Kai laughs awkwardly. The boys have been bugging him about you ever since you started working here.
“Dude, you’ve had a crush on her for forever now!” Beomgyu slides into the conversation. “You almost got her fired for calling her pretty in front of Jisoo nim!”
“I mean, he kind of did get her fired. She’s barely allowed to dress any of us anymore,” Taehyun adds. “Except when Kai convinces Soobin to request her now.”
“Be quiet!” Kai says, shushing the two of them. “The both of you are drunk.”
“Well, I’m sober and I think you should tell her how you feel, Hyuka,” Soobin says, startling the rest of the group. How long has he been standing there and listening in?
“She knows how happy I am to be her friend. I tell her all the time,” Kai shrugs. He glances over his shoulder for you, although Yeonjun seems to be keeping you distracted across the room.
“Is there a reason you’re so scared of telling Y/N that you think she’s the prettiest girl in the entire world?” Beomgyu complains. Compared to Kai, he’s an open book, although he has probably half the luck when it comes to wooing girls.
“If you don’t want her, let me take her out,” Taehyun suggests. Kai scowls, his face turning bright red. “See, guys, look at Hueningie all angry that I’m going to steal Y/N from him! Don’t worry, bro. She’s all yours.”
“I don’t like her like that,” Kai repeats in frustration. “I can’t deal with you guys right now.”
He turns to walk over towards you and Yeonjun, but stops dead in his tracks. Instead of Yeonjun, you’re laughing and twirling your hair with someone he’s never even seen before. At his album party.
“Good thing you don’t like her,” Beomgyu notes from behind Kai. “That guy’s sexy.”
“Who is that?” Kai asks, turning back towards his groupmates at the bar. He sits on a stool next to them and gestures for the bartender to pour him another glass.
“I think he’s a trainee. People have been calling him an ace,” Soobin explains. “His name is either Seongmin or Seongjin.”
“But you’re our diamond maknae, Hueningie.” Taehyun adds. “That guy’s got nothing on you.”
“Looks like he’s got Y/N,” Beomgyu observes. “OW!”
Kai turns to see that Soobin has smacked Beomgyu on the back of his head.
“Okay, but what’s he doing here?” Kai crosses his arms, watching as the guy continues to make eyes at you. He can’t blame him—you do look really pretty today.
“I think I heard a rumor that he’s Si-Hyuk nim’s nephew,” Taehyun recalls. “He’s basically guaranteed to be debuting in the upcoming group.”
“Nepotism,” Beomgyu says, nodding. “Sexy and well connected.”
Kai turns back to the bar, downing his drink and gesturing at the bartender for another.
“Huening, you should slow down,” Soobin warns him. “We’re at work, not the club.”
“It’s fine,” Kai huffs, gesturing to Beomgyu and Taehyun giggling about some commercial they saw last night. “At least I’m not them.”
It wasn’t fine. In just a few more drinks, he was much worse. Kai almost never drank this much, and when he did, it was pretty clear that he was a lightweight.
“I’m gonna be sick,” he sighs, hiccuping and now chugging water. Soobin pats his back.
“I know, buddy,” Soobin says, helping him off the stool. “Let’s go find somewhere to lay down.”
They’re so close to leaving the party when Kai spots you again out of the corner of his eye, with the nepo baby’s hand touching your arm. You’re smiling and nodding to whatever the guy is saying, but maybe you’re just being polite.
Kai decides he needs to save you. Breaking free of Soobin’s grip, he makes a beeline towards you. Yeonjun takes notice and tries to stop him in his tracks.
“Whoa, Hueningie, what’s going on?” Yeonjun asks, using his arm to block the maknae from reaching you.
“Isn’t she your best friend,” Kai hisses, his eyes still locked on you. “Why are you letting her get drooled on by that idiot?”
“Dude, calm down,” Yeonjun attempts to reason. “Y/N is a big girl. She’s allowed to talk to whoever she wants. Plus, Seongjin is nice. You should be happy for her.”
“Well I’m not!” Kai screams, causing the party’s chatter to go quiet. You turn to look at him, one of many whose attention has been drawn away.
“You’ll have to excuse me,” you say to Seongjin. In your hand is a piece of paper with his phone number on it. “I’ll call you.”
“Looking forward to it,” he smiles. You nod and smile back before making your way over to Kai.
“Is something wrong with him?” you ask Soobin and Yeonjun. Kai’s legs falter, and your hands grab his sides to steady him. “Holy shit, how much has he had to drink?”
“Too much,” Soobin answers. “We’re going to take him to a practice room.”
“I’ll go with you.” You follow the boys out of the party, which is now awkwardly dispersing given that the entire group is either plastered or missing or both.
Soobin swipes into the nearest practice room. A couple of trainees are inside practicing the choreography to Crown.
“TXT sunbaenim!” one of the prepubescent boys yells, immediately bowing. The rest of them follow suit, before crowding around the idols in wonder.
“Hey, guys, we need this room, okay?” Yeonjun tells them. They nod and quickly gather their things, scrambling out in just a few seconds flat.
Kai groans as Soobin lays him down on the ground, immediately rolling to his side and curling into a ball.
“We’re going to get in so much trouble,” Yeonjun sighs, running a hand through his hair. “Hueningie has such a pure image to uphold. If this gets leaked, it could be really bad.”
“I can go back and try to smooth things over,” Soobin says. “You two should stay with him.”
“I’ll go with you,” Yeonjun adds. “I have a feeling it’ll take more than just you.”
“Guys, I have to get back to work,” you note, the back of your hand pressed against Kai’s forehead. He’s asleep now. When you get up from crouching, you feel his hand grab your wrist.
“Please stay, Y/N,” Kai begs, his eyes still shut. “Please don’t leave me.”
You look at Soobin and Yeonjun for help. They give you knowing glances—you’re not going anywhere. You sigh, sitting down against the wall and pulling Kai’s head into your lap.
Yeonjun takes out his phone and snaps a picture of the two of you. You shoot him a dirty look, gesturing for them to leave the room. After seemingly an entire photoshoot, it’s finally just the two of you.
“Y/N,” Kai mumbles. You’ve been quietly humming to him.
“What is it, Kai?” you ask, the hand that’s been playing with his hair going still.
“No, keep doing that,” he says softly. “That feels good.”
You commence running your hands through his soft strands again. “But what were you trying to say?”
“Oh, right,” he says, snuggling further into you. “I love you, Y/N. I don’t ever want you to go.”
This catches you off guard. Surely, he means it in a friendly way. “I won’t, Kai.”
“Good,” he smiles. After a second, he continues, “Is that guy going to be your new boyfriend?”
“No, I don’t think so,” you reply. When he’s drunk and tired, Kai almost sounds like a little kid.
“Beomgyu thinks he’s sexy. Do you think he’s sexy?” Your eyes go wide. You and Huening Kai have had virtually no discussions about each other’s love lives since becoming friends.
“He’s very good looking,” you acknowledge. Except he’s not your type. Kai is.
“Then you should date him,” Kai says, surprising you. “Apparently he’s Si-Hyuk nim’s nephew, so I don’t think a dating scandal would be a big deal for him.”
Does he actually not care if you start dating someone else? Has all of the tension between the two of you been simply a figment of your imagination?
Before you can protest, Kai’s fallen asleep for real this time. By the time he wakes up, you’ll have said yes to the date, and he won’t even remember that he’s the one who told you to.
—————-
Taglist: @orangesodafoam @deezbutz28 @ur-mother-realnotclickbait @iyeeeverydee @internet-folks @darlingz99 @foxyjun @stardustmooncakes @giaalorine @beomgyubabybear @niningtori @goquokka @csbenthusiast @moarmyjkhk @lizdevorak @sooberryworld @lonelybutterflytae @midnight-mochii @theresawtf @nowadays56 @jjklvr9 @baekberrie @philijack
P.S.: Please shoot me an ask or a reply if you’d like to be added to (or removed from) the taglist! Also, I struggle to keep up with different lists for individual members, but if you really don’t want to be tagged on all of my works, just let me know and I will do my best to keep things separate <3
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I JSUT WANNA START BY SAYING I LOVE YOU SO MUCH.
ok.
so ofc u don’t have to do it but it’s just an idea could you pretty pls do a fic with bill and f reader, and reader (idk how what to call it, sorry i’m so confusing) is not really used to showing love in any way, and isn’t used to being shown love, and for the first time she asks bill to cuddle after a rough day or whatever (up to you) and it’s just rlly rlly cute and stuff
SORRY ITS SO CONFUSING i just need more fluff bill😞
YESS
TYSM FOR THE LOVE IT MEANS SO MUCH YOURE AMAZING AND ILYSM AND ILY ILY ILY ILY MWAH
I had a really, really rough day today. Work was so busy, I was working a 12 hour shift at the hospital I work out. I'm a nurse so I deal with so much ever day.
I came home to see Bill waiting on the couch for me, wrapped in blankets ane watching his favourite show, his eyes lit up when he saw me and he ran to me, "hey baby!" he smiled, I groaned "not now honey..im so tired im sorry" I sighed and grabbed his hand, walking to the couch with him.
Me and Bill have been dating for 9 months and he knows I don't really show affection and that I'm not used to recieving love, in past relationships I was severley neglected and used and it scared me, driving me away from any affection at all.
But tonight was different, after being yelled at, puked on, peed on and slapped 2 times I just needed his touch, I yearned for his arms around me, stroking my hair and kissing me.
We did show some affection of course but it was mainly him.
I whined and looked up at him, "can we cuddle..please.." his eyes widened and his head snapped towards me, "oh..uh..of course baby let's go to bed first" he held my hand, leading me to the bedroom and helping me change into comfier clothes, his actions quick so I wouldn't change my mind.
We slipped into bed and he grabbed my waist, pulling me closer, gently stroking my cheek and kissing me softly. "Why the sudden change of heart liebe?" he whispered softly, looking down at me and smiling like an idiot.
"After being abused all day I just need your touch, I need to be in your arms and feel loved.." I buried my head in his chest, wrapping my arms around him tightly and feeling his heartbeat against my ear.
"Do you want to do this more often schatz? I mean if you like it, why not do it more often, hm?" he stroked my hair gently, I considered it, I loved the way his arms felt around me, it was like relief after so long of being mistreated.
"I think we should, I was just scared and had to face my fears I guess, I could spend hours like this" I smiled, he chuckled "me too, me too"
After laying in silence for a while, enjoying each others company and Bill giving me occasional kisses or back rubs, he whispered softly in my ear, "you're becoming sleepy schatz, let's go to bed" I nodded softly and slipped off his chest, turning around and backing into him, I felt his arms wrap around my frame and hold me close, kissing my neck softly before whispering a loving 'goodnight' to me.
I was too tired to even speak and just replied with a mumble, Bill chuckled and turned the lamp off, slowly falling asleep in each other embrace.
tags: @itsmealaiah @ballhair @ge-billsgf @estxkios @bkaulitzlover @itsangelll @cyberleathalz @charliesgoodboy @tomkaulitzloverr
#tom kaulitz#tokiohotel#bill kaulitz#georg listing#gustav schäfer#bill kaulitz x female reader#bill kaulitz x reader#bill kaulitz x you#bill kaulitz x y/n#bill kaulitz fluff#bill kaulitz fanfic#bill#ilovebillkaulitzhessosexyiwanthimtopoundmypussysoharditbreaksapart#ilovebillkaulitzmymanmymanmymanmyman#i love bill kaulitz#so yummy#soaking wet#wet and gushy#so cute#cute#tokio hotel fluff#fluff drabble#sweet fluff#fluff#billkaulitzissofuckingsexy#tokio hotel
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Live-Read: The Remington Comic [PART 2]
TOME 11
We go, we steal, we leave… I don't want any trouble, Remington, got it?
Wohaa, as if…
I'm telling you, we steal Beating Heart and that's it.
The way Luis is drawn in this comic is so cute, sorry...
Very intrigued by the books standing on top of a flowerpot standing on top of a stool, the random kettle on the floor, a blanket half-covering an unidentified fucking object, more books, and what seems to be a bell, or a bottle, standing on the floor.
Kerubim and Atcham seem to have been away for A While. And Joris doesn't like to clean.
Make less noise when you walk.
If we wake the guy up, meow to make him think a cat got into the home. Uh uh.
This idea is so stupid for so many reasons, both ones Remington and Grany should know, and ones known only to us... It's kind of admirable.
Also I still can't get over how fucking messy Joris is. Either it's his depression, his ADHD, or Kerubim's Upbringing that made him that way. Man...
Anyway,
Do you remember where it was stored?
Don't worry. Here it is!
THE RANDOM ELEPHANT FIGURES?? I bet they're Keke's... Also, once again, many, many books left everywhere. He's insane.
Come here, you.
What was that?
No idea… You must have moved something that fell.
While I wish it was Luis, it's actually an unrelated monster under Bonta that will be a big problem in the next issue of the comic.
Come on… let's go!
Yes… that was indeed the talking bow meow… who was transformed by a certain Ush.
The way he's talking about them here is so science-y. As if whether they would come or not was like an experiment to him. It's so funny.
Also, Pupuce!!!!! My beloved Pupuce. <3
My instincts tell me to go hang out in the slums for a while.
If only he could stay there...
LMAOOO.
Once again, I am grateful that Ush's weird and creepy relationship with cats (albeit... sentient cats, at least) was retconned into a more positive one in season 4 of Wakfu. I still think it's fucking weird, but it certainly makes him funnier as a character.
Ush hates Bump, and it's really like... "my noble sentient catfucking (while i myself shapeshift into a cat) vs. your creepy and barbarous panty collecting."
Hello, you may call me Joris, I would like to meet the noble Ush in order to ask him a few questions about a rogue and a bow meow that...
Master does not accept visitors.
??
THIS IS SO FUNNY. THE WAY HE INTRODUCED HIMSELF?? The way this guy closed the door. God...
Also, his cunty little hand on chest thing.... I CAN'T.
Mhh, very well… Let's see. Mhm...
If anyone knows where the beating heart is, then that person is here.
YYAAAAHH!
LITTLE GUY!!!!!!!!!!?? YOU SWAG TOO HARD. I CAN'T DO THIS AYMORE. His pure and beautiful whimsy... He's so happy to be running... Like a gazelle.
YAAH AH AH!! Anyone? And who're you?
We're prisoners… Get us out of here, I beg you.
D'you know a rogue and his bow meow brother?
Y'know, this page does haunt me a little. Because he's so, so informal here — and kind of insane too. HE BRINGS OVER A STOOL TO TALK TO TWO PEOPLE ACTIVELY BLEEDING OUT, JUST TO TALK TO THEM WHILE MAKING EYE CONTACT. After that, no vous/vous for them, and when they ask for help, he's like "yeah no, first tell me — do you know that guy who wronged me?"
I'm obsessed with him.
Do I know them? Of course, I know them. You could even say I'm here because of them.
They talked about Ush, that's why I came.
You get us out of here, and we'll help you find them.
Oki-doki... cross my heart!
But you'll have to find the key to open it.
A key? To close things it might be necessary, yes, but not to open.
You're small but mighty, I say!
While I think Joris is a good person and would have helped them even if they knew nothing, I do think that asking about Remington before he freed them was a way of subtly suggesting they help him in return.
Love the way he says "oki-doki"... this 600yo man and his multitudes...
Also, Joris can bend metal. Now imagine him chained up and just... casually breaking the chains, once he's done pretending to be trapped. No wonder Ush needed dragon slobber to restrain him.
He's a bit shaken up, but he should be fine…
Stop that… I'm going to puke.
Beautiful.
This reaction Ush has to this huge-ass thing goes out to the Ush fans among my readers.
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