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oceandelreysworld · 3 days ago

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Loving injuries

Vi x injured reader - pt 1.

(Fluff, tension, blood-kinda-, making out)

This is my first story, so uhh, lmk what I need to improve on or if it's good or not!

Made this a little different from the show like:

After Vi "died." Everyone went their separate ways, some better than others.

Ekko met Vi after she got out of jail, letting her stay with at the firelights hide out.

Ekko was like an older brother when you guys were little, but you haven't seen him in forever(he still has that brotherly act of protection and is still defensive over you)

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You and Vi were child hood friends and you had the biggest crush on her but then she "died". She was romeing the streets then she finds you against a building, sleeping....but she doesn't notice your hurt..

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"Y/n?" Vi shakes your shoulder to wake you. She moves you hood out of your face. "Oh my god, y/n!" You wake up and realize someone's talking to you and touching you.

"Get away, I'll hurt you." You say as you whisper, slowly grabing her wrist, using up all your energy. "Y/n it's me, Vi." You look up at her, letting go of her wrist, but you can't see her. Your visions all blurry.

"No, stop, get away from me!" You tilt your head up to try and look at her better. "Y/n..I'm right here."

She squats to your level. She's strokes her thumb on your cheek. You wince at first, but then you look up to see the comfort of her light powder blue eyes and the pink shade of her hair.

You relax, your head into her palm, and start tearing up. Trying to use your arms to sit up but end up slowly leaning back down to the ground.

"I thought you died. What happened to you?...We needed you. I- I needed you." You muttered the last part in hope that she didn't hear you.

"I know... I'm so sorry. I got arrested... I'm sorry I left the way I did."

She gets down on her knees to hug you tightly when you whimper in pain. "Ow shit shit shit!" You shift your hand to hold tighter on the side of your stomach.

"What is it? What's wrong?"

You steadily move your hand and show her. There's a large blotch of blood seeping through your shirt.

"Y/n what the hell happened?! Who did this to you..?" She shifts her hand twords the injured area. "It's fine.. I'm fine. I've been like this for a few days."

She lifts your shirt up to see the wooned. You rapped that part of your stomach in bandages, but there's still a hole lot of blood on them. Vi slowly unrapped it while looking up at your eyes ever once a while.

She takes it all off, and she sees the huge wooned. It looked infected. Yellow coloring around the area and was still parshly still open and somewhat still bleeding. She could see where you tried stitching it up.

"Y/n, this looks really bad. How long have actually been like this?"

"I-...I've been here for a week. You sigh, knowing if you lied to her, that would make her even more worked up than she already is.

"I got stabbed almost two weeks ago.." You pause to take a breath. "I dont know who did it. All I know is I was trying to... okay, well, I was trying to steal some food... L-listen, I know it's bad, but I don't have any money, and I can't get up without the risk of it opening back up again.." she looks at you with her wide, worried eyes.

"Look, I know a place where you can rest, and I'm not giving you a choice. You're coming with me. Okay? And we'll figure out how to get you up." You admit defeat and relax your muscles against the wall again.

"..okay."

She raps you back up but puts the bandage on tighter so it doesn't rip.

"Okay, ready?" She holds your face, putting her forehead against yours. Getting back into a squatting position.

"No, but that's fine." She chuckles "Okay I'll pick you up slow. Don't worry about putting your weight on me. I can handle it, I've got you."

"Okay... thank you." You mumbled.

You rap your arms around her neck. She picks you up as slowly as possible. As she stands you up, you whine in pain, tucking your head into her neck. She tapes your thigh, letting you know she wants your legs up around her. She's holding you up by your thighs. You close your eyes, resting your head on her shoulder, loosening the rest of your body against hers.

"You okay, princess?"

You froze up. You haven't heard anybody call you that in a really...really long time. She would call you that when you guys were kids, it would annoy you back then, but now? It sounds so comforting coming from her, but in truth, you start to get flustered.

Your whole body heats up, and you hide your face back into her her neck so she doesn't see you blushing.

"I- um. Yeah. Yes. I mean, I'm okay."

She noticed your body tence up and the warmth of hers against yours.

"Okay..." She lifts her eyebrow side eyeing you with a smeark on her face. She didn't think you would react like this. She laughs lightly under her breath.

________________________

You fell asleep while she walked the both of you through the sewers. She meets what seems like a dead end. She knocks a certain rhythm, allowing the door to slowly open.

As you slowly wake up, you're greeted by lots of lights. "Ahh." You shelled your eyes with your arm, trying to get used to the bright lights. "Well, good morning, sunshine." she laughs lightly.

"Hey...Vi?" Ekko says as he jogs up to Vi noticing you in her arms, not knowing it's you. Your breath chokes up hearing such a familiar yet unfamiliar voice.

"So uhh...you gunna introduce me?"

You turn your head slowly. Your eyes meet his, starting to tear up. Getting out of Vi's arms as quickly as you can, still having a hard time walking. You tried to walk to him, you lean for him almost falling if him and Vi didn't catch you. Your arms go around him as he goes around your neck.

You start sobbing immediately when he hugs back.

"I...I haven't seen- seen you in f-forever." It's hard for you to get a full sentence out, trying to catch your breath from crying as well from the pain on your side.

"H-how are you-...are you..are you real..?"

Hugging you tighter and placing his head on top of yours. Ekkos voice trying not to crack, but how could he not? You were like his little sister.

As you stay like that for a moment, he pulls away. Vi pulling you back so you can rest your weight on her chest. You stumbled a bit, but she held you with support.

His eyes widen, looking down at your stomach. "God! Your bleeding!" You lightly laugh it off, but you couldn't hold back your coughing. Sweat dripping from the side of your forehead. You grip your side tightly.

"Ekko, she needs to lay down. Now."

"I got it. Hey, we need backboard now!" Ekko yells waving his hand in a hurry.

"Guys, really, I'm fi..." Your sentence fades as you faint, leaning back on Vi, now all your weight is forced onto Vi front body.

"Shit shit now!" Vi yells, grabing under both your arms. Ekko quickly goes to you, grabing the back of your neck so you don't hurt it.

Vi, Ekko, and some of the firelights lift you onto the backboard. They lift you up, walking to the room where Vi has been staying.

Setting you down to put you on the bed slowly. Ekko asked the rest of them to leave. Vi was sitting beside the bed, keeping a close eye on your movements, while Ekko was leaning against the wall.

"Why didn't you tell me you knew where she was.." Ekko says with his head down, zoning out on the floor. "Ekko, I just found her not even two hours ago.. If I knew she was hurt.. hell, if I knew she was still alive, you think I wouldn't tell you?" Vi starts to raise her voice in defense twords him. Ekko was about to speak when they both noticed you turning your head.

"Hmm...? Oww shit." You bring your hands up to cover your face in pain, then to your side.

"Hey princess... how you feeling?" She brushes her hand along the side of your cheek. Your eyes look up at hers with such a soft glimpse.

"I'm- ow- I feel sick.." You cough a little more aggressively than early. To aggressive for Vi's comfort. She rests her hand on your head, feeling for your temp. "Cupcake, you're really hot. Drink some water." She says as she helps your head up, putting her hand on the back of your neck, and brings the cup to your mouth.

"I'm gunna go see if we have any more blankets and possibly some pillows, okay? I shouldn't be out too long." He looks past Vi, making it seem like he was only talking to you. You could feel the thickness of the tension in the room between the two.

"Okay, thank you." He walks up to you, smiling, giving you a peck on your head before walking out of the room, closing the door.

The blinds are shut, as well as the windows. It helps, but it scares you a bit to be in such an unfamiliar area. Vi can tell from your expressions that you feel uncomfortable.

"Baby, what is it? Is something the matter?" As you turn your head twords her, looking up at her, surprised at the pet name she called you. Vi gently cups your face, strokes of her thumb slowly makes your garde go down.

"Im...fine. I just don't feel good, and I'm a little... uncomfortable being here.."

"Yeah? Why is that?"

You stay silent for a moment, not knowing how to express your emotions.

"Is there anything I can do to help cupcake?" She looks at you with care in her eyes.

There she goes again. Those names... god, they sound so sweet coming from her. You can't believe you ever thought this was annoying.

You hold eye contact for a few minutes, maybe? It feels like it could be forever from how locked your eyes were set on each other.

"I.." You turn your head away, looking over, breaking eye contact. It was getting to be too much for you.

She gently turns you by your chin to look back at her. She looked at you with such soft eyes while her eyebrows frowned lightly.

"I'm okay Vi. I'll be alright, okay?"

"Okay.."

She leans twords you, resting her head against yours. As she picks her head up, she looks down at your bandages, ghosting her hand against it.

"Do you want me to restich this?"

"If you can, please...I don't want you to go out of your way, though."

"It'll never be out of my way if it's for you. Understand? When you need me, I'm there. When you call me, I'm there. Okay?" She spoke so softly yet firmly to get the point through you.

Her lips brush a slow kiss on your head.

Once she takes off the bandages fully, she takes out the old stitchs slowly, trying not to hurt you. Somewhat successful. She pulls out the alcohol. Your whole body tenses up, moving yourself over to the other side of the bed, scared of how bad it's gunna hurt.

Vi sets the bottle down and reaches for your hand, slowly trying not to scare you away. You let her hold your hand as her thumb strokes the back of your hand.

"Princess, it's badly infected, I need to clean it before it gets worse, I'll hold your hand all the way through. Please just...let me help."

You stay in the same spot in silence, hesitating to rest back on the bed, even though it hurts like hell.

"I have a feeling you're feeling this sick because it's infected." She brings your hand up to her lips, brushing kisses on the back of your hand, in hopes to comfort you. Each kiss makes you relax your body against the bed.

"Okay... just don't put it directly on it. Please."

"I wouldn't, I'll use uh... this."

She said as she looked around for cotton swabs. Finding some holding it up so you know what it is.

"Okay, just be gentle..?" You look at her with puppy eyes, not realizing what you were doing.

"Of course, princess, always." All Vi could think about is pulling your face close to hers to kiss you...

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Part two soon! Ik this is really long for my first one but I really like this plot ig😅

#arcane vi #vi fluff #arcane fluff #arcane x reader #vi x reader #vi x you #vi smut #vi x y/n #vi arcane #vi league of legends #league of legends #arcane #arcane community #arcane league of lesbians #arcane x you #piltovers finest #arcane fanfic

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keferon · 4 hours ago

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Chapter 2 of Blurr storyline >:D

“Actually” says Swerve ”I'm an alien.”

“Heh” giggles Blurr ”sorry, my head is all cloudy, I thought you said you were an alien.”

Part one

Holy shit I actually managed to finish it…..Oh. My god.

Under the cut⤵️

Is it stupid to miss someone who doesn't even exist?

Probably yes, but hey, Swerve already has several degrees, might as well get another one. A degree in Stupidity or something. Who cares?

For the first few days after waking up from his coma, he feels like he's going crazy. Everybody has realistic dreams, right? The ones where you can scrutinize every angle, memorize every face and smell and sound. The ones that make you lie still for a while after waking up, grasping at every thing you can. Trying to memorize everyone you meet, imprint them in your head.

Because apart from your mind, they don't exist anywhere else. So that's your only way to keep them.

It never works. Obviously. Details slip away. Impressions fade. Just a couple days, and you won't be able to recall anything but the main events from memory.

Wait, hell, not days. Cycles.

His life is a weird, pathetic, fantastical circus. Earth term. Heh. There are no circuses on Cybertron, haha!

But Swerve remembers. And the word circus, and the smell of asphalt, and rains that were made of water not acid. Remembers the English language. Can speak it fluently, even if you wake him up in the middle of the night.

Remembers his work schedule and remembers which company makes the best details. And Tailgate with his bright blue uniform and Wheeljack with his endless experiments and Swindle with his expensive coat and of course...yeah, no, don't think of Blurr, don't think of Blurr, don't. Don't.

He'd heard about it. Read about it, too. Mechs waking up from comas and doing wild things. Some forgot how to speak at all, some gained a new skill, some lived a whole life while they slept.

Articles tell Swerve, don't worry, what you've experienced isn't unique. The doctor tells Swerve that the same thing has happened to others before you, it will be okay, it will pass.

Swerve isn't sure he wants it to pass.

He's been in a coma for who knows how long. The medic said it was caused by an internal trauma that decided to suddenly get worse. One minute he's recharging , the next he's gone. Internal injuries are insidious.

So it turns out. One day he just disappeared from the world because he was busy slowly dying in his room and no one noticed until a thief tried to sneak in. The only one who came to him was a Mech who wanted to steal his stuff. Huh.

That feels revolting. Swerve liked to think he had enough friends. Or at least enough good connections. Enough those who should have noticed his absence, right?

Apparently not. His shifts at work were reassigned, his contacts never texted him first, his...

His small persona wasn't important enough for anyone to notice his disappearance.

Would his human coworkers notice? Would Tailgate have noticed? Or Jazz? Swindle?

Jazz would have noticed, he was always surprisingly attentive when it came to his friends. And he was friends with just about everybody.

Swindle would probably get upset about the money he'd lost.

It's amazing how much his brain-- wait, no, his processor. How much his processor could create to entertain him. It's a more elaborate world than the most complex series Swerve has ever known. And that scrap had forty-six seasons and fifteen encyclopedias!

People, Earth, a bunch of new languages and rules and all for the sake of the end being like, OOPS! ...it was all a dream. Hilarious. Worst plot twist ever. Swerve hates it when stories go in this direction even more than when they kill off their characters.

In his humble opinion, death is better than the revelation that none of the experiences made sense or had any value. In terms of writing scripts obviously. Haha.

He's busy roaming haphazardly through his own memory. He's looking, comparing, trying to find inconsistencies or things that don't make sense. All the stuff that usually gives away the fact that what happened was a dream.

Most of his memories are occupied by--No. Frag.

Don't think about Blurr, don't think about Blurr, don't think..

He's thinking about Blurr. A lot.

Blurr occupies a surprisingly important role in his comatose dreams.

In the time he spent just looking at him, you could hand-build an entire Mech. Maybe even three. Swerve remembers picking up every bit of merch he could reach with his paycheck. Watching hundreds of videos and buying every new themed drink even if it was a flavor he didn't like.

Then spent a surprising amount of time resenting Blurr for not living up to his fantasies.

Blurr's behavior hadn't helped either, of course, but now, looking back at the past himself Swerve thinks that.. Oh wow. You weren't just annoyed at him. You blamed him for ruining your beautiful fantasy. You were having so much fun entertaining yourself with thoughts of this marvelous image, and he came along and corrupted it. Poisoned the well you drank joy from.

But that's not quite true, Swerve thinks.

Blurr was more complicated than that. But exactly how, he'll never know. All he has are his memories, and those memories are cut short at the most interesting point.

Swerve knows this plot twist. The asshole character that no one loves at the last second turns out to not be what everyone thought, but it's too late.

Oh no, he's not an evil jerk, he's actually traumatized. Oh no, he wasn't bad, he was actually secretly helping everyone. You thought he was awful? Well now you're going to feel awful reading fanfics.

Serevus Spayne didn't actually betray the main character's dad, no no, he was in love with him! Bam. Drama.

Swerve isn't a big fan of this stuff. He likes his characters developed properly. But he can't deny the appeal of a character leaving behind a bunch of questions you thought you knew the answer to.

Uggh.

The doctor was wrong. These thoughts don't go away. These memories don't dull.

Swerve just boils in them, constantly getting stuck in his own head. Sometimes he puts English words into his speech and everyone looks at him strangely. Sometimes he reflexively says some inside joke and no one gets it and he's left standing there with an awkward smile. Because. Guys, you don't understand, if my coworkers were here they'd think it's hilarious. I promise, in my fantasy world, it's funny.

When he gets a job on one of the Autobot ships, he accepts it thinking it might be a good distraction from his thoughts.

When he happens to see Prowl with a tiny human on his shoulder in the corridor of that ship, he thinks he's lost his mind.

The whole thing. The whole load-bearing structure on which his picture of the world has been held suddenly gives a lurch. Living your life in a super realistic dream is wild, but meeting a character from your dream in real life??

Freaking cursed.

Jazz looks puzzled by his reaction, but all Swerve can think about are two things.

One, if Jazz is here, does that mean everything else was real, too???

Two - holy shit, Jazz is tiny.

It never occurred to him. But he didn't really know what size humans were. Well, sure, he could measure it in numbers. But he was among humans himself. And about the same size. He was generally even shorter than most of them.

If Jazz is so small, he can't imagine how tiny Tailgate would be. Or--

He can feel his spark freeze. In fact, he can almost hear the sound of a string breaking in his processor. Does that mean Blurr is real too? Real and just as tiny and currently dead? Because Swerve was there but was too convinced it was all just a dream to help?

He's going to get sick.

He needs to talk to Jazz right now.

____________

Swerve taps his fingers nervously on the countertop. Come on. You're good at talking. Talking is your greatest skill. All you have to do is tell someone else about your comatose hallucinations and hope they don't think you're crazy.

They're sitting at a table at the bar. More specifically Swerve and Prowl are sitting at the table, and Jazz is sitting right on the table. (God he's so small).

“So uh. I got injured a while back and...uh...well, it got worse, turned out important systems were affected and I kind of. I was in a coma. For a really long time.”

Jazz frowns

“Oh. I’m sorry to hear that.”

He speaks in a mildly wonky Common, Swerve notes to himself. He waves his servo a little too cheerfully in response.

“'Ay it's no big deal really. I saw a whole other world while I was asleep and like. See, I thought it was just my fantasies, but it seemed very real and...”

Swerve mentally crosses his fingers.

“And it was about this planet called Earth and about people who were building their own inanimate huge robots to fight huge aliens and their boss wanted to launch Mechs into space, so he picked the best of the pilots named Jazz and sent him on this test mission and...”

Jazz looks at him with huge eyes before switching to English in surprise.

“Mech, what the hell?”

“...And we lost him...” finishes Swerve with a sad smile.

Before thinking for a bit, and adding.

“I'm going to show you a trick I can do.”

And then projects his holoform onto the table in front of him.

This. It's weird. Not in a way that would tilt it in the direction of unnatural. More like walking around in his comfy indoor pajamas right in the middle of the street. Being human is familiar to him, but being human amongst huge Cybertronians? Strange. And a little creepy.

Prowl looks confused.

Jazz looks absolutely frantic.

“SWERVE????”

Swerve doesn't even manage to respond, only to smile in relief before Jazz rakes him into his arms. In his holoform, Jazz feels right again. He's taller than Swerve and oh boy, he's alive and unharmed. To think everyone thought he was dead, staying up nights trying to find what was left of him, and he was on the other side of the universe the whole time?

Swerve chuckles into Jazz's shoulder. Then picks him up and spins him around a couple times just because he needs something to get his energy out. Man, it's nice to hug people. Warm and soft, eight out of ten.

Jazz pulls away but still stays standing very close. Swerve can literally see the happy stars in his eyes.

“Dude, I'm not complaining but what...how???? You just kinda..."

Swerve laughs and twitches his eyebrows playfully.

“I still speak English, you don't have to torture yourself with Common.”

“Oh thank fuck.” Jazz throws his hands up dramatically “you're my favorite person right now.”

There is a polite click of the vocalizer resetting above their heads.

“I” Prowl says “very glad you two are happy but I'd like some explanation”

Swerve presses his head into his shoulders guiltily. Prowl has the unique ability to always sound like you've done something wrong in front of him.

Although Jazz doesn't seem to feel the same way?

“Short version - I sleepwalked my holoform to another planet.”

He pauses dramatically.

“The long version is...”

Jazz raises his hand

“What's a holoform?”

Swerve sighs.

“It's a holographic avatar that I can project using a holomatter generator. Sort of like a remote controlled game character.”

Jazz whistles impressed. And then immediately turns back to Prowl

“Have you been able to do that all this time too?“

Prowl hums

“I can create an avatar, but it takes a lot of practice to make it at least believable. And to fully perceive the world through it takes even more. It's a whole new technology. What Swerve does is essentially an art form. Sophisticated and impressively detailed may I add.”

Swerve shrugs shyly. He's still using the holoform to stand on the table next to Jazz. Looking up to speak to Prowl isn't exactly comfortable, but Jazz definitely looks like he's been missing the human presence. Swerve isn't human, but he might as well be.

“Thank you. Yes! Uh. Anyway, it seems while I was in a coma my processor projected my avatar onto Earth and I...let's just say I lived there for a while.”

Jazz laughs

“Dude. So you're telling me you were basically sleepwalking the whole time?”

“ I was.”

Prowl frowns.

“But the range limit of the holomatter generator is only four hundred miles...”

“.... I had a lot of practice...”

Jazz claps his hands.

“You learned a whole other language! Got an ID!. You had a job!!!”

“I got carried away,” Swerve admits.

Jazz scratches the back of his head, still looking very amused

“How many degrees did you get? Haha wait no, I have a better question, did you pass your driver's license?”

“Two. And I failed my driver's exam.”

“Dude you are literally a car without a driver's license!” collapses Jazz on the table with laughter.

Swerve blows the hair out of his face

“Says you who retook the physical several times. You couldn't pass the "being human" exam.”

Jazz just wheezes incoherently in response. Prowl looks alarmed.

“Don't worry, that's him getting excited. So...where have I been...”

Swerve nervously shoves his hands into his pockets

“...Do either of you two know where Earth is?”

Prowl twitches his door wings

“No. Since Jazz was teleported we don't have much clues.”

Swerve grimaces. Scrap. Of course nothing's going to be that easy. He's also been, like,....teleported.

He stands there for a couple minutes and just feels fifteen different emotions rise up in his head at once. A crooked, unsteady smile creeps across his face.

He's thinking.

Oh hell, yeah! I knew it wasn't a dream!

Then he remembers the mess he left behind.

Oh, no, it wasn't a dream.

Jazz puts a hand on his shoulder.

“Swer... Swerve? Dude, are you okay?”

“Ah frag..” Swerve says weakly ”it wasn't a dream.”

Jazz looks...puzzled.

“Is that bad?”

Swerve remembers his friends. Remembers the Mecha program. Remembers fire and smoke and screams and rumbling and crackling flames. Ashes flying through the air and the smell of burnt wires. He remembers blood and debris and...

“It's...complicated.”

This wasn't just a stupid plot twist he'd dreamed up because he'd watched too many shows. This wasn't a hallucination or a disembodied fantasy that just happened to linger in his head. This was real. His friends exist out there somewhere. His work and his collections and his little apartment...

And Blurr. Was real. Or still is? Swerve doesn't know. Blurr wasn't a product of his imagination. He was real and what he did was real and Swerve left him there alone, bleeding and trapped in rubble and tiny and...

Hahahahah oh fUCK.

He doesn't like this plot. It's too much. Too much to handle, too complicated, too ambiguous.

It's also probably too late.

But he can't leave it like this, right? Blurr went into the damn burning building just because of the possibility that there might be someone alive in there.

And Swerve doesn't even have to go through the flames. He has to look. He has to try at least.

Jazz glares at him with a worried look on his face

“ That expression you have...”

Swerve puts the smile back on his face.

“I need to get to Earth.”

___________________

Swerve is not an idiot.

Or maybe more accurately an idiot, but with several degrees.

He's well aware that finding Earth in space with only a description of it is impossible. Which leaves him with two options.

Ask the Quintessons. Or look for it himself.

The first sounds like death. The second like coma. Swerve has exquisite enough taste to know which is better.

He just needs to do some preliminary reserch.....

Jazz, now back inside his Mech looks doubtful.

“You're not going to die suddenly and for no reason, are you?”

Swerve laughs.

“Pfffff what, no of course not, would I kill myself hah. No no, look I'll just put myself in stasis for a bit. Send myself to Earth. And try to figure out where it is from there. Get the coordinates. If I'm lucky, I can see what Space Bridge the local Quintessons use. All you'll have to do is wake me up after a while.”

“It's not harmful?”

Swerve makes an uncertain gesture with his hand...servo.

“If I have enough fuel. And an additional connection to an external generator.”

Jazz tilts his head

“ Why are you so eager to get to Earth? Don't get me wrong, I miss it too and want to go back, but.”

Swerve bites his knuckles.

“ I have some unfinished business?”

“Pshhhh you sound like a ghost.”

Swerve only laughs in response.

_______________

Concentration is tricky.

Swerve tries to think about Earth. And not to think about the fact that he doesn't know where it is. If he's already been there once, he might as well go there again yes? In theory? Perhaps?

Except for the possibility that his sleepwalking just takes him to random planets. That would be very inconvenient. It would be a whole new level of lost

Shit. No. Earth. Think Earth.

What's he even gonna do when he gets there? How far away is it? Swerve is very talented with his holomatter generator, but if it's really far away... maybe he should reset some settings.

He mentally starts going through his options. Does he need tangibility? Probably not. Come to think of it, it would only make him more vulnerable and take a lot of energy. Yeah, the tangibility has to go. What else? Touch, too. Sight and hearing should stay, that's not even a question, but colors and textures are not really necessary.

The amount of detail and picture quality can be reduced as well. His holoform will become colorless and grainy and will probably ripple with static, but he'll survive it.

After he finishes making changes to his holoform he thinks about his old stuff left in his house. Then about the posters. Then reminds himself that he needs to focus on the goal or he'll never find Blurr and...oh FUCK his phone! Where was his phone when he disappeared? Was it found?? There were so many personal things on that phone, he's hoping the phone was burned under the rubble. Either that or the arriving investigators will find his browser history and he'll go into another coma from pure embarrassment.

He blinks dazedly when he realizes he has loads of rocks in front of his eyes. Oh..Did he screw up? Did he end up on the wrong planet? Is it a cave or--

Then he notices the odd shape of the “rocks” and. Oh, no. It's not a cave. It's charred concrete debris.

This is the place where he was last.

He hastily looks around. Anxiety creeps up the back of his neck, makes him feel like something slippery and cold is crawling over his skin. There is nothing but ruins all around.

Blurr is not here. The place where his Mech was lying is empty.

Which means he was at least found and dragged out. Dead or alive.

Swerve's bites his knuckles. Okay.

All right.

He's got things to do.

_______________

He's trying to stay out of sight. Which isn't hard, considering he's just a hologram. At first, he just sneaks around in the quiet areas. Then proceeds to do a facepalm and start teleporting. Think, Swerve. Did you read all those comic books for nothing? Superheroes who couldn't really use their superpowers creatively always annoyed him. And he does, in fact, have a superpower. Gotta get creative, right?

He stops and looks at himself again. His holoform is going static and is a dull white color. He thinks for a bit, and then shrinks himself. Thinks some more, and makes himself almost transparent. There's no way he could pass as a normal human right now, so he'd better just do his best to avoid being seen by anyone.

He looks around thoughtfully. Hmm. Even if he's going to be absolutely tiny, he needs to make sure no one sees him, otherwise the whole base will think the Quintessons are now spying on them through holograms or something.

Breaking the rules feels...it's exciting.

All his ..human life here he hadn't thought about it, but if he threw away the rules he was used to about what people could or couldn't do...

He looks up in a sudden rush of sly genius. All people look under their feet when they walk, but how many look up? And how many of them notice the barely visible tiny holoform hiding just behind the blinding lamps?

The answer is probably none.

Swerve projects himself onto the ceiling and mentally pats himself on the shoulder for his impressive intellectual accomplishments. A creativity degree should definitely be a thing.

A degree in spying on the Quintessons' ships wouldn't hurt him either.

Fortunately sneaking onto their ship turns out not to be that difficult. Swerve makes himself absurdly tiny and hides in the darkest corners that no one would ever think to look into. Why hasn't anyone thought of using holoforms for spying before? Could he be the first to think of it? He doesn't know, but he mentally decides to patent the idea.

Finding the Space Bridge is surprisingly easy. The local Quintesson fleet is clearly used to being the dominant force in space. And that's generally logical. Even if humanity collects a mountain of money from somewhere to throw a dozen Mechs into space - there will be thousands of monsters waiting for them. In such a situation, you don't have to hide, the guards are enough.

Well done, well done, don't hide, Swerve thinks, copying the coordinates and address of the space bridge to himself. You have absolutely nothing to fear here, he thinks, so stay where you are and don't move. Please and thank you.

Once the coordinates are obtained, he... has some freedom to explore. And he uses it for probably the most boring-sounding thing in the world. He returns to his usual workplace.

It’s simple. As damning as the Mecha program was, Swerve loved his job in it. He loved his position in the assembly shop. And he missed his friends.

He quickly teleports through several rooms, continuing to hide close to the lamps. Tailgate is here. Alive and unharmed. Wheeljack is too, though his face has some scars added to it. It's great to see them again, even if he can't talk to them right now. No one will probably react well to a grainy unexplainable hologram. He's just glad to know they're okay and honestly, the last thing he needs is paranoid Onslaught installing extra signal jammers.

It takes time to find Blurr. Partly because Swerve is terrified of what he might find if he started looking. So he goes to check the death lists first, and only after flipping through and re-reading them three times does he finally exhale in relief.

Blurr's name isn't there.

So his smug, shiny ass must be around here somewhere.

He checks the hangar. Flips through the Mech launch logs and feels an uncomfortable knot begin to form in his chest. Blurr's Mech has never been repaired or launched even once since the incident. Its plating has been replaced with new, well polished, and put in a prominent place where anyone who wants to can take a picture of it. But all the internal systems are destroyed. This machine hasn't been used for anything other than being a beautiful exhibit.

That's...something's wrong.

He checks offices and schedules as well as eavesdropping on a few conversations and ends up secretly following Swindle, who is arguing loudly with someone on the phone. He says something about deals and how he doesn't need anyone meddling in his business. Then he talks about how he's got everything under control and the person on the phone is “a dumbass who's making drama out of nothing” and that “he doesn't need anyone's handouts". Then he sighs and says, “you know how celebs are. Dumb and dramatic. You can't take their words literally.”

Then drops the call and for a couple seconds looks like he's just had a large bill taken right out of his hand. Curses again, but in a quieter voice. Leafs through his contacts and stops at the one signed 'free ice'.

“Blurr? Where are you? Wha...ah, no wait. No, the advertising agency called. No, liste...Can you shut up for one second?Where are you?

Uh-huh....... Uh-huh.Okay.

Give me half an hour...okay, yeah.”

This is it, Swerve thinks.

He shrinks himself further and teleports under the collar of Swindle's coat.

He wants to take a look. Just. Just a peek. Make sure everything's all right. Then he can go about his original mission in peace. He watches Swindle get in his car and drive off somewhere. Swerve doesn't recognize this part of town. The houses here are much nicer than where he lived. The streets are cleaner.

He tucks himself further under the coat collar. He's not going to be a stalker or anything, but he's worried and he doesn't have time to wait for Blurr himself to show up for work. Just one little look and that's it.

Swindle's car stops outside a beautiful, shiny hospital. Swerve nervously tries to bite his knuckles, but remembers he's disabled touch in his holoform. Shit? Shit.

Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit. Shi

Blurr looks like a mangled corpse.

Okay, not really. His left side that faces the door to the hospital room looks like a mangled corpse and that's the first thing that catches Swerve's eye when he's inside.

Blurr is pale and thin and his hands are covered in bandages. The left side of his face has been turned into an absolute ugly nightmare. A piece of his ear is missing. In the place of the left eye is a creepy empty hole.

Suddenly Swerve realizes why Blurr didn't show up for work. You can't even show him to his coworkers like that, not just to the public.

Blurr turns his head and the spell breaks. His lips stretch into a cocky smile.

“'Got bored without me Swindle?”

Swindle doesn't show the slightest emotion at the gruesome sight. He casually pulls a chair over to the hospital bed and sits down.

“Shockwave is trying to sneak a new project into the program. And he's slowly swaying investors to his side, using you as an excuse. Tells everyone you're a poor martyr he can save if only he's given the green light from above.”

Blurr wrinkles his nose.

“Not that he's wrong. The doctors say I need to pick a new career because with this...” he jerks his head to the left implying his damaged half, ” neither racing nor piloting is an option for me anymore. I'm out of your project.”

Then he stops talking for a few seconds and raises an eyebrow curiously.

“You wouldn't have come here in person just to say that. Why are you really here?”

Swindle adjusts his glasses

“Have I ever told you why I made the contract with you?”

“Because you like money” Blurr says without hesitation.

Swindle lets out a quiet chuckle.

“Fair point. But money wasn't my only priority.”

He pauses for a second. Gets up. Draws the curtains in the room. Checks to make sure no one is outside the door.

Goes back to his seat.

“You didn't see what the Mecha project was like before. Brutality and absolute disregard for human rights multiplied by a thousand. People were desperate and no one cared to maintain any decency.”

He raises his hand when Blurr rushes to say something.

“No no, listen to me. If you think things are bad now, you're right. But it used to be much. Much, much worse.”

Swindle sighs and adjusts his glasses again

“Vortex was taken as a boy. He wasn't even out of high school when they shoved him into the lab. Me and Onslaught were pulled right out of the college exams. The others were no better, although they were usually a little older. My point is that it was allowed. It's what the superiors could do and no one told them no.”

Blurr tilts his head and gets a little all turned around to see Swindle better with his right eye.

“But you... found a way to change that, didn't you?

Swindle rubs the bridge of his nose

“I have no power over my own superiors. But Onslaught and I have come up with a plan. Look. I'll put it in simple terms for you. Above me is my boss, and above him is another boss, and so on but at the very end of that chain are people from the government. The investors. So we figured out a way to cut through the chain of command and influence them directly. Make them worry about us. It's a kind of social shield. Onslaught is a genius.”

Blurr blinks.

“Why are you telling me all this.”

Swindle takes off his hat and just. Crumples it in his hands. The back of his head shows numerous scars and the glint of tiny metal implants barely visible behind his hair.

“You're that shield right now, Blurr. You can't leave.”

Blurr's eye widens

“Is that why you insisted on ‘befriending’ me with all those bullshitters?”

“I needed to make sure that in their minds we weren't just a military unit. To keep them thinking that we're as human as they are. So I gave Project Mecha a face.” He tugs on the hat again, “Your face.”

Blurr runs his fingers through his hair

“Shockwave can't do whatever he wants cause...because of me his efforts would risk going public and people wouldn't like it and it would ruin the reputation of our investors-and-they'd-cut-off-his-funding.”

Swindle puts his hat back on.

“Exactly.’ That's why he's being so persistent right now. He knows you're vulnerable and he wants to capitalize on the opportunity. Make you part of his new project and tell the world about it. Make publicity his weapon, too.”

The lamp above them flickers faintly. Blurr takes a breath. Long and tired and exhausted and. a bit doomed.

Swindle puts a hand on his shoulder.

“Please. Don't leave. At least not now. And don't let Shockwave get to you. That would open the way for him to get to the rest of the pilots you represent.”

They just. Sit in silence for a while. Blurr quickly taps a finger on his knee. A rapid tap-tap-tap-tap-tap-tap-tap-tap-tap-tap.

Swindle moves his hand away and gets up from his chair.

“There's a press conference coming up. I need you to be there. I've told everyone who needs to know that the problem is exaggerated and you're fine but they need to see you.”

Blurr smiles sourly.

“My lawyer is going to charge you such a handsome sum for that stunt.”

Swindle laughs, but his cardboard advertising smile doesn't reach his eyes.

“We’ll see about that. Seriously though. I need you there.”

Blurr bites his lip.

“I..don’t know...”

Swerve...doesn't know what to think of that.

Blurr shows up for the press conference. Late, but he makes it. Just as Shockwave is presenting his new project in his amazingly well-pitched voice. Blurr swings the door open and waltzes lazily inside, skillfully pretending not to notice the many cameras and eyes instantly directed at him.

Swerve, whose memory is still fresh thinks for a second that no, no this can't be the same person. Past Blurr looked like a wreck. Past Blurr was tense and tired and hunched over. Present Blurr couldn't look more alive. His shoulders are squared proudly, there's that cheerful springiness and grace in his stride. He moves with ease and confidence. Smoothly.

The left side of his face is neatly covered with fresh white bandages. Carefully, without leaving the even the slightest gap through which his injury could be seen. His hands are hidden under a fancy jacket. He smiles wide and bright and squints playfully toward the table.

The very embodiment of nonchalance. The few pilots sitting in the audience roll their eyes.

Swindle breathes out a barely perceptible sigh of relief. Swerve, once again using Swindle's collar as a tactical cover, can't help but let out a silent triumphant laugh. Maybe slightly more nervous than he is supposed to be.

Blurr sends Swindle a sly, sharp smile and even knowing it wasn't meant for him, Swerve feels his cheeks heat up.

Ah, damn it.

Swerve breaks the rules. He tells himself that peeking is fraught with consequences when it comes to military organizations, but he can't stop himself from being curious. And from worry, too.

And now that he knows where to look, he sees things he'd rather not see.

Blurr ... is crumbling.

Swerve doesn't know all the details and consequences, but that incident did leave a mark.

But every time Swindle calls him and says “I need you at some place in two hours” he gets up and assembles himself into a human being. Like a goddamn puzzle. Tapes and covers the burned half of his face. Covers up the bruises and hides the stitches. Fixes his hair and sets off on shaky legs to pretend he's fine.

He smiles so bright and carefree, laughs so sweet and beautiful that no one would ever think that even standing up sometimes hurts.

And continues to act like a jerk of course.

The only difference is that this time Swerve mentally gives him the presumption of innocence before he starts judging.

Blurr does a lot of things that seem rude. He also does a lot of things that are actually rude and figuring them out without resorting to alien superpowers would be nearly impossible.

When the pilots see Blurr sitting right on the table while negotiating with investors, they roll their eyes and make comments about his terrible manners. Or when he stops showing up for even the most basic, rudimentary training.

Or when he develops that stupid habit of leaning his elbows on people standing next to him.

It's the model behavior of a rich, spoiled brat.

It's also an inconspicuous way to stay upright.

Employees say “that dumbass has never heard of personal space.”

Investors say, “I think he likes me.”

Blurr leans on Swindle's shoulder and through a charming smile says “Don't move or I'm gonna fall.”

Swindle also keeping up the smile discreetly holds him back, pretending it's a friendly half hug.

Swerve feels like yelling at both of them, but he's not sure what for exactly. For one thing, Blurr in his condition is very VERY VERY contraindicated to even get out of bed, let alone participate in social activities.

On the other hand, without Blurr, everything is going down the pit.

Without Blurr, all the government sees are dry reports and spreadsheets. Without him, all the high command has is numbers and a sense of impunity. Swerve is sickened by how easily people tend to forget that numbers represent other people.

Most pilots are able to draw a parallel between deteriorating working conditions and Blurr's sudden fondness for staying home instead of working. But they think the rich jerk got scared and ran away. Considering the way Blurr has always behaved at work - Swerve can't even judge them too much for it. They assume Shockwave getting more freedom is the cause of Blurr's absence, not the result.

Blurr's influence only becomes noticeable when it slowly starts to fade away. It's like switching from expensive tea to a cheaper one. The awful flavor only becomes noticeable in contrast.

Blurr doesn't lead the development of new technologies or go out to fight in the field. He doesn't make plans and reports, he doesn't participate in drills, he doesn't cover anyone's back in battle.

But he's the one who puts his hand on the government's shoulders when they're about to sign the next piece of paper. He's the one they have to look in the eye before they have a pen in their hands and a document authorizing Shockwave to stick more needles in people's brains.

It makes a difference. Small one. But still.

It turns a disembodied imaginary “combat units” into a tangible person.

From “do you want to accelerate the combat training of new soldiers” to “are you willing to tell the living, breathing guy standing in front of you that shoving poison under his skin is an idea you approve of.”

More importantly (And Swerve actually admires Swindle for this) Will you be able to explain anything to your families later on, when this same guy is on TV all over the country saying that's what you did to him?

There have been two fronts here all this time, Swerve realizes.

While the pilots were protecting people from monsters wearing teeth and armor, Blurr was protecting the pilots themselves from monsters wearing ties and lab coats.

After another conference, Shockwave stops Blurr in the hallway.

“Good show.”

Blurr laughs. Soundly and proudly.

“Thanks darling~ Sorry I interrupted you. Your speech sounded like something important, but I don't really know much about nerd stuff.”

Swerve, hiding on the ceiling again, snorts.

Shockwave doesn't move. Doesn't give any indication at all if he's offended or upset or whatever.

“It must have been hard getting here with your injuries.”

Blurr shrugs and lazily turns his head around distracted.

“It's just a few bruises here and there. Not the end of the world.”

Shockwave nods slowly. His voice and posture and all, Swerve thinks, looking very uncomfortable.

“Of course it isn't. But hardly good for your career.”

Blurr freezes.

No, Swerve thinks. Shit. No, don't listen to him, don't listen to him, don't listen to him, don't

“Your brilliant achievements have always been a source of admiration to me” continues Shockwave “it would be a pity to lose them.”

Blurr makes an indifferent face and tucks his hands into his pockets.

“Like I said. Not the end of the world.”

Swerve imagines choking Shockwave. Dropping a lamp on his head. Maybe jumping on top of him himself. Shut up, he thinks. Shut up, shut up, stop fucking talking.

Shockwave with a nice, slow gesture pulls out a notebook from somewhere and flips a couple pages.

“Multiple burns, cracked ribs, poisoning from carbon monoxide and combustion products of toxic chemicals...”

Blurr visibly shivers and looks away.

“...loss of vision on one side...” Shockwave continues reading, ”and partial hearing loss. Finally, the impact of neural link malfunctions. And this, if I'm not mistaken, is on top of the already existing memory problems?”

Shockwave takes a step closer. Not fast enough to make it look threatening, but enough to hover.

“It may not be the end of the world, but it is the end of you.”

He writes a set of numbers on the same page, tears it off, and hands it to Blurr.

“You are broken. I can fix you.”

Blurr frowns, but takes the piece of paper.

“That fixing would involve giving you consent to mess around with my head, wouldn't it? It's brave of you to think I'd go for that.”

Shockwave tucks the notepad into his pocket.

“I can assure you, neither I nor anyone else is interested in your brain. I just want to give you back what you're truly valued for.”

Blurr flinches.

“I don't need your help.”

“ If you say so,” Shockwave agrees easily. Nods, slowly and smoothly. Then starts to walk away “But you do need your fame.”

...

“By the way, you might want to wipe the blood off.”

Blurr waits until Shockwave's back disappears around the corner, then quickly pulls a tissue from his pocket and brings it up to his nose.

____________________________

Swerve wakes up looking up at the ceiling of his room. The high, metal ceiling, of a metal room on a metal spaceship.

Holy shit...

Jazz pokes him gently on the forearm

“Are you alive? You've been gone for like quite a while...Did it work?”

“Hey Jazz” frowns Swerve “what do you know about Blurr?”

Jazz laughs

“What are you fanboying over him again? Still??? Dude's smug and arrogant. Good boss though. I was hired to perform at his parties before I became a pilot.”

Swerve sits up and rubs the back of his head.

“Ah...”

“So it worked?”

“Wha...ah! Yes! Yes, it worked! I managed to get the number and codes from the space bridge the Quints used on you. We just need to find another space bridge and we'll have a pretty much direct route to Earth...well. Or rather, to the Quint ship that's located near Earth. You get the idea.”

Jazz rubs his hands together happily.

“I'll take it.”

Swerve jumps to the floor and heads to grab an energon cube. Man, these holoform exercises are burning energy like crazy.

He stares at his metal hands like an idiot for a couple minutes. Just...Contemplates how non-human they are.

He has eight fingers again instead of the human ten. Huh.

Prowl downloads the information he's gotten and immediately runs off to plan a route to the nearest working space bridge and for a while Swerve is just.

Left to himself.

He tries not to think about Blurr. What would he even say to him? Hey, look, I'm sorry I accidentally set you up, see, I'm actually an alien who was sleepwalking and thought you were fictional, surely this won't affect our non-existent strictly professional working relationship? Nah, screw that. If he's going to sound crazy, he needs to at least come up with a good presentation for his insanity.

....

Is it weird to think humans are beautiful if you're not human? If you're kind of human, but only in your soul and only half human?

He looks at Jazz and Prowl.

“You two get along really well.”

Jazz chuckles, sitting on Prowl's shoulder.

“Right now, yes. But we got on each other's nerves quite a bit when we first met.”

Swerve looks up at Jazz's chattering legs from his height and thinks. This is working somehow.

On the other hand, Jazz is the exception rather than the rule. He's friendly with everyone, he's easy to get along with, he's the soul of any company and most importantly, he was a little too much into robots before he discovered they could be alive. If anyone could find common ground with the Cybertronians, it would definitely be Jazz.

_____________________

”Are you a ghost?”

Swerve shrieks in fear and gets covered in static. He hadn't planned on talking. He hadn't planned on being noticed at all. Blurr was supposed to be asleep! And Swerve just wanted to close the curtains and leave, because there's some noisy party going on outside and bright illuminations are very bad for a patient already suffering from neural connection withdrawal.

He freezes in place like that dude from Jurassic Park. Like if he's still enough, he won't be noticed. Oh, or was that from another movie?

“I'm just uh” he awkwardly reaches up and closes the curtains “Lights. Bad for...you...now.”

Blurr chuckles. It sounds suspiciously joyful. His whole posture and facial expression. He looks very relaxed for someone who had a ghost materialize into the room out of thin air.

Swerve traces the line of the IV with his gaze in concentration. Oops, that looks like painkillers.

“Yes I am. Uh. A ghost watching the curtains. And now the curtains are fine, so I guess I'd better go?”

Blurr snorts and squints amusedly.

“You can walk through walls?”

“Uh, I can teleport into the next room?”

He backs up his words by making himself disappear and reappear in another corner of the room.

“Cool!” says Blurr cheerfully.

Swerve is involuntarily infected by his mood and makes a couple dramatic bows as if he were some kind of magician.

“ Show me more?”

“Hehehe okay eh” Swerve spreads his arms like he's presenting something and then makes himself the size of a soda bottle and teleports to the edge of Blurr's bed “Ta daaaa~”

“Wooooo look at you, you're like an action figure~”

Blurr immediately makes an attempt to touch him, but fails to reach and drops his hand back on the blanket.

Swerve chuckles and steps closer. It's funny to see the usually incredibly agile Blurr struggling with something so simple and ridiculous.

“They really drugged you huh?”

“It's not the drugs” snorts Blurr ”...it's my eye.”

He raises his hand once more and hesitantly pulls it towards Swerve until it bumps into his hair

“... depths Per…percen.. ah, shit. I can't tell how far away things are.”

Swerve just. Lets Blurr fidget at himself, while starting to feel really bad at the same time.

"If you can't tell how far things are, how are you going to drive?

Race???”

He must have a plan right? Something? Let’s-prove-Shockwave-wrong tactic???

Blurr drops his hands back on the blanket and snorts

“I won't.”

He freezes when the all too close fireworks rumble outside the window. Then points to his head.

“With this. I can't drive, I can barely walk at all, and I look like horror movie material. Pathetic heeh.”

Swerve sits down quietly cross-legged on the blanket.

“Well...at least you're alive....”

Blurr shakes his head.

“If I had died, it would have been epic. You know? Dharm...dramatic! It would be big news and everyone would be talking about what a hero I was or...or something...”

“...”

“Swindle would be so angry, but he'd figure out a way to make money out of it. He'd make a commercial about how people should be heroes. I'd be remn..remembered for being cool and brave and stuff.”

Fireworks can be heard from the street again. Swerve notices that there is a thin slit between the closed curtains through which a slim, flickering strip of multicolored light streams into the room.

Blurr frowns and leans back against the pillow, looking up at the ceiling.

“I've turned into a boring wreck. My records will be beaten, my career forgotten , and all the guys from work will remember me as a brat. In a--in a--in a way, it's worse than death. Shockwave's right.”

Swerve isn't sure what exactly would be an acceptable gesture of comfort, so he kind of just. Places his hand on the blanket covering Blurr's lap.

“Hey, don't say that. I think what you're doing is great.”

“Liar” smiles Blurr crookedly ”You hated me. I saw your posters collection.”

Oh shit. The ones he ripped off the walls and destroyed in a fit of fan frustration? He didn't even hide them, just shoved them in the back corner. Aw, man...

Swerve folds his arms awkwardly across his chest.

“I can be mad at you and think you're cool at the same time. I'm a multitasker.”

“You're a very specific kind of ghost.” says Blurr. Then, apparently inspired by the painkillers, decides to drop the conversational equivalent of an atomic bomb on Swerve's head “You died because of me?”

Swerve stiffens.

“I...Wwhat?”

“You know.” he makes a gesture with his hand that's ..unclear what it's supposed to mean. “You were working there with everyone else, and then there was that fire and I was sure I saw you down there under the rubble.”

He's silent for a couple seconds before he hesitantly continues

“And then no one could find you so most assumed you either burned or ran away. And now you're here with all your weird ghost stuff, so you must be dead.”

Swerve has.No idea what to think about it. And what to say? He's been so busy blaming himself for Blurr getting hurt that it hasn't occurred to him to think about what it looks like from Blurr's own perspective.

“Actually” says Swerve ”I'm an alien.”

“Heh” giggles Blurr ”sorry, my head’s all cloudy, I thought you said you were an alien.”

Swerve wants to run around and bang his head against the wall.

Instead, he gets up from the hospital bed. Carefully.

“You're high. I'm not going to explain things to you while you're high, you won't understand or remember them. Go back to sleep. It's the middle of the night.”

“You'll tell me later?”

Swerve hums quietly and pulls the curtains all the way closed.

“If future, sober Blurr would want my company.”

---------------

Jazz looks at him. Very intensely.

“Are you going to tell me who this mystery person you keep coming back to Earth for?”

Swerve snorts.

“What makes you think it's anyone in particular?”

“You're right, you're right~” raises his hands in surrender Jazz “So are you going to tell your friend the whole thing?”

Swerve crosses his ..metal arms over his metal chest.

“Is it that big of a deal? He thinks I'm a ghost or something.”

Being a ghost...somehow better, he thinks. If you're a ghost, it kind of automatically implies you're human. Or was a human.

“Sooner or later, he'll put the facts together~” says Jazz in a chant.

Swerve laughs.

“That's unlikely. He's got a pretty bad memory.”

_______________

His plans to stay out of anyone's sight combust with a dramatic pop the next time he projects himself to Earth. He doesn't plan to interfere, he doesn't even plan to linger. He just wants to see what's going on.

He actually just quietly sneaks into the hospital to make sure nothing's happened to Blurr since last time, but when he finally finds him then...oh shit, is that Pharma in the same room with him??? This can't be good.

They don't speak, but Pharma has clearly locked his eyes on Blurr and starts making his way towards him with the relentlessness of a industrial metal press.

Swerve does some rough math in his head. If he briefly gives his holoform back its detail and voice, will that be enough to fry his processor? He's not sure.

Pharma gives a believable impression of a shark getting close. The staff, as if sensing something untoward is about to happen, leaves the room in a hurry.

Blurr looks indifferent, but Swerve's attention is drawn to the way he squints tensely. Man, the lamps are too bright in here.

Pharma smiles sweetly and reaches out for a handshake

“Mind some company?”

Swerve's mental processes fly out the window. Oh no no. Not Pharma. Not in his fucking fanfic. He quickly changes his work clothes into a slightly more business-like looking shirt. Thinks for just a moment and adds a cap to his head to blend in more strongly with the attendants and hide his face to an extent. And then projects himself around the nearest unoccupied corner and runs out of behind it looking as anxious as he feels.

“Blurr!!! Sir, there you are!!! I've been looking everywhere for you!”

Pharma wants to say something, but Swerve doesn't even let him start. He stands in front of Blurr separating him and Farma expressively waves his hands trying to keep his head down.

“The guys you were talking about didn't bring the new hydraulics! It's a disaster, we'll have to use the one on the old models!”

Blurr, to his surprise, backs up his act almost instantly

“Really? But I thought there was nothing to take from the old models?”

“That's exactly the point! I got the paperwork this morning and...oh those assholes are going to screw it up if you don't step in as soon as possible!”

Pharma tilts his head

“Can it wait? We were actually talking here!”

Oh no, thinks Swerve I'll show you who's talking.

“Sir, no offense but this is a matter of extreme urgency. Are you implying that the safety of your patients is not important?”

“What do you mea...”

“Old faulty hydraulics, that's what you want?” raises an eyebrow in horror Blurr.

“No I'm just...”

“I had a better opinion of you, to be honest.”

“I...” opens his mouth Pharma “...WHAT...?”

Swerve shakes his head.

“And I thought his profession was to help people, can you imagine?”

“Wh..”

Blurr rolls his eye.

“Any idiot can get an important position these days.”

“Wait..”

“Tell me about it. Especially doctors.”

Pharma looks like he's about to start pulling the hair out of his head.

“Can at least one of you shut up??”

Swerve adjusts his cap in a businesslike manner

“Sir, I understand you're a bit detached from reality spending so much time in your department, but you need to take better care of your reputation.”

He raises his eyebrows knowingly

“Wouldn't want the rumors about you to turn out to be true. You know what I mean?”

Pharma doesn't even answer anymore. Pharma just looks like a discarded fish.

“…..Wha....there's rumors?”

“Of course” shrugs Swerve ”Ask Norman, he usually knows everything about everyone. And about your interesting tricks with safety, too.”

He leans in conspiratorially, effectively pulling all of Farma's attention to himself

“So if I were you, I'd stay out of any more things you don't understand.”

Pharma wants to say something. Swerve can tell by the look in his eyes. Pharma tries to come up with a witty and context-appropriate response, but this whole conversation has no more context than a typical episode of Teletubbies.

“Where does this Norman guy work?” finally finds the ground beneath his feet Pharma

Swerve shrugs.

“Block C, if he hasn't been transferred yet. He's already been fined several times for spreading harmful information you know? The guy can't keep a secret.”

Pharma throws his hands up angrily and storms away. Probably looking for context. Or revenge.

A quiet cough sounds behind Swerve's back.

“So. Should I be worried about Norman's health?”

Swerve feels the hair on the back of his neck stand up and slowly turns to face Blurr while still looking somewhere on the floor.

“Uh...only if you're concerned about the fate of fictional characters. I made up Norman's wife, she'll be upset if he gets fired for gossiping.”

Blurr chuckles. Then goes silent. Then, after a couple seconds, starts laughing again. That's a good look for him, Swerve thinks. It's not like Blurr's usual velvet-smooth laugh that he uses at social events. It's more like a quick, jerky giggle, and in Swerve's subjective opinion, it's pretty damn cute. He can't help but grin.

Blurr snorts one last time, cutting off the laughter.

Then he reaches out his hand to him.

Swerve reaches back, expecting a handshake, but Blurr ignores his hand and instead goes for his cap and lifts it by the brim.

Swerve, not expecting this, freezes with his hand outstretched.

Blurr freezes as well, still holding his cap in his hand and looking...like he's rethinking his life. A little.

Ugh, and how to explain it all to him....

“Uh...you...uh...probably don't remember me. I...it's...”

Blurr shifts his gaze from Swerve to the cap in his hand. Then back to Swerve.

“You're real???”

Swerve awkwardly waves his hands in front of him

“Ah not.., not really. Do you know why Pharma was looking for you in the first place? He doesn't work with patients anymore, he's been reassigned to the research department, right?”

Blurr shrugs.

“Last time I saw him, he said I might have implant rejection in the third ..uh..what? stage? or something? I think he's trying to get me in for a checkup.”

Swerve twitches.

“Third??? How are you still standing???”

He then quickly reaches up with both hands to Blurr's head and tilts it so he can see his face better. Using one thumb, he pulls his lower eyelid slightly and mentally catalogs. Temperature normal, pupil normal, eyes are steady, no darkening or trace of blood on the eyelid. Implants? He puts both palms up and gently feels the places behind Blurr's ears. No signs of rejection or malfunction.

“No no no” sighs Swerve ”You're fine, it's only stage two. I mean, second sucks too, migraines and all, but you just need to rest and no bright lights and...” he finally notices his hands are still on Blurr's head and pulls them back as fast as if he's been burned ”I MEAN I'm uh...sorry, I didn't mean to, I...”

Blurr laughs quietly.

“I'm glad you're back.”

_____________________

He wakes up in his quarters and can feel his face burning.

When he goes out to get the energon, Jazz throws him a look.

“Is something wrong? You're all kinda...shaky.”

“Hhhhhhuuuuuuuuuuuu” imitates signs of life Swerve “Say, doesn't it bother you that Prowl isn't human?”

Jazz smiles

“ Oh, I went crazy when I found out. But we figured it out.”

“Like...on a scale from ‘bad grade in school’ to ‘an asteroid is coming to Earth’ how crazy was it?”

“Worried about what your human friends will think?”

Swerve swings back and forth on his heels

“Pfffffffffffffffffffffffffffffff. Whatnooooo, no of course not. I'd be worried if I planned on telling them at all.”

Jazz frowns

“No offense, but keeping secrets isn't your strong suit.”

“Haha” Swerve waves his servo “ Watch me.”

#maccadam #tf mecha universe #blurr #Swerve #mecha writing #mecha kef writing #mecha bs writing #if you saw any mistakes - no you didn’t #it’s six am I need to go to bed but I wanted to post it before my brain shuts down completely #mecha pilot jazz au #jazzprowl #jazzprowl happens on the background lol #Swindle #two nano seconds of Vortex #Shockwave #Pharma

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cottonlemonade · 2 days ago

Text

A Shoulder To Lean On

word count: 1438 || avg. reading time: 6 mins.

pairing: university AU!Kita x chubby!Reader

genre: fluff

warning: mentions of academic pressure

request: Hi hi Sunny hope you're enjoying this last bit of the year! May I have breakfast with Kita sharing a 23 so we can study? Thank youu || fluffy, dealing with exam stress with crush Kita

You felt like you hadn’t slept properly in weeks but there was nothing to be done about it. You sighed when you hit sent on the assignment, well aware that you hadn’t even been close to the page count requirement but it was better to hand in something than nothing at all.

Rubbing your eyes you yawned and looked around at your roommate mumbling in her sleep.

It was almost midnight, way past your preferred bedtime. Your stomach growled, reminding you that the last thing you ate was a quick vending machine sandwich for lunch.

Opening the second drawer of your nightstand you found there wasn’t anything in the snack stash you were particularly tempted by. Usually, whenever you went to the grocery store lately you beelined to the prepared food section because all the exams and papers left you little to no time for such banal things as eating or sleeping.

The heavy snowfall from earlier had calmed significantly and only a few tiny flakes were carefully descending past your window.

After another moment’s thought, you got up and grabbed your jacket on the way out.

The streets surrounding the campus were quiet, with only a few people on their way home. But the closer you got to the main road and thus closer to restaurants and bars, supermarkets and convenience stores the busier the air became.

Laughter and music came from the brightly lit establishments with their Christmas-themed window displays. You could hear people cheering and toasting and singing as you walked past and tried to figure out what you were in the mood for. Not feeling like anything too elaborate or heavy your feet carried you to a convenience store, landing on a simple day-old onigiri and a cup of fruit to eat on your favorite bench by the library, hoping the icy fresh air would soothe the steady pounding in your temple soon.

You walked slowly, too tired and lost in thought to gather any energy.

The onigiri, while a tad dry, was delicious and the hot Christmas tea, purchased on impulse at the register, had you close your eyes in bliss. To no one’s surprise, the bench in question was empty. As you spaced out staring at the ground, you heard steady footsteps approaching from the warm glow of the library entrance.

Kita had recognized your soft shape instantly. Like most of the time you had been fresh on his mind, wondering if you took care of yourself, were skipping any meals, were maybe thinking about him, too, or smiling at someone else. Even though he would love nothing more than to ask you out to dinner, he respected that you didn’t want to date anyone for a while - a wish he had accidentally overheard while you were ahead of him in line at the cafeteria. And so he settled for being your friend; for now.

“Y/n?”

You looked up and watched him brush back the hood of his jacket, smiling gently.

“Oh hi.”

You gave a small bow and scooted a little to the side to make space for him. He sat down, making note of your drooping eyes.

“What are ya up to so late? If ya were in there, I didn’t see ya, I’m sorry.” He nodded towards the big imposing building that you hadn’t set foot in for weeks, too intimidated by all the students writing and reading and researching and having their life together.

Instead of answering you yawned and took a sleepy sip of tea.

“Did you finish all your assignments?”, you asked, your words slightly mumbled.

“Uhm, yeah.”, he said, a bit confused, and frowned even more when he saw you swaying a little forward.

Kita was afraid you would fall off the bench and thought frantically, his hand already raised.

Friends did this. He saw it all the time. It was no big deal.

And he carefully guided your lulling head to his shoulder.

His hand shook slightly, torn between patting your hair or retreating again to rest on his knees.

But that would look even more awkward, right? Friends could pat each other’s heads. He’d seen it in movies and TV shows.

For a moment his fingers hovered over you, then he set them on your hair.

No, this was too intimate.

He quickly moved to your shoulder, hoping you hadn’t noticed anything.

You sat like this for a little while, with him somewhere between tense panic and absolute calm, trying not to breathe too deeply or too much to not disturb you and to not lose track of his thoughts. Your steady breath formed little clouds in front of you.

“Ya should really get to bed.”, he said quietly, hating that he was right. He’d never been this close to you and found himself taking slightly deeper breaths when he got a whiff of your shampoo.

“Hm.”, you hummed, then sat back up, yawning again.

“I’ll walk ya.”

Neither of you was in a hurry as you slowly trudged through the soft layer of snow toward your dorm. After throwing out the wrappers and cup from your late dinner you felt a little better and Kita’s presence put you at ease. On a little wall along the pathway, you spotted a small group of tiny snowmen and jogged the few steps to examine them closer. “One second.”, you said to Kita when you grabbed a handful of snow and began forming your own. But instead of patiently waiting as you had expected him to, he leaned down as well to make a first ball. You smiled at him and for the next two minutes, you silently worked side by side to add to the local snowman population. You stepped back to take a look at your handiwork, Kita even took out his phone to take a picture of the two new members on the wall.

You sighed happily and were glad the cold gave you an excuse to have tears welling in your eyes.

“This is the first time I’ve done something for fun in weeks. I forgot what it was like to do something not for uni.”

Kita didn’t say anything, he just waited for you to continue.

“Academia is cool and all but dang, at what cost, you know? It snowed so much this winter already and I was dying to go outside and play but no, exams and more exams and studying, and oh- would you know it? More exams. And I love Christmas. But because of all this studying, I haven’t even had time to bake the sugar cookies my mom usually makes.” At this point you were just rambling, you couldn’t even see Kita next to you anymore and thought he had probably gone to gather more snow for a second snowman just so he didn’t have to listen to you. You yelped in surprise when something hit you in the back, well cushioned by your puffy jacket. When you turned around, you saw Kita lop another snowball in your direction, a small smile on his lips.

“Ya think, ya can take me?”

His heart leapt when your eyes brightened and you bent down to get your own ammunition. The careful game quickly escalated into an all-out war and you two ran around the white lawn near your dorm, laughing and calling out smack talk - yours quite a lot better than his - until you collapsed out of breath onto a small mountain of snow, moving your arms and legs up and down for a poor excuse of a snow angel on the trampled canvas. Kita appeared in your field of vision, beaming and holding his last snowball aloft.

You gasped. “You wouldn’t dare.”

“Wouldn’t I?”, he grinned with a mischievousness you’d rarely seen before.

In one swift motion, you shot up and grabbed the front of his jacket to pull him down with you, now looming over him with a handful of snow.

“Surrender!”

“Ye ye! I give up.” He actually giggled and you laid back again, satisfied with your win.

Even through the lights on campus, you could make out a few stars in the jet-black sky.

“Y/n.”, he said after a moment.

“Hm.”

“I know ya don’t feel like datin’ and I’m sorry to even bring it up but… would ya consider goin’ out with me sometime?”

Your head snapped to the side to look at him, trying to find any indication that he was joking.

“Are you serious?”

“Pretty serious, yea.”

You beamed and, pursing your lips to stop yourself from cheering, you looked back up to the stars, replying quietly, “I’d love to.”

a/n: request for @natdu

Any time I get to write for this man I can’t not make it as soft as possible. He is so fskfjsianahak, ya know? You get it. Thank you so much for this request, I hope you enjoyed it! 🌟

#sunnys university #kita x chubby reader #haikyuu x chubby reader #chubby reader #haikyuu fluff #haikyuu x reader #hq fluff #haikyuu x curvy reader #kita shinsuke x reader #shinsuke kita x reader #haikyuu kita #kita shinsuke #kita fluff #hq kita #kita x reader #kita imagine

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joongieology · 2 days ago

Text

Muse | Jung Wooyoung

Pairing: Artist!Boyfriend!WooyoungxReader

Genre: Fluff

Word Count: 1.2k

Warning: mention of naked body

Sypnosis: Your boyfriend has been busy with his gallery, leaving you missing him. One thing you didn't know though, he had a surprise waiting for you.

Note: This is the first ever fanfic I've written. English is not my first language so please bear with me. If you have any feedback, please let me know! I swear I tried ಥ⁠‿⁠ಥ

You've been dating Wooyoung for a few years now. Everything is well, better than you could ask for, but you wish you could move on to the next stage. You've always dreamt of getting married in a church since you were a little girl. Striving hard so you can save up for a grand wedding, wanting you and your future husband's day to be extra special. And now, you finally found the man you want to marry.

You met Wooyoung through your college friend, San. You went to get coffee at your usual hangout place—a café near the university—when you saw San with someone. You proceeded to where they were sitting and San invited you to sit with them.

That was the day you met Wooyoung, and that was also the day you started liking him. He was very chatty and he always made you laugh that you started to have a little crush on him. The three of you began to hang out more often, and then one day, he asked you out. You said yes, of course (who wouldn't), and you've been dating since then.

He had always been fond of art. Painting, photography, and even sculpting. He wanted to have his own gallery one day, to show off his works, and it is about to come true.

Wooyoung found a decent place where he could set up the gallery and renovate it to his liking. He was the one who worked on everything, claiming he wanted everything to be perfect. That meant, you don't see each other often because he got busy with his gallery. He never told anyone the location, not even you, which you found a little odd, but never questioned him.

You just finished eating when he showed you something on his phone. It's a map with a picture of what looks like the outside of a gallery.

"It's done. The grand opening will be tomorrow." He started, gauging for your reaction.

"Already?! Does anyone else know about this? What if I'm the only one who shows up?" You flooded him with questions, more nervous than he is.

"Don't worry, I already sent out invitations to friends and family." He said with a chuckle while piching your cheeks, clearly amused.

You sighed, relieved that you wouldn't be the only one to witness this. You want the world to see how talented your boyfriend is, and he worked hard for everything to get to this point. Even though he said this was just a small achievement, you were still so proud of him. He can finally show off his love for art.

"You're here." Wooyoung said as he leaned in to kiss you on the cheek. You came a bit earlier than the time of the opening so you could be by his side.

"Finally, you got your own gallery. I'm so proud of you, Woo." You gave him a peck on the lips, earning you a small genuine smile from him.

You straightened the collar of his button-up and fixed his hair a bit to make him look more presentable. He smiled at you but you noticed that he looked a bit nervous. You held his hand and squeezed it, comforting him. He intertwined your fingers and guided you to the entrance.

After a while, people started to arrive one by one, family and friends, and even some random people who had taken an interest in what was happening in this new place.

Everyone was in awe at the simple yet elegant interior. The walls were off-white and the art pieces were placed perfectly. Everything is in the right place, the way they were arranged was pleasing to the eyes.

You looked around and noticed that the art pieces consisted of pictures and paintings of places very familiar to you—they were places you've been together before. There are also pictures and paintings of events that have transpired in your life. The memories came flooding in as you looked at each art piece. You looked around once more, you noticed a black screen in the middle of the gallery. It's off, what is it for? You asked yourself but brushed it off. One thing stood out though, it was a pink door leading to a room. It had its own spotlight, it also had a name on top, just like every piece here.

"Y/N." You read out loud. Why did it have your name on it? Also, why is it pink, your favorite color? And why does it have the word 'Private' beside the door?

Wooyoung was greeting everyone and thanking them for congratulating him when he noticed you looking at the pink door. He walked over to you and put his hand on your lower back.

"Wanna see what's inside?"

"Yes." You responded, curious as to what could be inside.

He took out what seemed like a remote from his pocket and pressed something on it while guiding you inside.

There were at least five of what you assumed were art pieces covered in red velvet blankets.

He removed the cover of the one on the left, revealing a painting of you grinning from ear to ear, holding a pack of your favorite gummy bear, with the name beside it, 'The most beautiful v(you).' This must've been the time he brought you your favorite snacks, that made you all excited.

Then, he removed the cover on all of them except the one in the middle. There was a picture of you sleeping, a painting of you gazing at the stars, and a sculpture of you, as in you, in your wholeness, naked body.

"Oh my god, Woo." You said, your voice small, overwhelmed with joy, and love, and—everything.

"Do you like it?" He asked, nervousness obvious in his tone.

"I love it!" You exclaimed as you hugged him.

"There's one more." He ushered you to get closer to it. When he finally removed the cover, you covered your mouth in shock.

It was a sculpture of him, on one bended knee, holding a small black velvet box. Woo took the box and copied the stance of the sculpture.

"Y/N, will you make me the luckiest man and marry me?"

It's finally happening. The man you love is proposing to you.

"You've given me all I could ever ask for. Yes, baby, I will marry you." You utter with tears in your eyes.

He carefully puts the ring on your ring finger, and yes, he bought your dream ring, he still remembers it even when you mentioned it only once, he remembered, like he always did.

He hugged you so tight you thought you would burst, and whispered, "I love you so much, my love. Thank you for everything."

"I love you more, Woo."

You went out of the room and everyone's congratulating you both.

Huh?

When your eyes caught the now turned-on screen in the middle. So that was what the remote was for.

"Woo!" You hit his arms slightly. Terrified of the thought that they must have seen the pieces inside.

"It only showed us, don't worry, I won't ever show those pieces to anyone, especially that one." He chuckled while jokingly shielding himself from your playful hit.

"Finally, Woo, you prepared so long for this. Congratulations." San said with a big smile, holding a glass of wine.

"You knew?" You asked San with one eyebrow raised.

"Yup, everyone knew, except you." He uttered with slight amusement in his tone.

Wooyoung sure knew how to throw surprises because you didn't expect this one bit. But you're happy he did, cause this became one of the best days in your life. The thought of marrying this man made you giddy.

Your mom hugged you and gave you a kiss on the cheek.

"I'm quite curious to know what's inside that." Your mom said, pointing at the pink door.

You and your fiancé looked at each other with knowing eyes and a huge grin.

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d0rothydraws · 1 day ago

Text

Prompt 2: Holding hands because there's a crowd but not letting go when they get out of it.

It was the peak of holiday shopping. Linkon was flooded with people, traffic sucked, and lines were long. And here you were, right in the middle of it. You knew you should have done this sooner and not leave all of your shopping to a week before Christmas. You tell yourself you'll do better next year, this is probably the 6th year you've told yourself that.

You were on your third store. You had two bags in one hand already, not too heavy but you knew as things progressed you would more than likely be hurting tomorrow. You sighed softly, looking at the plushies on display. You needed a present for your work bestie, Tara. She had been mentioning these brand of plushies a lot lately but they were all so cute it was hard to decide.

You didn't know how long you had been standing at the display, juggling bags from hand to hand as you debated if you should get her the fuzzy blue penguin or the bright pink crocodile. Suddenly, you felt someone grab at your bags.

You suddenly get ripped out of your daze as your defenses kick in. Turning away from the supposed attacker you move the bags to your other hand away from the person while you put a arm up to defend yourself.

"Do you do this to everyone who tries to help you, Kitten?"

What the fuck was he doing at the mall?

You stared up at Sylus for a few moments, blinking before lowering your arm and your body slowly relaxing back into its normal state. He held his hand out for the bags and you slowly handed them to him.

"Do you always try to take peoples bags without saying hi first?" You finally replied back. He chuckled and shook his head, raising an eyebrow.

"Only when Kittens are distracted." He teased and you let out a slight laugh before looking back at the plushies. You could feel his eyes on you and then the plushies, almost could hear his mind working before he spoke again.

"The pink crocodile, its more rare."

You reached for the crocodile and then paused, blinking before looking at him. Clearly you weren't expecting him to know the market value of plushies but here you were. You shouldn't be surprised. You laughed slightly and picked up the plushie, hugging it close. It was very soft. It had a faint smell of strawberry. You didn't even know scented plushies were a thing. This must have been why it was rare. You were almost tempted to keep it for yourself.

Sylus chuckled and gently put a hand on your shoulder, guiding you away from the display before you lost track of yourself and demanded him buy every one of the plushies. Not that he would mind, but you were on a mission. You had to stay on task.

The store was busier now than it had been when you first entered. So much so it was practically just a crowd of people coming from every direction. You could see the sign of the checkout across the way, but at this point it looked like it was miles away.

Feeling your hesitation, suddenly you felt Sylus grab your hand gently but firmly. His fingers practically engulfed yours as he leaned in close to your ear.

"Don't let go. Stay close."

Suddenly you were in the thick of the crowd.

One hand clutching the strawberry scented pink alligator for dear life and the other wrapped in the strong warmth of Sylus' palm. People bumped into you, rushed past you, but he was a force to be reckoned with. Before you realized you were in line for checkout.

You let out a breath you didn't know you were holding, your shoulders relaxing. As you felt Sylus begin to let go of your hand you grabbed back on, curling your fingers together.

Your tone was playful as you looked up at him, seeing the crimson sparkle in his eye.

"You said don't let go, right?"

#love and deepspace #sylus #lads #love and deepspace sylus #lads sylus

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flwrkid14 · 1 day ago

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Jason Todd: Dad Mode Activated

There’s a new dynamic in the Batfamily, and nobody saw it coming. Jason Todd—Red Hood, former Robin, perennial black sheep of the Wayne family—has apparently decided that Tim Drake is his son. And no one, least of all Tim, knows what to do about it.

It starts subtly, if you can call Jason “subtle.” He starts showing up when Tim’s been too busy to eat, tossing him a burger or some takeout with a gruff, “Eat, Replacement.” He’s there when Tim’s working himself to the bone, slamming the laptop shut and growling about how his kid isn’t going to die of exhaustion on his watch. When Tim’s in over his head, Jason’s suddenly there, guns blazing, a protective shadow with a deadly smirk.

Tim’s confused. Very confused. Jason has always been... antagonistic, at best. But now he’s... scolding him? Encouraging him? Telling him he’s proud when Tim does something impressive? The man even started calling him “kid” instead of “Replacement,” which is somehow worse because it makes Tim feel all warm and fuzzy inside. What is happening?

Eventually, Tim asks. And Jason, in true Jason fashion, gives an explanation that doesn’t explain much at all.

“Look, Dick’s already treating Damian like his own kid, Bruce is busy helping Duke figure out his place in the family, Cass and Babs are practically attached at the hip—like sisters or something. And you?” Jason shrugs. “You’re my kid.”

Tim stares. “I’m your what?”

“My kid,” Jason repeats, as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “You’re smart, you’re resourceful, you’ve got my stubbornness—which, yeah, is annoying—and someone’s gotta make sure you don’t get yourself killed. Congrats, kid. You’ve been adopted.”

It doesn’t really explain anything, but Tim decides not to argue. After all, Jason’s kind of a good dad? He feeds Tim, checks in on him, teaches him things like how to hotwire a car (Tim already knows, but Jason’s so enthusiastic about it that Tim doesn’t have the heart to tell him). And Jason has his back in a way that feels steady, solid. Like he’s not going anywhere.

The thing is, Jason doesn’t stop there. He starts talking about Tim in ways that make Tim want to crawl under a rock. To Roy, to Kory, to anyone who’ll listen. “My kid’s a genius,” Jason brags, his voice filled with so much pride it makes Tim’s chest ache. “Runs a whole company and saves Gotham on the side. Kid’s got a brain the size of the Batcomputer.”

And it’s not just talk. Jason drags Tim along to meet-ups with other vigilantes or allies, casually introducing him like a proud dad at a PTA meeting. “This is Tim,” Jason says, grinning ear to ear. “My kid. Smartest of the bunch, don’t let anyone tell you otherwise.”

Tim flushes, stammering out an awkward, “Uh, hi,” while Jason beams like he’s just presented a Nobel Prize winner.

The height of Tim’s mortification comes when Jason introduces him to Talia—not as a fellow vigilante or even a respected ally, but as his son. Talia, who had become something of a mother figure to Jason after the Pit, is apparently now being roped into her new role as a grandmother. Jason insists it’s only right that she meet her “grandkid” and treat Tim accordingly. Tim, meanwhile, wants to disappear into the floor while Jason beams with unrestrained pride.

“Yeah, this is my boy,” Jason says, arms crossed, radiating smug pride. “Smart, resourceful, better than Bruce—don’t even try to deny it.”

Tim wants the floor to open up and swallow him. But he also can’t help feeling... warm. Embarrassed, yes, but also kind of happy. Jason’s over-the-top pride is ridiculous, but it’s genuine. It’s not something Tim’s used to—someone being proud of him just for being himself.

And of course, Jason’s newfound dad energy throws the rest of the family into chaos.

Bruce tries to scold Tim about something minor—maybe staying out too late on patrol—and Tim just raises an eyebrow. “I’m gonna tell my dad,” he says, completely deadpan. And then he does. Jason shows up at the Batcave later, tearing into Bruce about how his kid doesn’t need this kind of negativity in his life, and Bruce is left speechless.

Damian tries to insult Tim, calling him a weak link or some other scathing remark, and Tim smirks. “Careful, Damian. I’m your nephew now. Better watch your mouth, or Uncle Jason might have something to say about it.”

Even Dick’s thrown off by it. “Jay,” he says one day, watching Jason shove a plate of food at Tim with all the grace of a brick. “You do realize Tim isn’t actually your son, right?”

Jason glares at him. “He’s mine. I’m the dad here. You’ve got Demon Spawn, I’ve got Tim. Deal with it.”

Tim doesn’t understand how or why this happened, but honestly? He’s not complaining. Jason might not be the most conventional parent, but he’s a damn good one. And for Tim, who’s always felt a little lost in the shuffle of the chaotic Wayne family, having someone claim him so fiercely, so completely, feels... nice.

So yeah. Jason Todd: Red Hood, vigilante, crime lord, accidental dad. Who would’ve thought?

#tim drake #jason todd #batfam #jason adopts tim #imagine jason gets together with roy and they get to co-parent both their chaotic children together #tim and lian would get along like a house on fire #kory would be such a good aunt for the both of them #bruce gets whiplash from tim being his son to becoming his grandson #how did this happen?!#jason is a good dad #damian cant berate tim without getting into trouble with jason #dick is baffled by the new dynamic

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psychoticallykind · 1 day ago

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Jegumas Day Twenty-One - Mistletoe Kiss

1,197 words

@noblehouseofgay

--------------------------------------------------------------

Regulus

Regulus should have known it was a useless endeavor.

Useless, no matter how much he wanted to avoid this. Because when did Regulus ever get something he wanted?

It was stupid anyway. Stupid that he cared, stupid that he’d been trying all night to avoid the enchanted plants.

And really, this was the best case scenario, right? This was what people daydreamed about. He was stuck under enchanted mistletoe with his boyfriend. The perfect excuse to kiss someone he was already attracted to and knew he was safe with.

It was the best case scenario.

“Regulus, I need you to breathe, love.”

The words were quiet, appearing with a gentle pressure around his wrist as James tried to pull him out of his head.

“We don’t have to do anything,” James whispered, dark eyes wide and earnest. “It’s okay, Regulus. We’re okay.”

Regulus blinked away tears, trying to speak over the pounding in his chest. “It’s - the - it’s enchanted.”

It was an unnecessary statement - everyone at the party knew that the mistletoe was enchanted. Everyone. Including James and - though he’d been stupid enough to walk under it - Regulus.

And it wasn’t that Regulus didn’t love kissing James. It wasn’t - he loved kissing his boyfriend. He loved everything that he did with James.

In private. He loved all of those things - adored them, really - in private.

Not in a crowded common room where everyone could see them.

Regulus was going to throw up.

James

James tried to stay calm as he watched Regulus get even paler, eyes darting around the room. Thankfully, no one had really noticed them yet.

He’d been trying so hard to avoid this tonight. He knew Regulus better than he knew anyone, and he knew from the moment Mary had announced the mistletoe that he needed to keep Regulus out of that situation.

This situation, that is.

“Regulus,” he tried again. “Reg, hey. Look at me, love.”

Blue-grey eyes flickered to his for a second or two before squeezing shut as Regulus shook his head. His breathing stuttered for a moment, lips pressed together, and James had to take a deep breath to avoid panicking with him.

He traced a heart into Regulus’s palm, glancing up at the plant and mentally running through ways to undo the charm. He wouldn’t kiss Regulus like this. Not in a room full of people while his boyfriend was on the verge of a panic attack. He could never disrespect him like that.

But there was more than one way to kiss someone.

Ways that wouldn’t trigger Regulus’s anxiety any further. Not his lips, or his cheek - really anything on his face was out, James knew that.

“Hey, Reg?” James shifted his hand so that their fingers tangled together, gently squeezing. “I want to try something.”

Regulus’s eyes flew open, wide as he shook his head. “No - no, Jamie, I can’t - please, I’m sorry, not here please, I can’t -”

“I know,” James interrupted as gently as he could. He took Regulus’s other hand, adding light pressure. “Reg. Regulus.” He waited until Regulus met his eyes, keeping his tone even. “Do you trust me?”

Regulus

He couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think, couldn’t do this - this was wrong, it was wrong, people were watching, they were watching, he was wrong -

“Hey, Reg?”

Wrong, wrong, all wrong, they were watching, they could see him, they could see him.

“I want to try something.”

Terror washed through him, and suddenly the world was too bright again and Regulus said something but he wasn’t exactly sure what because he was terrified that James was going to do it anyway and everyone was going to see -

“Regulus.”

There was pressure, gentle and grounding, and a solid tone that broke through everything else for a second. Just a second, and Regulus was looking at James. His James.

“Do you trust me?”

“Yes,” Regulus replied without thinking, the word effortless and automatic. Of course he trusted James.

He blinked, the situation hitting him. “But - James, I can’t - they can -”

“They can see,” James finished for him. “I know. Do you trust me?”

Regulus nodded, not sure how that solved anything.

“Okay.” James smiled, soft and kind, and something in Regulus relaxed. He knew that smile. That smile was safe. James was safe. “I’m going to try something. I’ll go slow, okay?”

His heartbeat kicked up again, but Regulus forced himself to breathe as he nodded. This was James. James had never done anything to push his boundaries. He wasn’t going to now. “Okay.”

James lifted one of his hands, slowly, making sure Regulus understood what he was doing before he did it.

And Regulus did. Oh, he did, and he loved James so much for this.

Soft lips brushed against the back of his hand, and Regulus felt the magic holding them there dissipate.

James moved, tugging him to the side, away from the awful plant. Regulus took a deep breath. He was free. He was okay. No one was watching him.

“Want to go upstairs?” James offered.

Regulus nodded - a small, controlled thing. It had to be controlled. He was in control.

He was in control all the way until the door to the dorm room closed behind them, and then he didn’t need to be in control anymore.

James caught him as he collapsed against the other boy, humming softly. “It’s okay. We’re okay.”

Regulus nodded, gasping, inhaling pine and eucalyptus like it was oxygen and he’d been holding his breath. “So stupid,” he managed, curling his hands in the fabric of James’s shirt. “Sorry. Sorry. So stupid.”

“Not stupid,” James denied. “Not ever. We’ve talked about it, remember? We don’t do anything in public.”

“Because of me,” Regulus pointed out, slowly recovering and refusing to acknowledge the tears burning in his eyes. “Because I’m this stupid, broken mess who can’t handle it.”

“Because you have boundaries, just like me, and that’s one of them and that’s perfectly okay,” James reminded him, holding him tightly. “A mistletoe kiss doesn’t mean anything, Reg, it’s just a tradition. Just a thing that someone made up somewhere. It’s not important.”

Regulus just nodded, trying to breathe somewhat evenly as he came back from the heightened state he’d been in. The pressure of James’s arms and the familiar scent and warmth helped. So did the soft, even tone that James used as he continued to speak.

“I know that must have felt awful, getting stuck there and feeling trapped with all those people in the room. It’s valid, love. You’re valid and it’s okay to feel whatever you need to. I’m not upset. No one is upset with you, you did everything right. So brave for me, you know that? So perfect.”

“I’m not perfect,” Regulus mumbled.

James shook his head - Regulus could feel it. “You are. So perfect. My amazing, perfect Regulus.”

They stayed that way for a while until James urged him to lay down, and then it really wasn’t long before Regulus drifted off to sleep, surrounded by warmth and comfort and soft, earnest words.

#25daysofjegumas #jegulus #jegulus microfic #regulus black #james potter #marauders

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magics-neptunes-things · 1 day ago

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Mockingjay - Part 14 (Alternate ending)

Hey, it's me again!

So this is the happy ending. I have to admit that writing this one was way easier than the other one. I hope you will like it too :)

TW : Blood, mention of death and PTSD.

Chapter Before

As they both are talking and fighting, neither Ona nor Tony sees the shape of the person coming next to them. Panting, the silhouette takes some time to take their breath. The fight was hard, as expected. Both Lucy and Kayla come from career districts, they both learned how to fight during their childhood and were almost prepared for the Games.

“Lucy won’t let anything happen to me” Ona states confidently.

She’s sure about what she’s saying, everyone can see it in her eyes. Ona doesn’t blink when she looks at Tony, who seems almost amused by her.

“Do you think so? I don’t see her here for now” he laughs softly.

His laugh is empty, without any fun. He looks like a psychopath in Ona’s mind, but she thinks it’s maybe better not to push him further. He seems close to a mental breakdown.

His hand is shaking when he raises it, showing his sword near Ona’s throat. Ona flinches but doesn’t try to back off. She doesn’t want him to think that he has any power over her.

“I could kill you, right now. She wouldn’t be able to do anything against it.”

He seems so sure of himself, looking at her from above, his smirks talking for him. But Ona has never had so little respect for him since the beginning. The brunette doesn’t even want to fight against him, he’s here standing while she’s sitting on the ground. How can someone’s ego be like this?

“Do you really think so?”

Tony turns around to face the person who just talked and Ona jumps on her feet when she sees them. It’s Lucy. Tony just has time to turn around before being hit right in the face. He falls somewhere near Ona, making her fall back with him.

Ona groans when she hits her head on a tree root, right where she was already hurt. She tries to get away from Tony as fast as possible, but the boy is grabbing her legs for his dear life, trying to drag her to him. But he’s less strong with his arms than he was at the beginning, Ona hurt him there before, and she knows it.

She manages to kick him in the chin, making him go back. Ona goes back on all four, standing again when she thinks that she’s away enough from Tony. He’s bleeding from his mouth and Ona deduces that he might have bitten his tongue.

Just when he was going to jump on Ona, Lucy grabs him by the collar of his jacket.

“Don’t even think about it” she groans, pushing him away.

Lucy is smaller, but Ona has to say that with her anger and the hammer in her hand… She looks impressive. Her green eyes stay on Tony, even when she throws the bow and the arrows at Ona.

But Tony just sneers, arming his hand and his sword before talking again.

“I don’t have any problem to kill you before killing her”

“Aren’t you sick of hearing you?” Lucy snaps.

Ona sees Tony’s face becoming darker, clearly not liking Lucy’s comment. Ona can’t help but smile at Lucy’s comment, the sarcasm of the girl always making her smile. She takes advantage of this little moment to have a better look at her girlfriend. She has blood on her body but doesn’t really seem hurt. She has some cuts on her arms, but nothing seems really bad.

“I’m sick of you” he answers.

Lucy snorts this time, waiting for him to attack first. He’s turning his back to Ona and the younger girl wonders if she should take advantage of it, but it seems to her that Lucy wants to defeat Tony alone. She has something to deal with, beginning with the fact that Tony seems to want what is hers.

The fight starts and is maybe not really fair, Tony has a sword which is longer than Lucy’s hammer, in addition to the fact that he’s bigger and then has bigger movements. But Lucy still manages to hit him several times, using her smaller form to move faster than him.

That was until…

“Wolves!”

Ona scream is a little bit ignored by the two others to be honest, until Lucy spots the urgence in Ona’s voice when she talks again.

“Lucy! Wolves!”

Lucy turns to the direction Ona is pointing, before groaning when Tony takes advantage of it to hit her on the arm. Lucy groans in pain and almost throws her hammer on Tony’s face, helped by the rush of adrenaline.

Just like Ona, she saw the four wolves walking in their direction, in the form of a diamond. They are white and she would probably have found them beautiful if they weren’t explicitly looking for their next meal.

Ona is fully concentrated on the animals, forgetting Tony for several seconds.

Wrong move.

The boy, seeing Ona not far from him, raises his sword once again and hits her right in her stomach. The pain is so intense that Ona isn’t able to say anything. It’s Lucy who screams something that the brunette isn’t able to understand.

She feels someone grabbing her and holding her protectively against their breast, before the person starts to run. Ona doesn’t need a lot of time to recognize Lucy.

“It’s okay, you will be okay” Lucy keeps saying.

Ona doesn’t really understand what is happening when she feels herself being shaken. But she trusts Lucy and if she says that she will be okay, she knows that she will be. It’s only the sound of the canon who makes her open her eyes again.

Her vision is gloomy, but she still can see Lucy’s face right above her very clearly.

“Is he…” she whispers.

“Dead. The wolves…”

Lucy stops her sentence, but she doesn’t have to talk more for Ona to understand. She’s glad that the animals chose the one of the three who will give them the most fresh meat.

“I’m so cold” Ona whispers again.

And it looks like it’s starting to rain. She feels one or two drops of water on her face, seeming strangely hot against her cold skin. But when she looks at Lucy again, she understands. It’s not raining. Lucy is crying.

“I’m dying”

She can only whisper for now, her strength just not here anymore. Lucy shakes her head, but Ona isn’t sure if it’s because she’s answering her that she isn’t, or if Lucy just couldn’t stand the idea.

“It’s okay” Ona whispers. “We are going to be okay”

She concentrates all of her strength to raise her hand and softly strokes Lucy’s face. Lucy kisses her palm softly before pressing her forehead against Ona.

“Remember when I said I couldn’t live somewhere where you aren’t?”

“Yes” Ona breathes softly. “But you promised…”

“I never promised anything” Lucy shakes her head. “We live together, or we die together”

Ona looks at Lucy for several seconds, before nodding softly. She understands. She couldn’t live in a world where Lucy isn’t here either. It must be harder for Lucy; Lucy doesn’t have her family or any friends outside the arena.

“What do you have in mind?” Ona whispers.

“We can jump. Where Teagan…”

Lucy doesn’t finish her sentence, but Ona understands easily. After thinking for some more seconds, Ona nods again.

“I don’t know if I could walk, it’s a little far from here”

“I’ll carry you”

They can’t hear the wolves anymore, but there is no doubt that they are busy with whatever they are doing now. It doesn’t really matter anyway. Very carefully, Lucy picks Ona from the ground to carry her like a just married couple. It makes Ona smile softly, passing her arms around Lucy’s neck.

“I love you” Ona whispers, her face in Lucy’s neck.

“I love you too. So much.”

They stay silent during the walk, Lucy walking slowly. She’s exhausted to be honest and now they know how they will end. Together. They don’t need to rush anything.

“What are you thinking about?” Lucy asks after some minutes.

“My parents. My brother… Aitana, too”

“Do you think they will be together?”

“They better be together already”

Lucy chuckles before kissing softly Ona’s temple. Her mind goes to her family too, wondering what they are thinking about her right now. They probably aren’t proud of her, but she doesn’t care anymore.

Seeming to be able to read in her mind, Ona talks again.

“I’m proud of you, you know?” she whispers.

Lucy hums at first before looking at Ona. The younger one was already looking at her, her chocolate eyes so soft and full of love.

“I’m proud of you too” Lucy says back. “And I’m sure that your parents and the people you love are proud too. Alexia must be really proud too. You kind of win the Games after all.”

“No” Ona shakes her head. “You’re the real winner.”

Lucy rolls her eyes as they get out of the forest. They pass the starting point, Ona looking at the scoreboard. It’s strange to see that only their names are on it now. Lucy killed the most people between them both, but it doesn’t mean anything now. It isn’t important anymore.

“Are you in pain?”

Ona shakes her head once again at Lucy’s question. She feels good and almost safe in Lucy’s arms.

“I always feel better in your arms”

“You don’t need to try to charm me, you know? I’ve been in love with you for a long time already.”

“I’m not trying” Ona mumbles sleepily. “Just telling the truth.”

She takes advantage of being carried by Lucy to look around her, admiring the view for the first time. Before, she was too concentrated on the Games to find something beautiful. She remembers perfectly the building in the north of the arena, giving her a sweet feeling of being back home.

“Don’t fall asleep now, Love. We’re almost there.”

Lucy’s voice kind of wakes Ona up. She opens her eyes with difficulty, but looking at Lucy is enough to help her stay awake.

Lucy was right though, several minutes later, they were standing next to the cliff. Ona’s isn’t sure that it’s exactly where Seth tried to kill her, but the idea is here.

“Are you sure?” Lucy asks one last time.

“More than ever. You?”

“More than ever.”

Lucy smiles softly, looking at Ona with the most tender gaze ever. It makes Ona harder to breathe, and it has nothing to do with her bleeding wound.

“One last kiss?” Ona asks.

Lucy doesn’t even answer, she just softly puts her lips on Ona’s. She couldn’t say how many times they had kissed each other, but it’s still the same feeling. And she loves it.

“At three?” Lucy asks softly.

Ona nods and takes a deep breath. She’s tempted to have a look below, but she chooses to look at Lucy instead. She holds Lucy harder when the other girl starts to count, wanting to be against her as long as possible.

“One”

Lucy takes a few small steps, coming closer to the end of the cliff. Ona can hear the water near them, a sound that she finds almost soothing.

“Two”

Ona keeps looking at Lucy. Her green eyes, her freckles, even if Lucy has way less than her. Lucy is looking at her too, smiling softly. But, just before Lucy says “three”, a deep voice suddenly resonates in the arena.

“NO! STOP!”

********

Awakened by the sun coming right into her eyes, Lucy sits down suddenly in her bed, looking around her, a little lost. The dream she just had is one that she still makes from time to time. But it’s vivid, so real that it catches her every time.

“Ona?”

Next to her the bed is empty, no trace of someone alive there. It makes her heart beat faster and she doesn’t like this feeling.

“Ona?” Lucy calls again, harder this time.

She almost trips in the sheets of her bed when she gets up, and she arrives at the door at the same time as the door is open.

“Ona” Lucy sighs, before taking the younger girl in her arms.

Ona is here, seeming a little surprised by Lucy’s neediness at first before understanding that Lucy probably just had a nightmare. It happens to her too from time to time. Ona passes her arms around Lucy’s, stroking her back with her fingertips.

“You’re here” Lucy mumbles with her face hidden in Ona’s neck.

“I am here” Ona answer softly

They stay like this for a moment, Ona not wanting to break the hug. She feels that Lucy needs it, and she would never refuse a hug or a kiss to Lucy.

“Did you have a nightmare?” Ona asks with empathy.

Lucy only nods, her face still in Ona's neck. Her hairs are tickling the younger one, who has trouble not to laugh about it.

“What can I do for you?”

“Cuddles”

Lucy doesn’t really leave any choice to Ona, grabbing her from the ground to put her on her shoulder until they reach the bed. Then, she throws Ona on it before crawling on the bed too and laying on Ona.

“It’s okay, Baby” Ona says softly, playing with Lucy’s hair.

But Lucy only hums, her fingers following Ona’s scare on her stomach. She still can’t believe their luck sometimes. The organisers let them alive, the two of them. It provoked a lot of trouble for those men, but the fact’s still here. Lucy and Ona are still very alive.

They live together now, in District 8. Lucy went back to her family at first, they needed an answer from the Capitol for their request to live together. They could live in the Capitol, but it was very clear from the beginning that they will go near Ona’s family.

Everything isn’t perfect, to be honest. Lucy still has nightmares, Ona still jumps when she hears a big noise and has sometimes panic attacks too. They are both scared that someone would separate them at some point. Lucy dreams sometimes to run away, but there is nowhere to go. They are way safer here, in the house they built in District 8.

“Alexia’s pregnant” Ona says softly.

“What?”

Lucy raises her head suddenly, looking at her girlfriend with surprise paint on her face. Ona smiles, cupping tenderly Lucy’s cheek.

“Alexia is pregnant. She just told me in the letter I received this morning. The baby is due to spring”

“Pregnant” Lucy whispers, like she never heard of pregnancy before. “Is it a boy or a girl?”

“They don’t know. They want to keep the surprise”

Lucy hums again, looking at Ona’s stomach thoughtfully. They left the arena four years ago and Joan already had a little girl last year. Lucy knows that she told Ona that she doesn’t want a baby, when they were in the Capitol. But right now, she has to admit that she wouldn’t be against that idea. But for that they have to go to the Capitol.

“Maybe we will have one baby too, someday” Lucy says carefully.

She doesn’t miss Ona’s surprised gaze at her. But Ona’s surprise quickly changes to a soft smile, before she grabs her face with her other hand to take her higher to be able to kiss her.

Lucy kisses her back, before kissing her cheek.

“But first I want to marry you” she says against Ona’s skin.

“You know that I’m already yours. All you have to do is ask”

It was true, she was only waiting for Lucy to propose. The dark-haired woman made clear really quickly that she wanted to be the one who would propose to the other. Ona doesn’t mind at all to be honest; she knows how much it means for Lucy.

And she will do so, several months later, after having asked Ona’s father if he would give them his blessing. She will ask Ona in their garden, during one of what they now call “stargazing session”. Of course, Ona’s answer will be yes.

And when they will welcome their little miracle almost three years after the wedding, Lucy knows that her life couldn’t be more perfect.

Perfect life, with her perfect wife whose surname she took. And now their perfect little boy, almost a clone of Ona, with his perfect name.

Jordi Teagan Batlle.

Sad Ending

#woso imagine #woso fanfics #ona batlle #ona batlle imagine #lucy bronze #ona batlle x lucy bronze #lucy and ona #lucy bronze x ona batlle #ona and lucy #lucy bronze imagine #woso x hunger games

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thewistlingbadger · 6 hours ago

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Adding onto this. Silco is probably THE definition of "it's not always about the money spiderman." I hate the take that he's only doing things for his own self interest because it so violently goes against what we're told about him. If Silco was truly in it for the personal power, money, influence, etc, he could and WOULD have stopped a long time ago. If it's just about ego then he doesn't need Zaun to become independent. If he only cared about zaun independence for his own glory and not for his own people then he'd be no better than the chem barons, and we see how Silco views them as parasites who are beneath Silco. Silco loves Zaun for what it is, which is why his vision of a better Zaun is not a Zaun with peace, it's a Zaun with freedom. Silco sees nothing wrong with the under city's chaos and violence, which is why he perpetuates both and doesn't try to stop either. This contrasts Vi, who as a child viewed Zaun as being inferior to Piltover. This contrasts Ekko, who actively tries to improve upon the Undercity. Silco is devoted to his nation not in spite of its flaws but because of its flaws. To him, it's perfect as is, the only problem is that they're oppressed. Silco already views Zaun and Piltover as equals even though they don't have equal power or influence or ability. To him, Zaun is just as good and potentially better than Piltover. All they need is a chance to excel, the opportunity to rise above the hardships that they wouldn't have if not for Piltover. Silco's okay with putting down and harming individual zaunites if it means the collective group will be better off. It's why he sees no problem with shimmer, because even though it's actively destroying the community, it's boosting their economy and furthering themselves from Piltover.

Silco's hatred for topside really can't be understated. It's important to remember that his generation grew up in a much worse zaun. Of course he's willing to use any means necessary to be free from those assholes, especially after all he's sacrificed and the sacrifices of others he's witnessed. Silco seems to really admire his generation for all the shit they had to put up with. He tells Finn before zaun became an enterprise all they had was the loyalty of zaunite brothers and sisters helping each other. "And now I'm forced to share the air with parasites like you who leech off their memory." Personally, in light of season 2, this line makes extra sense because of Felicia. Felicia was one of Silco's closest friends and she laid down her life fighting for the cause ("so you'll die for a cause, but you won't fight for one?!" Now this line makes more sense too), she's the perfect example of a true Zaunite. Silco also used the gray against the chem barons to not only highlight his superiority to them but also to once again differentiate between his generation and the newer generation.

"Oh, you don't recognize it? Have you forgotten where we came from? The mines they had us in? Air so thick it clogged your throat, stuck in your eyes? I pulled you all from the depths and offered you a taste of topside and fresh air. I gave you life. Purpose. But now you've grown fat and complacent. Too much time in the sun. We came from a world where there was never enough to go around, Finn. That is why we fight."

Yes silco does have his own ego and he is doing things for his own selfish interests but he's not doing things ONLY for himself. His own selfishness is truly not his priority, it's the nation of zaun. "I'm doing this for us, Jinx. For the sons and daughters of Zaun."

I don't see Silco as someone who "lost his way" bc there's no evidence to suggest that this wasn't always his way. We know that he wasn't once always this fucked up and evil but from my perspective he's always been the radicalist. He's always been the one behind the Nation of Zaun, the one that's always been willing to do anything to get his goal. Not even the death of Felicia stopped him or even gave him any pause from pursuing his goal. And of course it didn't, Felicia is the one that told him "I don't care if you have to carve it out of the bedrock covered in blisters." Additionally, silco does just see himself as better than the chem barons, he sees himself as better than most zaunites too. Silco has literally gone through hell and back and is now the most powerful man in the undercity. If he can do that, then what's other people's excuse? Of course he's toying with the drug addicts, to him they're the weakest link in the zaunite societal chain. He's literally standing above them as they're at his feet. The fact that some of these drug addicts where Vander supporters also plays into I think (we know at least Huck had a past with Vander). Another reason why I think he sees himself as superior is because he's basically the only person actively trying to get independence. When Vander was their leader, all he cared about was maintaining the status quo. We know some maybe most of Silco's supporters initially joined him because of his promises of Independence and rebellion but we see after the time skip most of them become washed up and no longer care for the goal. The Firelights also don't seem to care about zaun independence either. They're anti silco and anti Piltover and their main goal is rehabilitating the community.

When Silco died, so did the nation of zaun- that idea, that ideology. NO ONE tries to achieve independence after his death. The zaunites start to rally against piltover because of the new oppressive conditions they're being subjected to, not because they're trying to achieve independence. The Firelights I've been trying to get rid of him since day one and what do they do when he's actually gone? Nothing, they don't make a single play for power in the Undercity. The fact that sevika ends up becoming a council member implies that Zaun is still a state under piltover and not its own nation.

Oh yeah I forgot that there's this opinion that Silco "was blindsided by power and wealth" and "lost his way" and "he only did what he did to benefit himself all along" etc etc. Uh. Where- where did you get that from? I'm not even being sarcastic or something, I'm genuinely curious how you can come to this conclusion.

He operates from a crappy office in The Last Drop and the only attributes of wealth he has are cigars and whiskey(?). My man had one pair of pants for 10+ years and only got a fancy coat to look more intimidating. Besides, when chembarons proposed to give back the gemstone to Piltover so their sales don't drop even harder Silco refused. Also he was ready to give up his power when Jayce made imprisoning Jinx a requirement for Zaun to gain independence. Sure, he IS motivated to keep his daughter safe, but it would also mean that his goal will finally be achieved, so there's nothing left for him to do. Both wealth and power are only means to achieve a goal to him. He also doesn't really display that he gets the kick out of it, unlike councilors in Piltover.

"Well yes he wants Zaun to be independent, but only as he personally sees it" when did he EVER say that??😭😭😭😭 Every time he speaks on the topic he only mentions how he wants Zaunites to have opportunities, respect, "more than (Piltover's) runoff". Like- that's literally everything he ever said about this. All that matters to him is independence, he couldn't care less about everything else.

As to "losing his way"...idk I think this can only be attributed to pre-drowning Silco. Because after it he pretty much decided to stick to what he now believed in forever, and at no point except the finale he went south from his beliefs.

Silco isn't "misguided" or "corrupt" or any other similar definition. He's a character who chose to become a monster to bring change to his people. And as s2 didn't do anything about resolving this conflict, he was never really proven wrong.

#mic does analysis

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koalapastries-writes · 2 days ago

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okay which drivers do you think would want to come out as a couple and which ones would you have to ask to come out as a couple?

also congrats on 250!!! so proud of you ❤️

thank you milo <3333

this one's interesting because i could kinda see a lot of them in either category but here's my current thoughts:

warnings: suggestive content (lando, kimi a, rbr + ferrari!seb), mentions of affectionate bullying (lando), mentions of having kids (am + retired!seb, kimi r), mentions of marriage (am + retired!seb, jenson), mentions of joke flirting with someone else (ollie), mentions of violence (logan), mild angst (kimi a, logan), autistic!oscar bc i said so

asks you to go public:

alex albon:

something you will notice about when i write alex is that he is just a goofy guy

like he'd ask to go public but only because he's either a) already accidentally revealed the relationship or b) wanting to post goofy boyfriend photos of you

if it's the first one he's got a back-up "i'm sorry" gift in case you're not exactly ready

if it's the second one he's already got a post drafted and you better believe he will post it the SECOND he gets approval

he's silly and bad at keeping it a secret but he'll try his best for you

franco colapinto:

yappatron 6000

he's probably already told the whole grid and every mechanic who would listen to him for more than five seconds

knows it's only a matter of time before he starts talking about you in interviews

definitely the type to forget that he's famous

his family knows, lewis hamilton congratulated him on being a (sort of) out F1 driver ... everyone else can just find out randomly as far as he's concerned

mick schumacher:

wants to post all the couples pictures he has of you two

how can you possibly say no to this golden retriever?

it's impossible

you hard launch ten minutes later

lando norris:

so i don't usually write for lando but i do sometimes so 🤷‍♂️

would probably ask to go public just to prove that he actually can get a date (he doesn't like to talk about his instagram attempts)

it backfires immediately

now instead of being teased for being single he's being teased for being whipped

tells everyone you asked him to go public and then forgets to turn his mic off while streaming and accidentally reveals that he literally begged you

needless to say, his friends refuse to let him live it down

charles leclerc:

ok listen he's a pretty boy and he wants to be shown off

he wants to follow you around and be your arm candy

will get very very pouty if you hesitate or refuse

he'll understand, but he will be pouty until you either kiss him, cuddle him, or agree to go public

when you're out he's just a happy little bunny wandering around the paddock and abandoning his team responsibilities if he sees you

(ferrari tries to ban you from the paddock, charles cries until they give in)

aston martin + retired era sebastian vettel:

if he can't win races he wants to make it VERY clear that all his flirting over the year was just for funsies

like with his whole cool mature twink-death phase, he brings up the idea of settling down

you're not impressed

"sebastian we have three kids. if you still think this is 'casual' i don't know what to tell you."

... he does sleep on the couch for a couple nights

eventually he will convince you tho and you'll go to your first race with the whole paddock knowing you're his husband and not just his Really Close Friend Who He Happened To Touch A Lot.

ollie bearman:

i know this is kinda contradictory to the crossdressing post but i think ollie would bring up coming out before you?

like, prema knows, haas knows, ferrari knows, his family knows ... he knows he's pretty secure

does joke about bearnelli with you

which results in you (jokingly) flirting with dino or arthur and a very whiny baby bear

probably wouldn't want to do it until after / part way through his rookie season

just so he's a little more settled yk?

you ask to go public:

jenson button:

this one might be a lil controversial

i think jenson would actually to prefer to stay private for longer?

like, he won't tell anyone when you're dating

but the second you're married he's like

EVERYONE LOOK AT MY HUSBAND HE'S SO HOT

sky tries to reprimand him and jenson shows up to the next race with one of those "i ❤️ my husband" t-shirts and rainbow trousers

he looks like a dork but it's okay because he's cute

kimi antonelli:

absolutely adores you and talks about you at prema all the time

talks about you at mercedes all the time

george already knows your shoe size (among other things)

but the idea of going public and everyone knowing he has a boyfriend? absolutely terrifying

he kinda just posts the same sorts of things he posts with ollie and hopes everyone will assume you're just a friend

you're fine with it, because you know you're always the one he runs to for celebratory kisses after a win :)

kimi raikkonen:

shouldn't be surprising

he's not actively hiding you or actively trying to tell people

he just ... doesn't really talk about his personal life?

some of the drivers know, some don't

he's 100% been wearing a wedding/promise/whatever ring for years and nobody notices

there's a chance nobody knows he's ever dated anyone until your kid starts karting and he posts a video of the kid everyone thought was just his calling you dad and the internet explodes

lance stroll:

would rather die than have journalists asking you invasive questions

everyone knows he's dating someone but nobody knows who

lawsuits + bribes to any tabloids who get photos of you

insists on getting you a bodyguard if you ever come out

you try to get his dad to reason with him

lawrence thinks lance could be worse

overall, billionaire boyfriend just wants to cuddle at home and will do anything to protect that

10/10 very cute and whiny when he realises that means you can't go with him to Official F1 Business™ things

logan sargeant:

might've been half-out in the junior formulae?

like kind of an open secret in the paddock but he doesn't post about it

then he gets promoted to f1

at first he's super excited because he knows you get along really well with lily (alex's gf) and with all the talk of williams being a family, hopes you'll get to do normal wag/hab stuff with her

then things go downhill

logan absolutely refuses to let you anywhere near williams

half out of fear that somebody would say something rude to you

half out of fear that you'd light v*wles on fire if you got close enough

oscar piastri:

this man is Oblivious with a capital "O"

he tries his best really but he just. doesn't pick up on cues like that.

(yes this is me pushing my autistic!oscar agenda idc i'm autistic i'm allowed to say it)

has a massive folder of cute photos that either include you or remind him of you

it takes up about a quarter of his phone's storage

he refuses to delete any of them

still keeps it pretty private if you do ask to go public

he likes that he can just be oscar with you

he doesn't want the media taking that away from him

will only delete some of his photos when they're copied onto two separate usb's that are both in fireproof safes (one in his apartment in monaco, one in his childhood home in melbourne)

rbr + ferrari era sebastian vettel:

i recently saw this era described as feral twink energy and. yeah.

he's flirting with anything in the paddock that has a pulse

fans? yes.

journalists? yes.

drivers? yes.

team members? yes.

fia officials? yes.

EVERYBODY

eventually you'll ask if he could just please mention that he is, in fact, taken and (here's where it depends on if you're dom/sub) either make you beg or push you to the point of fucking it out of him

if anyone saw one of you limping in the paddock one day?

no they didn't.

this was fun, i definitely enjoy going deeper into what i think the drivers would be like in relationships :D

#vinnie's 250 #formula 1 x male reader #alex albon x male reader #charles leclerc x male reader #franco colapinto x male reader #jenson button x male reader #kimi antonelli x male reader #kimi raikkonen x male reader #lance stroll x male reader #logan sargeant x male reader #mick schumacher x male reader #ollie bearman x male reader #oscar piastri x male reader #sebastian vettel x male reader

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atleastpleasetelephone · 2 days ago

Text

Little Darling

Chapter 9 - Made a promise to be kept

It's 1997, and Elvis is still alive and well. He quit music in 1972 after a successful world tour, and now he runs Presley Studios - teaching people karate across America. His daughter and grandchildren are regular visitors at Graceland, and when he’s in Memphis he likes to do a little teaching. His life is quieter now, though. Most of the Mafia have gone - going to live their own lives - and after his divorce from his second wife, Elvis is sworn off women for good. Will a Welsh girl with a wicked sense of humour be the one to make him break his promise to himself not to fall in love again?

Need to catch up? Go here.

Pairing: Old Man!Elvis x OC - Tegan, a Welsh girl he meets at karate.

Word count: 3.2K

TWs: Illness, self-esteem issues, discussion of spanking, handjob/masturbation, voyeurism, suggestion of ass play, possessive kink.

Tegan spends the day at work feeling gradually more and more ill, so she decides to pick up a few things on her way home in case she can’t get out to get them the next day. It’s probably just a cold she picked up from the kids at the weekend, but she doesn’t want to have to drag herself out of bed and look for cough medicine if it’s worse than that. As she gets out of the car she suddenly remembers that Elvis basically lives in her apartment right now, and she could send him out to get things. Part of her wonders what on earth he’d come back with, but she also realises she’s been on her own for so long she’s forgotten what it’s like to rely on someone else.

Elvis fusses her and tries to insist on her resting, but she’s too worried about what kind of dinner he’ll cook without her help, so she tells him she doesn’t feel that bad. And she doesn’t, not really. Not until she tries to sleep. They lie down together as usual and she lets her mind drift off, but her thoughts stop making sense. It’s as if she’s put the words in a blender and then poured them out, and all the while she’s sweating and starting to wonder if her legs belong to her or have been swapped out for someone else’s. Eventually she tosses and turns herself fully awake, body hot and arms outside of the duvet freezing cold, sweat dampening the hair at the back of her head.

“Queenie?” Elvis whispers. He looks at the digital clock by the bed. 2.30am. He’s been awake this whole time, watching her thrash about in her sleep and listening to the odd random word she’d mumbled.

She rolls over and looks up into his concerned face. “Elvis, I’m sick.”

He strokes her forehead gently. “I can see that, baby.”

She closes her eyes again and groans. He presses a little kiss to her forehead now, carefully moving her sweaty hair out of her face.

“Try ‘an go back ta sleep, honey.”

She groans again. “I’ll try.”

She closes her eyes but Elvis feels like a furnace next to her, he’s making it even hotter in the bed that already seems like it might be on fire. Then she hears him start to sing.

Forever, my darling / Our love will be true / Always and forever / I'll love only you / Just promise me, darling / Your love in return / May this fire in my soul, dear / Forever burn

Her mouth curls into a smile and she opens her eyes again.

“That’s cute.”

“Mmmm. I’m trying ta sing ya ta sleep.”

She giggles, putting her hand on his cheek. “Oh ‘raur. Don’t take this the wrong way but… you’re going to keep me awake if you keep doing that.”

Elvis immediately looks hurt and she wishes she could take it back. “Hm. Forget it then.” He flops onto his back, sighing loudly. He doesn’t mind staying up late, in fact he kind of enjoys it, but he wants to be asleep right now. When you’re asleep you can’t feel rejected.

“‘Raur.” Tegan rolls onto her side, leaning over him to look into his face and seeing his eyes firmly shut. “I’m sorry. I love your singing.” She nuzzles his cheek. “I just don’t find it very sleep-inducing.”

He grumbles again.

“You could sing to me when I feel better. I’d like that.” She’s still feeling a bit delirious from the fever and so she puts her head on his chest and says, “I’d really like that, Elvis.”

“Why’s ‘at then?” He huffs.

She giggles into his pyjama top. “‘Cause I’d find it a turn on.”

His lips curl into a smile at the revelation and he starts singing again, right in her ear.

My heart's at your command, dear / To keep, love, and to hold / Making you happy's my desire / Keeping you is my goal

She giggles even more. “Stop it! I’m sick!”

“Alright then. Try ‘an sleep. I won’t sing this time.”

She props herself back up on her elbow again. “You’re making the bed kind of hot…” She pulls an awkward face, knowing he won’t like this either.

He sighs deeply. “First ya won’t let me sing ya ta sleep, now ya want me on the couch.”

“I’m sorry. But you won’t sleep well with me here either.”

He curls a stray piece of hair back behind her ear. “This’d be a damned sight easier if we were at Graceland.”

“But I like my apartment. And you like my apartment. Don’t you?”

“Hmmm. Yeah. But not when I have ta sleep on the couch. I’m an old man, my back can’t take it.”

Tegan doesn’t know what to say. She doesn’t want him to be uncomfortable, but she can’t see how she’s going to sleep at all with him in the bed.

He shakes his head and sits up. “But I’ll go. I’ll see ya in the mornin’ baby.”

***

When Tegan doesn’t appear at the usual time, Elvis picks up the phone and calls her work. He causes quite a kerfuffle, being Elvis Presley and everything, but it does mean that they believe him when he says he’s not sure if she’ll be in for the rest of the week. He pads around the kitchen making coffee and rummaging around in the cupboards for anything else she might want. When he’s finished he puts it all on a tray and then sets it down on the side, slowly pushing her bedroom door open and peering inside.

“Honey?” He says softly, into the semi-darkness.

Tegan grumbles. She’d woken up a while ago, but she didn’t really want to move. She still doesn’t want to move now, so she burrows further into the bedding. Elvis walks around the bed and gets in next to her, gently putting an arm over her. She grumbles again.

“I made ya coffee,” he murmurs into her hair.

“Thanks. I feel like my throat’s full of broken glass.”

Elvis pulls her against him, kissing the top of her head. “Ya want it now?”

“Please.”

He gives her another kiss and then gets up again, fetching the tray and bringing it in. She sits up slowly, pulling pillows behind her to prop her up and looking with some interest at the contents of the tray.

“I thought you were just bringing coffee?”

Elvis puts it down on her lap. “Well I thought these might help.”

Tegan looks at the rest of the contents of the tray in bewilderment. There’s painkillers, which make sense, next to two cups of steaming coffee. So far, so good. But then there’s a box of crackers, a bottle of gatorade (which she’s quite sure she didn’t buy, so she’s confused as to what it’s doing in her apartment) three or four candy bars (which, again, she didn’t buy) and a packet of lemsip. Just, on its own. Without hot water or a cup. She rubs her forehead in confusion and then just giggles.

“What?”

She hands him his coffee and takes hers, setting the tray down on the bed between them. Coughing a little, she takes a few sips of her drink to try and make her throat feel a bit better before replying.

“I bought a load of cough drops and things at the shops yesterday,” she explains. “They’re in the cupboard over the sink.”

“Oh,” he sighs. He didn’t sleep well on the couch at all, and he’s starting to feel a little like everything he does at the moment is wrong. “Ya want those?”

She takes another sip of coffee. “In a bit.”

He huffs again. She raises an eyebrow. “What’s wrong?”

“Everythin’ I do fer ya, ya don’t like.”

Tegan sighs, and then she puts her head on his shoulder. “That’s not true. This coffee is actually alright.”

She means to make him laugh but he just groans, moving her off him and getting up again.

“I’m no good at this.”

She watches in disbelief as he walks back out of the room again. “Elvis!” She calls after him, then bursts into a fresh round of coughing. “‘Raur?”

When she sees he’s not coming back, she decides to get up, slowly pulling on panties and an old Elvis sweater she found the other day in the back of her closet. She pushes on slippers and then pads out of the room, carrying her coffee. He’s always telling her off for wandering about the place naked, so she hopes this will do. She coughs a bit more and sniffs, finding him sat on the couch watching MTV. Wandering over to the cupboard she grabs a handful of cough drops, Vicks and tissues, and then walks over to the couch. Looking away from the TV for a moment, he’s greeted by the sight of his girlfriend walking around in a sweater with his name on it and a pair of boxer-style panties. It’s hard to stay mad.

“Where’d this come from?” He asks, tugging at her sleeve as she sits down next to him.

“Found it in my closet. I think I must’ve bought it when I was a teenager. I’m amazed it still fits, but it was pretty baggy on me back then.”

“I like it,” he announces, because he really does. “No panties with my name on?”

She smirks. “I bet I could find some.”

He pats his thigh. “C’mon. Lap.”

Elvis has got in the habit of telling her to get onto his lap if she doesn’t do it of her own accord, and although it makes her feel a little bit like a pet dog, she does kind of like it. And she likes cuddling up with him like this anyway. So she sits sideways on his lap so she can still watch the TV, his arm firmly around her. She sneezes.

“I’m gonna give you this, if you keep cuddling up to me all the time.”

Elvis huffs again. “Ya want me ta go? I’ll just go.” He lets go of her so she can get up if she wants.

“I didn’t say that, ‘raur.” She cuddles into him more, her fingers playing with the buttons on his pyjama top. “I just don’t want you to get sick too. I like you being here. I’d be lonely without you.”

“Hmmm. Wouldn’t want ya ta be lonely.”

His arm returns to its previous position, but he still feels uncomfortable. He’s a protector, but he’s not much of a caregiver, and he feels like he ought to be. After having a child, he thinks he should be better at knowing what to do when someone is sick, but he and Cilla had always sort of farmed that out to other people.

“I was only teasing, earlier, you know?” She says after they’ve been sitting there quietly for a while, watching music videos.

“Should’ve known,” Elvis mutters. “Should be good at looking after sick people by now.”

Tegan shifts to look into his eyes, which stare back, full of sadness. “You couldn’t know what was in my cupboards, I didn’t tell you. But you could’ve just asked what I wanted. That might’ve been easier.”

“Oh. I suppose so.”

“It’s cute though. How much you try.”

He huffs. “Don’t wanna be cute.”

“That’s tough really, isn’t it? Because you are so cute,” she teases, rubbing her nose against his.

“Ya do really emasculate me sometimes, honey. Callin’ me pretty an’ cute. Next thing I know you’ll be plaiting my hair an’ puttin’ on make-up.”

Tegan giggles. “You put make-up on yourself in the 50s, didn’t you? Come to think of it, in the 60s and 70s too, blodyn.”

“What are ya callin’ me now?”

She bites her lip. “Blodyn. It’s a term of endearment, but literally it means flower.”

“Flower?!” He rages for a second, and then laughs. “Yer really callin’ me flower. Aha. I see.”

“Yeah I am. My little blodyn, fy blodyn bach, taking care of me while I’m sick.”

He shakes his head in disbelief. “If ya weren’t sick, ya’d be gettin’ a spankin’ for this…”

“Don’t threaten me with a good time.”

He gives her a quick hard slap to the side of her thigh, making her yelp, and then kisses her gently on the lips. “I’ll put it on the list of things ta do when you’re well again. Sing ta ya and then spank the livin’ daylights outta ya.”

***

Tegan gets worse over the next few days, and spends them mainly in bed, with Elvis ferrying hot drinks and soup back and forth. Around day four he starts to get sick too, and although he's grumpy about it he only really gets a sniffle and a bit of a cough for a day or two. Tegan is still exhausted a week later, but she drags herself out of bed to sit on the couch.

“Feelin’ any better, baby?” Elvis asks, pulling her onto his lap as usual and arranging a blanket around her.

“Hmmm. Just tired.” Tegan’s head flops against his chest.

“Can I get ya anything? Ya hungry?”

“Yeah, I am actually. Nothing in the apartment worth eating though.”

“Why don't I go out and get us a little breakfast, baby?”

She sits up and strokes his cheek lovingly. “That would be great if you feel OK?” She puts her hand on his forehead to check his temperature, worrying that he's more ill than he's letting on.

“I feel fine, baby. Jus’ sniffin’ a bit s’all.”

“Don't know how you've got away with that but I shouldn't complain. Don't want to lose my nursemaid.”

Elvis shakes his head and clicks his tongue. “What have I told ya about that? ‘M not a nursemaid.”

Tegan giggles. “Sorry. You're doing such a good job of taking care of me, though.”

He puffs up with pride. “I am?”

“Yes!” She kisses him on the lips. “I don't know what I'd have done without you.”

He grins, pleased to feel useful for a change. “Alright then. You stay there and keep warm and I’ll go and get us some breakfast.”

Tegan chuckles to herself about staying warm in the middle of September in Memphis, but she doesn't say anything. It's sweet of him to worry. As she waits for him to come back, she thinks about how sweet he's been this whole week. It was obvious not being able to take care of her instinctively bothered him, but he'd taken her advice and actually asked what she wanted and by now he was pretty good at feeding her and bringing her medicine. He'd even got in the shower with her a couple of times and helped her wash when she'd been too tired to want to do it on her own.

***

After breakfast, Elvis watches Tegan take the plates from the couch into the kitchen. She’s still only wearing panties and that old sweater, and he feels his body react to the sight of her ass jiggling a little as it makes its way around the apartment. It’s happened the past couple of mornings, but he’s done his best to ignore Little Elvis and concentrate on looking after Tegan. This morning, though, he’s really making himself known and Elvis isn’t sure he’s going to be able to ignore him.

Tegan’s too tired to notice the look on his face, flopping back down next to him and putting her legs up on his lap.

“Honey, ya can’t keep wanderin’ about the place like this,” he tells her.

“Hmmm? Why?”

He takes her hand and puts it on his now fully-hard dick. She moves her head and her eyes go wide.

“Oh.” She doesn’t know what else to say. She doesn’t want to tell him to sort himself out, but she’s not sure she has the energy to do anything for him either. Plus she’s not exactly feeling that sexy right now.

“I-it’s okay,” he stutters. “I…uh… I can sort myself out.”

Tegan shakes her head and squeezes him. “No, I wanna help.”

“Honey, you’re still sick.”

She sighs, her head back on his shoulder. “Well, at least let me watch then.”

She hears him cough awkwardly, as if he’s trying to swallow down something particularly difficult.

“W-watch?”

“Mmmm. Y’know. You jerk yourself and I’ll… watch.”

“I think I might feel a bit self-conscious, baby.”

“Why? I’ve seen your dick before. And, spoiler alert, I know what happens at the end.”

She hears a grumbling deep in his throat. “I’ve never… done that before. In front of someone.”

“Oh. Well I promise I’d enjoy it.”

He moves his head and shoulder so that she has to look at him. “Would ya?”

She nods. “Here. Why don’t I help you?”

Reaching down to undo the garish belt he’s wearing, she unzips his pants. He shuffles around to make it easier for her to release Little Elvis from his boxers, then moans softly as she pumps him up and down a couple of times. Letting go, she takes his hand from where it’s resting on his thigh and guides it towards his dick. He takes over stroking himself, enjoying the feeling of the kisses she starts to press to his neck and ear. His other hand reaches around to her ass, grabbing a handful and sighing softly to himself. She bites her lip, thinking about how else she can help him.

“You want me to do this?” She asks, slipping her hand in his boxers to massage his balls.

He groans. “Yes please.”

She squeezes them gently a few times, and then starts to get other ideas. One of her fingers rubs the skin just below them, and he almost jumps.

“Honey!”

She giggles. “No?”

“No.”

“Okay.”

“I swear you’re supposed ta be sick.”

She goes back to massaging, her lips pressing against his. “I am. I just thought you might like a little assistance.”

He kisses her and then pulls back again. “I don’t need yer finger up my asshole.”

Tegan can’t help herself, bursting out laughing, pulling her hand away from him to slap her thigh in amusement.

“It wasn’t your arsehole, cariad. It was your taint.”

Elvis tilts his head to one side and huffs out a sigh. “Yer on very thin ice, y’know that? Even sick girls can get a spanking.”

She giggles, cuddling into him and kissing his collarbone. “Sorry, ‘raur. Please carry on. I’ll keep my hands to myself.”

She doesn’t really, they hang around his neck as he kisses her, run over his chest, even wrap around his own hand to help him as he gets closer to release. But she does resist the temptation to put them in his boxers again. At least for now.

“Baby, I’m gonna cum,” he breathes in her ear, his lips and teeth finding the lobe.

“Let me see,” she replies, looking down as he kisses her neck and makes a mess of his hand and pants.

“Oh fuck. You do like me wandering around in these panties.”

“Mmmm.”

They sit there for a while longer, until he decides he has to get cleaned up.

“You enjoy that?” She calls after him, as he walks towards the bathroom.

He turns and smiles. “More ‘an I thought I would.” He fixes her with an intense stare. “But not as much as I’d enjoy fucking that pussy a mine, baby. Hurry up and get well.”

***

Taglist:

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admirationandromantics · 2 days ago

Text

Teacher's Lounge

Another request! I'm thinking about not posting updates to anonymous requests, and instead just pasting said request in here? I'll tag you if you didn't ask anonymously. It's easier and more neat.

🍋‍🟩 Hear me out, Josh becoming a temporary teacher for film with his own office, he often let you study in there seeing as the campus didn’t have enough study space to accommodate everyone and you become quite overstimulated on a normal day (@b3rryb3t)

This is therefore maybe a teacher x student thing, but you're roughly the same age anyway (maybe 2 years difference), since he graduated before you and has already come out with his debut movie. You're still hanging out with the friend group as well.

Word count: 1,6k (Unedited)

It’s hard to find good reading spots on campus. My messy room could be an option, but I can’t get inspired there. I need different surroundings than what I’m used to. Booked rooms are a no-go, especially now that exams are coming closer. They’re always booked, and everyone uses them. I’ve tried going to the library, but if there’s room, the place is never quiet. The librarians don't care. I get it though, everyone is stressed, and the only place you can work on a group assignment is the library. You have to talk, you have to discuss. This means that I’m still left without a spot to study. I’ve tried other libraries, other cafes and even at my friends place. Nothing works. Maybe there’s something in the other buildings? Somewhere quiet where I’ll feel content.

The first building that comes to mind is the Teachers house. A large building with some group rooms and many small study sofas. Many of the teachers have offices there, but if I'm quiet, they won’t mind. These spots are usually also taken, but maybe I’ll have a chance if I’m quick.

I walk down the hall, stopping when I see the old abandoned office. This room is usually always empty, waiting for someone to inhabit it. But it’s not empty anymore. The previously collected dust is cleaned away, the wood door has a new furnish and a brand new slide-on plate reads a familiar name. Joshua Washington.

I widen my eyes in surprise, it cannot be. Why is he here? Didn’t he already finish his degree? He just finished his debut movie, which was excellent. I saw him at one of Emily’s parties too, which was not long ago. About three weeks. He looked good then, very good. Like he felt fulfilled and accomplished. He should feel good about himself. Not many people do that on their first big project. He did talk about a new job he got, but I assumed it was another film-related gig. Was this the job?

My curiosity gets the better of me, and I carefully knock three times. The sound is beautiful, hard and dark wood which doesn’t vibrate as I hit it. I wait, hearing shuffling and metal clinking inside.

“Um, yeah, come in!”

I open the door, holding the handle hard. If I was wrong, then this would be an awfully awkward encounter. The door glides easily without making any sound. They have really improved this place. He lifts his head, meeting my stare as he does. A smile creeps on his face, eyes lighting up by the sight. I stand still, mouth agape and furrowed brows. He’s really here.

“Well, if it isn’t my favorite student”

“You teach here?”

“As of this Monday, yes”

I close the door behind me, looking around the room. It’s cozy, filled with family pictures and a couple of movie posters. His diploma is also on the wall. On one surface are many small film trophies from his childhood, and in front of all of them, the price he got last year for his first debut Hollywood movie. I look around in awe, the yellow light making everything feel so professional and real.

“And by the way, I’m not your student, I take another course”

“That can’t stop me from stating that you’re in a superior’s office”

“How did you get this job?”

“They offered it to me”

“Just out of nowhere? You don’t have experience in teaching. You’re not even a professor”

“I guess my talent shines through”

I look at him and his smug face. He’s leaning back in the roller chair, feet upon his desk. Everything here is so neat, so unlike him. He also loves being able to joke like this, but honestly, I’m still surprised by the circumstances. He made one movie, and now, the university wanted him to teach a course?

“If I know you correctly, you’ll probably be fired by the next month”

“And why’s that?”

I take a seat in front of him, not surprised that the chair is lower than him. Oh, how he loves his power trips. The chair is comfortable, and suits the surroundings, but I feel small.

“Because you can’t keep your hands to yourself”

“That’s true”

“There’s only a question about time, when will you fuck one of your students, and when will you get caught”

He laughs, shaking his head as he fiddles with an expensive ball pen. He looks at me in disbelief, maybe a little surprised that I said exactly what I thought.

“Who’s to say I haven’t done it already?”

“One week into the job?”

“Maybe”

“You’re disgusting, Washington”

“That’s Mr. Washington to you” he corrects, pointing at me with the same pen. I smile at him, almost unable to hide my laughter.

“I’m not gonna start calling you that”

“Ugh, damn you”

A slight silence follows, and analyse his desk. Many, many pens, his laptop, a stack of papers and a couple of memory sticks. Again, everything is so neat. It makes me feel weird.

“By the way, I actually haven’t had a teacher-student relationship”

“You shouldn’t” I quickly shoot back. It would not be a good idea. Being in the filming industry is hard in itself, but he also has a shot of doing something more. This was not something to take lightly.

“At least not gonna with my own students”

“Jesus Chris Josh”

He laughs again, loving my overdramatic reactions. He knows what gets me to tip over, how to make me irritated and upset. Of course he’ll use it to his advantage.

“Anyways, what are you doing here? Isn’t your building on the other side of campus?”

I sigh loudly, leaning back in the chair and letting my head fall back. I’m tired, exhausted even. But just two more weeks, and I’ll be finished with the exams. My diploma isn’t far away.

“Trying to find a study spot, but everywhere is taken”

“Why don’t you just use your dorm?”

“Easy for you to say, you never lived in one”

He leans back, furrowing his brows and being deep in thought.

“You could sit here?”

I look up, surprised by the offer. Is that even okay, am I, as a student, allowed to do that? I think about it, the place is quiet, cozy and a completely different atmosphere than usual. It could work.

“Can I?”

“Of course, it wouldn't be the first time you’ve been in my quarters” he teases, leaning back over the desk.

“Haha, very funny, but are you serious?”

“Yeah, I mean, my students usually don’t come here, too busy actually understanding the material, compared to some” he points at me and my backpack. I roll my eyes.

“Well, if getting my degree consisted of knowing the on and off button of a camera, I would excel at it”

“Careful, or you might not get to study here”

“Okay, okay, sorry. You’re an accomplished producer and teacher who’s totally awesome”

“And you have to call me Mr. Washington”

I scoff at his request, shaking my head. He’s still smiling, biting casually into his lower lip.

“I draw the line there”

“Fine”

I take up my laptop, immediately starting to type. This was gonna be great. Might have some negative effects though. We’ve got a history. Too much time spent together has usually led to more uncivilised activities, but that’s not something I have to worry about now.

***

The weeks pass, and I truly enjoy his company, even if it’s in silence. He’s busy grading papers and making schedules. I’m prepping for my exams, writing, reading, and memorising. Everything was going great, and the day of the exam finally came.

I took one look over the questions, and my heart fell. What the hell was this? I did my best, drawing out a mind map to help me refresh my memory. It actually went quite well, if I do say so myself. Not the best, but I’m definitely not failing.

I walk down the hall yet again, not bothering to knock on Josh’s door. His head rises, noticing my presence, and he smiles. God I love how he smiles.

“So, how did it go?”

I close the door, biting my lip as I turn to face him again. He looks up expectantly, eyes big and round. He rises, walking around the desk to face me.

“It went great!” I blurt out excitedly, arms going out. He smiles, meeting me in a hug as I throw my arms around him. His hands go to my waist, pulling me closer against him. I bury my face in his neck, warm skin against mine, smelling his expensive cologne.

“See, you just needed a place to study”

“I indeed did”

We break apart a little, arms still holding tight so none of us leaves. He leans in, eyes lowering to my lips. I know what’s about to happen, it has happened a million times before. In his bedroom, a couple of random bathrooms, the mountain lodge, but never in an office. My finger finds its way to his lips, stopping him in his tracks.

“Mr. Washington, what do you think you’re doing?”

“Just celebrating” he whispers against my finger, hand going up to take it away. He finds his way to the back of my head, tangling in my hair as he pulls me closer.

“You can get in trouble”

“Never stopped us before”

His breath feels hot against my skin, head getting dizzy and body warmer. How long were we going to keep this thing alive?

“Fuck it” I whisper against him, capturing his lips on mine.

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yapperblog · 9 hours ago

Text

Like it's the last night

Tags: angst, brief mention of a break up, lapdance, oral (m! and fem!receiving), fingering, PinV (unprotected).

Explicit RPF below, don't interact if you are not comfortable with that; +18

Joost turns to see you, his whole body physically relaxing at the sight. In a blink of an eye he is standing next to you, ready to wrap his hands around you, feel the smell of your perfume. Before he gets to move closer, you turn around suddenly.

"We need to break up." your voice is stern.

"What?" he says with a chuckle, thinking he misheard you.

"I am breaking up with you, Joost. We can't keep going like this anymore." your face is without any emotion, he watches you say the harsh words so easily, like it's the most natural thing. But it doesn't make any sense to him.

"Why? What happened?" his heart sinks. Are you pulling a mean joke on him? "I don't understand." he tries to reach out to touch you, but you take a step back, his hand falling limp by his side.

"This is the problem. You never understand. How can you not see that you are pulling me down?" your words feel like a barb wire around his throat. "I deserve so much better." you say and tears start falling down his face, meanwhile you remain so stoic, that he starts to believe you are right.

He tries to speak, but nothing comes out, he watches you go, his legs not moving. He just stays in place, your figure disappearing in the distance.

"Wait!" Joost screams.

He sits up in his bed, face wet with tears. His hand immediately moving to your side of the bed searching for you, but it's empty. The panic sinks in, his brain still hazy.

He puts his face in his hands, finally coming back to his senses, realising it was all a dream. A nightmare even. He checks the time on his phone - 7:10. You left for work already, you are still his girlfriend, you didn't break up with him, he repeats to himself. But the words you said keep ringing in his head. You do deserve better.

He tries to go back to sleep, but it is of no use, self-doubting thoughts are too loud. He wants to hear your voice, needs reassurance, he thinks of calling you, but doesn't want to disturb you at work so early in the morning, so he settles for a quick text.

"Want to grab dinner after work together?"

he types and hits send, staring at the screen, waiting for you to see it and reply. After a few silent minutes, he puts down the phone. You must be busy. There is no point trying to go back to sleep, he decides the shower will help to get rid of the weird thoughts and forget the dream.

While drying off his wet hair with a towel, he checks his phone again to see two notifications:

"Sure! Would love to!"

"Someone is up early. Everything ok?"

Seeing your text brings a smile to his face. He swears you can read his thoughts, you always know when something is on his mind.

"Just a bad dream. I will come pick you up at 4."

All day he couldn't properly focus on any errands he had to run, all tasks left behind half-finished. He switches from one thing to another, in hopes of busying his brain enough, but the thoughts are too loud in his head. Is he doing enough in the relationship? Are you truly happy with him? Is he happy? Does he maintain work and life balance? Work definitely takes up more of his time.

His mind flashes back to seeing your face when he wakes up earlier than you, in those silent moments his heart is full with so much love for you, so many times you caught him laying by your side, brushing your hair softly with his fingers, a smile spreading on his face when you slowly wake up, or on the weekends when you both can lay in, spending sweet time in each others embrace, sinking into the mattress when his hips slot so perfectly between yours, rocking gently, hitting all the spots, that make you moan into his mouth. He thinks about how your fingers feel in his hair, when you've missed each other so much, you can't wait to tear each others clothes off, kissing hungrily, his fingers bound to leave marks how hard he is holding your hips, whispering into your ear, how good you feel around him, how much he loves you, pushing so deep into you, getting drunk on your sweet moans and whimpers.

He starts to feel hot at all the images in his head, he needs to change his trace of thought, before he gets fully hard, as he doesn't have the time to deal with it alone right now. Every corner of the apartment is filled with memories, his eyes catch on a broken off piece of a mug, you accidentally dropped on the floor during your last argument. It seems so stupid now, the spilled tears from the both of you so unnecessary. You talked it out after and found a compromise, hugging each other tight, promising and reassuring everything will be okay. He picks up the piece and throws it out.

He starts to feel claustrophobic surrounded by four walls and decides to go for a walk, fresh air always helps, it is getting close to 4pm anyways.

He walks around the park for a while, drawing while sitting on the bench, then gets an Uber to get to your work. He still arrives an hour early, waits for you to finish up, meanwhile busying himself on the phone.

The weather has dropped down very suddenly that week, the cold air biting your cheeks as you walk out of your office building. Joost is all bundled up in a hoodie, puffy jacket, beanie pulled down low on his forehead and headphones sticking out. He is barely recognisable, but you wouldn't mistake him for anyone else.

"Hii." you call out from a distance. You can't help but smile at him waiting for you, you've been looking forward to seeing him all day.

Your voice immediately draws his attention. A wide smile spreading across his face, as he looks in your direction. If he had a tail, it would be wiggling wildly.

He puts away the headphones and quickly closes the distance between you, wrapping his hands around you, trying not too throw himself at you, but it's so difficult after the day he had, he needs to feel you.

"Hi" he says finally letting go of you just enough to see your face.

"Hi." you say again. He is always excited to see you, like a little puppy jumping at your feet when you come home, but this is different. You almost get worried something happened and he can see it on your face.

"I missed you." he says looking into your eyes and leans in for a kiss, he knows it has to be quick, you are in public. But he can't help it, you answer the kiss just as desperate - you've missed him too, for an average day it felt too long that you haven't seen him. His lips feel as intoxicating as they always do, he squeezes you even tighter to him, wishes you were back home already without the layers of clothes separating you. You put your hands under his jacket seeking his warmth. He can feel your cold hands even through the hoodie underneath.

"Let's get something to eat, ja?" he asks, taking your hands in his, trying to warm them with his breath.

"Let's go. I know a good place nearby." you lead the way.

While eating you tell him about the new drama at work, he listens and tells his own remarks and thoughts about your coworkers and what he would have done. Gossiping with him is always so fun, he is the great rare combo of having a friend, who can give gossip and shopping advice, but also a boyfriend, who cares about you dearly and tends to your needs in bed. When you ask him about his day, you notice the lack of enthusiasm, he still tells you all about it, but there is no usual spark.

"What was your bad dream about?" you ask him suddenly. You can tell you hit the spot, this must be what has been bothering him.

He looks at you, knowing he can't get away with trying to brush it off. There is no reason to really, you are always there for each other. He shouldn't hide it.

"I know it's stupid and just a dream. But we broke up in my dream, and I have been feeling off all day. I'm sorry."

"It's not stupid, Joost." you reach for his hand to try to accentuate your words. "And don't be sorry, I would have felt the same way. Sometimes dreams feel so realistic, I also wake up disturbed." he gives you a weak smile. "I love you." you move closer to hold his cheek. "Is this also about a fight we had?"

"Probably." he replies. He hasn't been in a lot of relationships. He cares about you deeply, has never felt this way about anybody before, sometimes he catches himself thinking he wishes he could be glued to you to spend every breathing moment together and it scares him. If you ever loose feelings for him, he wouldn't know what to do with himself.

"I love you." you say again, seeing he is in his head again. "That's why we bicker, because we care about this" you motion in between you two. "About us. We want this to work and it will."

You can finally see his shoulders relax. He leans in to kiss you, which you gladly accept. "Love you."

In the taxi back home you are stuck in traffic. Before the driver regulated the temperature, the windows started to fog up a little at the sides. In the corner of your eye, you notice him doodling with his finger on the window. You lean closer to him, putting your head on his shoulder, he kisses at your hairline, putting his head on top of yours and continuing to draw. He writes I love you, and intertwines your fingers together on his lap.

Since that conversation with Joost, you've had an idea brewing in your head. It was obvious he needed to relax, a couples massage could work, but there was also something else that wouldn't leave your mind. It is silly and cliche really, but the thought of focusing all attention on him, making him feel good, reminding him you are his and you'd do anything for him, makes not only your heart flutter. Even if it means giving him a lapdance. He never expressed an interest in it directly, but you did notice you manage to pull the loudest most delicious moans from him when you are on top, so this could work.

Joost is in the other room working on his music, through the closed door you could hear him humming a melody and sending voice memos to Tantu from time to time. This gives you time to get ready: you put on a new set of lingerie, which doesn't leave much to imagination, already in anticipation of his face seeing it for the first time, and a short silk robe tied around your waist.

Now it's the waiting game. You decide not to call Joost over, you leave him to finish up and come into the living room on his own terms, so he doesn't have any lingering thoughts of unfinished work and can fully enjoy your surprise.

As you sit on the couch, mentally preparing the dance you will do, quietly laughing at your own imagination, you hear the door open and Joost's slow steps. You quickly throw your phone further down the couch, sitting up straighter trying to look sexy, giddy waiting for him.

Joost walks in, his eyes immediately meeting yours, a wide smirk spreading on his face.

He whistles noticing what you are wearing. "That's a nice outfit." he says coming to see you closer. You try to keep a straight face and not laugh.

He is about to flop down on the couch next to you and wrap his arms around you, but you stop him.

"I've got a surprise for you." you stand up and smile up at him tracing your finger down his chest. He is wearing a t-shirt and sweatpants. He reaches for your waist to pull you closer, but you take his hand instead to lead him towards the chair. You gently push him to sit, which he obediently does and laughs confused.

"Ok, so you sit and relax, ok?" you reach for your phone to turn on the music you picked. As you turn around towards him, you catch him looking at your every move. You want to spoil him rotten, your heart is filled with so much love and it's all for him. He feels the same way, he wants you to have everything and more. He buys you everything you mention even in the passing, which you chastise him for, but he can't help it. He remembers the perfume you liked, knows exactly what pastry to bring you to cheer you up. There is never a moment when there isn't a fresh bouquet of flowers in your house, which he brings for you. He doesn't need a reason for it, you are the reason. He showers you in "I love you"s, he is your biggest hypeman, even your smallest achievements are applauded by his loudest cheers.

You take a step towards him, smiling sweetly at him, making sure to sway your hips to the music.

"Is it my birthday today? Did I loose track of time?" he asks laughing, but you see the way his eyes eat your act up.

"I just want you to have a good time." you walk towards him, he spreads his legs apart to make room for you. As you come to stand in between his legs, he sits up to be closer to you, but you push him back with one finger on his chest. "You work so hard" your voice is low. You start walking around him, tracing your finger from his chest to his shoulder, around his back. He turns his head following you. You start massaging his shoulders, feeling the tension.

"We can pretend it's your birthday, would you like that?" you lean in closer to whisper it in his ear, still working your hands into the tense muscle.

"No, this is good." he replies and you can already tell your plan is working. You kiss him on the cheek and continue walking, placing your hand on the back of his neck. You walk around the chair, his eyes never leaving you for one second. You are now a few steps away from him dancing in tune with the slow music, you move your hands down your body, lifting the hem of the silk robe up just enough to give him a sneak peek at what's underneath.

He sucks in a breath, seeing just a lacy string on your hip, but it already has him worked up at what's to come. "Fuck" he whispers.

You walk slowly towards him, you can't contain a smile when you notice his blown out pupils and the way his chest moves up and down. He has never been a patient man, and you love to test him.

"You look so hot." he says looking up at you, when you come to stand in between his legs again. You sit on top of his legs, facing him. "Yeah, you like it?" you put your arms around his neck, moving closer to him, your legs on each side of his. He puts his arms on your hips, feeling the warmth through the silky material, finally getting to touch you, he lets out a sigh.

Before he can reply, you start placing slow kisses on his cheek, his forehead, his nose. "I missed you" you say in between kisses.

"I missed you too." he says, his voice breathy.

"Tell me about your day." you say when you nudge his jaw with your nose, he rolls his head to the back of chair, giving you more access to his neck. You start placing kisses and little bites, his hands grip your hips harder, moving to your thighs.

"I- um" he finds it hard to focus, when your mouth feels so good and warm on his skin, but this is exactly your plan. "We finished the beat," he continues, while you place a kiss on his pulse point, moving closer to his ear. "for the new song."

"So proud of you. Can't wait to hear it." you say into his ear. A satisfied moan escapes his lips and he squeezes your thighs, feeling the soft plush skin. Little words of praise always work on him. "What else?" you ask as you move to leave open mouth kisses along his throat.

"I am working on the lyrics for-" you giggle against his skin when he can't finish a sentence properly.

"You are evil." he sits up straighter to look into your eyes, wrapping his hand around your lower back to push you closer to him. Teasing him is your favorite game and he lets you do it, knowing the reward is sweeter. You start to circle your hips trying to feel more of him, a smirk spreads on your face when you feel the outline of his already half hard dick through the sweatpants, your clit rubbing on his tip making both of you suck in a breath, but before you can get too far ahead of yourself, you unwrap his hands around you and take a step back.

"Heyy." his voice whiny when you leave him. Your legs are a little wobbly as you stand up, teasing him got you worked up too quickly. But how couldn't it, when he looks so good, all pliant for you, waiting for your every move.

You turn back around to face him, continuing moving to the song, slowly walking your way up to him again. He seems to have gotten back to his senses in the short break you gave him, you can tell by the smile that adorns his face, one dimple you love so much showing, he looks more confident now that he knows what's coming. His legs are still spread, his hard on so obvious against his sweatpants. Hands on the arm rests of the chair, but you know he wants nothing more but to touch you, and you are happy but to give him that.

"You look so great, schat." he watches you sway your hips to the song, your eyes closes, enjoying yourself, letting him ogle, as you move closer and closer to him, letting the anticipation build. "Could have told me earlier you were planning this, I would have wrapped it up with Tantu quicker."

"I didn't want to interrupt your creative process. Who knows what you are up to with your producer." you say giggling. "You already have matching t-shirts, who knows what's next." you come to stand between his legs.

"Oh we get up to all sorts of things. Aligning our beats together, cranking up the tempo, on repeat all night." You roll your eyes and laugh. "Can't create an album without a little bit of love making, don't be jealous." he says looking up at you, smiling proud of his joke.

"You two are my favorite weirdos." you put your hands in his hair and push it back, running your fingers through the strands. He moans in delight, always begging you to scratch his head laying his head on your stomach after a long day.

"Give me your hand." you tell him, which he happily does. You put the tie of the robe in his hand and he gently pulls on it looking into your eyes, untying your silk robe, watching it reveal your body fully to him.

"You are perfect."

You slowly turn, swaying your hips along to the song as you pull off the robe completely, letting it drop to the floor. You place your hands on either side of the armrest, as you lower your ass over his crotch, your back to his chest, hovering and moving side to side, teasing before you finally press down, letting your ass roll over his crotch and thighs.

"Oh fuck, baby. Just like that" he is holding your hips, letting you move on your own, he just wants to feel you.

You circle your hips, feeling him swell underneath you. You can’t resist the grin, happy at how quickly you can make him hard.

He presses himself closer to you. "Can I touch you more?" whispering into your ear.

"Please." he is not the only one getting aroused. This is supposed to be about him, but you know he enjoys your pleasure as much as you do.

He slowly moves his hands from your hips, up your torso to your chest, cupping your tits through the lacy bra, feeling your nipples harden under his warm palms. You moan at his touch and can feel him smile against your cheek, he is also breathing fast and hard while you continue to move your hips on his crotch. Your arch your back and moan, once he starts pinching and pulling on your nipples, you feel yourself getting wetter each passing second.

"So good for me." he whispers into your ear. You are enjoying yourself, but want to take the control back so instead of grinding this time, you bounce in time with the beat, arching your back to feel his entire length. He leans back on the chair, covering his mouth with one hand. You lean into him, reaching your hand behind his neck, you want to feel all of him, needing him like air.

"Don't." you move his hand, which was covering his mouth. "Let me hear you." his put down his hand and opens his eyes, meeting yours. He leans for a kiss, moaning into your mouth and you eat it all up. Knowing you can make him fall apart so easily, makes you even more aroused and determined.

After a particular move of your hips, you notice him whine louder than usual. So you repeat it again and again, getting off on his sounds alone, your own breathing hitching feeling his dick twitch beneath you. His chest hot like coal beneath you, he can't seem to decide where to put his hands, wants to feel all of you at the same time, he moves from your holding your hips to squeezing your chest, enjoying the feel of it under his hands.

"Baby." he tips his head back. "I'm gonna cum if you continue this." he says matter of factly. He is so lost in you, in this closeness, he is fine cuming in his pants at this point. The stimulation and the sight of you enough to tip him over the point.

"Open your mouth for me." you hear him say and follow his instruction blindly. He puts his finger in your mouth, you swirl your tongue around it. He then starts tracing it down your chest, your stomach and in between your legs.

"Is this okay?" he asks before pulling your panties to the side, still trying to make sure to care for your needs first. You realise what he is doing, you want this to be about him, so you quickly gather yourself up, slipping out of his hands, turning to face him. "You are the best." you give him a kiss on the lips. "I love you." another kiss. "So much" a kiss on his neck.

"I love you too." he manages to say. "Let me take care of you." a kiss on chest, as you move to sit on the floor in between his legs.

You sit up higher to place a kiss on his stomach over the t-shirt. Then move it up to place a kiss directly on his skin, revealing his tattoo to you, placing more kisses there looking up at him. His eyes are filled with so much love and lust for you, he can't believe how lucky he is to have you in his life. You move lower and lower.

"Can I take these off?" you ask holding the waistband of his sweatpants.

"Yes." he says nodding. He lifts his hips helping you take it off, letting it fall around his ankles. You place a kiss on the tip of his still clothed dick, feeling the wet spot there.

"Oh fuck." he sighs and you wish you could record all of his sounds and moans to keep it on repeat.

"Can I take these off too, gorgeous?" he nods and you take off his underwear, getting to see his pretty dick. The tip leaking and red. Your mouth is salivating at the sight, you take the base in your hand and stroke it halfway, watching the dollop of precum leak out of his tip.

"I am not gonna last at all." he doesn't want to close his eyes, wants to commit every second of this to his memory, but he is also so close already, he is afraid he will cum as soon as your lips wrap around him and he doesn't want this to end so fast.

You tuck your hair behind your ears and start placing kisses along his shaft, knowing he is close, you decide not to tease him any longer and take him in your mouth, focusing on the tip at first. He lets out a loud moan, borderline a whine, as his hands grip arm rests of the chair. You continue working your way down his length, moving your hands at the base what you can't reach yet. He puts one of his hands in your hair, not pushing, just needing to feel you, to ground himself at least somehow. You come up for air, letting the spit mix with his pre-cum, it's messy, but it's just way he likes it.

You relax your throat and take more of him, your nose pressing on his lower stomach. The pressure feels so good around his tip, he can't help but buck his hips, making you gag, he apologises immediately, but feels you moan around him. You continue bobbing your head, keeping your lips around him, licking on the underside, tasting him. After a few pumps you deepthroat him again, you try to keep him there for as long as you can, feeling him tighten his hold on your hair and moan loudly. The muscles of his stomach twitching. He is so loud, you hope the neighbours won't complain, but you can't care about it now, it is all worth it. You move your hand down to touch his balls.

"I'm close" he manages to say as a warning in case you don't want him to finish in your mouth, but you just hum in agreement around him creating vibrations around him, and continuing to massage his balls. You look up at him, your eyes watering, you look so good with his dick in your mouth, almost naked and he can't control it any longer. You feel him throb and he releases in your mouth with a loud groan. You swallow, letting him ride out his climax before you pull away. You wipe your chin from all the spit and his release you weren’t able to swallow. His chest is raising up and down as he tries to come back to earth. You put your head on his thigh, trying to regulate your own breathing. You are still so wet, you can feel your clit throbbing.

"Come here." he says and you pull yourself up using his thighs for support and straddle him again.

"That was so hot." he kisses you, tasting himself on your tongue. He rests his forehead against yours, breathing the same air, enjoying being so close. You feel him wrap his hands around your thighs and he pushes off the chair standing up suddenly with you in his arms. You squeal in surprise, holding onto his neck.

"What are you doing?"

"Returning the favor. Did you think I would leave you unsatisfied?" he says and lets you both fall on the couch, managing the fall with his hands.

"Oh my god." you breathe out. "That's a lot of energy after just getting your dick sucked."

"That's what you do to me." you feel his weight on top of you so comforting. He brushes your messed up hair away from your face and kisses you deeply, you moan into his mouth, somehow you missed his lips even though it hasn't been that long. You always long for him, always need more, even being as close as right now isn't enough. You wrap your hands around his shoulders, letting him press into you more. When you have to separate for air, he sits up on his knees to take off his shirt, he feels so hot.

"You look great, did I tell you that already?"

"A few times, yeah." you giggle looking at him, as he lets his eyes eat you whole, appreciate the lingerie you put on for him.

"I mean it every time."

You spread your legs, making room for him, as he leans back down to you. He starts placing kisses along your jaw, while his hands wrap your legs around his hips. "Now you tell me about your day." he continues kissing your face, his moustache tickling you.

"I got assigned into a new project at work." you try to keep your tone controlled, but it's difficult with his ministrations. "I'm pretty excited about it-" he starts kissing along your cheek closer to your ear.

"That's good. I'm happy for you." he says into your ear. You try to squirm away, when his breath tickles you, giggling, but he is holding you close to him. "Tell me more." he urges you to continue.

"I bought that new-" you gasp when he moves to leave kisses on your neck. You realise he is mimicking what you were doing to him. "What happened? Continue." he says into your neck, leaving a trace of bites and soothing with his tongue. "I bought the new lotion I was telling you about. Ah" you moan when he kisses your sweet spot and moves his hands along your sides, feeling more of you. "Oh yeah? The one that smells of caramel you told me about?"

"Yes. That one." you manage to reply.

He moves lower, kissing along your shoulders and collarbone, taking off the straps of your bra, letting it fall down your arms. "You know I love caramel."

"Mhm" you hum approvingly.

He puts his head on your chest, kissing along the exposed skin, but he wants more, looking up at you. "Can I take it off?" you nod and he slips his hands behind your back to unclasp the bra. He kisses the newly exposed skin, circling his tongue around your nipple, making you let a loud moan. It makes him smirk with your nipple still in his mouth, he sucks harder on it, getting lost in the feeling of it and your moans, while his hand teases your other nipple.

You are writhing moaning mess underneath him. He loves having you like this, so desperate for more, desperate for him and him only.

"You are so pretty." he says, while switching to the other nipple, putting it in his mouth. You move your hands to run through his hard, scratching at his scalp, making him moan too.

"Please, Joost. More" your brain is already switching off feeling so pent up. He couldn't ever deny you, you treated him so well, he came so hard, the image of you on your knees for him still engraved in his brain.

He moves lower, kissing along your stomach, feeling the soft skin, looking up you for consent when he wants to take off your underwear. You say yes and he takes it off, throwing it somewhere on the floor.

He wastes no time licking at your folds insistently, his tongue so deep in you. "You are so wet. Dancing for me got you worked up too?" he doesn't let you reply when he licks so generously into you.

"Right there, Joost, yes." your moans encouraging him. He sucks on your clit and licks at you listening for your sounds, what makes you moan louder and repeating exactly those actions. He separates for a second, letting his finger run through your folds, collecting your slick and moving it to your hole, slipping in. Your back arches, he moves his hand to hold your hips, while the other finds your nipple, tugging on it as he dives back to suck on your clit. He feels it twitch under his lips in no time. You almost scream, orgasm washing over your body, moaning loud, as you hold his head in place to ride out the orgasm. He continues licking at you, watching your face and pumping his fingers, only lowering the speed when you push at him of overstimulation.

He moves up, his face lying on your chest again, looking up at you, but you feel his fingers still in you, clamping down on his digits. He lets you calm down, but when you open your eyes, smiling at him, he starts pumping his fingers in and out of you again.

"Fuck, Joost." you moan throwing your head back into the pillow.

"Give me one more, baby." he moves closer to you, petting your head with the other hand, making you look at him. Your mouth is opened in a continued moan, your breathing laboured. His own face matches yours, he is enjoying your pleasure as much. He is fucking you with his fingers like he would with his dick, feeling you squeeze around his fingers making him moan as much.

"Should I dance for you too? Would you like that?" he asks, his fingers moving at a faster pace, curling up.

"Do I put on the silk robe?" he says in between kisses along your jaw. "Turn on some slow sexy music?" he feels you clamp down on his fingers at those words.

"Oh you would like that." he smirks, as you let out another moan of his name.

"Fuck, that would be so hot, Joost. I am not even kidding"

You feel him get hard again humping against your leg. "I need you inside, please." you say pushing at his hand between your legs, "I want you to feel good too."

He takes out his fingers, licking them clean, moaning and putting them in your mouth too, your tongue swirling between the digits. His dick twitches at the sight, he sits up, pumping his dick a few times. You wrap your legs around him, encouraging him to hurry up.

"Please, Joost." you whine. "I need you."

He leans in, moving his length through your folds, and finally when his head catches on your hole, he slips in. You are so open and wet for him, sucking him right in, it feels so good, he almost cums on the spot, he has to close his eyes and focus. After a moment of collecting himself, he bottoms out, feeling you stretch around him, he leans closer to you to place a kiss on your lips. He starts picking up the pace, both of you still sensitive from your previous orgasms, you know this won't last long.

The sounds in the room are downright sinful, the wet sounds bouncing off the walls. Both of you clinging onto each other.

"I am so lucky to have you. I love you. Thank you so much" he starts running his mouth against your ear, he is holding himself on his elbows on each side of you, one of his arms sneaks between you to touch your clit, your face twisting in pleasure. Your arms are wrapped around his shoulders, wanting to feel him closer.

"I love you too. I'd do anything for you." he says through gritted teeth, you can tell he is close, know you are. After a particular sharp thrust, your back arches, with a loud moan you gush around him. With the added wetness he can move with almost no friction and it triggers his own orgasm. You watch his face contorted in pleasure, before he hides it in your neck groaning and whining. He comes so deep inside of you, continuing to rut inside you, your mixed releases spilling out.

You are not ready to separate from each other yet, you scratch his back lightly, helping him calm down. He kisses your shoulder. He pulls out of you carefully, seeing his cum spill out of you, mesmerised every time. He sits up and puts his underwear back on. You watch him stand up, while you still feel like jelly. He goes to bring a warm washcloth to clean you up, washing so carefully between your legs.

After both of you are decent, he finds the robe you wearing on the floor. He starts putting it on, the sleeves too short on his arms, barely fitting him, it covers halfway up his ass. You start laughing uncontrollably at how he looks.

"Dude, you look so funny." you sit up and reach for your phone to take a photo of him, still laughing.

"Funny? I was supposed to look sexy" he strikes a pose putting his hand on his hip, pouting his lips. Another one holding a peace sign with his fingers. For another photo he pretends to be shocked, covering up his chest, but the robe barely closes around him. You are doubled over laughing at him.

He reaches for his sweatpants on the floor, taking out a pack of cigarettes from the pocket, going up to the window to smoke, still wearing your robe.

He opens the window and takes a long drag, as your laughter can still be heard. He is so happy in this moment, truly the luckiest man on earth.

#joost klein #joost klein rpf #joost klein x reader #joost klein smut

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