#I don't know if this makes any sense but it's what's going through my head
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“Did you know that shrimps…”
Tim leaned in, poorly hidden eagerness splayed across his face. A clue that Danny and Phantom were dating?
“Are super delicious?” Danny mumbled, ducking his head to hide his impish grin. Tim exhaled, disappointed, and leaned back to observe. Danny currently had his arm elbow deep in Jason’s chest, the older man grimacing at the weird feeling of being phased through.
“You done?”
“Almost. This is a multiple session kind of thing though, since the corrupted ectoplasm's not only in your body, it's actively trying to fuse with your DNA. Like, a really fucked up virus with virtually no cure."
"No cure?!" Dick's panic was only barely suppressed. "But I thought you said you could help with that?"
"Yeah, I mean, how do you cure death? Everything has to end eventually." Danny said practically, before drawing a bit more tainted ectoplasm out. He stealthily replaced it with a cleaner source, a shot of ecto-dejecto he had absorbed as Phantom but didn't assimilate. "But don't worry, you're not dying again yet. You'll just become even more liminal."
"More?"
"Yeah. You were, by definition, a liminal. Now you'll just have more access to the traits- more in tune with your emotions, night vision, and a minor ability to manipulate ecto."
"I'm sorry, can we circle back on the fact that pit water is trying to fuse with my DNA?" Jason stressed. Danny took his hand out, treatment complete, and dusted them off.
"You don't have to worry about that either, since you've got a magic immune system in the form of... swords?" Danny’s brows furrowed, his senses making sense of the shape of magic.
"The All-Blades are cutting off pit water access." Jason sounded done. Exasperated at where he was in life... but really not all too surprised.
"...Sure?" Danny shrugged. The halfa has seen weirder shit than magic swords.
"Wait, you have magic?!" Dick reached over to grasp Jason's shoulder to shake him. Jason knocked his hands off, scowl becoming more prominent.
"Yeah, picked it up a while ago."
"And you didn't tell us?!"
In lieu of an answer, Jason summoned the All Blades and stabbed Dick, who yelped before realizing they just phased through him.
"Oh, you should use those more. They're purifying the ecto at a smaller quantity, but some is still better than none, right?" Danny said, pleasantly surprised. He ignored Dick’s outraged spluttering. “How interesting.”
Tim gathered his open jaw just to cheekily ask, "So, Jason's a magical girl? Usagi?"
Jason raised the one of the blades threateningly at Tim, who remained unfazed after watching them slide through Dick’s shoulder without leaving a trace of damage.
Danny laughed, "Hah! Nah, more like Madoka? If those are All-Blades, he’s supposed to kill evil with them…”
"Fuck off." Jason grumbled. Dick poked at the sword going through his shoulder in fascination. "Stop that."
"My baby brother is magical and he didn't tell meeeeeee!" Wailed Dick, flopping over Jason’s back like dead weight, hand clutched to his imaginary pearls as he swooned. Jason groaned, dismissing the blades to shove Dick off of him.
"Oh my god, this is why."
“Wait, have you tried stabbing Joker with them? If anyone’s pure evil, it’ll be that guy, right? No, but you’re a civilian… so you might get hurt,” Danny mumbled, huffing a grin as Jason gained a thoughtful look. Guess Danny knows what Red Hood’s gonna try next.
Tim ignored his dumbass brothers, finally done with the subtle tactics. Plus, he has to cut Danny off before he gives Jason any more bright ideas.
“You know, there’s been a rumor going around,” he started, only to get cut off by team Phantom’s impeccable timing. Danny’s open laptop rang with the blaring tones of a group call. The two idiots in the back stopped squabbling with each other, quieting down with interest.
“Oops, gimme a second.” Danny hurried to click the join call button, connecting to the video call. “Hello?”
“Hey, babe!” Tucker said brightly. In the background, Tucker could see Jason mouthing “babe?” to Tim, who shrugged. Dick’s face flashed into something intense before slipping back to its normal harmless facade.
“Sup, loverboy?” Sam chimed in, looking smug. “How’s my favorite boyfriend doing?”
Danny, leader of the gaslight gatekeep girlboss brainwave, naturally slipped into the banter. “Are you saying that ‘cause Tucker ate beef jerky in front of you?”
“Worse. He snuck a tourist t-shirt into my closet. My parents had a fit when they came to visit.”
“I said I was sorry, babe!” Tucker continued, looking actually regretful. Ah, this was something he actually did, as a prank.
“Whatever. Who’s the peanut gallery behind you, loverboy?” Sam buffed her nails, clearly in the middle of reapplying her signature nail polish.
Danny grinned. “Aweeee, is that the color shifting polish I got you? So you do love me!”
“We’re dating.”
If they hadn’t gotten the hint now, Danny would have to rescind their whole world’s best detectives titles.
“That’s our Sam, Danny. Prickly like a hedgehog but allll squishy on the inside.” Tucker snickered. “Seriously though, introduce us.”
Danny backed away from the camera. “This is Jason, Tim, and Dick. Guys, meet my wonderful boyfriend and girlfriend, Tucker and Sam.”
“Hi,” the three vigilantes chorused, looking awkward. Dick broke out of the atmosphere pretty quickly, used to controlling the mood.
“I’m Dick!”
“I’m sure,” drawled Sam. “Nice to meet you, even if we’ve met before.”
“You have?” Tucker and Danny asked.
“Yeah, at the galas. I doubt you’ll remember me.” Sam grimaced. “I was the miserable one in the pink frills.”
“Sam Mason?” Tim asked.
“Yep.”
The boys winced. “Rough.” Jason sympathized.
“Oh, yeah. Danny, how goes wooing Phantom?” Sam asked loudly, looking like she'd rather be discussing anything but the frilled monstrosity that haunted her nightmares.
“Oh, good! I think he’s warming up to me!”
“Ugh, babe, you fabulous fuck, why are you so charming? Why Phantom?” Tucker complained. Danny grinned.
“Come on, nerd, even you have to admit he’s hot.” Sam drawled, looking entertained.
“And majorly cool,” Danny chimed in, with a grin. Wow, Sam must really want Dr. Isley’s number. That, or she’s having a blast fucking with the peanut gallery. Their eyes were bouncing back and forth between Danny and the screen like they were at a tennis match. Or both. It's probably both.
“It’s so not cool to date one of my exes.” Tucker whined. “Plus, you know what he’s like.”
“What’s he like?” Dick asked, leaning in.
“Yeah, Danny won’t tell us anything,” Tim followed up seamlessly.
“Phantom? Hot. So. Hot. Super romantic too.”
"And an emotional mess. You'd never believe what-"
"Okay, seriously, it was one time!" He broke Tucker's system once, and he never let it go. Danny never got a break around here.
"Wait, if you liked him so much, why'd you break up with him?" Jason asked Sam. In Danny's peripherals, he could see Dick updating a group chat. It was going, as they say, swimmingly.
"Obviously I liked Danny more. But having all of them isn't too bad of an idea." Sam leaned back, looking as powerful as she normally does.
"But did it have to be Phantom?" Tucker sulked impressively. Then his eyes finally wandered to Tim. "Oh my god, Tim Drake. Danny, why don't you woo him?! Hey, Mr. Drake, are you interested in dating Danny? He brings terrible puns, smoking looks, and makes killer dinners. All you have to do in exchange is let me pick your brains."
Damn it, Danny knew Tucker was going to pull something like this.
"Uh-huh?" Tim flushed as his brothers cackled at his expense. "Sure..? Wait, what- I mean-"
"Sorry, Timsy. You're gonna have to fight Phantom for my hand. Considering you have no combat experience and Phantom's undead... rough, man."
"Danny, if you don't date him, I will," Tucker solemnly swore.
"Hey, get your grubby paws away from my little brother!" Dick tried to sternly warn them, effect broken by his own intermittent giggles.
"Yeah, you want to date him, you gotta go through the gauntlet." Jason said, muffling Tim's flustered protests with an arm.
"Challenge accepted." Danny paused. "Wait, did I just sign up to be Tim's boyfriend? Shit, Phantom's gonna kill me."
——
Danny texted a series of numbers to Sam. She left him on read.
Ah, maybe he shouldn't have introduced a budding ecoterrorist to a veteran one, but too late now!
——
If you notice any inconsistencies, no u don’t.
It’s been a while since I’ve written for this series though so… yk. Danny, verbally sealing himself into the trap while being chaotic. In character, me thinks.
#danny fenton#dcxdp#jason todd#dick grayson#tim drake#sam mason#tucker foley#danny the ecto leech#danny the ecto iv drip??#I wrote the trio and accidentally trapped myself#was gonna pair Danny with Tim#but that polycule looking real good rn#Tim and Danny watches anime together#fight me#their favorite is magical girl anime#bc the whimsy#have you seen madoka magica#that show is not for the weak of heart#if it's all over the place just know that it's intentional#this is how conversations with my friends go#we jump topics like pirates jumping off of a burning ship#with reckless abandon and mild fear#sea cryptic! danny au
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Hello… Can I ask for a sex pollen fic about Agatha x reader where reader is infected?
👀👀 I take a long time writng but here we go! First time writing sex pollen so it's relatively tame and consentual (considering sex pollen as a concept). I hope you enjoy! I'll be uploading the fully edited version on my AO3 in a few days (when I get around to it) 😚
Pairing: Agatha Harkness x F!Reader
Tags: established relationship, vaginal fingering, minor choking, sub!reader
"F-Fuck," you groan as you stumble into your home. "What- What was that?"
Agatha, who has an arm wrapped around your waist, keeps you support until the two of you make it inside. She waves a hand and shuts the door behind you.
"That, my dear," she says, rolling her eyes in frustration, "was sex pollen."
"What?!"
She guides you into a chair and starts bustling around your kitchen. You watch as she starts gathering random ingredients and tossing them into a pot.
"It's harmless," she says. "Well. Mostly. I should be able to brew an antidote."
You hope so. Because at this point, after stumbling your way back from the forest, your body has begun to tremble. Shivers roll down your spine and yet you aren't cold. Quite the opposite. Heat spreads through your chest, flushing your cheeks until they're a deep red.
And it doesn't stop there.
By the time Agatha looks over at you again, you have started to pant.
"Oh." She puts down the vial in her hand and crosses over to you. "Well. It seems to have taken quite a root in you, my love."
"What... What's happening to me?" you gasp.
She rests the back of her hand against your forehead to check your temperature but the feeling of her touch has heat rushing to your core. You moan despite yourself. And Agatha's eyes widen.
"Sex pollen is named for... well..." Her lips quirk in amusement as your plight. "The affects of has on the body. It's an aphrodisiac. And this one looks to be particularly strong."
Everywhere burns. You stare up at her, lips parting in a needy whine.
She takes your chin in her hand and tilts your head back, gazing down at you with dark eyes.
"T-The antidote?" you manage.
Your eyes slide past her to the potion ingredients discarded on the counter. Your pulse quickens and your palms feel sweaty.
"I could make it," she admits. "It would relieve your symptoms. But fortunately, there is a much easier solution, darling."
"And that is-?"
Agatha leans down and kisses you, hard. You moan at the feeling of her soft lips pressing against yours. She steps between your legs, bearing down on you, hands reaching to cup your face. It's amazing but you want more. You need more.
Agatha, as if sensing your pull, slowly lowers herself until she's kneeling between your legs, not breaking the kiss. Her hands lower from your face so she can squeeze your thighs.
"Aren't you a needy one?" she murmurs against your mouth.
"Fuck," you groan. "Agatha-"
"Careful, (Y/N)," she purrs. "You know I like it when you're desperate."
Heat pools between your legs and you shift in your seat, seeking any touch, any pressure to ease the ache of your pussy. You reach for her but she grabs your wrists.
"Agatha," you repeat. "Please. Please, oh god, I need you badly."
"I know." Her eyes flash purple. "Don't worry. I'll take good care of you."
You don't doubt it, not when she's looking like she wants to devour you. Agatha wasn't hit by the pollen and yet you can feel the burning desire coursing through her.
"Sit back, pretty girl," Agatha purrs. "Let's get this out of your system."
You expect her to kiss you again. What you don't expect it the wave of heat spreading through your skin. You grasp at her needily, desperate for any contact, any touch. And she's all too willing to give it to you.
Agatha's lips crash against yours, a mess of tongue and teeth, parting your mouth so she can press inside. She kisses you thoroughly until you've gone dizzy. Or perhaps that's just the sex pollen getting to you. She tugs at your bottom lip until it stings.
"Agatha," you gasp. "Please-!"
"Hush," she murmurs. She trails a hand down your chest, teasing the thin layer of fabric separating the two of you. "Let me play."
Play? It doesn't feel like playing, not as she's grabbing you over your clothes. Agatha always has been a tease. She enjoys riling you up until you whimper and beg, likes the power play of holding that desire right out of your reach. Except today, you don't need the build up or foreplay. You're already soaking and needy for her.
Agatha kisses a line across your cheek until she reaches your jaw. She sucks a hard mark into your skin and hums her appreciation.
She continues down, along the column of your throat, down to the neckline of your shirt. You grab the bottom and tug it over your head.
"Delightful," Agatha says, and her eyes gleam.
Her hands roam over you and you arch into her palms. She slips a hand under your bra, taking a greedy handful as you moan. It doesn't take her long to take it off completely and then her mouth is on you.
"Fuck!" you gasp. "Agatha, oh my-!"
That wicked tongue flicks over your hardened nipple as she takes it between her lips. Any word you could have gasped is erased from your mind. All you know is her and her lips.
Reaching out blindly, you find her wrist and drag it between your legs, desperately seeking the press of her inside you.
"Oh, you poor thing," Agatha breathes. "Soaking through your clothes, are you?"
You bite your lip and groan as she presses her fingers along the length of fabric. You're so sensitive that each motion has your hips jumping, seeking more, wanting her. You look at her, words coming up in a whine.
"I need you," you gasp. "So badly. Please. Please. Just- Anything."
Agatha pauses for a moment and you see the cruel flash of her eyes. She has you completely at her mercy.
But she takes pity on you, pressing a gentle kiss on your lips.
"Anything for you, my love."
It takes her moments to undo the button of your pants and to slide her hand inside but those moments feel like eternity. Your chest rises and falls in needy pants, hands falling to grasp the chair beneath you. Good, because you need to support as her fingers find your wet pussy, soaked through your underwear.
Agatha teases at first, circling your entrance, not pushing inside like you want.
"Agatha-!" you whine.
Her free hand catches you around the throat and she pins you back to the armchair with a powerful arm. She smiles at you.
"Now, now. Let me."
Your throat bobs against her palm as you surrender to her.
The tips of her fingers press to where you need it most and you moan, hips stuttering against her. This time, she does indulge you. Two fingers slide into you and it's heavenly. You take her gracefully as she starts to thrust.
Harder, faster, she quickly finds a rhythm that has your nails digging into the arms of the chair.
"Yes, oh god! Just like that!" you moan.
She leans down and kisses you, drinking your moans as she thrusts her fingers in your wet pussy. She is devastating in all the right ways, able to play your body until you can't help yourself. Every nerve feels like it's on fire and you're going to explode.
The noises that you're making is filthy but you could hardly care. Not when she's knuckle deep in you, destroying you from the inside out.
"Go ahead, my love," Agatha murmurs.
You cry out her name as you come. She kisses you again, swallowing your noises of pleasure. She murmurs something to you, a note of praise, but you don't hear it exactly. Not as the blood rushes around your ears and your heart sings for her.
"Fuck," you mumble. "That was..."
"Good," Agatha finishes. "But not enough to satisfy you."
You open your mouth to refute it but you feel the warmth simmering in your gut. The crave, the desire for more. She hasn't pulled out yet, fingers still inside you. You squirm, cheeks flushing.
"Don't worry," Agatha says, as she sinks to her knees. "I'll make sure to flush every bit of that pollen from your system."
And you don't doubt that she will.
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In the Shadows of Desire - part I
- azriel x day court!reader
- synopsis: When a dark magic is found in the border of Day and Night Helion sends his second-in-command to the Night Court. After getting off on the wrong foot with Rhysand's moody shadowsinger, can you guys find a way to work together to stop the threat without tearing each other apart?
—
You consider yourself to be a rather calm and rational individual, at least that's what you told yourself as you launched your right shoe at your highlord's head. That bastard. You were angry. Angry with Helion, angry with yourself for wasting 375 years working for such self-centred, no-good, piece of-
"You will go to the night court and carry out this mission. You will work with Rhysand's team to conduct whatever research I need you to conduct and go on any missions that they deem necessary. Frankly, you are the most competent person that I employ and I don't trust anyone else with a mission of this caliber. This position requires you to be in the night court indefinitely, and that is final." Helion looked as grim as you have ever seen him. In all the years you have been friends, he's never pulled rank like this.
You can't believe he's trying to send you away after everything you've been through together. A minute of silence lapses and you finally reply, "Do I at least get to chose the style of dress I'll be donning or will you be making that decision for me too? Has our work together here in day been for nothing? You are my closest friend and confidante is my position so miniscule to you that you think you can ship me off at a moments notice?"
Helion was the highlord but everyone in their right mind knows that you run Day as much as he does and that you have been prepared on a multitude of ocassions to lay your life down for its wellbeing and people. Your eyes burned with unshed tears, but you refused to look away you needed him to know how angry you are, you need him to know that you'll go, but not without a fight or a reason.
Pensiveness coats your face, you slow down and take a breath and tell him, "If you're going to send me away, I need to at least know the reason why. I know you Helion, stop lying to me. I know this pains you as it does me, now tell me why exactly you need to send me to another court for god knows how long."
Helion has never had a good poker face. This shows at his failed attempt to feign indifference, when in reality doubt (and a bit of fear?) coat his features, he takes a breath and slowly says, "There's a dark magic in Prythian, I don't know what it is or what's causing it. Rhys and I can both feel it, and we don't know what it is or how it will manifest. Creatures have been seen in the land, one's straight from the stories that mother's would tell their young to keep them out of the woods. So far they've only been seen in the forests that borders night and day. You're the best I have and Rhys has the most extensive library on dark magic because of the Night Court's history with the prison. I need you go to investigate and try to figure out what's causing this. If it ensures your safety and the rest of Day's, then I will send you off to another court for as long as it takes."
You exhale the breath that's been you hadn't realised had been caught in your throat. Helion is rarely serious, preferring to run his court in a lighthearted and fun manner, which only makes the situation that much more alarming.
You meet his gaze and earnestly respond, "Okay I'll go. Thank you for telling me, the burden of this information is too heavy to bear alone." You rarely treat Helion with the level of respect that expected of a high lord, but you find yourself bowing to him out of respect and a sense of duty. "It has been an honour to work with you. I look forward to reassuming my position when I return."
You walked out of the throne room, alone for the first time that I can remember.
-
The next few days were a blur. You had gotten all your affairs in order. You attempted to train the other members of Helion's staff to handle your duties (which seemed to be neverending) to the best of their ability, you threatened to place various curses upon Helion as the consequences that you will bestow upon him if he doesn't regularly write you back, and packed up the only life you have ever knew. You had never been away from Day longer than a short trip, the blood of Day ran through your veins, you didn't know how you were going to be away from your court for so long.
Although if you were going to be working with any other highlord you're relived that it's Rhysand. When your parents died in the war fighting in the Day court army, Helion took you in and raised you as his own. You and Rhysand being roughly the same age meant that at every political gathering or ball you would always be causing some sort of mischief. There was one particular year where the both of you were still learning how to control your powers, and wanted to see how much dessert you could winnow out of the banquet which ended up in a not so pleased highlord of autumn covered in pastry cream.
With the aftermath of under the mountain and the war, it has been a while since you've been able to properly speak with Rhysand. Maybe this new position will give you guys a chance to grow closer. You tried to think of any other pros of this move, while Helion loaded up the last of your things and held his hand out to winnow you to night. You had already said goodbye to your friends and courtiers in Day, so you took a deep breath, took his hand, and closed your eyes.
You opened your eyes to see snowcapped mountains, backdropped by stars so intense in a way you had never seen them before, and a glimmering city that spanned in all directions. It was beautiful. You just stood there in awe of the view.
You were so mesmerised you almost didn't notice the small black tendril snaking around your wrist, snapping you out of your daze. You didn't notice that while you had been nervously tapping your fingers. The smoky tendril had held your hand steady, with a surprisingly soft touch. It looked as though it would've been cold, but the floating slither of night was a comforting touch that helped ease your nerves. Cat-like in its motion, the shadow circles up your arm and goes to whisper something in your ear when it stops suddenly like a deer in the headlights. Seemingly spooked the tendril scurries into your shadow and disappears from sight. Stray wisps of darkness just floating around, is this normal here in night?
-
Your thoughts were interrupted by a mischievous voice you knew all too well. "Curious things the shadows are. They rarely ever wander around without their master, you'll meet him soon enough. Long time no see." You turn around to see Rhysand in all his highlord glory, sauntering in with a welcoming grin. He comes up and gives you and Helion a greeting hug. "It's always good to see you Rhys." You grinned in reply. You were suddenly very thankful that this supernatural commotion was not occurring in autumn as you would not be this excited to see Beron.
Rhysand showed you both around the palace, which was seemingly empty of his inner circle that you had gotten glimpses of during the years. You then spent hours drinking and laughing and catching up. It was morning now and Helion needed to return back to his court. "Do take care of yourself. I may not be with you but Day will always be." Helion looks as if he's fighting back tears. You embrace and say your goodbyes before he finally departs back to day.
The exhaustion of staying up all night finally hits and you ask Rhysand to take you to your quarters so you can finally sleep. "I told for the millionth you we're good friends please just call me Rhys." He says after hearing you call him Rhysand as you had always been fond of calling him by his full name, partly to annoy him but he didn't need to know that. "Okay Rhys, can I go to bed now?" You had already been at your door going back and forth, while sleepiness had you in it's clutches. He chuckles, "Yes okay. I'll see you tomorrow and formally introduce you to all the members of my inner circle. They can be a lot... so for now try to get some rest." He said as he closed the door to your room leaving you alone for the first time in your life.
You knocked out as soon as your head hit the pillow, the emotions and exhaustion starting to get to you. You hadn't let yourself breathe since you found out you would be going to night, either from worrying about how Day is going to be without you or how bad the unknown threat is to Prythian. So when you slept you didn't awake until it was pitch dark outside. You had no idea what time it was and had almost forgotten why you weren't in day.
It seemed you had slept through the day, which your stomach was protesting. Groggy and famished, you set out on your mission to find food. Right after opening the door, you saw what appeared to be the same tendril from the previous night. It started swirling around excitedly when it saw that you spotted it and made almost a beckoning motion to follow it. You were honestly too tired to question how sentient a shadow was and if it knew you were hungry so you decided to follow it.
Believe it or not, the shadow actually led you down the stairs and into the kitchen. Excitedly you went to start raiding all the cabinets, only to realise that they were all empty. Tired and hungry, you thought you were having a rough night until a pouting Illyrian warrior walked in, looking like he had gone to war and back. His mood was so sour, that it looked as if grey storm clouds should have been floating above his head. You were trying your best to blend into the background, terrified of facing the possibility of his wrath when a cup of tea slams down on the counter out of nowhere. This frightened you to the point that you jumped and spilled the tea all over the counter, which magically disappeared in the same way that the mug appeared but still drew his attention to you. His hazel eyes were daggers that bore into your skin and you would've thought him to be beautiful if he weren't scowling at you and your mishap. He was about to reach for his dagger, when a small look of realization flashed over his eyes.
"You must be Helion's guest from day." He looks you up and down, maintaining a look of indifference on his face. "The house conjures whatever you need, you don't need to scour through the cabinets like a starved animal." He says coldly. Shadows mirroring the one who brought you here emanated from his very being. You turned to your side and noticed that the shadow that had brought you here had been cowering in your shadow. Well you could see why the shadow would hide from him if he was normally as unpleasant as he is right now. "I totally knew that. I was just curious as to what was in the cabinets." You were lying and he probably knew it, but you didn't want to give him the satisfaction of your incompetence.
He raises a brow in response. You refuse to break his gaze, no matter how intimidating it is. In response to your little stare-off, the house plops down two full mugs of hot chocolate with whipped cream. This again makes you jump. "By the Cauldron-" He just eyes you weirdly, as if mugs of hot chocolate falling from the sky is normal. There is nothing that ticks you off more than rude individuals, Helion has always taught you to introduce yourself to people and win them over via conversation. You're fairly popular in the political world able to charm and talk your way out of anything, even a grumpy Illyrian. You smile and hold out the mug with the least amount of spillage, "Nice to meet you. I assume you're one of the members of Rhys' inner circle, thank you for welcoming me into your home." He just takes the mug and starts to slowly sip it, that bastard. Nothing?
He just meets your gaze again, and while he didn't seem as visibly upset as he did when he first got in here his feature's were schooled into a mask of almost complete indifference. He just looks at you, nods, and says "Azriel" before turning around and walking off into the shadows. Offended at his lack of manners you scoff and start hoping that the rest of Rhysand's court is not rude or as odd as Azriel, apparently since you assumed he was telling you his name. All you knew is that you were going to have a very interesting time in Night and your time there hadn't even started yet.
-
note: this has literally been sitting in my drafts since october. I'll go back and proof read it later, but it just needs to be out at this point. I never realised how long writing takes... but oh well at least she's out now. Hopefully part 2 will not take nearly as long.
#azriel x you#azriel fic#azriel fanfic#azriel x reader#azriel shadowsinger#azriel#acotar fic#acotar fanfic#azriel acotar#azriel x female!reader
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BEEP BOOP ITS ME
Can I request “It’s hard to sit here and be close to you and not kiss you.” And “ meet me in my dreams and stay for a while.” With Yunho please 👁️👁️
Hello Love <3 don't melt too much reading it mkay?
Pairing: Yunho x gender ambiguous reader Genre: fluff, boyfriend!Yunho, idol!Yunho Rating: G/PG, E for Everyone, whatever you want to call it Word Count: 591 Contains: an absolutely gut-wrenching amount of fluff, a proposal, and a kiss, that's about it
"I don't want you to leave. I miss you so much every time you have tours." You whine at your boyfriend as the day turns to night.
Sitting on the rooftop and watching the sun slip fully behind the horizon, you sigh. Although you've always preferred the night and its glistening stars, this night brings alongside its beauty the reminder that Yunho flies out as the sun rises in the morning.
"I know, bun. Believe me, if I had the choice to bring you without putting any risk on you, I would never leave you behind. Ever."
He turns towards you with an intensity in his eyes you haven't seen in years; one you only witnessed directed at you when he insisted that, if you agreed to brave a relationship with him six years ago, he'd keep you safe from over-attached fans no matter what. You cannot help as your heartbeat speeds up; you cannot move nor look away despite the goosebumps attacking your body and trying to make you shiver. Time halts in the beat of silence before his next statement.
"I would love to keep you by my side forever. In this life and the next. Awake, asleep, no matter the time."
He pauses, but your nerves built up under his gaze cannot handle even the smallest moment of silence, so words stumble out from your lips, "Then, meet me in my dreams and stay for a while. That way, it won't feel so lonely while you're gone in the waking world."
Your comment seems to loosen him up a bit. His eyes soften, and he cracks a smile as a chuckle breaks through his seriousness. Shaking his head at himself, seemingly dismissing thoughts he was holding to himself, he finds his words again.
"Gladly. I'll find you in your dreams and on any other plane of existence we end up in. No matter how long it takes, I will always find you. Whether it's in a sea of people or amongst the thousands of stars above, I am yours so I will find you. So, if you'll allow me, I'd like to leave you with more than just dreams of me."
He reaches into his pants pocket and pulls out a small jewelry box. Twisting his body completely in your direction, he ends upon one knee. Your breath catches in your throat and your senses still as he opens the box to reveal a ring even more gorgeous than you imagined. He implemented every little comment you've made about rings over the past years and added personalized touches that only Yunho could bring to life.
"Y/N, will you marry me?"
The tears clog your throat, and you already lost control of your body moments before his question, so you can't respond despite screaming 'yes' inside repeatedly.
"It is so hard to sit here and be this close to you and not kiss you right now. Even a small head movement will do if you can't speak."
The silly smile on his face gives you enough control to nod vigorously, so he leans over immediately and kisses you deeply before remembering the order he was supposed to go. Backing up slightly, he finds the proper hand and slips the ring on your finger.
"Y/N, you are perfect. I'm so far beyond happy that you're mine."
"I will be yours forever if you let me. As long as you can be mine forever, too."
"That sounds like a deal, and I will gladly shout it out to everyone, my love."
#kpop scenarios#kpop imagines#ATEEZ scenarios#ATEEZ imagines#ATEEZ drabble#jeong yunho#ATEEZ yunho#ateez fluff#yunho fluff#yunho imagines#yunho scenarios#yunho drabble
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HeartBeat Sync Part 32
Getting Ready To Go
TRIGGER WARNINGS: unprotected sex (bad), gentle lovemaking, body worship, oral (f!receiving)
After swiftly crashing after returning to the hotel suite, Y/N woke up to find herself entangled between San and Yeosang in her master suite. She didn't remember them ending up here, but that may have been due to drinking a bit too much celebratory champagne the night before.
She remembered bits and pieces of the previous night. Sitting around and talking. Drinking. Mingi causing a ruckus about something. She remembered requesting to see the pictures but Hongjoong said there was a surprise and she would see them soon. Curious.
Sensing she was awake, San pulled her closer and snuggled into her hair. He looked so adorable and pouty in his sleep. It made it very hard not to kiss those lips but she didn't want to wake him up. Yeosang startled awake and saw the scene in front of him.
"Morning sweetheart. I am going to go make some tea for this headache. Did you want anything?" He stroked her side with his delicate fingers.
"No thank you. I don't think I will be released for a while and honestly am embracing the extra sleep." Y/N slowly turned in San's embrace until she was able to look at Yeosang. She tried to do it slowly but still the gentle giant was disturbed.
"Don't go." San whined softly.
Yeosang shook his head, bending to give Y/N a quick kiss on the lips before leaving the bedroom. It was sad to see him go but a nice view as he left. He turned to wink at her as he closed the door.
San began to wiggle behind her, pulling her impossibly closer, breath soft in her ear. The warmth of him swiftly pulled her back into a sweet sleep.
She woke once again to soft kisses being placed on her neck and hands grazing her belly. God it felt good. Sensing her response, he moaned softly in her ear.
"Mmm good morning angel." One arm wrapped in a bear hug and the other played with the hem of her sleep shorts. She ground back against him and he took that as an invitation, dipping his hand down further while squeezing her breast.
"Sannie."Y/N sighed as he inched his hand down to where she wanted it most. Softly rubbing her clit, he moaned in her ear.
"Already so wet for me darling. My god you are beautiful." With that, he pulled her shorts off and laid her on her back, hovering over her. The look of love in his eyes made her heart skip a beat.
"I am so glad you didn't leave us. I don't know what I would have done." His hand gently stroked her face and he leaned down to graze his lips across hers. "I know this is all new and happening fast but I know how I feel and I know that you know too." He kissed her again, this time pouring all of his love and devotion into it and through the bond.
Tears welled in her eyes and she wrapped her legs around his waist, pulling him closer.
"I'm so sorry baby. I won't leave you. I love you."
Y/N moaned as San began kissing her neck. Slowly lifting her shirt, his kisses softly made their way down her body, each kiss echoed by words of affirmation. "So soft." "So beautiful" "Look at these curves." "Look how beautiful my mark is on you." This last statement was made with a bit of a growl in his voice.
"Ah Sannie you feel so good." Y/N whimpered as she now writhed, naked, under his touch.
"Mmm darling I am just worshipping the goddess that you are." His kisses had reached the apex of her thighs. Quickly scooting backwards so he was now standing at the end of her bed. Grabbing her ass, he slid her body down the bed, lifting her pussy so it hovered in front of his face as he stood. He held her as if she weighed nothing.
Staring at her as he slowly lifted her to his lips, she left a slap of sudden lust that had her gasping. "That's my girl." Without any further hesitation, he dove in and began slowly licking her, seeming to savor every taste. Being unable to wiggle too much in his strong grasp, Y/N grabbed her breasts and tried to restrain her moans from how good his kitten licks felt.
Resting her ass on his pecs, he maneuvered one hand around to where his hand lay on her belly and his thumb circled her clit harshly. With her pelvis sandwiched between his cheat and his strong hand, she was unable to add to the friction. His tongue dove deep into her, its curving strokes driving her closer and closer to bliss.
"Oh god San! So good! Just like that." She tried to keep her volume down but it was getting harder to do as she was reaching her peak.
"Mmm good girl helping me take care of you. We need to be quiet, alright? Don't want the others woken up." His voice vibrating against her folds just kept her on edge. She nodded and he quickly dove back in, increasing his pace and tightening his grip. "Come on baby. Give it to me."
She gasped harshly as his words pulled her over the precipice. Waves of pleasure overcame her and San gently placed her body back on the bed as he placed a soft kiss on the inside of each thigh. Climbing back over her, his face wet with her release, he kissed his way back up her body until their mouths collided once again. He groaned as the kiss deepened.
"Are you ready for me pretty girl?" He looked at her with an intense stare as she felt him line himself up with her.
"Yes" she whispered. She kept eye contact with him and saw the pupils dilate in his chocolate eyes as he entered her. He stretched her in the best way.
"Oh my god angel. I feel you. This is incredible." He began to rock into her slowly, grabbing one of her thighs to change the angle. No other words needed to be said as they could feel everything between each other. As his pace increased, he kept looking at her face, watching every micro-reaction and adjusting accordingly to idealize her pleasure.
"Baby, I need you to cum for me. I'm so close." he said in a soft voice bordering on a whine. His desperation was what it took to drive her over the edge once again. He swiftly followed, pulling her into an embrace while grunting in her ear. "Oh my fucking god."
Returning his embrace, Y/N kissed up and down the column of his neck until the aftershocks faded.
"Oh my god Sannie...that was..." "Incredible" he said while muffled by her pillow.
She giggled as he peppered her neck in kisses. "Come here baby." He picked her up, still connected, and carried her to the bathroom. Starting up the shower, he placed her on the bench on the far side so she would not be pelted by the cold water. It was hard not to stare at the god standing in front of her. He was divine and he knew it. He smirked at her as he noticed her watching.
"Come here baby. The water is warm now." He held her hand and guided her under the water stream, turning Y/N so her hair was under it. Once he was satisfied, he washed her hair and conditioned it, peppering her face and neck with kisses and praising her. As he washed her body with the washcloth, he got down on his knees, making sure every inch was washed and worshipped.
Once she was completely clean, she returned the favor. Running her hands over every sculpted part, she wondered what she had ever done to be this lucky. Washing his hair, she turned the sudsy hair into a mohawk and they both let out belly laughs. After both were clean, they towelled off and kissed over and over. She couldn't get enough.
San sighed and looked down at her. "Darling, as much as I would love to stay like this all day and exploring every inch of you, we need to talk about how to get you home and ready to come home with us." That last part was said with an increasingly wide smile.
"Do we have to right now?" San faced them both towards the mirror and wrapped both his arms around her neck.
"Yes baby. We will just have to sneak some more time together in the new house." He shot her a wink, released her, and left the room. She hurried and got dressed to try to get going. Grabbing her phone, she saw it was already 10 am. Running into the living area, she saw all of the other members already had their bags packed and piled by the front door. The clothing racks that had travelled with them were in the front lobby.
Y/N began to panic with all she had left to do. "Oh my god guys I am so behind! I was supposed to schedule studio time today and I haven't packed and I have to book a flight home and..."
Yunho got up and grabbed her shoulders. "Baby! It's okay! Hongjoong scheduled an afternoon flight for tonight so you can go home and gather your stuff. TYou can pack and use Hongjoong's studio when you get back since you only need to polish the track up right? We have a week before we have to be home baby. Don't worry. You aren't burdening or inconveniencing anyone. It is OKAY." He offered Y/N a soft smile and wrapped an arm around her shoulders.
She sighed in relief and nodded. "Sorry guys. Just a lot at once. I can use the studio anywhere I guess." The guys chuckled. "I can help you pack if you want honey." Yeosang offered while sipping his tea.
"No no it's okay. I've got it. Thank you though. She ran up and kissed Yeosang's cheek before walking back to her room to gather all her stuff. After packing the few items that were strewn around her master suite, she brought her bag and placed it with the others.
Hongjoong looked up from where he was texting on the sofa. "You ready to go home, firebird?"
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Taglist: @vtyb23 @addi-3 @nuggiesnuggetdog04 @yeosangsluthousewife @tyungelic @psychosupernatural @mygsis @mrsminseochoi
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Catching Up: Let Free the Curse of Taekwondo (Ep 3)
Ep 1 React Ep 2 React
So fun facts....I haven't found a place to buy garlic ice cream locally, but there are A LOT of recipes for garlic ice cream on the internet. I do own an ice cream machine. We make homemade ice cream a lot in the summer. I sense an experiment coming up soon.
Anyways, onto episode 3. I am not doing a live reaction for this one. I had to wait over two hours for an oil change and decided to go ahead and watch episode 3. Controlling my facial expressions has never been harder. Although maybe I didn't need to try. Half of the people I know think that I'm a robot anyways. LOL. Anyways, I FELT like I was making a lot of facial expressions because...well just look at them!
There are no more qualms about sharing saliva. I love it btw that Dohoe keeps showing up with his chapstick. These kinds of small details are what make characters seem like real people. I'm known as the person who always have sunglasses (safety glasses really) on my head. No, I don't need them for work. It's just a habit. I'm also LOVING the color-coding. I haven't dove into the posts about this show, but I guarantee there was talk about them being color-coded.
THIS is what I want from a date sequence in a show people. THIS RIGHT HERE. GIVE ME MORE. I said in one of the BL Challenge posts that I frequently fast forward through the dating montages. Because typically they DON'T add any narrative or even show your characters really deepening their feelings. I want dates that FEEL like dates. This was it, and there was ice cream too! I should've just stopped the episode right here.
But alas, I didn't. And somehow, I'll still have to get work done today.
We got confirmation that Sunshine got expelled for fighting.
We got confirmation that Dohoe REALLY hates violence.
On the surface, this line SEEMS sweet. It IS sweet. But it's a bittersweet. Because what Dohoe is admitting is that he loves Sunshine enough to compromise his morals. And just like he didn't want to care to begin with, he will be conflicted about it. It WILL be a problem for him down the line. Because even if you're willing to overlook something, it doesn't necessarily make you feel good about doing it.
And we know that promise will be broken. I knew he would get in trouble for violence before this episode ever started. The foreshadowing has been strong.
Just like the foreshadowing on this line is strong. As soon as they said it, I was like crap. We're not going to be together. Either one or both of them is going to get their plan screwed up royally. My biggest fear was that Dohoe would be the one left behind. Because Sunshine? As much as he SAYS he doesn't have options, he really does. His family may have "abandoned" him, but they are still financially supporting him and calling him every day. Dohoe? Nada.
The watermelon is great here. I LOVE how much food is depicted in this show. This was a cute scene and reminded me that I need to finish my deep dive into soccer/football positions/rules before the next episode of FC Soldout. It also immediately made me think about the World Cup scene in Wild Chives and Soybean Soup.
It's a het drama that I don't recommend. Them as teenagers was great, but the rest was not. I guarantee it has aged poorly. However, I enjoyed that flash from the past. I looked it up. Apparently that drama was 10 years ago. Eesh. The feelings in both of these scenes were similar in that they are very young love and people just not sure how to handle it.
I love that they're training together and having secret meetings in the van. Everything about this feels SO much like what two teenagers in love would do. I squeed internally way too many times.
I'm beginning to sound like a broken record, but the amount of food in this series makes me SO happy. Real people eat. Real people making connections eat together. It's probably personal, but eating a meal with someone is a BIG deal to me. Many of my best memories with both friends and my children are over shared meals. Oddly enough - that doesn't include my husband. We don't enjoy the same foods and he eats super quickly. Fine, I'll revise. MOST people build connections by eating together, and these two DEFINITELY do.
Whoever chose RED for the phone understood the color assignment.
This guy has a problem. I'm assuming we'll learn more later about why this friendship went so badly south. Still...choices HAVE been made. Do-hoe is being a lot more civil than I feel he should; however, that seems in character for him.
It was at this point that I knew we were headed for trouble soon. Anytime the word "always" gets used, that's a red flag for me. Plus, look at HOW happy Do-hoe is at this moment. It shocked Sunshine, and you KNOW he was wanting to pursue that kiss further.
I'll be honest. I haven't figured out why we're seeing Sunshine in a school uniform just yet. The bike was when Do-hoe said he could succeed here. The other was in the scene where Sunshine was being beat, and it LOOKED like he was actually holding the Dad back. Was Daddy Dearest going to try to stop Do-hoe from taking the exam? Or am I reading too much into it. Either way, you can tell that Sunshine snapped.
Which led to our frenemies in the snow. Snow has definitely been a running parallel throughout the show. Typically, it's been hope, connection and even innocence. But it feels like the hope has been tainted through this scene. It also feels like this means we're getting a new beginning for these two frenemies. I can't be sure of that though.
My only question here was "WHO THE FUCK TOLD HIM?!?" Let the boy FINISH the exam before telling him anything. Whoever told him - you are on my hitlist.
We got new information that Sunshine was adopted. That's interesting. It could explain some things about why he so desperately wants his parents to be proud, but I don't have enough evidence. It's not uncommon for kids to want to please their parents after all.
This camerawork is SO good. Do-hoe has scared himself. He's seeing his reflection while his dad leaves the shot. It's him and his rage left behind. Plus, he doesn't like this reflection. This is NOT going to go well. Because THIS? This will scare him. He'll begin to think he could become his dad, and that's going to get all kinds of entangled with his feelings about Sunshine. It's real world feelings depicted well.
And now we have HISTORIC cold. And yes, it snowed. But everything is messed up.
And while I generally dislike time skips...
This one feels appropriate. This is when a time skip SHOULD be used. Based on where they were in life, the technology in that time period, and the situation that has occurred, this time skip makes sense. It'll be interesting to find out where they are now in life.
We know Sunshine is smiling. But sunshine characters often smile even when in pain (he's already done that frequently). We don't see Do-hoe. That feels purposeful. In some ways we knew sunshine would be okay. (I'm not saying emotionally okay.) It's Do-hoe, who didn't finish his exam, who had no other options, who is stuck. He's the unknown. Hopefully, he found a way out. But he's going to be scarred either way. I'm hoping now that we've had the time-skip that the rest is them overcoming the past and growing together as mature adults. We'll see.
AHHH. Why do we have to adult? Can't I just take a day off and binge-watch? This is infinitely more interesting than what I need to write this afternoon. Oh well. Bills must be paid.
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There was a sense of relief that filled Cage as Cordelia talked about not wanting to schedule this pregnancy, knowing that it was something that had weighed heavily on him. This couldn't be scheduled or planned, not like her school, his work, their childrens' day to day lives, this had to happen when it happened, naturally. When the time was right. "I don't want to have sex to make a baby," Cage chose his words carefully, narrowing his eyes as he thought it over, "I want to get pregnant because on a random Wednesday night, you looked at me a certain way and I kissed you a little too long in the hallway and it just happened, you know?" His voice was softer as he said it, almost a little shy, but he didn't want or need the fanfare. If they couldn't pinpoint the exact moment that they had made a baby because it was borne out of the love between them, then that was more than enough for him, and he paused for a moment, emotion thickening his tone the tiniest amount as he pulled his teeth from the lip that he had bitten onto while thinking and spoke, drawing in a breath, "as sad as I am about what happened and always will be, there's a part of me that's relieved that I can do this right." It was tough to admit, and he didn't want to say it out loud, but felt like he needed to, felt like they had to go through every step of this honestly with one another. "You know that I will love our baby, no matter what, but there was a part of me that was… ashamed, that -- I don't know, that I left those bruises on your thighs and hips and got you pregnant when we were angry at each other and then reacted the way I did, that I couldn't just be happy, even though I wanted to. It's part of why I felt like it was my fault… that we lost the baby. Like maybe it was some sort of sick karma." Cage knew better, but it had still stuck in his gut, twisting beneath his ribs when he thought about it. And he had admitted it to her, but he hadn't been able to put words to it until everything had finally settled. Until he knew it wasn't true, until he had digested the news over and over again. He lifted his free hand to brush at the corner of his eye, not realizing that they had become wet, blaming it on the slight breeze that day before he let out a laugh, shaking his head, "no, nothing like that. You know better than anyone what you can handle, but I'm going to step in and put my foot down if I catch you trying to carry around hay bales at eight months pregnant, and I think that's fair. Instead, you can watch me haul around the hay bales and spend time with your best friend Twix. How's that?"
Cage's face scrunched up as Cordelia talked about the possibilities of cravings, making note of what she would and would not want, and how fast that could change, holding his breath before letting it out. "Too late to change my mind, I guess?" But he was only joking, knowing that nothing about her cravings would ever push him to take back the decision that he had made, even if she woke him up at three in the morning with an elbow in the ribs and wanted pickle flavored something or other that made him gag at the thought of it. He'd find a way through it. "I think that's part of why it's important to talk to them now," he squeezed her hand as he said it, "to understand how they are going to feel about it, and have the time to talk to them and make them understand how we feel about it -- or try. It's better that we're all able to talk than to just drop it in their laps." Telling the boys that Cordelia was pregnant, that they were having a baby, without giving them any indication that they were trying might have come across as though they didn't care about their opinions, that they were moving on with their lives. "I think…" he wet his lips, "maybe telling them that we want to have a baby because we feel like we have the perfect family to love them, to help raise them and take care of them will help them realize that they're a part of it, does that make sense?" he looked down at his wife, "that the only reason we feel like we can do this is because we know how good they are, how much they love each other, and we feel like it's the right environment for them to love another little girl or boy." That was the catch, that this wouldn't just be Cage and Cordelia's biological son or daughter, that this little one wouldn't be any better or more important than any other Newman or Austin or Browning under that roof -- but it would be Shawn and Colton and Cienna and Rosalyn's little brother or sister, it would be as much a part of them as it was their parents. He rolled his own eyes playfully as she talked about the clothes disappointment, and then stole another kiss, before he found himself browsing the little shop, enjoying a few items here and there, but ultimately letting her lead him back down the sidewalk, until… oh no, shiny. "Wait up," he groused on a laugh, heading in after her and knowing that she was going to make a beeline for the sparkly things, coming to a stop behind her with both hands gently resting on her hips, body brushing against hers from behind as he looked over her shoulder at the pieces she had been drawn to from outside.
It was really more amusing how so much could change, but such simple things could stay the same. Even if it was something as silly as swatting someone's hand away from a few fries could make you laugh and remember those sweet memories. "We can get you a new desk calendar if you want, probably a good idea to update it, or at the very least throw out your old one because that last year one isn't going to help you anymore." she pointed out. Though those weren't exactly the first priorities when there had been so much going on in the last few months to really worry about anything else. Giving a roll of her eyes, "No, I wouldn't get one for all pregnancy related things, that would just become unhealthy, tracking ovulation, periods, when we have sex, that becomes.... a job, and regardless that we have decided we want this, we want to try I don't want it to become a job or an obligation to have sex." Sex for them had always been intimate, even when angry, there was always a connection, she didn't want it to become a business transaction because they were hoping to add a little one to their family now. "I appreciate that you're not going to let me do anything too strenous so long as you don't treat me like I'm broken because that will upset me." She had survived a pregnancy by herself with practically no one, worked right up till going into labor. Not that she knew Cage would want that for her this time around, he'd want to give her everything. "I never was in any danger, I am just saying you pointed out that she thought I was competition, when she didn't realize it was never a competition, I was always going to win." she quipped giving a short nod as if that was the best obvious explanation and that was that.
"You're very right chances are when I'm craving something it's going to be in the moment and very much I want it now, not oh let me go make it and then eat it. By that time I probably will be craving something completely different and upset that I just made all this stuff I no longer want to eat." Which obviously would be very upsetting to a pregnant and hormonal woman! She needed her good food. Nodding when he said it may not go perfectly but that both boys were incredibly mature, they loved their siblings, and there was no denying the boys were amazing, kind, gentle souls that would protect their little sisters no matter what. "I just hope they understand why we would want this but it doesn't change what they mean to us, you know? That it's not a replacement, or our "real" child." Giving a roll of her eyes because that was ludicrous. "Not too many toys we're starting to get overrun in the house with toys but I also know it's what they would want most. Clothes would not impress them in the slightest, which both makes me proud and disappoints me." Though Rosalyn and Cienna did love their sparkly dresses and shoes, regular every day clothes for surprise presents? Not the things they were looking for. "Such a smart man." she leaned in pecking his lips before ending the first store. They shopped around for a bit, going in and out of different stores picking up few different things here and there before stumbling upon a vintage shop seeing a case of jewelry. "Oh we should check in here." she said before taking off inside.
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this is going to sound sooo silly but I AM so!
I just want to be someone's pretty girl so bad:(
and not because I think i'm pretty, in fact I struggle with seeing that at all– but because someone just needs to adore me and cherish me and make sure I feel so seen, so important, that they just love making me feel special. in turn I get to be called something so soft and sweet and completely their's!
i'm just being emotional and dramatic but I wore a new sweater and did my hair differently today (not anything fancy just differently) and no one at work even spared a glance my way! not that I want attention from any of my coworkers lmao and yes I have the self image and confidence of a worn down run over piece of cement but it would be so nice to have someone to wake up to or come home to who wants to let me know they see me🥺
#this is basically my long winded way of saying I want someone to want me lol#I have never been someone's sweet girl or pretty girl and it genuinely is the only thing I long for#idc if that makes me sound pathetic because I am!#I don't know if this makes any sense but it's what's going through my head#all these romance novels I have been devouring are incredible until I realize I am not anything like these girls the fall HARD for#they are starting to make my........ heart ache#my expectations are high and my self worth non existent!#a bitch is lonely and empty and feeling worthless!#don't come in here with 'a man won't fix that' I KNOW let me just wallow in the feelings lol
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I don't have the authority or the seniority or any other -ority to vocally reproach people, and even if I did I'm not about that life, but I'm in the uncomfortable position of "I can't do some of My Shit if people don't do theirs first", and doing the others things slooowly only works so far. And oftentimes I'm sitting at my desk feeling like there's a guillotine hanging over me because I don't wanna get caught "slacking" and get in trouble. But I don't want to get other people in trouble either. Whack :|
#i cannot stress this enough i don't want to be Busy#the main problem is that time passes SUUUUPER slowly too when you have very little to do and since i don't really have the opportunity to#idk. fuck around on my phone if i finish early. i'm often left feeling with the desire to bash my head on my desk#why can't i fuck off early if i finished everything and there's nothing left for me to do. make it make sense. we live in a society#mytext#all this to say. it's 06:38 i woke up early as usual so that i could eat breakfast like any other issues-free human being#and i don'tttttttt want to go to work and i'm aware that i sound like an ass rn because. objectively. it's not a Problem considering what#some people go through etc i know i Know but. i still don't want to go arrrrrrgggghhhhh
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post. Post-posting clarity where you're like "wtf was I talking about". But also post-posting confusion where you're also like "wtf was I talking about" but it's less about your mental state While Posting and more about "okay. I've written many words. I remember. Approximately 20% of them. What the fuck are the rest of these?"
#I mostly get the latter bc I'm like ''i wrote so much wtf was I talking abouut'' NOT with a judgmental tone like#''oh this makes no sense this is nothing''#But rather it's me going.#''what did I just write?'' and the answer being ''i don't know. I'm scared''#Im wondering if it's an autism/adhd thing if ''i tend to get really fixated on something and when that thing is complex that it becomes#Really difficult or me to tell what I've typed out versus what I've been ruminating on- which can lead to me making similar posts/points#Because I'm trying to make sure I did Actually Write My Thoughts Down So I Dont Forget'' and is also something that happens in conversation#Because sometimes I script interactions in my head to the point I can't tell what's an Actual Memory Of An Interaction versus#My Prediction/Preparation For An Interaction which. Is not fun and feels bad.#OR if it's more of a memory issue/maybe brain fog thing where my brain straight up Doesn't Form The Memory Properly or doesn't let me#Fucking. What's the word. Idk maybe I have some kinda fuckin cognitive dysfunction that makes it really hard to think through what I say#So I just try to power through because otherwise I'll get stuck and forget. Maybe it's both?#Anyway w the cognitive dysfunction/brain fog thing I've been kinda wondering if I have like. Idk some form of trauma to my brain because#Like. It's not uh. Obviously externally noticable I guess but like. When I started noticing my issues it like. Maybe that could be a reason#Ofc it may be my Other Disorders but I tend to fixate on Possible Diagnosed For Things. And while I don't have any concrete like#''that was definitely a TBI'' things there are some things where it's like. ''hm. That might be significant''#ANYWAYS speaking of memory I am garbage at self reporting symptoms bc gun to my head I could not tell you how often I experience them#It's just. Well either I'm currently experiencing them. have a limited number of Specific Memories. Or have 0 fucking clue if it has ever#Happened to me. Because my memory is just really fucking helpful. End post
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─ A LITTLE BIT HARDER NOW!
WHEN HE PULLS BACK theres drool collecting at the corner of your mouth. You're red in the face, eyes averting in shame 'cause you really do like it when he presses on your tummy like that.
cw. megumi x reader , stomach bulge , tummy pressing , size kink
Right now, Megumi has his grab on your thighs, blunt nails digging into soft flesh, thumbs circling pink bites on the inner sides. It's a routine that's starting to become familiar. Your hips are slightly lifted up from the bed, and he really cant explain why, but when he can see the outline of his dick through your stomach, he absolutely loses it.
You were horrified at the sight when you first saw it, but Megumi on the other hand? He was turned on the most he's been in his entire life.
He just loves pressing on the bulge in your little tummy. Its addicting—watching you squirm and whine and protest with little results. Seeing the way you cant decide if you want to stray from his touch or arch further into it. Loving how big his dick is compared to you.
"Fuck baby," he breathes out in awe. "See that? Feel it? Can you feel my cock deep inside you?" He groans as he pulls out all the way just to slam back into you, starting a fast, rough pace that doesn't seem to let up and makes the sound of sticky arousal totally embarrassing.
A hand retreats from where it's holding up your thigh to grab one of your own hands, wrestling the grip you have on crumpled sheets and guiding it down to your stomach.
"Wha- nghh, M'gumi, don't—!" A long, drawn out moan escapes your lips before the rest of your complaint can. Your hand is trembling, and too weak to escape his grab.
"C'mon sweet girl, don't you like how full I can make you feel?" He coos.
Your head falls to the side, attempting to push your face into the soft pillows, "N-noo... feels so weird..." The drawn out nature of your words make you sound unsure. Megumi doesn't believe that you don't like it, because oh, he knows you do.
"Awwh... you sure you don't like it, baby?" He says, faux innocence laced in his sweet tone. You pout. You know what he's doing to you, and hes so wrong for it. He leans in closer, tilting his head, teasing you so you get all embarrased—hot and flustered. "I should just pull out then if it's too much."
You shake your head so fast you almost get dizzy, unable to form any coherent words. Only small uh-uh's make it past your moans.
It's too hot. Megumi is so, very close to you right now. You're able to feel the radiating warmth of his body, his breath against your ear. With the added weight of his teasing, it becomes far too invading. You bury your face deeper into the pillows.
When you get like that, the heat always pressures you into spilling whatever you don't want to say—always. You make for a terrible, terrible liar.
"What about when I do it like this?" You face him again with curiosity. Your brows are furrowed, sweat beads down your hairline. Glossy eyes search his face in confusion in the cutest way ever before dilating in panic.
He adds more pressure and forces your hand harder onto your stomach, closing the little distance seperating the two of you to kiss you sloppily. You make a noise of shock, whining as he continues to knead your hand onto it.
Your cries melt back into the sound of pleasure, moaning into the kiss, your whining dying down.
When he pulls back theres drool collecting at the corner of your mouth. You're red in the face, eyes averting in shame 'cause you really do like it when he presses on your tummy like that. "Tell me how much you love it," he taunts.
When you're like this, you're able to feel all of him. Able feel every single thrust just grazing your cervix, senses going into overdrive as you subconsiously stop trying to fight his hold on your hand with the little to no strength you were using to begin with.
"I, hahh, love it! Love your cock s-so much! Feel so full... hah- aah—!" With one last thrust, your back arches, core unraveling around his length. Walls tightening, spasming in a way that makes Megumi spill all his praises. As your chest heaves heavily, your abdomen flexes and tightens, revealing the silhouette of your boyfriend's cock stuffed inside of you even clearer now.
The corner of his mouth quirks up in pride, "I bet you do, baby. I fuckin' bet."
He really should start doing this more often.
#jjk megumi#jjk smut#jjk x reader#jujutsu kaisen#jujutsu kaisen megumi#jujutsu kaisen smut#jujutsu megumi#megumi fushiguro#megumi fushiguro x reader#megumi smut#megumi x y/n#megumi x reader#megumi x you
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Warning: Gojo has really bad breeding/pregnancy kink
You have an inkling that Gojo Satoru is trying to get you pregnant.
You weren't sure at first, but the subtle clues began to add up. The way he insisted on being close to you during your most fertile days, his knowing smiles whenever you mentioned the future, and the way he would tenderly ask about your health and if you were taking any medications. And then of course, the fucking.
He is absolutely relentless. He reels his hips back just enough so his fat tip barely leaves your warm cunny, the anticipation building as you brace yourself. In an instant, he slams them forward, hard and fast right into your cervix. It's like he is trying to bring you and himself to the edge as fast as possible. And what you don't know is that he is, and after that, he will start all over again.
At the start he is able to keep his composure. But as he thrusts deeper, Jesus, when he feels, like, really fucking feels how warm and tight your pussy is, he starts to crumble like sand. Seeing you beneath him, your eyes glassy with tears from the intensity, your lower lip trembling as soft moans escape you, stirs something primal within him. It makes his body kick into auto-pilot as his head fills with thoughts only on filling you.
"F-feel so good baby," Gojo will groan into your ear as he rolls his hips into you. "S-shit I cant-" he gasps when you squeeze his length, your pussy squeezing him in a vice grip. That's when the babbling starts.
His mind is too hazy with euphoria to actually realize what he is saying but once he starts he can't stop; "Gonna cum in you baby, gonna cum in you and make you a mommy yeah?" He groans and throws his head back, sweat dripping now his neck, Adams's apple bobbing and mouth open as he pants for air.
"Come on answer me baby" He's not a whining man but here he is stumbling over his words like a school boy because of how good he feels right now. "Tell me how good you feel, tell me how you wanna be a mommy, how you wanna have my babies"
You know you should say no. You really do, but you just cant stop yourslef. "I do, I do I do" you babble, the words strung out on your lips from how good he is fucking you. Each of his thrusts sends electric shocks through your veins, the delicious friction of his cock setting your nerves alight. He fills you completely, stretching you to a blissful fullness that borders on too much, yet exactly what you crave. The way he moves within you, deep and relentless, drives you to the edge of sanity. His intensity, the raw power behind each movement, makes you feel cherished and claimed all at once. The euphoria builds, each stroke stoking the fire within you, each moment of fullness punctuated by a hunger for more. The collision of his dick against your cervix has you seeing colors. His motions are fluid due to how wet you are and his pelvis rubs against your sensitive clit so so so perfectly, driving you closer near the edge.
He moans at your words. God you were so perfect, you were going to be the perfect mother he can practically see it now; your cute belly bump, your tits round and plump with milk. He thinks that you would have to pry him off your nipple because god once he gets a test of you he won't be able to stop. Everything feels so good, he is practically seeing colors, oh god he is close he is so close-
"Fuck!" Gojo's hip stutter and his grip tightened significantly, a loud moan of your name slipping from his lips as his own orgasm washed over him, coming so hard he sees white. As the warm, sticky liquid fills your cunt, a surge of intense pleasure washes over you. The sensation is both overwhelming and deeply satisfying, and enough to bring you over the edge. Your pussy spasms from the pleasure and a white ring of cum forms around his dick from how tight the fit is.The warmth spreads, a comforting yet exhilarating feeling that envelopes your senses, leaving you awash in a blissful glow.
Maybe a baby with Gojo wouldn't be so bad.
#jjk smut#gojo x reader#gojo smut#jjk x reader smut#jjk x reader#jujutsu kaisen smut#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu kaisen#gojo satoru x reader
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the heir's favorite ⋆ jacaerys velaryon
SUMMARY. You are the first daughter of the marriage between your mother Rhaenyra Targaryen and your father Daemon Targaryen. Always the most rebellious and difficult of all, temperamental, impulsive. However, weak before the temptation to possess your older brother, the crown prince Jacaerys Velaryon, a knight par excellence, the opposite of you. But no one in Dragonstone imagined that you shared much more than dragon's blood.
WARNINGS. +18 Jacaerys Velaryon x fem!oc. Targaryen incest (brother and sister). Jacaerys aggressive and dominant. Smut. Based on the second season of House Of the Dragon.
AUTHOR'S NOTE. This was a suggestion left anonymously in the messages, so I invite you to leave yours. Thanks for reading.
The empty room was so quiet that you could feel your thoughts could be heard all over the place. The full moon illuminated the dark sky, standing out against the stars that night where everyone was resting in their chambers, but you were unable to lie in your bed, much less fall asleep without having nightmares. The Stone Table was where everyone met daily to discuss strategies for the war that was being unleashed in Westeros, but now that empty place was strange, so much silence and loneliness. The extinguished embers did not illuminate the tabletop, you touched the stone expecting to burn, however, it was totally cold.
"Who's there?" a familiar voice entered the place. You turned immediately finding Prince Jacaerys, your older brother and heir to your mother's throne. "Sister... it's very late."
"I know, you should be resting." You replied walking towards him.
"It's a bit complex lately." He took the luxury of joking, in response you smiled without much encouragement. "May I know what you're doing here?"
"Not much. Seems to me you're not the only one who doesn't get any rest." You lifted your shoulders casually. "Any news on your rounds?"
Jacaerys shook his head in disappointment, pacing around the table resting his hands on the handle of his sword without taking his eyes off you, analyzing your presence carefully, as if silently judging you. You rested your hands on the stone of the table relaxing your body on your arms, but your head couldn't stop scheming hundreds of thoughts and bloody imaginary scenarios regarding the war.
"Cole's army is getting bigger and bigger and we don't have a damn clue about anything." You said with a tense jaw. "And about my father..." you sighed deeply without looking your brother in the face "no word from him for days."
"That's not your fault." Jace tried to make you feel better with repeated kind words, but your guilt was growing and the anguish of the approaching war wouldn't leave you alone. "Daemon is not the priority."
"That idiot should be here, on the island, with his queen and his children." You whispered angrily. Then you looked up resolute in your decision. "I'll go see him tomorrow."
That didn't sit well with your brother.
"Don't talk nonsense, Visenya." The heir scoffed. "You can't go to Harrenhal alone, it's too dangerous and we don't know if the way is clear."
"You think I'll arrive by land alongside Daemon's imaginary army?" you sneered in the same condescending manner, a brazen gesture that made Jacaerys' blood boil. "I will ride Vermithor's back at dawn and arrive before the sun peaks. I will return the same day with news before the queen."
"That's a lousy idea!" Your brother exclaimed angrily. Grabbing your arm with brute force, forcing you to look him. "How can you even think of traveling alone to lands we don't know if they are enemies or allies?"
"We need to move fast before they come for us, Jacaerys." You squirmed under his grip feeling his fingers bury into your pale skin. "Do you intend to wait for my father to return?" you managed to break free from his grip with difficulty, Jacaerys ran a hand through his wavy hair desperate not to talk sense into you. "Because you may take a seat, I will not be accompanying you."
"Visenya, please understand the magnitude of your stupidity." He begged, chasing you from side to side. Your brother knew how impulsive you were, and how hard it was for you to get an idea out of your head, no matter if it was good or bad and in this case it was a rather dangerous one. "What happens if you cross paths with Vhagar in the skies?" The prince raised his voice to you demanding and imperative trying to intimidate you, anyone passing nearby could overhear your discussion. You turned your back to him, you didn't want to look him in the face out of embarrassment because deep down you knew his words were true. "You have no business there!"
"I have no business here either!" you exclaimed with the same intensity. You were temperamental by nature and now you were blowing off steam. "I'm tired of staying cooped up on the island, waiting for others to figure things out! I'm a dragon rider, and I'm constrained by these walls."
Your brother understood that feeling better than anyone, he grabbed you by both cheeks, covering your face with his firm hands.
"I know how you feel, Visenya. Believe me, but walking out at the first impulse is not the solution, don't you understand?" You put your hands over his, looking at him intently. You wanted to nod to answer him the question he asked you, but you were mesmerized in his nearness and his breath hitting your face. "Stay here, with us." He watched you carefully without letting go, losing himself in the sense of his pleas to look at you closely, you were so beautiful in any light no matter how dim, a Targaryen through and through with bright, intense violet eyes of long white hair like your parents. Jacaerys couldn't help but stare at you, the half-open lips tempting him to taste you, trying not to lose what little composure he had left. "With me."
You possessed the ethereal beauty of your mother and the complex character of your father, Daemon Targaryen. Under your little ethics and impulsiveness you did not think if it was a coherent idea and you threw yourself to kiss the thick lips of your brother who reciprocated instantly, none of them reasoned, they only moved to the rhythm of the kiss where their moist lips brushed anxiously. Your brother's hand on your waist took you by surprise, more so when he pressed you against his body bumping you against his chest and cornering you against the table.
"Go to sleep." Jace scolded you making an attempt to stop kissing you, but you kept reaching for him. "This isn't a good place."
With a smile you ignored knowing the only way to stop the situation was for you to go to your quarters and you didn't feel like leaving. You grabbed her hair tangling your fingers in her chestnut curls, Jacaerys strength intimidated you, but it wasn't enough to stop you.
"Don't go to Harrenhal." He pleaded leaving kisses on your neck, tracing a wet path over your skin taking advantage of inhaling your scent. "Do it and I promise I will warm your bed every night."
You felt a shiver run down your back at his offering, Jacaerys kept leaving kisses until he reached your collarbones uncovered by the neckline of your dress. His warm lips made your heart beat faster, you grabbed him by the face stopping him.
"Would you do that for me?" you asked with dangerous innocence, watching his glossy swollen lips.
"Do you really doubt it?" he answered against your ear, then brushed his nose against yours slowly, you left a short kiss on his lips almost by instinct, so tender and unexpected that you heard a laugh come out of the prince.
"I'll think about it." You whispered touching his chest, playing with the textures of the fabrics, his agitated breathing gave him away, having you close was a personal challenge for the prince. It was a lie, you weren't going to think about it, you just wanted to give him what he needed to hear to stay with you.
Jacaerys' big hands began to take hold of your body squeezing you tightly making you gasp, then you lifted your chin giving him access to your neck, the kisses there unsettled you in a special way and only your brother knew it, taking advantage of your weakness, listening closely to his breathing and feeling the warmth of his breath was much better. Everything about him you liked, and you were missing him lately. The pressure and uncertainty of the war had taken your head elsewhere, you had abandoned each other for valid reasons, but at that second you just wanted to give yourself to him one more time.
You stood on your tiptoes to gain a little more height reaching for his ear, your brother tensed at the delicate touch of your hot tongue against his lobe, you licked delicately knowing that it turned him on, he confessed it to you one night and you never forgot it. A deep moan of satisfaction came from his throat, then carefully, you lowered one of your hands straight down to his pants, positioning yourself over his hard member that was pressing against the fabric.
"This is not the best place." Begged the prince resting his forehead on your shoulder. "We are in a sacred place, you know?"
You cared little for his insistence or decency when you only wanted to shout his name, though you knew Jacaerys was asking you to stop for the sake of not failing in duty, not because the desire wasn't there. No one understood the reason why Rhaenyra did not cancel the stupid engagement between Lady Baela and the right Jacaerys, no one could deny that they could become blameless kings for the history of Westeros, but there would never be the tension and burning desire throbbing as when the fire was unleashed between you. That first time with a taste of sin, you begging him not to stop, that it was going to become a one-time secret that his parents would never find out, a secret they couldn't help but repeat between your sheets and his, in the hallways and in the library.
Desperate, your brother lifted the skirt of your dress with your help by grabbing your leg and pulling it up to his waist. The mere contact made you moan from the pleasure, you clamped your mouth shut to keep from making noise, you were too sensitive and needy and Jacaerys liked to have you under his control. You were always sarcastic, upset and nasty, just like your dragon, but Jacaerys Velaryon knew how to control you.
"What are you going to do if someone finds out about us?" You asked with bated breath. Deep down it was important to keep the secret guarded to keep it. Jacaerys' fingers stroking between your legs making you jump, clinging to the heir's neck and leaning against the table. "What are they going to say when they find out the crown prince fucking his sister."
His fingers slowly moved up and down, playing with your slimy wetness between his fingers. The mischievous grin on the chestnut's face only reflected the satisfaction of having managed to have you like this, so submissive to him.
"Does it scare you?" he whispered against your moaning lips. With his other hand he gripped the back of your neck tightly, so you wouldn't move. "They're going to find out you're my spoiled sister." Two of his long fingers began to search for the perfect place to insert themselves into you. You stirred under his grip settling in for him, your desperate breathing needing him to finish his work, but he seemed very calm provoking you with his words. "Do you know what they'll call you?" he bit your lip, pulling it towards him. "The heir's whore." His fingers slipped inside you so easily, sliding into your wet insides gushing moans from your chest as you felt him move in and out of you. Jacaerys took your leg his free hand clutching his fingers to your thigh preventing you from closing before him.
At the first loud moan you covered your mouth immediately knowing you were attracting attention, the sensation between your legs was stronger. You squeezed your brother's shoulder getting used to the movement of his fingers inside you.
"Don't yell." He ordered uncompromisingly. He had to kiss you to shut you up, which served you a few short minutes. You were losing your mind, your legs wanted to close but Jace put his foot down to stop that from happening.
"Jacaerys." His name on your lips excited him more than anything else, for it was the tone of desperation that mirrored your desire. To know that he controlled you and you were under his dominion with how arrogant you were, that no knight owned you, that everyone desired you for being Rhaenyra's spoiled daughter, but you were his, no matter an arranged marriage or duty was enough. "Mmh." You ran your hand over your face, desperate to keep silent fighting against your body that was beginning to tremble as his fingers went faster.
But for an ego like Prince Jacaerys Velaryon's it wasn't enough. Listening to you enjoy yourself on the Stone Table where every day they met to discuss war strategies was the most satisfying image to his eyes and he was not going to be able to forget it. The way you moved, dragon-like, the sweetest and most desperate noises came from you, none of the whores he had been with compared to the delicacy of a pureblood Targaryen. A unique and unrepeatable privilege.
When your breathing became erratic and the murmurs incomprehensible swearing you were going to reach that peak, Jacaerys came to a screeching halt chastising you. You opened your eyes in disappointment and fury, your heart leaping out of your chest and your legs damp and trembling.
"Be a good sister," he stroked your cheek with the gentleness you deserve to be treated with. You were trying to listen to him but you were so upset you just wanted to insult him for doing that to you. "Turn around."
Your hair stood up at his tone of voice demanding and conciliatory at the same time. As obedient as ever, just for him, you turned your back to him as the prince busied himself with pulling down his pants that were pressing against the erection he was trying to contain. Your heart wouldn't stop pounding, you could still feel his long fingers inside you and the wait, however minimal, was becoming eternal and torturous. You looked sideways at the entrances of the place without finding anyone, but the truth is that you didn't care if at that moment the queen arrived and found them like that, the euphoria and adrenaline was taking over your body and your reason, the overflowing desire had taken your actions. You felt Jace's hands sneaking up your skirt, careful where to touch, looking for just the right position to enter. He stood behind you, your dress pulled up over your back, the mere touch made you moan. You were so wet it was slipping from your entrance.
"Don't say anything." He told you and you nodded, you were capable of begging if necessary, though deep down you knew he enjoyed it making you obey. "Tell me if you want me to stop."
You closed your eyes as you felt Jacaerys slowly push behind you. You took a breath and tried to relax, you both moaned slowly, the prince tensed his jaw and clenched his teeth to keep from making noise, he stayed still for a few seconds searching for your hips digging his fingers into your skin trapping you in that position, moving you back and forth to better thrust. The rubbing of his member on your walls felt warm and wet, an invasion of your body, you were so used to his size that the sensation became familiar, literally. Some of the pieces of stone you unintentionally threw away, that was going to be a problem for later, because now the noise of their bodies colliding was beginning to consume you. The control he had over you didn't bother you, he gripped you tightly taking over everything. Her hips moved with yours instinctively in a delicious back and forth.
"Like this." You gasped with closed eyes and a satisfied expression. You reached for his hand under your dress and clung to him as tightly as Jace clung to you.
His length pumped in and out of you at a rapid pace, but this time, Jacaerys made sure each thrust was deep by ramming his pelvis into your buttocks.
"What a pleasure to meet again, don't you think?" his question was punctuated by your same panting without stopping moving. You weren't able to answer, your high-pitched moans were getting louder and louder, putting both of you at risk. On the other hand, he was breathing heavily. You had to cover your mouth with your hand, biting your palm to stifle your own moans of pleasure at having him inside you.
You started to stir but you were trapped in his hands, he knew you well enough to know what to do, you turned to look at him finding the heir ramming you with force and speed, his hair fell in curls that moved to the rhythm of his rhythm, when their gazes met for a second he stared at you, your face sweating, your eyes bright with a frown of supplication and red cheeks were enough to have no mercy. Your entrance was tightening at the same time you couldn't breathe, that feeling of a wave invading your insides begging for more desperate to reach orgasm. Jacaerys took your with one hand your waist and with the other your hip, encasing his fingers preventing you from escaping, you were in this together and you had to finish it.
You moved your arm and disarranged the pieces on the board. Now you could hear your brother moaning, cursing you for being his undoing and the greatest of his sins, making you his own feeling the power to mark you and deflower you breaking any tradition that governs the Targaryen nobility. It felt so good that you could confess your love to him just so he wouldn't stop. Luckily for both of you, he didn't stop, the rapid movements and the pressure forming in your lower stomach was getting out of control, the noise intensifying from the collision of your bodies and your knees seemed to lose any kind of strength to hold you up, luckily the table was there to support your body, plus your brother who wasn't going to let you fall. Until you couldn't manage to resist anymore, your orgasm came first like a shiver throughout your body, you closed your eyes tightly and watching you exclaim his name in screams of pleasure ended the infinite torture of the heir that took a few seconds to wait.
"Shit." Your voice hopefully came out of your dry mouth. You had your chest against the weight crushing your breasts, one of your hands intertwined with your brother's who was rebounding behind you.
You both took a second to take a breath and assimilate what you had just done, you had promised not to fall into carnal sin again and that's why the last time was several months ago. You leaned on the table with both hands coming back into yourself with your chest heaving, your brother's hands were still in the same place but he was no longer squeezing you with the same possessive intensity. Your hair was falling on both sides, tousled from the movement and your legs were begging you for a rest.
Jacaerys caught his breath, but his heart had not calmed down at all. His body was still experiencing those chills and that unique tension, he took a step backwards out of your body to get dressed. You immediately felt the fluid trickle down the inside of your thighs, dripping slowly down your hot skin.
"Are you okay?" Jace asked pulling up his pants, his movements a little uncontrolled as the adrenaline was still pumping. You nodded fixing your wrinkled dress. It wasn't the first time it had happened, you both knew what it was, that meant you would have to have tea the next morning.
"Looks like I'll be staying."
Your older brother smiled, fixed his hair pulling it back and moving closer to kiss you again, this time slower and softer, trapping your lips with his so slowly that you relaxed. You took his face kissing him again, his scent, his warmth, his bearing that forced you to lift your chin to reach your mouth, the softness of his lips, it was the most comforting sensation you knew.
"Go rest." He whispered without opening his eyes. Tidying your hair behind your ear.
"Okay." You replied in the same tone, so obedient and submissive before him, kissing for the last time his mouth following your movement. "Good night"
Leaving him was complicated, but you were satisfied with the encounter. As you walked you felt the burning between your legs, a reminder that was to last a couple of days that he had made you his once more, that was the greatest secret they kept hidden, they had forgotten for a moment the war between families, the political problems, duty and order.
Jacaerys Velaryon watched you go, silently picking up the sword he had dropped to the ground. That simple symbol that he was capable of abandoning his duty as prince for you, he staked his honor and his word for taking you. He stayed a while longer tidying up the mess they had created, arranging the pieces of stone in the place that corresponded according to the figure, picking up from the floor some that fell without realizing it. It was he who always assumed the role of responsibility for cleaning up the mess and pretending nothing had happened. How was he going to show up tomorrow at this very spot knowing he had relations with Visenya, the spoiled and arrogant princess, right there?
He only hoped Daemon Targaryen would never discover that his daughter was the heir's favorite if he wished to one day ascend the throne.
#jacaerys velaryon#hotd jacaerys#jacaerys targaryen#jacaerys velaryon x reader#jacaerys velaryon x you#hotd spoilers#hotd smut#hotd#hotd season 2#jacaerys x reader#house of the dragon#jacaerys velaryon imagines#jacaerys velaryon fanfic#jacaerys velaryon smut#jace velaryon smut#jacaerys smut#jace velaryon#prince jacaerys#jace targaryen#harry collett#jacaerys x you#jacaerys targaryen smut#hotd post#hotd imagine#house of the dragon smut#hotd x you#hotd x reader#house of the dragon season 2#house of the dragon x reader#house of the dragon imagines
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there's only one rule with them--you have to be included, lest you give simon those big eyes that he absolutely fucking despises. (ghoap x f!reader, 18+)
you can't help it, really. you like being the center of attention. no--you need to be the center of attention.
their attention.
even when you're too fucked out to go any longer, someone has to be paying attention to you. simon has found that even when he's too occupied making johnny's eyes roll back in his head, a firm hand tangled in your hair is enough to keep you smiling all lopsided and ooey-gooey warm. a thumb in your mouth, lips against your temple, just a soft touch is good enough to keep you from blinking up at simon all wet and soft-like.
simon even found out that you have a sixth-sense for knowing if simon touched his sergeant when they were deployed. coming through the door, just seeing them, that pretty bottom lip trembling when you meet johnny's eyes because you just know something happened without you.
it's not that you're jealous. it's not that you don't approve. simon knows you're just so delicate. so sweet. you want to be included and noticed, because no one ever had noticed you at all before them, and you just hate feeling left out. you want to know everything about them, and when something happens without you, you feel like you're missing a special piece of them, and it makes your heart drop into your stomach.
"none of tha'," simon says lowly when he sees your eyes well up, all watery and big.
"i'm sorry--" you whine. it takes johnny between your thighs for a full hour before simon sees you crack a smile again.
simon comes up with a nice solution. he doesn't want to see his perfect girl upset anymore. he won't have it any longer. it isn't allowed.
you put the phone to your ear. it's late, and you're a bit sleepy, but with the ringer on full volume, you're always ready to answer the phone.
"h-hello?"
"'ello, baby." your eyes flutter open at the sound of simon's low drawl, and you giggle sleepily. "oi, wot's so funny?"
"nothing," you whisper. "i miss you."
"i miss you more," simon hums. you hear shuffling in the background, a grunt accompanied by a hiss. "say 'ello to our pretty kitty, johnny."
there's some static, and then you hear panting. a gargled cry sounds, one you recognize, and you grip the phone tight as you stare up at the ceiling. you roll over in a bed that's much too big for just you, and you whine a little.
"j-johnny?"
"fuck--ngghh--'m thinkin' aboot yer pussy, bonnie, lemme 'ear it."
you squeeze your thighs together on instinct. you reach for the pillow next to you, the one that still smells like simon, and you bury your nose into it and whine when you hear the distinct sound of skin slapping against skin.
"lemme 'ear it, willnae come unless--"
"johnny," you mewl, sticking your hand under the shirt you wear. it's simon's (the only shirt that fits over your tits), but you're bare underneath, so it takes you no time at all to break open your thighs and stick your hand between your folds. you don't even go for foreplay; there's no need. you are wet enough to dip your fingers just barely into yourself, scooping up a nice amount of slick and spreading it around, frantic enough that when you put the phone on speaker, the slip, slip, slip of your fingers is audible on the other end.
"och--si, she's...aye, she's soaking."
"tha's my girl."
"come...g-gonna come," you stutter, and johnny groans.
"need ye on my face, kitty cat," he pants, "lemme 'ear, closer, bonnie, get me closer--"
you lower the phone down your body, moving your fingers faster, your toes curling as you arch your back and listen to the wet smack, smack, smack of what you know is simon putting his fucking back into it. his groans follow the movements. simon is always a little rougher with his sergeant, always murmuring about how he can take it, not so sweet like our daisy baby.
"coming!" you gasp, and you press the heel of your hand against your clit as you breathe through your orgasm. so fast this time, hitting you from your toes and traveling all the way up, until your nipples pebble and your heart hammers. you bring the phone back up and bask in the glow of it, giggling dreamily as you listen to simon absolutely ruin your sergeant. skin on skin, nasty grunts and filthy curses, hissing and the sounds of things falling over and breaking. you pocket it for later and memorize it now, cooing softly when you know johnny is close.
you talk him until you hear him come, and then you tell simon to eat it off his gloved fingers for you.
"goodnight, kitty cat."
you smile.
"goodnight."
when they come home again, there you are, seated in the kitchen, all big smiles and soft eyes. simon touches a finger under your chin, and you blink up at him.
"olright?" simon asks, and you nod, picking up his other hand to kiss his knuckles.
"perfect."
#simon ghost riley#simon riley x reader#simon riley x you#simon ghost x reader#simon ghost riley x reader#simon ghost riley x you#ghost x reader#ghost x you#simon ghost x you#john soap mactavish#simon thoughts#john mactavish x reader#john mactavish x you#john soap mactavish x reader#john soap mactavish x you#ghoap x reader
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For your consideration:
Imagine Bucky, the strong and dangerous and stern super soldier that by all accounts is terrifying as an opponent, being unable to stop himself from coming in his pants because of you. Maybe you don't even have to touch him; he gets so lost in the taste of you that he has to start grinding against the mattress, and accidentally comes when you do.
I've had this image in my head for days and had to share it somewhere, sorry 🫠
Nonnie, I love this so much. 🫠
Feral
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader
Summary: Bucky gets a little feral now and then.
Word Count: Over 1.2k
Warnings: Oral sex (f. receiving), implied sex, possessive behavior, slight feels, Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?).
A/N: Hope you lovelies enjoy. ❤️ Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!
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Bucky gets in a feral mood every now and then. He may let you know with a text that simply says, “Be ready.” and other days he won't give you a warning at all. By the time you hear his deep growl or see his pupils so blown that the blue irises nearly disappear you know you aren't leaving the bed for the next day. Or two.
Today you don't even hear him coming.
You’re in the middle of a shower when he suddenly shoves the curtain aside, and you’re lucky you don't have a heart attack or slip and fall. A shriek still leaves your mouth when you lock eyes with the ex-assassin and you see the blown pupils, and you're about to have a heart attack for a completely different reason. You hope your schedule is clear because you know he’s going to thoroughly ruin you and you’d rather not try to pull yourself back together for a while.
“Bed. Now.” His growl should make you move, but you’re still under the water and trapped by his massive body.
You don't move around him fast enough and he doesn't care that his clothes get wet when he grabs you and throws you over his shoulder. All he cares about is making you wet. At least he has the good sense to shut the water off before carrying you away. He’s thoughtful like that.
He drops you unceremoniously on the bed, the comforter now soaked as well thanks to your dripping wet body. Removing his shirt and tossing it aside, you get a moment to take in the view of Bucky Barnes looking at you like a man starved. He’s a beautiful canvas of muscles and scars, yet he looks at you like you're a real work of art. You wordlessly spread your legs and invite him to feast on what belongs to him. It would've been rude to keep him from his meal and you weren't cruel.
Not to mention no past lover can ever live up to how Bucky Barnes eats pussy.
He drops to his knees and pushes your legs open more, licking his lips as gazes at your twitching hole on display. He brushes some of the hair from his face to get a better look, and it only makes him look more wild. Untamed. It doesn't take much for him to arouse you, but the way he growls at the sight of you has you feeling like a goddess. You’re on your back, but he’s on his knees ready to worship and you’ll gladly accept his offerings. However he chooses to give them to you.
“I know you’re starving, Bucky. So eat,” you finally tell him, wanting him to have his fill. Whatever puts him in this mood, you’ll go along for the ride.
But before he dips down to feast, he moves up your body like a sleek cat and fastens his mouth to yours. He won't take from you without at least one kiss. You moan low as you kiss him back and feel him grind against you. It surprises you that he still has his pants on, but he’s getting rid of them soon enough.
You can't help but touch one of the scars near his shoulder, making him gasp into your mouth. He’s so strong. So powerful. Life dragged him through hell and he didn't escape unscathed, but he survived.
“Mine,” he murmurs so softly you almost miss it as he kisses down your body. Every kiss is a reminder of who you belong to. You’ll always be his.
“Yours,” you gasp when his nose nudges your clit and he inhales deeply. You remember when the smell of your arousal used to embarrass you, and now you wonder why it ever bothered you since he loves it so much. His metal fingers part your folds and he drags his tongue along your slit with a hum, lapping up your wetness. “Fuck…” you whimper, bringing a hand up to play with your breast.
“Not yet,” he growls, pushing his tongue deep inside.
Your free hand flies to his head and you choke on a moan as you clench around him. If he was speaking more, he’d tell you how beautifully bittersweet you taste, how your pussy is made for him, how desperate you are for him to fuck you with his cock, how you're all he needs. A mix of praise, profanity, filth, and love. Hearing him growl and grunt as he feasts tells you more than enough.
“So good,” he grunts between licks, his flesh hand digging into your shaking thigh when he slips two metal fingers in. You recall gushing all over the metal the first time he made his arm vibrate. He likes having the scent of your arousal on the metal, almost as much as he likes having it on the fingers of his right hand.
You lift your head when you hear shuffling on the bed, your eyes wide when you see his hips rise and dip. You’re all too familiar with that motion. “Bucky… are you…”
“Pussy’s so fucking good. I can't… I can’t stop,” he groans, rolling his hips like he can't stop himself from humping the bed because of how good you taste. “‘m so fucking hard for you.”
Your man’s cock can be sensitive some days. Grinding against him can make him get off in his pants. You went down on him once and just the feeling of your breath against his shaft had him shooting off before you wrapped your mouth around him. And with his rebound rate, you never have to worry if he gets off before you because he’ll still take care of you.
“That’s so hot,” you admit, your mouth falling open when he moves his fingers and tongue in time with his hips. “It’s okay, big boy. Make a mess in your pants for me,” you beg, wanting him to get off to you.
His growl has a bit of a whine to it when he looks up at you, his lips and chin glistening. “Yeah?”
“Yeah,” you smile, your fingers carding through his hair again. You don't want him to feel embarrassed.
He looks relieved. “Then make a mess on my face first,” he demands, dipping his head back down and making quick work of building your orgasm back up.
Pulling your hips down to meet his mouth, it isn't long before your orgasm tears through you. Your head nearly falls back as the tidal waves crash over you, but you keep it elevated enough to catch the stutter in his hips and the telltale husky moan against your sensitive hole. It almost triggers another orgasm watching him rut before he slumps against the bed like you.
Your head spins. Your heart pounds. And you smile. Bucky Barnes just came in his pants because you came. Yeah, you feel like a goddess and then some.
“You came in your pants for me,” you breathe. “That’s love.”
Your smile only widens when he pulls his mouth and fingers away to unbuckle his pants, your walls clenching when takes himself out. He’s large and thick as he strokes himself, and you can also see a bit of the evidence of him finishing in his pants. It gets you hot all over again, and now you need to make a mess around his cock while he finishes inside you. It’ll satisfy you both.
“Yeah, that is love,” he groans, brushing his thumb over the weeping tip. He still has a bit of the feral look in his eyes. “Now I need to fuck you with my cock at least twice before I eat again.”
Yeah, you’re in for a long and fun weekend.
I need him, okay? Love and thanks for reading! ❤️
Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi
#navybrat writes#bucky barnes#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes x female reader#bucky barnes x you#bucky barnes x y/n#bucky barnes fanfiction#bucky barnes imagine#bucky x reader#bucky x female reader#bucky x you#bucky fanfic#bucky imagine#james buchanan barnes#sebastian stan#the winter soldier#sebastian stan x reader#james bucky barnes#x reader#bucky barnes smut#bucky barnes fic#sebastian stan characters#winter soldier#the winter soldier x reader#bucky barnes x f!reader#james bucky buchanan barnes
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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. 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 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
“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 shiver 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 the 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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