#I don’t wanna start blaming myself but

[bl00dsh0tc0r3]

We argued. We had a big falling out last night. He didn’t respond to me and I thought he was asleep. He then calls me saying he overdosed and I call an ambulance. How did we even get here..?

I hope he will be okay.. I’m doing my best to stay calm.

[jewishbarbies]

I’m 25 and I’m having to teach my 50+ year old mother how to communicate and voice needs/concerns without insulting and upsetting people, while at the same time teaching my 21yr old little sister how to accept criticism, take responsibility for actions, and react respectfully when someone communicates a need/concern to her bc our mother never taught her. I’m now everyone’s gentle parent mom and it’s just confirming to me that I never want kids.

[lizardho]

I came out to my dad as bisexual at 14 and I was PANICKED because I had a crush on a guy in my Boy Scout troop and thought I was Going To Hell Forever and he was so kind and understanding of my distress, but he had NO idea what bisexuality was. He just said “yeah but you like girls too? This is normal. Everyone is like this.” And I love my dad and trust him with my life to this day and the idea that the concept of bisexuality had not occurred to him had not occurred to me so I put it off.

By 16 though I had a crush on like THREE boys. Three entire boys in my Boy Scout troop. I felt like my sin was slowly advancing, until like an untreated cancer it had become metastatic. I remember bawling my L’il limp-wristed sissy eyes out in his big rumbly truck on the way home from a scout meeting and him telling me that it was OK, that he still loved me if I was gay, but that he knew I wasn’t gay because I still had crushes on women and that meant I was straight. I didn’t quite know how to explain that those felt *~*different*~* and that I felt like I was losing a fight to evil inside me but I again felt comforted by his reassurances and his genuine fatherly love.

At 18 I was like “hey I’m realizing all my friends are going on missions. I don’t wanna do that. Idk how to say that and I don’t have a ‘good enough’ reason to not wanna go.” So I just put it off. Again, my parents were extremely supportive of the information I gave them (I blamed it on perpetually forgetting to start the paperwork.) and one day my mom texted me that she had done the paperwork for me! And that all I needed was to get a physical! So I did that (it was awkward af tbh, my hernia check was done by a trainee doctor and she spent like 3 minutes fishing around my inguinal canals before her attending rescued me) and was sent to Mexico City where I learned that in addition to dipshit himbos with strong hands and scruffy guys with artistic hearts I was REALLY into chubby Latin men with strong personalities who bullied me a little when I lived in Mexico.

I remember my first companion got annoyed with me during an argument and said we were just gonna wrestle and whoever won the wrestling match won the argument (I stg I am dead serious this happened.) I was like…SWEATING when he tore off his tie and threw his white button-down shirt onto the ground (I won btw, don’t ask me how).

I remember one of my companions with this really intense, almost manic energy telling me that he was gonna make sure I was safe in a new area I didn’t know very well. He cooked breakfast for me and we’d go shopping together on P-Days and in the mornings before breakfast he’d jog around and do pull-ups with his shirt off and I’d do anything but look at him because my face would break out in a sweat so intense he’d think I was crying and come over to see if I was OK and somehow make it worse. He let me play D&D with myself in the evenings even though it was against mission rules because he knew how lonely and stressed I was.

I remember one of my companions was a big chubby man with a loud voice and a great sense of humor. He was kind and direct when addressing conflicts with me, and always bragged about how he knew the secrets of women’s minds and it felt like he really did since it almost always boiled down to “Treat Them Like People and Love Them a Lot. Don’t Stop Being A Person For Them. Also Eat Them Out Sloppy Style.” Our P-Day activities sometimes felt like dates, and it seemed like he was more attentive to my emotional state than I was since he was always the first to suggest we slow down our Divinely Mandated, God-Ordained, Super Sacred Work and Wonder to get a snack or check out a Pawn Shop (I love Pawn Shops).

I remember another companion who asked me to bully him every time he did something against his goal of losing weight. It was like he gave me Carte Blanche to take out my crush on him by being a nuisance and I LOVED that. I remember having a breakdown one day after we’d spent the afternoon frantically cleaning our disgusting-barely-habitable mission house to make it look less vile that it was (not our fault imo?) and I started bawling and he pulled me into a hug and he smelled good and he told me he knew it wasn’t just the house and that I was mad at him for being a Huge Dickhead for about a week (true) and that he would work on it. (He’s also a huge chaser but that’s a separate thing.)

I remember one of my companions waking up early (and our schedule is already built for sleep deprivation) to make me a “birthday cake” from knock-off Nutella and bread. He used matches for candles and woke me up, lit the ‘candles,’ pulled them out, then smashed it in my face and took a bunch of pictures while I was still madrugada and disoriented as fuck. He had the same sense of humor as one of my HS crushes and I could push his buttons pretty easily which was so fun.

I came home from my mission and started back at BYU where I became actively and aggressively suicidal. I had a stalker the year I moved up there and my dad’s solution to that was to get me a gun. I know he wouldn’t have bought me a gun if he could have read my mind, but I had a loaded pistol under my bed during a trifecta faith/sexuality/gender crisis and that was not helpful. I remember that the day I decided to kill myself I figured I’d call the BYU CAPS and see if I could get into therapy because it felt like what I was “supposed to do” so I could check my suicide boxes. My therapist was the guy who’d helped me pick a major the year before and was this drop-dead gorgeous Hawaiian man who cried when I told him how I’d been feeling.

A few weeks into therapy I met another stunning man with soft eyes and a scruffy illegal-at-BYU beard he kept pushing his luck with. He was funny, kind, patient, married, and wouldn’t give me the time of day if he knew I was crushing on him. We were in my history of psych class, which was inarguably the worst psych class I have ever had, and we studied together for every assignment and test and I realized that my feelings for him and for all the men I’d already mentioned were in direct conflict with my faith and relationship with God. My already agonizing spiritual conflict became even more wretched and as a result of this plus some other tightly-packed experiences with Mormonisms bullshit, I left the church.

After leaving the church I decided to move back to AZ and transfer to ASU. My mom helped me get a dog since I think it had started to dawn on my family that my mental health was barely getting me through the day, and she knew that we both loved dogs. Madi made my last year at BYU livable while I got my shit together and transferred. In that last year, I went on a date with quite possibly the only semi-openly-out trans person on BYU campus. It was not a great date imo, I was not doing well, but the person I spoke with was fun and fascinating and talked to me about Gender Dysphoria and it really cemented my need to go. To leave and never come back to that fucking school.

I started at ASU a month after my last semester at BYU and within a very short time frame it felt like I was coming back together, like a puzzle magically putting itself together in an environment that wasn’t slowly draining that puzzle’s will to live.

On the 4th of July, the year I started at ASU, I saw a transition timeline photo of a gorgeous happy beautiful happy radiant happy woman and her former Mormon missionary self and I realized the light that was on in her eyes was the light that was off in mine. I looked into transitioning for 3 days, sleeping about 10 hours total during that time. I started talking to other trans people on Reddit (one of whom is now my beautiful fiancée @cintailed) and after about a month of making preparations to be disowned and kicked out, something I was not sure would happen but was ready to go through to Turn On The Lights, I came out to my family and it was amazing. I started HRT a month after that. I secretly dated some dorky guys for about a year while I applied to grad schools. I got into a great grad school for me and my needs. I got FFS. I did my trainings and classes. Me and my fiancée moved in together after some LDR shenanigans. We’ve lived together now for 4 years of basically marital bliss. We have a cat named Grandmother Esmeralda Weatherwax who bites the hell out of my feet about three times a day. My bi-cycle continues to be part of my life but now it’s not as scary. Baby gays in my life have started to look to me for advice. Idk how this all happened so fast. When the years, months, weeks, days, and hours seems to crawl by so slowly now they are rushing past me so fast it’s almost bewildering. Whereas before I felt like I was living on borrowed time, past my ‘expiration date,’ now it feels like I can Fucking Breathe. I’m training myself to slow down now and it feels worth it to Live In The Moment.

Idk why I wrote this. Idk why these thoughts only seem to come up on Sundays when I’m supposed to be writing my dissertation. Idk why I’m crying rn or why I feel so happy. I’m gonna post this shit then get on with my dissertation I guess. Read more Terry Pratchett and give yourselves the time you need. Get a pet. Talk to someone. Re-examine the events that brought you here. Be gayer. Love y’all 💕

[babydollslibrary]

SNOW ON THE BEACH — LUKE HUGHES

luke hughes x fem!reader

published: February 8th, 2023

summary: in which shy, introverted y/n meets extroverted frat boy Luke and he takes a liking to her, even though everyone thinks they’re an odd match.

specific lyrics: “it’s like snow on the beach, weird but fuckin’ beautiful.”

notes: i really wanted frat boy Luke in order to really have them contrast each other, but i also didn’t wanna take away the hockey element or split up the UMich boys, so… Hockey House is a frat now.

GIF by 1-800-iluvhockey

the library is packed. i should’ve expected it, with it being so close to finals week and all, but it still disappointed me nonetheless.

this was my favorite place to escape and read when my obnoxious dorm-mate had her friends over. it was quiet and usually pretty empty. so i could usually sit and read for a few hours until i was sure none of Alex’s friends were still there. none of them knew how to use an inside voice, and with our dorm just being one big room, they constantly thought that meant i would want to join in on their conversations. which were mainly gossip about the hockey team. so, coming in and finding every space in the library full, ruined my plans. i don’t want to go back to my dorm and be subjected to them debating which UMich hockey player has the cutest smile, so i guess that leaves me with one option; find a seat.

i let loose a sigh and scan the room for who seems to be the quietest. i hate small talk. i find a table with only one person sat at it, a guy with one airpod in and a textbook laid out in front of him, and decide that’s the one. i walk over, fully planning on just motioning to ask if i can sit, but when i come to a stop in front of the table and he doesn’t even look up, i know i’ll have to speak up. i take a deep breath before i let out the quietest ‘excuse me’ known to man. the boy still doesn’t look up from the textbook, and i don’t blame him, he probably didn’t even hear me.

“excuse me.” i say slightly louder. this time the boy finally looks up, but i’m struck on what to say. suddenly, all the mentally rehearsed words have left my mind. this may be the cutest boy i have ever seen.

“can i help you?” his voice is soft. not judgmental or rude like what i would’ve expected from him after i came over and interrupted his studying just to end up staring at him. i shake myself out of my thoughts and give a light nod.

“do you mind if i sit here?” i motion towards a chair diagonal from his. “everywhere else is full.”

the boy nods.

“oh, yeah, go ahead.” i give him a small and grateful smile before depositing myself in the chair. pulling my book and a few highlighters out from my tote bag before hanging it up on the back of my chair. i open my book to where i left off, setting the bookmark on the table. but before i can start reading, the boy speaks up again.

“sorry to interrupt but, you’re reading that for a class?” he asks. for some reason, i take a look at the front cover of my romance novel before talking.

“oh. no. i’m reading this for fun.” i tell him. my voice is quite, my tone soft.

“oh okay. i guess i just assumed you were here to study since everyone else is.” he lets out a breathy chuckle as he shrugs.

“no.” i shake my head before explaining- “i’m here to get away from my dorm-mate and her friends. they’re too loud for me to focus and they keep trying to get me to weigh in on their debates.”

“what are they debating?” he asks.

“well, when i left it was which Wolverines hockey player has the cutest smile.” i tell him, rolling my eyes.

“and who did you say?” he seems curious, and almost amused.

“no one.” i shrug. “i don’t know what any of them look like.”

he lets out a quiet laugh.

“well you know what one of them looks like now.” he says. my brows form a v and i’m about to ask him to clarify but then it hits me. oh. he’s a hockey player.

“oh.” is my awkward response.

“i’m Luke Hughes.” he smiles at me. well, i have my answer for the next debate now.

“i’m y/n.” i tell him. “nice to meet you.”

“you too.” he finally looks back down at his textbook, and i’m relieved to be free of any more small talk.

the next hour or so passes by silently, and i manage to finish the last 75 pages of my book without any interruptions. i close my book, and put my stuff back in my tote bag, at the same time that an alarm goes off on Luke’s phone. he turns it off and starts packing his stuff up as well. we stand simultaneously, and he sends me a quick amused expression. my steps to the exit are slow, and Luke falls in line with me, slowing his steps to match mine.

“my frat is having a party on Friday, you should come. collect some more data for the next debate.” he smirks, and i rack my brain for a nice way to say that i don’t do parties.

“i’m not really a party person.” i say.

“then what kind of person are you?” he asks. his eyes fall down my body before he looks back up to my face.

“um, the reading type, i guess? i don’t really like doing the whole people thing.” i confess. he nods in understanding.

“well, if you change your mind, come. and if you need to escape your dorm again, i’ll be here tomorrow, same time.” he winks before splitting off, walking the opposite direction as me.

my entire walk to my dorm, i rethink every word we shared, wondering if i sounded stupid. i mean, i would assume not because he didn’t seem put off by me, but who knows, maybe he’s just a good actor. he was really cute though, gosh i hope i didn’t unknowingly embarrass myself.

opening the door to my dorm, i’m disappointed to see that Alex and her friends are still here. they don’t usually hang out this long on a wednesday evening. and i have to hold back an eye roll when i realize that it doesn’t sound they’ve changed their topic of conversation at all since i’ve left. logically, i’m sure it has and they just circled back onto this topic, but i honestly wouldn’t be surprised if it was all they were talking about the past couple hours.

“y/n! you didn’t answer before you left, so please, settle this for us!” one of them, Jess, says as she spots me. “which UMich hockey player has the best smile? i say Ethan Edwards, Alex says Rutger McGroarty, and Becca says Mark Estapa!”

my mind wanders back to the boy i was conversing with not too long ago and before i can think twice, i blurt out- “Luke Hughes.”

“you think so?” Becca asks “i feel like he rarely ever smiles. it’s so hard to get one out of him.”

“really?” i ask. they must be exaggerating, he smiled at me earlier. although, i think he was just being friendly.

“yeah! i have a class with him this semester and i swear he frowned at me when i tried to introduce myself. i mean, he’s still hot, but still.” Becca replies, shrugging.

“oh.” i say. what does that mean? if he wasn’t friendly to her when they met, then why would he smile and be friendly with me?

“oooh y/n is blushing! i think she likes him!” Alex coos.

“i don’t like him.” i turn away, letting my hair fall in front of me to hide my apparently pink cheeks. i set my tote bag on my desk chair and slip my shoes off before taking a seat on my bed.

“i think she does!” Jess joins in on the teasing, and now i’m regretting having left the solitude of the library. “a bit of an odd match, you two.”

i’m not sure whether i should be offended by her statement or not, but for some reason i am. i don’t plan on dating him, but hearing her say we wouldn’t match together makes me feel insulted.

“what is that supposed to mean?” i retort.

“she didn’t mean anything by it.” Alex defends her friend. “she’s just saying, Luke is an extrovert, he likes to party and let loose, he has a lot of friends. and you’re… the opposite. i don’t think i’ve seen you go out once in the entire school year that we’ve shared a room. you keep to yourself. like, we’ve been trying to include you so that you’re not lonely, but you always say you’re going to the library. you and Luke just don’t seem like you’d fit together.”

“i didn’t ask you to include me. i like being alone. people are draining.” i say. i don’t like their pity on me. it’s not like i don’t have friends. i do. we’re just all introverted and our hangouts between classes is enough social interaction for us. we don’t care for going out partying on weekends or anything. if we do want to hang out on the weekend, we’ll usually do a movie night at Casey and Ellie’s apartment. but the way Alex explains it makes my life sound pitiful, and it makes me defensive, so before i can stop myself, i speak again. “and for your information, i’m going to a party on friday.”

the trio gasps, as though this information is scandalous.

“oh my god, are you going the party at Hockey House?” Becca asks. ‘hockey house’, the nickname for the frat house in which most of the UMich hockey players live. the frat is comprised solely of hockey players, so i guess the nickname makes sense. “for Luke?”

“yes, i’m going to the party. but no, not for Luke.” i tell them. why did i say i was going to that party? i hate parties. i even already told Luke so.

**

friday evening has come, and i can’t even back out of going to the party because Alex, Becca, and Jess have decided we should carpool together. so now i’m stuck in this commitment.

when Becca and Jess arrive to pick Alex and i up, i become aware that i’m the only one not wearing a dress or skirt of some kind. instead i’m dressed casual, in jeans and a tank top, paired with an oversized cardigan to keep me protected from the evening breeze. but it’s too late to change now.

arriving to the party is a hassle on its own, with the girls fussing over whether they look good enough to bag a hockey player, and having a hard time finding a parking spot. and when we finally walk into the party, i immediately want to leave. music is blasting from multiple speakers, everyone is holding a stereotypical red solo cup, and the house is packed. i’m quickly forgotten about by the other girls, them walking off to get drinks and stop to have conversations with a few of the hockey guys. i still don’t actually know any of the players names, besides Luke.

i scan the room, but i’m not entirely sure what i’m looking for. or who. all my friends are probably laying in bed right now. before i can even figure out who i’m looking for, i hear my name being called.

“y/n!” i turn my head towards the voice and find a guy from my ‘intro to business’ class coming towards me. i think his name is Dylan, but it seems like everyone just calls him Duke. “never seen you at a party before!”

“yeah, it’s not usually my scene.” i tell him with an awkward smile.

“i figured. you give me more of the ‘reading in my room’ vibes.” he laughs.

“am i that obvious?” i joke. he laughs again and nods.

“you look pretty out of place. let me introduce you to some of my friends.” he takes ahold of my wrist and pulls me towards a group of guys in the kitchen. i’m immediately uncomfortable, they all seem intimidating, and i’m not great around boys. we get closer to the group and Duke begins to introduce me. “guys, this is-”

“y/n! you came!” i look over to see Luke, and i can’t help the smile that breaks out on my face when i see his wide grin. he slings an arm around my shoulders, and Duke’s jaw drops.

“THIS is the y/n you’ve been talking about? the one from the library?” Duke asks. i can feel my face heating up. he’s been talking about me? i hope he’s not saying anything bad about me.

“yup. this is my future girlfriend.” Luke exclaims, and i choke on my own spit.

what?! we barely know anything about each other! all i know is his name is Luke, he has the prettiest smile i’ve ever seen, and he plays hockey. pretty sure all he knows about me is my name and that i have an annoying roommate.

“hm. an odd match.” Duke ponders. there’s that phrase again! but now seeing Luke in his natural habitat, partying and joking with friends, and even just him being so confident, i can’t help but wonder if Duke and the girls are right. Luke and i do seem to contrast each other.

“what’s that supposed to mean?” Luke asks defensively.

“hey, i’m not saying that’s a bad thing!” Duke rebuts. “you guys are just kinda… opposites of each other.”

“opposites attract.” Luke shrugs. i’m kind of confused. does my opinion matter? Luke seems pretty confident that i like him back.

“uh, Luke.” i speak up. he looks down at me where i’m still tucked into his side. “we don’t really know anything about each other.”

“when you know, you know.” he shrugs.

**5 YEARS LATER**

i stare up at my now husband from my seat beside him with watery eyes and a soft smile.

“and i told her, ‘when you know, you know.’” he looks back down at me from his standing position. “and i knew. from the first time we met, i knew this would be the girl i spend the rest of my life with.”

everyone in the reception hall claps as Luke ends his speech. he gives me a soft kiss on the cheek before whispering in my ear.

“you got this, baby.” his hand clasps my shaky one and gives it a quick tight squeeze. i take one big deep breath and stand up, i hate public speaking, but i wrote my speech and i will read it.

“i didn’t know. well, at least not as quick as Luke.” a few people chuckle at that. “but what i do know, is that i went to my first party for him. which spoke volumes for me. and i thought he had the most amazing smile to ever exist.”

i look down at Luke and see the grin spread across his face.

“look, there it is!” i point to him as i look back at the reception hall full of our friends and family and everyone laughs. “i still think it’s the best smile, but i might be biased now. when we started dating, we had people calling us an odd match, i even had a friend compare us to ‘snow on the beach.’ she said we were ‘weird but beautiful.’”

“i used to think it was an insult, but now i look back and realize, our friends were right, we are an odd match.” i look back at Luke and now it’s my turn to smile. he takes ahold of my hand, squeezing it as a few tears roll down my cheeks. i finish my speech while maintaining eye contact with him. “but i like our differences, we balance each other out, and i can’t imagine what my life would be like if i hadn’t liked your confidence so much that night. i’m so grateful that i get to spend the rest of my life calling myself your wife.”

Luke stands, winding his arms around my waist and pulling me in for a sweet, slow kiss. i can hear everyone clapping, and someone lets out a loud “WOOO!”

i can distinctly tell that was Jack, and it makes me interrupt the kiss with a giggle. Luke just takes that chance to pull back and pepper my face in pecks. blood rushes to my face at the thought of our family and friends watching him do this, but he doesn’t care. his confidence is a constant, no room for embarrassment.

yeah, maybe my friend was right; Luke and i are like snow on the beach. at first glance, we’re an unlikely duo, different in a lot of ways, but we make a great couple and our love is beautiful.

[66stitches]

abby anderson request !! :)

i wanted something where abby is starting to doubt her sexuality and trusts reader to ask questions and just talk about it (reader is a lesbian and they're close friends, it can end up with them kissing — or more, if you're comfortable)

cw: sfw, kissing (a lot of it), descriptions of masturbation (abby), talk of sexuality and questioning sexuality, no physical description of reader

Daily click - Palestine masterpost - TLOU and israel

a/n: thank you for the req !! I don’t write full on smut unfortunately (though I might write some short stuff in the future), but I tried to write a few kinda sexual scenes here and there

wc: idk prob like 1k

divider creds

Abby loved Owen, truly. She was attracted to him: that is what she kept convincing herself of everyday.

Every moment with Owen was a new lie she fed herself.

He was the man she loved. There was nothing she doubted in her relationship with him. The absence of love’s warmth meant to fill her body was her own fault; her inability to reach climax when they had sex was a problem for which only she was to blame.

It doesn’t mean she never tried, though. Abby had spent nights attempting to pleasure herself to the thought of Owen: the only person she should be thinking of; the only person supposed to be capable of reaching her to her climax.

And yet, all she felt was nothing. She laid in her bed, carnal and romantical dissatisfaction utterly consuming her. She was convinced that she was simply incapable of experiencing any sort of attraction exceeding platonicity.

But it only grew more confusing from there.

In another one of her inevitably futile attempts of bringing herself to climax to the thought of Owen, she felt her mind begin to drift to another thought that would hopefully bring her to that much desired release.

She didn’t intend for it to, but the man was just not doing it for her.

That night, she thought of a woman.

That night, she came so hard she swore she could see stars.

A specific woman she thought of in particular, but she would never admit who it was that finally relieved that ache. Not even in the confines of her own thoughts.

And so here she found herself, seated on the soft cushion of your worn-out couch.

You were Abby’s sole friend who was openly lesbian. Abby had seen you bring women over numerous times before. She had listened to your rants about your sexual and romantic encounters with women.

She even helped set you up with one, which harbored a slight odd feeling in the pit of her stomach for a reason she couldn’t quite decipher.

She had thought of it many times: what it was like being with a woman. She didn’t really know what to make of those thoughts. Whether it was mere curiosity, or perhaps something more.

And now here she sat next to you, trying to find the confidence to speak.

She never found it hard to confide in you. Of course not, you were her dearest friend. But this dilemma of hers was difficult to merely utter aloud, even if it is only to herself.

You were on your phone when Abby spoke.

“So… you’re gay,” she started, and she wanted to strike herself as soon as the words left her mouth, because of course you were gay. What kind of opening is that?

“Good observation?” You chuckled, bemused. You placed your phone down, curious as to where she was going with this.

“What’s it like? You know, being with a woman,” she asked, already regretting bringing it up, but she just needed some certainty.

Your eyebrows twisted in confusion at the inquiry. You and Abby were comfortable enough to share anything with each other. Nothing was considered too much information or too uncomfortable to talk about.

It was just an odd question coming from Abby, who you thought was so sure of her sexuality.

“I guess it’s like how it feels for you being with a man.”

God, she hoped not.

“Why?” You asked.

“Just curious, that’s all. Wanna understand your sexuality more, educate myself,” she spoke rather timidly.

You laughed softly. “Oh, because you’re so woke, right?”

Abby could tell you didn’t believe her. In all fairness, she didn’t really put much effort into trying to sound the least bit credible.

She didn’t even know why she was lying to you right now. She trusted you, she always has. This was just a difficult truth to face.

“I don’t know. I’m just feeling a little confused, I guess,” she confessed, shrugging.

“About your sexuality?” Your voice was slow, but your heart beat quicker than ever before.

You would be lying if you said you didn’t find Abby attractive. You’ve always had a little childish crush on the blonde, but you constantly found yourself trying to shove your feelings aside, somewhere far away so it could no longer reach to gnaw at your heart.

But now this — this made it all different. You might be getting slightly ahead of yourself, but you can’t help but think that now you might have the smallest chance with her.

“I don’t know— I mean, yeah, I guess,” she said as she fiddled with the seams of her shirt. “Owen’s just never really made me feel… well, anything. Anything you’re supposed to feel with a partner, I don’t feel it. I thought maybe the problem was Owen specifically, but I’ve come to realize that it’s not.”

“But women get you going?”

“I think so,” she admitted, finally. “I tried to think about a woman last night, while, you know…” she trailed off, her skin suddenly feeling very hot at the confession.

“And?” You whispered, feeling just as hot at her confession. “Was it just what you were missing?”

Abby went quiet for a moment, then she answered. “Yeah, it was.”

It was silent. Abby still looked like she had something to say, so you offered no response for a moment.

“But how could I know? I’ve never tried anything romantic or sexual with another woman, so how would I be able to tell? I could just be confused,” she said.

You were quiet, contemplating your next words. What you were about to do could either ruin your friendship, or elevate it to something more. You were relying on the latter.

“You wanna try?” You asked. Your voice sounded bold, but everything within you was shaking with apprehension.

She offered naught but an incredulous look. Her eyes were blown wide, disbelieving.

“What?”

Well, shit.

“I mean, solely for experimental purposes, of course. A kiss shared with another woman, just to be certain,” you explained.

The tension was thick, almost palpable. You were nervous at Abby’s silence and you realized that this is where your boldness gets you.

You were ready for her harsh rejection and the revulsion that would surely be evident in her voice, but then she spoke.

“Okay,” she said. Not a hint of revulsion in her tone. You didn’t know it, but her heart beat just as quick as yours.

“Really?” You asked, surprised as if you hadn’t been the one to offer.

“Well, yeah,” she leaned in slightly, bringing her face closer to yours. “Just for experimental purposes, right?”

“Yeah, sure,” you breathed. You brought your face to hers, and in a split second you closed the gap between you, meeting each other in a slow kiss, your eyes fluttering shut.

Her lips were soft. Her kiss felt nervous, lacking confidence, yet it still exceeded every expectation.

You pulled away once you felt it was enough. You looked at her and waited for what she had to say.

“Oh yeah, I’m definitely gay,” she said and pushed your face right back into hers, meeting your lips in a much more heated kiss.

This kiss, however, held the confidence the previous one lacked, her lips moving skillfully against yours. You waited for the shock to wear off before kissing her back, clearly not expecting her to want more.

You disconnected your lips once again, pulling her face away from yours. “Abby—”

“Just need-” she interrupted her own words to press another swift peck to your lips. “A little more-” another kiss. “Just to make sure,” she said, finally and pulled you in for another kiss. She cupped your burning cheeks with her palms and slipped her tongue into your mouth.

What was supposed to be an innocent kiss, solely for the sake of experiment (how the thought made you laugh now), turned into her exploring your mouth with her tongue and pushing her body against yours. This kiss held no place for innocence now.

She softly moaned into your mouth, the sound vibrating throughout your body.

She used her thumb to lightly caress your cheek as she kissed you like her life depended on it. She slightly pulled apart then, nibbling on your bottom lip with her teeth.

As the kiss came to an end, you sat staring at each other, breathless, and oh so blissful.

“You wanna know something?” Abby asked with a dumb smile on her face which brought another smile upon your own. You hummed.

“It was you,” she started, still faintly breathless. “You were who I thought of.”

Your eyebrows rose at the confession. It was unexpected, but certainly not disliked.

What you were more surprised at, though, was how casually she said it, seemingly too blissed out at the moment for any feeling of embarrassment.

“You telling me I was your gay awakening?” You asked, grinning.

“You could say that.” She shrugged and scratched at the back of her neck.

You laughed and scooted closer to her. “Well, I guess I’m honored then,” you said.

“Alright,” she rolled her eyes and laughed. She leaned in then, craving more of your taste.

You giggled into the kiss and pulled away, licking your lips to savor her intoxicating taste.

“I think we’ve already come to the conclusion that you’re gay. You still want more?”

She brought her face closer again and caressed your cheeks. She was close enough that you could feel her breath against your lips.

“Yes,” she breathed. “Now shut up and let me kiss you.”

[doqt33th]

SINGULARITY

MIRAGE/READER

SUMMARY: You and Mirage have been pining for each other for a while now. A nasty summer storm drives you straight into his arms. Shenanigans ensue.

WORD COUNT: 18k. Sorry I’m insane

WARNINGS: 18+ and I CANNOT STRESS THAT ENOUGH!! Explicit PWP, fingering + oral (fem receiving), penetrative sex, mild spit kink. Reader is fem and uses she/her pronouns but is written fairly androgynous. No descriptors of appearance beyond the basics and no (y/n) used.

Familiar streets flashed by at increasing speeds, traffic and pedestrians flickering by and blurring together into a smorgasbord of color, all gilded by the setting sun. Unconsciously, you dug your fingers into the seams of the leather seat beneath you, worrying the stitches. Out of the corner of your eye, the radio blazed to life with color and that oh-so-familiar symbol.

“Hey, hey, easy on the merchandise, hot stuff,” Mirage crackled out of the speakers lightheartedly, and you immediately yanked your hands into yourself like they’d been burned. In your worrying, you’d seemingly forgotten about what — or rather, who — exactly was your ride.

“Oh— my bad, I wasn’t thinking,” you said, sinking your weight back and down, instead picking at your nails to give your hands something to do. God, you were so nervous, and for what? Mirage knew all these people— these bots, and knew them well. They were all friends! Or amiable towards each other, at the very least. And they were the good guys. Saved the world and all that.

So why were you so anxious?

“You’re good, don’t worry ‘bout it.” He slowed to a stop at a red light. Your leg started to bounce. “Sooo… you wanna tell me what’s on your mind? Save me a trip to Noah’s repair shop? I’d hate for you to start taking your emotions out on me, y’know.”

You scoffed, eyes sliding to the radio. The grin that pulled at the corners of your mouth was one you were helpless to stop. He just had that effect on you, where around him you became a slave to your laughter and, additionally, also became one half of a terrible joke machine that Mirage happily completed.

Leather creaked as you nudged the inside of the door with your boot to chastise him. “You love when I take my emotions out on you, dick. Don’t lie.”

“Only the good ones,” he shot back, and you could hear the grin in his voice. “You nervous about meeting the others?”

His probe was successful; you fought the urge to shrink at your feelings being read so accurately and so immediately. “I— yeah. I am, and I don’t even know why. I’m sure they’re all great, I’m just working myself up over nothing.”

Red faded to green. Carried on the tide of forward-moving traffic, Mirage rolled ahead, eventually slipping over to make a turn. You watched him twist his mirrors to check his blind spot.

“Ah, c’mon. Nobody could blame you, you’re meeting a bunch of aliens for the first time. Pretty trippy for anyone. ‘specially if those aliens are, like, double your size. And robots.” A short chuckle topped off his words.

“Right. I just don’t wanna fuck it up or embarrass myself, you know how it is. I don’t wanna embarrass you, either.”

“Oh, Primus, trust me. You’re not gonna embarrass me. I don’t even think that’s possible. Prime’s seen me in a lot worse shape than bringing you in to meet him.” The world continued to roll by. Brick buildings blotted out the sunshine in intermittent flashes. “You got good marks from your favorite bot, you’ll be fine.” The dismissive tone of his voice was working, in a weird way, to assuage your fears.

“Excuse me,” you said, crossing your arms over your chest pointedly. “My favorite bot?”

“What, am I not?” A downright theatrical gasp hissed out of the speaker. “Have you been cheating on me?”

Cheeks hot with a flush at even the joking insinuation of being together, you glanced away from the impassive Autobot symbol on the radio and out the window. Still, the laugh barked out of you was sudden and sharp, and quickly dissolved into giggles. “Yes. Mirage. I’m sorry. There’s another ten foot tall alien robot in Brooklyn that’s been vying for my attention. We’re done.”

“I should throw you out on the street right now,” Mirage fussed playfully, his evident pout tinging his voice. “For breakin’ my spark. Also I’m taller than that.”

“You wouldn’t dare. I’m fragile.”

“I dunno. Noah gets his ass kicked around pretty good and he’s still kickin’ it.”

“I am not Noah,” came your tongue-in-cheek rebuttal. “And Noah just refuses to give up even when it’s good for him.”

“Thought qualities like determination were supposed to be big things with you guys.”

“In moderation.”

Mirage barked a laugh. “Ha! Should tell that to Prime. He’ll blow a gasket.” You opened your mouth to reply, only to be cut off. “No, seriously, tell it to Prime, we’re here.”

The easy confidence that your playful back-and-forth had teased out instantly chilled into a dense mass in your stomach; Mirage was rolling slowly up to a nondescript warehouse buried deep within the old industrial part of Brooklyn, and the way the worn brick loomed over you even in the car made your heart rate pick up.

Now or never.

Familiar alien whirs and clicks of shifting and setting metal filled your ears as Mirage rose into his bipedal mode, the driver’s seat gently ejecting you onto your own two legs on the pavement. Following the motion, you took a few steps forward, but still balked a little at the half open door. Inside, you heard voices of varying timbre, and you fought the urge to turn tail.

Now. Or. Never. Gritted teeth accompanied the repetition of your thought.

The displacement of air behind you — and the soft, constant mechanical noises emanating from his body — signaled Mirage’s presence before his voice.

He said your name with surprising care, using a tone that only came out when he was really being sincere. You couldn’t help the way your face warmed at it as you turned, craning your neck up to meet his gaze. “Hey, you, uh, you want me to go in ahead of ya? Normally I’d be like ‘ladies first’ and all that, but you said you weren’t feeling too jazzed about going in—“

“Yeah, actually, if you could, that would be… great. That would be great.”

“Gotcha. Let you psych yourself up a little more before you go in, I see how it is. Let me do the talking,” he affirmed with an easy grin and a nod, bouncing on the balls of his pedes a few times before striding forward. His long legs folded easily under him as he ducked under the lowered garage door, and you traipsed after, smoothing your thumb over your knuckles repeatedly.

The warehouse yawned beyond you, orange shafts of light cutting gashes into otherwise brownish darkness. Old graffiti sprayed across the walls told you that Ramona had been there once, then Nick, then Darnell, and a million others. And you were there now, feeling impossibly small, yes, but a little more resilient with the fading sunlight at your back and Mirage, like always, at your side.

He’d become a permanent fixture in your life from the day you’d met him — when you’d strong-armed Noah into giving up his secret about his Porsche, and the mysterious car had ended up being a twelve-foot-tall robot with a literal motormouth that made a playful pass at you within the first hour of your first conversation. You’d been flustered out of your mind, but had just kept coming back out of unfettered curiosity and outright fascination. Aliens were real, and Noah was friends with one, and it— he could turn into a Porsche.

Mind-shattering observations on the surface, yes. Mirage tended to deflate the grandeur, though, because he never acted like aliens did in the movies or in books. There was no ‘We come in peace!’ bullshit. He was so easy. Everything with him was so easy. He was loudmouthed and extroverted and genuinely hilarious; you spent hours in Noah’s garage trading terrible jokes — mostly bad sexual innuendos — or buckled to Mirage’s driver’s seat as he flew down Central Avenue on the wrong side of the limit and blasted Haddaway so loud it nearly busted your eardrums.

Weird to say an alien robot was your friend, but he was. He gave you rides to work, to your lectures, to your labs, wherever; in fact, he got petulant when you dared to take the bus one day to give him a break, and made it a point to pry your routine out of you so that he could take you wherever you wanted, no fares needed. 

So infuriating. You loved it.

You loved… maybe more than just the back-and-forth. Maybe more than the bad jokes. Maybe more than the late-night drives. You were starting to think— starting to realize you loved big blue optics, and the rumble of a 260 horsepower engine when you made just the right innuendo, and broad, incredibly intricate servos that dwarfed yours in size but were so, so careful…

Man. You tried not to think about it too much. It as a concept made you laugh with its own absurdity. Poor human chick fell in love with the giant alien robot that made her laugh. It wasn’t… debilitating. You still functioned like a normal adult. Mostly. Except for that one night like two weeks ago where you’d been arguing with him about some stupid shit and he’d scooped you up, right off the ground, in both servos and held you there, digits interlaced against your back and thumbs on your front.

It wasn’t the first time he’d ever held you like that — he’d done it a few times — but something was different that night… even if he’d only done it to gain an upper hand in your bickering. The air crackled with latent electricity, made your skin buzz in all the right places, especially when Mirage had gone quiet for once in his life as he stared at you in his grasp. When you’d prompted him with his name, he’d only responded by gently stroking a thumb over the swell of your chest, which had made you gasp air in so sharply that it burned in your throat. The metal left a tingling path on your skin under your shirt in its wake and immediately sent your heart rate skyrocketing past whatever the fuck was a normal BPM.

He’d snapped back to reality at the sudden expansion of your lungs and had attempted to play it all off as a joke. You remembered how you’d still stumbled when your shoes touched the ground, an absolutely insane feeling of genuine heat rocking you as your brain seized the feeling of his touch while it still sparked against your nerve endings and helpfully replayed it over and over and over again. Sure, the rhythm of banter came back after a stuttering beat, but you never really cooled the warmth on your face for the rest of that night — and when Mirage had dropped you off at your apartment, your door was shut and locked for about five minutes before your shaking hand was frantically worked beneath the waistband of your pants.

…Whew. Definitely something a little more than friendly there. Maybe even more than pure love, something a little slicker and deeper that buzzed against your bones and coiled low in your stomach. It made you feel a little weird — just objectively, because of what Mirage was — but damn if it didn’t feel good to indulge.

God, fuck, why were you thinking about that now, of all times? Escapist fantasies be damned, you were going to meet Mirage’s comrades-friends-coworkers and leave a good impression. Not drool over the worn-out memory replaying in your head for the thousandth time this week.

Out of the darkness and around corners, they emerged. The stealth wasn’t on purpose; you didn’t even think they could be stealthy. Oh, one was coming right for you now — tall was the only word your brain could muster. Tall and red and square were added to the list of adjectives as the stately bot approached, servos collected into fists at his sides and shoulders thrown back.

“Priiiime,” Mirage greeted warmly, throwing his arms out at his sides in his favorite pose. “Look, hey, I know what you said about bringing more people around, but I swear— Hey!”

Completely ignoring your friend’s (status pending) greeting, the bot— Prime, holy shit, this is THE Prime, was kneeling down, leaning forward, and he was right in your face. You fought the very biological urge to flinch. Blue optics considered you for a moment before narrowing and flicking to your right from his lowered position.

“Mirage,” Optimus started with a gravelly tone  from behind his faceguard that communicated exasperation above all else. “I explicitly stated that for our safety — and yours — that we were to come in contact with no more humans.”

“Sir, I gotta be honest with you. Kinda hard on a planet that’s got, what, five billion of ‘em? Six?” Mirage glanced at you for backup. You stared back flatly, refusing to say anything that might put you on the business end of a laser cannon.

“You were told to remain incognito so you could recover.” Optimus continued, his gaze returning to you. With a shunk of shifting metal, his faceplate slid away. His faceplates were weathered; the chipped metal around his optics gave the illusion of wrinkles and eyebags. Tired. He seemed tired. “This is not incognito. What is your name?”

You gave it after taking a beat to steady yourself. He repeated it back to you. “How did you come in contact with Mirage?”

“I, uh— Noah, Noah Diaz, he’s my friend. I basically pried it out of him,” you said with a nervous laugh. “So it’s not Mirage’s fault. I’m just nosy.”

At the mention of Noah, Optimus seemed to visibly relax; he moved back slightly, though he remained kneeling, and the narrowed, suspicious squint of his optics rounded out into something much softer.

“…I see. Then I assume you understand the… precarious nature of our existence on your planet.” he said, his tone grave and his optics searching your face.

You nodded, pressing the flesh of the inside of your cheek between your teeth for a moment as you came up with a suitably diplomatic response that still conveyed your friendliness. “I do, yeah. Noah told me most of it. What he could, anyway. I just wanted to make it clear that I’m not— I’m not a threat here. Like I don’t work with the, uh, the government or anything. Whatever you guys need help with, I’m available, even if that just means keeping my mouth shut.”

Christ, you were glad this wasn’t your day job. You’d be such a shit ambassador. I’m available. What the hell did that even mean? Fuck yes, you were available, your brain guffawed, thinking of broad metal thumbs brushing over your chest.

You blinked hard, squeezing your eyelids together until the world came back in a photo negative, to scold yourself.

Although you’d stumbled through your reply, Optimus seemed to approve. He rose with a great creak of metal off of his knee and backed up to give you space, though he still regarded you with those sharp blue optics that felt as though they pinned you to the concrete below. “I see Noah chooses his company well. I should have assumed his sentiments would extend to his companions.” He shut his optics for a moment and dipped his head, as if considering deeply what to say next. “I am not sure how much Mirage — or Noah — divulged to you.”

“A fair amount— well. Any amount that won’t get them in trouble,” you called up, taking in deeper breaths to project your voice up the two stories of height to his head. To your side, Mirage snorted. “I know your name— Optimus, I know that, and I know about the Autobots. A little bit about the— fuck, what were they called—“

“Terrorcons?” Mirage supplied, and you were impressed at how quiet he’d been otherwise.

“Terrorcons, thank you. Other than that, not much. How much should I know?”

“Your knowledge is sufficient. All we fear — and all we risk—“ Optimus added with a pointed look at Mirage, who looked incredibly sheepish. “—at the moment is discovery. So long as you maintain secrecy, no harm shall come to us… or you, for that matter.”

It almost sounded like a threat, but Prime worded it very much like a warning. You decided it was best to heed his word — not that you really had another option.

“Right. Okay. Well— I mean, it was nice to meet you. People — humanity, I guess — aren’t bad. Most of us aren’t, anyway. Just, uh, let me know if there’s something Noah and I can get or do for you.”

Prime’s gaze shifted away from you. In fact, it seemed to shift away from the warehouse in general, looking somewhere far beyond the now-shut garage door. “Your generosity is admirable, but it is not humans primarily that we are concerned with.”

Brows furrowed at his vague answer, you thought it over for a second — and then decided not to push it. He probably knew best when it came to whatever foreboding nebulous space threat loomed over your collective heads; you would leave it up to the experts.

“Oh, well, golden rule and all that,” you still offered in terms of a response. That got his attention. His massive head tilted downwards to look at you once more with curiosity. “If I crash landed on someone else’s planet, I’d want them to be hospitable, y’know? Just trying to make the best of a shitty situation.”

Like he couldn’t handle the terrible punishment of silence anymore, Mirage butted in. “See, Prime? I told you she was cool.”

A short jolt shook the broad, boxy line of his shoulders, and at first you had thought he’d coughed, and then you realized he laughed. It was barely anything, a huff of a chuckle, but you glowed with the indirect affirmation. Just made Optimus Prime laugh. Maybe you weren’t such a terrible diplomat.

He wasn’t looking at you, though, rather at Mirage, and you swore from your low vantage point you could see a barely-there smile on Prime’s faceplates communicating…was that smug amusement? As the tall bot carefully made his way past you, he stopped in front of your companion, and let a heavy servo land on the headlight adorning his shoulder.

“No matter what you may feel, you chose well, Mirage.” Optimus rumbled out, before removing his servo and traipsing off into a darker section of the sprawling warehouse, ducking through a much-too-small cutout and speaking to Arcee about something indistinguishable. However, you couldn’t care less about whatever her and Prime were discussing — what the hell did he mean by Mirage choosing well?

You turned your head towards said bot, mouth open for inquiry and one brow raised. Mirage looked mortified, in every sense of the word; he stood shell-shocked, lips slightly parted and servos up and open as if to defend himself. His head was whipped around to follow Prime’s departure from the room. A whir started, bouncing off the walls — Mirage’s fans came on and off intermittently to keep his ambient internal temperature at safe levels, but the steady hum of this fan let you infer that he was flushing something fierce.

“Mirage? What—“

Interrupting you by breaking, nearly jumping, out of his trance, he clapped his servos together and started talking at a million miles a minute. “Well, damn, look at that, haha, it’s late, ain’t it? You got work in the morning, right? C’mon, hop in, I’ll drive you home—“

“No, Mirage, hold on, what was he talking about—“

“Seriously, c’mon, he was just messing around—“

“You’re telling me Optimus Prime was joking? Is he even capable of that?”

He said your name with a finality that nearly made you flinch. “Look, I can’t really— Just drop it, please?” It wasn’t angry, nor was it even commanding; in fact, his eyes were wide and pleading with you out of embarrassment. You knew the feeling all too well, and in the interest of sparing his feelings, decided to let it go, despite your intense curiosity.

You put your hands up in surrender. “Okay. Dropped.” A few beats of silence passed while Mirage was still tamping down his fluster. “You wanna take me home now or are we waiting for Prime to come embarrass you more?”

“Please, let’s get outta here,” he affirmed, dropping into his alt-mode and popping the driver door for you. As you slid in, you couldn’t help the little mischievous smile that grew on your face as your brain cooked up some other joke to take the edge off.

The garage door opened on its own. Mirage rolled into the noticeably darker alleyway. The burnt umber glow of the sunset-stained sky was only visible overhead; otherwise you were boxed in on the sides by blacked-out buildings.

Stifling silence was broken by a joke. Your joke, actually. “…Can’t believe your dad made fun of you in front of me.”

The noise Mirage made was only comparable to a squawk. But obviously much more masculine, clearly. Still, his tires jerked on the road, betraying his surprise. “Hey— Prime is not my sire— or dad, or whatever you wanna call ‘em. He wishes.”

“I dunno,” you mused, arms crossed over your chest and back sunk deep into the seat. Brooklyn in transition blurred by in messy constellations of lit windows. “He got you pretty good there. Pretty standard dad behavior.”

“Hey, I don’t know what suddenly inspired him to go for comedy, but I do not appreciate it. That’s my thing. He’s stealin’ my thunder!”

“Maybe you’re just rubbing off on him.”

Silence.

The radio crackled. “Ew.”

Accompanied by the loudest eyeroll you could muster, you whacked the dashboard with an open palm, though you couldn’t stop your bubbling laughter. “Oh my god, you are so gross, Mirage! I hate you!”

“Ahh, don’t say that, c’mon! You love it here!”

“You wish.”

The rest of the ride home was spent that way, bickering like normal, and although you couldn’t let go of what Prime had said, nor his knowing look while he said it, you appreciated the return to baseline. When you got home, Mirage parked directly in front of your apartment building, and you lingered on the sidewalk for several minutes after you got out of the car. With the passenger door opened so it looked like you were talking to the ‘driver’ and not completely insane, you leaned on the doorframe and traded jabs with your ride until the humidity of the night air got a little too persistent to ignore. Damn you, Brooklyn. 

“See you tomorrow?” Mirage never said goodnight. He only ever asked when he could see you again, corny bastard.

“Tomorrow. My roommate’ll take me to work, don’t worry about it. I’ll just stick my head in the garage when I get home.”

“I thought we had a thing goin’, man!” His faux petulance returned. “You movin’ on already? You just met my folks!”

Your jaw dropped for a second at the fact he’d turned the damn bit around on you. “I met one folk, and you literally said he wasn’t your dad.”

“Maybe I was warmin’ up to the idea!”

Another lethal eyeroll. Your smile still remained locked on your face. “Whatever. Get the hell out of here, asshole,” you said, playfully shutting the door just a little harder than you needed to and slapping the roof like a horse you were trying to send off into the desert.

Even as you turned to walk into your building, you could hear the way his window shot down, far faster than a normal roll. “Ay! Merchandise!”

You stuck a middle finger over your shoulder, thumb out and all, to give him an idea of what he could do with his merchandise. Tires peeled against pavement as he screeched out of his spot and down the otherwise quiet street, letting you know in return how he felt about that.

Smiling like an idiot as you climbed the stairs to your apartment, you felt… airy. You were always smiling after hanging around Mirage, you couldn’t help it — especially as of late. But still, you were dying to know what Prime was talking about when he was messing with Mirage earlier. You chose well. Chose what? Your brain briefly entertained the thought of Mirage returning what you felt, and it made blood rush to your face.

It couldn’t really… work. You had made peace with your physical differences weeks ago. The both of you got along just fine despite the size difference, and it never impeded your normal interactions. But you doubted Mirage felt the same; no matter how familiar, how friendly you were with him, you could never shake the feeling of being just a little too alien. Your greatest similarities were in personality. The closest resemblance you held physically was the fact you were both humanoid in shape.

That didn’t stop you. No, not at all. It didn’t stop you from dropping into bed after a quick shower with a heavy sigh, your hand inevitably sinking beneath the covers as you thought of digits — Mirage’s digits, so well articulated for their size and so careful — playing with the hem of your underwear instead of your own fingers, pushing the fabric aside just a little roughly to explore your alien anatomy. It took very little time for you to grind yourself to climax; in fact, it was embarrassingly quick, and it left your face hot with some special kind of shame as you slunk out of bed to wash your hands. The entire time, you avoided your reflection in the mirror.

Even with the ancient AC cranked on and chugging away, it took you a long while to fall asleep.

Off in the industrial district of Brooklyn, meanwhile, Mirage was burning rubber as he took ninety-degree turns at sixty miles per hour. His processor was thrumming at max capacity, and his engine felt like it was about to either stall or explode.

Primus, it was all too much. Your teasing always got him some kind of hot and bothered, tight under his interface paneling, but the acidic rush of embarrassment still prickled at his cabling. Prime, come on, man. Mirage was still floored at the fact that Prime of all bots had embarrassed him like that, in front of you, no less!

He had it bad for you, and he knew it, but apparently every other bot in that warehouse knew it too. Ever since he’d met you, you’d stuck in his processor, the way the light glinted off your eyes and your all-teeth smile and the way he could get you to laugh. Sure, his flirts were only playful at first — and he only did them to mess with Noah, who’d harbored an on-and-off crush on you for a while — but the more he did them and the more you returned them, the more he started really… considering it.

It was so shameful. Primus, it was shameful. He’d barely ever interfaced in his life — there was just no time, especially not on Cybertron — and never with organics. After that one night where he’d hefted you up with ease in both servos and completely blanked when confronted with your soft, warm weight in his hold, he’d been on a spiral. It wasn’t just enough to be friendly with you; he was plenty friendly with Noah (though with the amount of stupid passes Mirage made at him, Noah would probably say too friendly) and he wanted something more with you.

He’d lost count of how many times he’d rolled into some long-abandoned warehouse or pitch-black deserted alley and scrabbled at his interface panel to pressurize his spike before he feverishly, frantically humped his fisted servo for relief, mental processors supplying increasingly filthy fantasies of your soft skin against his chassis and your mouth, Primus, your mouth on his own, on his spike, wherever, he didn’t care. Every single time, though, after coming down from his high with steam pouring off his lax frame, he felt just a little more discouraged than the last — because he knew that his fantasies would have to stay that way. Fantasies. Your friendship was enough, had to be, no matter how bad he wanted you, because he’d be damned to the Pit before he scared you off by being stupid and admitting his feelings.

Ugh. Ugh. He took another corner too hard and felt his tires shriek, let the burn travel upward and reverberate in his frame. The chaos in his mental processors quieted as he neared HQ. All he knew was that it was late, and he couldn’t be too loud or Prime would get on his ass for interrupting his stasis.

Can’t believe your dad made fun of you in front of me. Your voice played, unbidden, from some file that popped open in his memory bank. He willed it away with a vengeance as he rolled into the warehouse-turned-headquarters as quietly as he could, transforming as soon as the door was shut and stretching out his back. Clicking echoed off the walls as his spinal struts reset, and the residual burn in his scraped tires tingled.

Mirage turned, and—

Yelped. Bumblebee was standing right there, shoulder against the wall and fiddling with some holographic projection from his forearm. Mirage coughed into his clenched servo to preserve what was left of his dignity.

“‘Sup,” he greeted through gritted denta. “I, uh, didn’t see you there, man. How’s it hangin’?”

Bee gave him a flatly unamused look that communicated ‘No shit, you didn’t see me.’ very well. The projection phased out of existence and left the two of them in the dimmed space in some kind of standoff.

“Well, y’know, beauty stasis and everything, I’m just gonna—“

“I wanna know, what you’re feeling! Tell me what’s your mind!” burbled Bee’s radio in place of his voice. Mirage jerked back for a second, not expecting Information Society at whatever unholy hour of the morning it was.

“Look, man, I don’t really wanna talk about—“

“There are some things you can’t hide!” insisted the same song. Bee gestured for Mirage to talk. Clearly he wanted to know.

This was as good a time as ever to spill, he guessed.

Mirage groaned and clasped both of his servos over his face after explaining the bones of it, his head tilted upwards, optics fruitlessly searching the water-stained warehouse ceiling for a solution to his problem. His… very human, very embarrassing problem.

Not that he thought you were embarrassing— not at all, never. But Prime would have his head over falling for a human. Okay, well, maybe not his head; it was more like Mirage would be in for a lengthy disapproving speech about responsibilities and goals and distractions, and Primus, just thinking about it made the former option of decapitation the preferable one. Even though he seemed to approve of his choice, considering what he’d said earlier, the ‘Bots were still at war, and there wasn’t time for human distractions. Literal human distractions.

It wasn’t like he could help it. You were funny, okay? And smart. And you teased him in just the right way that made his cooling fans sputter, and you were so curious about… everything about him, he thought, remembering your impromptu Cybertronian anatomy lesson with a hot flash in his processor. He couldn’t help but be flattered by your attention.

“Ugh, Bee, I don’t know what to do, man,” he said despairingly after a moment, pacing in circles in front of said squat yellow bot leaned against the nearby concrete wall. “I mean, look at this, she’d be missin’ out if she said no,” he added, arrogance staining his words in an attempt to console himself. It didn’t work; insecurity eviscerated his bravado moments after he said it. “Or… I guess we’d both be, huh.” A short, self-deprecating laugh left him.

Mirage wasn’t entirely sure why he’d come to Bee of all bots for advice, but he was sure as shit not going to Optimus after today, and Arcee would have just told him anyway. Plus, considering that Wheeljack wasn’t even in the country at the moment, his options were slim. Besides, Bee had… experience with this sort of thing. Dealing with humans and all. Just… not in this way. But it was close enough, and Mirage was totally lost; if he thought about it by himself for any longer, his processors were going to fry.

Speaking of, Bee tittered through his gutted voice synthesizer to get Mirage’s attention. Expression drawn into a very human grimace, Mirage turned to face his friend, servos planted firmly on his hips.

“Well, you gotta tell her— wanna know what love is— want you to show me,” Bee’s radio clipped, first from a talk show, then from a nearby station, and Mirage felt energon surge to his face in a hot rush at a very personal song being blared back at him.

He had the words memorized at this point. The shape of them was practically burned into his memory files, considering how much he played it for you. It was reserved for days on both ends of the spectrum, bad and good; Mirage would pick you up in his alt-mode and take you for joyrides across the city, flying over the Brooklyn Bridge at daredevil speeds, all the while blaring music loud enough to make your head pound.

The two of you had discovered a few favorites, but the Foreigner song was at the top of the list, right next to Careless Whisper, of course. The sound of your voice belting at the top of your lungs, softened with that specific human accent, thrumming and reverberating through your chest— you sounded so alive, but so different from what he was accustomed to.

“Dude—” Mirage nearly barked, voice up a full octave before clearing his synthesizer into his fist and repeating himself. “Dude. I can’t just do that. Aliens— we’re aliens. Well. She’s an alien, too, I guess, but we,” he paused to gesture frantically between himself and Bee, “are the aliens here. I don’t really think humans are into the whole giant robot thing.”

“Noah?” Bee played a clip of Mirage’s own voice back at him questioningly.

“Yeah, well, Noah’s a different story.”

With a whir of his actuators, Bee shook his head and looked away for a moment, big blue optics considering the floor. With a soft clunk, he crossed his arms over his chassis.

“Come on, man, you gotta give me something,” Mirage urged, tilting his head to follow the other bot’s motions. “Should I just leave it? I mean, I don’t want it to be weird, I just—“

Bee straightened up off the wall, clearly done thinking. His arms opened out in a shrug and his optics squinted, communicating I don’t know what you want me to say, dude, far better than his vocal synthesizer ever could have.

His radio clipped again, this time a few seconds of a Beatles song and then Noah’s voice. “She loves you, yeah, yeah, yeah— right?”

“I don’t know, that’s the problem,” Mirage groaned, rolling his head back with a pained expression and letting his body follow the motion as he paced another tight circle. His faceplates felt hot at the insinuation. “And if I ask, it’s gonna be weird. And if I make it weird, I’m never gonna—“

He stopped rambling when a four-digit servo thumped on the headlight atop his shoulder, rooting him to the spot. Bee’s optics stared him down, wide and bright blue, and it made Mirage press his lips together firmly as he awaited whatever sage advice he was about to impart.

ABBA filtered through the radio first. “Should walk right up to her and say—“ What came next made Mirage’s brow ridges shoot up so high he thought they were going to fly off his helmet. “—when I get that feeling, I want sexual healin’!”

Mirage’s jaw dropped. Immensely flustered and ten times more frustrated at his friend’s useless advice, he shoved the other bot off. “Are you serious, dude? Primus, I never shoulda asked you. Thanks, I’ll go walk right up to her and ask to interface on the warehouse floor, that’ll go super well.”

Bee nodded quickly and gave him a double thumbs up with a series of approving beeps and chirps, the bottoms of his optics flattening into an amused look. Mirage dragged his servo down his faceplates in mortification, although his cooling fans kicked on a click higher than normal.

Sometimes he wished he’d been left on Cybertron with Soundwave and all his other goons. This was one of those times. As he dropped back into his alt-mode with an embarrassed mumble about ‘going on patrol,’ Bee whooped behind him, and the last thing Mirage heard before peeling out of the warehouse was “There’s nothin’ wrong with me lovin’ you, baby, no, no!”

Whoever gave Bee access to Marvin Gaye needed to be whacked upside the helm.

Knowing Mirage’s luck, it was probably you.

He stayed out for the rest of the night in his alt-mode, wandering the streets and staying away from your apartment, no matter how bad he wanted to go. The pool of people with any useful advice to offer for his predicament was steadily shrinking; after the disaster with Bee, Mirage just needed to stay away from that warehouse and let his processors cool.

Sometime in the morning he returned, though not to the warehouse. He almost immediately crashed into stasis as soon as he rolled into Noah’s garage, his simultaneously pent-up and exhausted processors eager for a chance to refresh themselves and defrag.

Ha, he thought blearily as he sank into stasis. Defrag.

You were waking as he was crashing, though you weren’t happy about it. The eight hour shift that loomed ahead of you on top of the bullshit from last night was a pretty potent combination for a headache of a day, especially when you couldn’t have your morning jam sesh with Mirage on your way to work. Thankfully, though, your roommate was a kind soul, and there was an extra cup of coffee waiting for you on the counter when you stumbled out of your bedroom.

As you sipped it, you wondered just how long you could keep the front up. By some small grace of God, your roommate’s schedule didn’t align very well with yours; you barely saw them in your daily life even before you met Mirage. It wasn’t on purpose, of course. It just happened that way. But on a few occasions, they’d been home when Mirage had dropped you off, and you’d been just calling him a ‘friend with places to be’ to excuse the fact that he never walked you to your door. Being somewhat prescient, they’d nudged you a couple times about this ‘friend’ turning into a boyfriend, but had never pushed it.

You just hoped it stayed that way.

Breakfast was a quick and quiet affair, though you traded a few jokes back and forth that had the both of you giggling into your food. The ride to your job was similar, and your roommate wished you a good shift before driving off leisurely — such a stark difference compared to Mirage’s affinity for peeling off into the street at Mach-fucking-10. Thinking of him made your face burn and your mind race. You tried not to.

Time was an especially cruel mistress today, though. You swore that people were actively winding the clocks back every time you looked up at them, and your shift felt like a thick slog, knee-deep, that you had no choice but to wade through. The worst part about slow shifts was that your mind wandered with nothing else to do, and like a moth to a flame— or rather, like metal to a magnet, your brain circled around to Mirage again and again and again.

Damn that bot. Damn it all. Every time you thought of him, it was some stupid joke he’d cracked or silly offhand comment he’d made or ridiculous flirt he’d lobbed your way — always accompanied by memories of his body, surprisingly lithe considering what he was made of, all legs and a dramatic waist topped with wide shoulders that made your own engine purr.

“Mirage, did you go upstate or something? You’re disgusting,” you’d laughed as you raked your gaze over his pecs, pretending to eye the dirt smeared there and not something else.

“Disgusting?! You gotta be kidding me, I’m not half as bad as the rest of ‘em. You should see Bee, dude!” He’d gestured out the door of the warehouse, where you assumed the other bot was lurking in dirt-covered shame.

“What the hell were you two even doing?”

“Pfft. Practicin’.”

“Practicing body-slamming each other?”

“Yeah, want me to show you?”

“Mirage,” you’d groaned, laughing despite yourself.

“C’mon, I know a few good ways to pin a bot down,” he grinned, winking at you. You fixed him with the most dead stare you could muster before breaking into a half-smile of your own.

“I’ll pass on the whole getting crushed thing, but I could be persuaded to spray you down by hand,” you flirted back, just for fun. 

No, not for fun. Real flirt. It was real, all of it was, and you couldn’t shake the memory of his optics widening, brightening, with eagerness and the way he’d pleaded. Playfully. Playfully?

“Please,” he begged dramatically, clasping his servos together, optics enormous. “I’ll be good! Maybe even stay still!”

You pinched your nose bridge between your fingers and tried to think about something else, because you were starting to press your thighs together a little and you were still at work, damn it. Professionalism was something you were aiming to maintain.

Hot. It was hot. That’s what you were thinking about. You’d glanced at the weather report earlier in the morning, and seeing a row of little sun icons clued you in on an insufferable heatwave that didn’t have any intention of breaking any time soon. Even now you felt sweat collect under your shirt and dot your hairline; all you could do was wipe your face with the back of your hand and keep working.

And working.

And working.

And. Working.

And then, eventually, you watched the clock tick over the last minute of your shift, and you heard angels sing a holy choir as you all but slammed your things down and sprinted to clock out. Well. You didn’t sprint, but you did speed walk, which counted for something.

Such was your haste to leave your workplace and talk to Mirage that you speed-walked headfirst into the lashing rain outside without a second thought. Genuinely caught by surprise, you stumbled back into the safety of the entryway, eyes wide as you watched the storm front swallow the last dregs of the golden evening sky and pour rain on the streets outside. Ink blots bleeding across paper. Rorschach tests. Some other poetic fluff came to mind over the supremely annoying realization that you were going to have to walk to the garage in wet clothes.

At least it was a quick walk.

Patience waning, you nearly considered calling Mirage — or even Noah — to come get you, but at the last second your roommate swooped in, pulling up outside and honking the horn a few times to let you know your knight in shining Prius was here to rescue you.

They cracked a few jokes at your expense when they saw your wet clothes, but it was nothing you couldn’t handle. Not after the trials and tribulations of Mirage. With a few clicks, the rest of your ride home was filled with Boyz II Men and intermittent conversation as you watched raindrops race each other down the window and considered what the hell you were going to say to Mirage tonight. 

Mostly, you were dying of curiosity to know what Prime had meant to get him so flustered. Thinking about that, though, just made you go down a spiral of what-ifs… especially considering that one of them was ‘What if he feels the same way?’

You could handle rejection. You were an adult who paid taxes. But just this one time, you weren’t sure if you could handle reciprocation. Especially full reciprocation.

Mirage’s friendship was something you felt privileged to have. You were just quite scared to fuck it all up and lose out on all the things that made being his friend worth it — including him. Jaw tightening, you blinked and looked away from the window. No use stewing in it.

At home, your dinner was quick and light — something in a Tupperware that you didn’t look at too hard after microwaving. When your roommate asked about your rush, you came up with some lame excuse about hanging out with Noah, waving your hand dismissively.

Don’t worry about me. I’m going to go break Hynek’s scale of close encounters. Don’t worry about it though.

“In this weather? You’ll be soaked thirty seconds out the door. You were soaked thirty seconds out the door.”

“I’ll bring an umbrella,” you said, barely listening to them over the cacophony of your own thoughts. Mirage. Mirage. Mirage. I’m seeing him tonight. I’m talking to him tonight. I’m not going to pussy out of anything tonight. Now or never. “The place is like two blocks up the street, I’ll live.”

“If you’re so inclined to catch a cold, I’m not gonna stop you. Not making you chicken soup, though.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” you snarked affectionately, and the last thing you heard before exiting your apartment was their familiar laughter. That bolstered you somewhat.

Even if the rain whipping at your face made you reconsider your stupid horny stubbornness.

Only two blocks felt more like two dozen as you tucked your chin to your chest and gripped your hood to keep the wind from snatching it off your head; in your other hand you white-knuckled your umbrella to keep it from tilting the wrong angle and washing water down your back. Thunder rattled your bones more than once and made you think offhandedly of Kris, the poor kid. He hated storms but refused to admit it out of pride; he was probably curled up in a ball under his covers right now trying to block out the worst of the noise. And you thought of Noah alongside him just out of pure association, and you weren’t sure what made your stomach turn, but it did.

God, you hoped Noah wasn’t with Mirage right now. You didn’t want to slam the door open to the garage soaking wet and wrestle Mirage’s true feelings out of him while Noah spectated. Wrestle. Soaking wet.

Fuck my life.

The side door to the garage was jammed like it always was, even after you unlocked it, and you huddled against it to stay under the mediocre cover of the awning as you shoved your shoulder into it to force it open. Old metal hinges wailed as you ground them open, and the blessed dry warmth of the garage — the temperature always heightened with Mirage’s presence — sighed against your freezing skin as you wormed your way inside. 

“Mirage?” you called tentatively as you leaned back against the door to get it to shut and latch. A beat passed before your senses came to you and your hand fumbled behind you to lock it. Not for sordid reasons, honestly. You just didn’t want anyone to even have the chance of walking in on Mirage when he wasn’t folded into a Porsche.

Speaking of, you saw him then, pacing around the garage and seemingly very involved in a conversation with himself. Although the rain outside provided a dull roar of background noise, the whirs and clicks of his actuators and soft whooms of his pedes against the concrete filled your ears with their familiarity. It was Mirage, and you knew Mirage, and it helped dull the edge of abject nervousness in your gut.

He cut a sharp figure under the hanging ceiling lights, making sure to duck and avoid smacking his helm on them. When those bright blue optics registered your existence, you swore they flared with delight; he said your name with such enthusiasm it almost made you excited. For what, exactly, you didn’t know. “Hey, sugar, what’s k— Primus, you, uh, swim on your way here? Or do I just make you that wet? Cuz I appreciate the compliment.” He grinned wolfishly at you. Sparks flew off your rubbed-raw nerves.

The unimpressed stare you gave him was lethal. “That is not how that works,” you said, shaking your umbrella off on the floor and setting it against the wall to drip dry. “All the wetness is— would be in one place, dumbass.”

“Sorry. Wasn’t paying attention during my anatomy lessons. Wanna reteach ‘em to me? I’ll behave, swear on my spark.”

A scoff. “When have you ever behaved in your life?”

“When it counts! C’mon, you know you like it,” he said, gesturing down the length of his body with a flourish of his servo. “I mean, what isn’t there to like?”

“If I answer that question, I’ll hurt your feelings.” Excess rainwater dripped off your jacket as you peeled it off. Mirage’s optics followed the motion intently.

Amber lighting nearly glowed against the sleek metal of his torso. So what if your own eyes had wandered down it at his emphasis? He’d invited it. Expressly. He loved your attention, loved flaunting everything about himself just for a glance his way from you, for anything you’d give him.

It took him a second to register your words. He gasped and clasped a servo over his chassis— his spark, you remembered that from your own anatomy lesson a few weeks ago. “Gonna break my spark talkin’ like that. I hurt your feelings or something, sugar? What’s got you so bent?” With his question, he sank into a deep squat, draping his forearm over his thigh and leaning close to you.

A deep exhale left you. Your shoulders deflated. “It’s not you. Just the weather.” A short huff of a laugh, barely humorous, left you. “I mean, look at me.” You held your arms out and spun in a slow circle, errant droplets flying in every direction. “I look like a drowned rat.”

The lightbulb over his head was nearly visible. “You, uh, want a hand drying off?”

You stopped dead in your tracks. Your hands fell to your sides. Something akin to lightning danced up your spine.

“What?”

“Hold on, hold on, I got an idea,” he said,  holding his hand out at you to tell you to wait, excitement ramping up in his voice. What the hell was he planning? Nothing good, you figured. Or hoped.

Otherwise harsh sounds of metal against metal were softened by the alien chirrs and trills of the mechanical viscera working in his chassis as he settled on the ground in a sitting position. His back was leaned against the wall, carefully adjusted so his darling paint job was away from the rough concrete. To keep his balance, he rested against his tires and scooched his hips away from the wall, kicking his long legs out with a flourish and gesturing at his lap.

Although he was shorter this way, it was still a climb you didn't want to make while you were damp and the general slip hazard was high. “Can you give me a lift so I can see whatever shit you’re planning?”

“I got you, sugar, don’t even worry about it. Just hang on,” came the reply, and your brain blanked just a little at the feeling of his servos on you again, picking you up just like they had done on that night two weeks ago. With zero effort — seriously, you didn’t even hear any mechanical creaking — you were scooped upwards.

Your damp clothes clung to your body, a fact both you and Mirage were painfully aware of; the chill of the soaked fabric contrasted against that fascinating living heat of your skin nearly made the sensors in his servos short-circuit. He’d thought about this, exactly this, so much that it had probably worn a path into his neural processors. So soft. You were so soft.

A shudder ran up his spinal strut and he prayed you didn’t notice.

You were set down with your feet firmly on the flat tops of his thighs, ignoring the slight wobble in your knees. Arms raised a bit for balance, you looked down at the living machinery beneath you. The flight paths of the butterflies in your stomach grew more frantic. Broad servos released you from their hold, but they didn’t leave; no, they skated down, down, down until they settled on the flare of your hips and stayed. They were so heavy.

A breath caught in your throat like a wild animal in a trap. “If I fall, I’m gonna be so pissed off. You know that, right?” Anything to make this more normal. You had no idea how you kept the shake out of your voice.

“Relaaax, hot stuff, I’m on it. I got it, I got it,” he replied, his voice a full octave lower than what you were used to. “‘sides, I’m Mirage, remember? Protecting humans is kinda my thing.”

You scoffed. “Not with the way you drive.”

“Hey, I drive perfectly fine! You’re the one who’s scared of fun.” His servos left your hips to brace themselves on the floor. “Mirage, don’t drive so fast! Mirage, that’s a red light! Mirage, there are cops behind us!” His voice pitched up into something high and nasally to poorly, poorly mimic yours.

It was your turn to be affronted, though your mouth was open in a disbelieving sort of smile. “I don’t even sound like that, you fucker! And sorry for trying to keep us from getting arrested!”

“I dunno, you all sorta sound the same to our audio processors.” He was lying, and blatantly so. He had the distinct tone and pitch of your voice memorized down to the wavelength. “And besides, we wouldn’t get arrested.” His own voice took on a smug, self-satisfied edge, accompanied by the raise of his brow ridges.

“Oh, really? Why’s that? Please, enlighten me,” you snarked, crossing your arms over your chest and staring him down. In response, he leaned his head in, closer to you, closer than you expected, and an insufferable smirk crawled across his faceplates.

“Cuz cop cars can’t drive that fast,” he whispered conspiratorially, like it was a clever response.

What should have been a minute movement — just a shift of the head — actually became very noticeable on a twelve-foot-frame; his hips repositioned of their own accord to account for the redistribution of weight, and the change was enough to trip you up. Especially when you had been leaning in already to match his movement.

The world tilted as you started to fall forward; fearing injury or worse by tumbling off your semi-precarious perch, you jammed your hands out in front of you—

And slammed your palms directly on his chassis. It was all very fast after that. Mortified, you stared down at the planes of metal beneath you, feeling heat creep up, up, up your neck and seep into your face. Mirage had cursed above you out of surprise, and you felt the displacement of air as his servo shot up behind your back and hovered. Right there. He was right there, and he always would be.

You raised your head and made eye contact, and you knew it was over. His optics were wide with surprise, and they searched your face for any expression of pain or discontent. They cycled once, seeing none, and then flickered down to your lips.

He was so done for. Something in his expression sagged at your proximity; in his field of view, he saw an alert stating that his internal temperature was rising beyond ideal levels, and he would have laughed if not for you. Finally. Finally. Finally. He was half-expecting this to be a dream, something cooked up by his fried processors that he would wake up from any minute now. 

His servo was still hovering over your back.

“Can I—“

“Yes,” you said immediately in a sharp exhale — before he could even get the question out — and there it all went.

He surged forward like a flood from a dam, closing the distance between the both of you with a hungry rev of his engine. Explaining the logistics of it would sound silly; all you could do was go with the flow, just like every other time you’d ever kissed someone. All you knew was that it was satisfying, supremely so, and completely encompassing. Every sense was filled by him, and you realized with a kick of your heart that you never wanted it any other way.

Though your hand shook, you shoved past the fear and indulged in everything you had wanted for weeks, let yourself sink deep into that pit of want and refused to come up for air. Your fingers skated his curves and edges; you brought your palm up to the sharp angles of his jaw and smoothed it upward until it ran over the curve of his cheek.

He reacted to your touch like it was a live wire. Minute jerks of excitement ran through his frame, and when your hand rested on the side of his face, he tilted his helm into the kiss with barely restrained excitement. He was so careful, it made something inside you purr. That kind of caution was only reserved for something precious. You were precious. He couldn’t ever risk hurting you. Especially not by his own hand.

First impression was that his lips were far softer than you’d ever assumed. Pliable, hot metal pressed greedily against your mouth — more, more, more was a mantra echoed wordlessly between the both of you. The hovering servo came to rest on your back, pushing your front against his chassis as you shifted up on your toes to keep the angle of the kiss correct. Digits splayed against the planes of skin they found there, pressing down to feel your warmth — your heart slammed against your ribs so hard that Mirage could probably feel it against his palm.

With a hot flash, you wondered if the metal of his lips would bear the dent of your teeth from a bite. So you bit. It was more of a playful nip than anything, but the reaction you got was so instantaneous it was like Mirage had been waiting for it. Again, his engine throttled, the powerful rumble surging through you as his servo pinned you to his chassis. Against your mouth, his lips ticked up into a smile.

Air. You needed air. He let you pull away with no resistance, though his head did trail after your mouth for a moment.

You let your forehead sink down and rest against the top of his chassis for a moment; the condensation from your breath fogged the metal. Out of nowhere, manic giggles erupted from you. They shook your body incessantly as you rose and fell in time with Mirage’s heavy vents, your knees feeling weak and mind frazzled. From one kiss. One.

Laughter rocked his frame too, short chuckles of disbelief as his thumb rubbed circles into your back.

“Oh my god,” you murmured into the warm metal beneath you through shocks of giggles.

“Not exactly, but, eh, I’ll take it,” Mirage replied above you, and while he laughed at his own joke, you groaned and whacked him lightly with a palm. It wasn’t like he was unaffected though — far from it, in fact, judging from the steadily heating chassis beneath you and the tinge of static fringing his words.

“Bring me up,” you said hoarsely, twisting an arm behind you to paw at the servo on your back.

Without question, his other servo came up and curled under your thighs, hoisting you up so that his face was easier to reach. With most of your body now resting on his chassis and very much secured in his grip, you grasped his face in both your palms; he leaned so far into your touch with a shaky ex-vent that your noses almost brushed.

“Again?”

“Yeah, again,” he agreed, and this time you pulled him in, fingers hooking in some unseen seam behind his jaw as you crushed your mouth against his. Hunger, latent and now finally triggered, drove you closer, as close as you physically could, until your skin was starting to hurt from the random edges being pressed into it.

Curious above all else, you licked your tongue into the front of his mouth. The searing heat inside surprised you; it teetered on the edge of uncomfortable and reminded you very much of your computer at home when it ran for too long, with that special kind of mechanical stress and burning warmth that only came with overworked processors.

“‘S like that, is it?” he murmured into your mouth with a grin, his engine kicking up a notch and the vibration of his chassis hitting you very nicely right where you needed it most. You made some soft noise, half-gasp, half-groan, and hiked one of your legs up so it was bent at the knee, flattening your hips against his chest and fuck, there it was. The consistent rumble of his motor pressed a steady vibration right into your cunt over the seam of your jeans; a particular grind made you gasp and falter as you rolled your clit against the line of denim and held it there.

“Whoa-ho-ho! Heyyy, hot stuff, something feel good down there?” His voice was bursting at the seams with some rich kind of excitement; you breathed into his neck cabling as your hips jerked a little against his chassis. One servo pawed at your ass, clumsy with its eagerness, gripping and massaging the soft flesh it found there with intent.

Experimentally, his servo pressed down, pushing your pelvis down with it, and the pressure on your clit pulled a groan of satisfaction out of you that had his cooling fans sputter.

“Fuck,” you hissed through gritted teeth, and before he could say something stupid, you leaned your head down and pressed kisses to the delicate cabling of his neck.

A delighted noise rattled out of him, and his helm rolled back against the wall to allow you more access. Impatient, your kisses soon turned to bites, playful nips that tugged at the sensitive wiring and made his body jolt beneath yours like he’d been shocked. To your utter delight, you found that Mirage’s proclivity for talking extended to situations like these, too — noises streamed from his mouth as your curious teeth and hands worked over such a fragile part of his anatomy in ways that only a human could.

“Oh, Primus, babe, babe—“ he stammered out, and you lifted your head for just long enough of a window to allow him to swoop down and kiss you again, feverishly now.

Something thick and wet prodded past your teeth experimentally. For just a second you balked— and then remembered it was his glossa. His tongue. Yeah, you remembered that from your anatomy lesson; he’d stuck it out and pointed at it in a dumb way then, but fuck if it didn’t have your thighs tightening now. The hot biomesh probed your mouth, and it was so big you inadvertently drooled around it — but Mirage didn’t seem to mind at all. In fact, you were pretty sure the spit dripping from your mouth around him was getting him even more worked up, judged by the way his digits tightened their grip on your ass.

You had been cold when you’d walked in that garage. Keyword there was had. Now your skin seared with a deep flush and steadily increasing heat; mindlessly, your hips started a slow, staccato rhythm that kept your breathing heavy. The servo on your back slid upwards to the point where it encompassed the back of both your neck and head. He could not get enough of your taste. He wanted it burned into the sensors on his glossa, for all he cared. Spit and lubricant swapped between the both of your mouths — you found that the metallic taste that seeped into your tongue did nothing but turn you on further.

Pulling away again for a deep inhale of air, you propped yourself semi-awkwardly on an elbow to look at him. Open adoration was written across his faceplates, along with blatant want that made his optics cycle frantically.

“I thought you were— fuck, I thought you were supposed to be drying me off,” you said, breaking in the middle of your sentence as his servo carefully started to move you. Just barely — just enough pressure to keep your hips working against him and chasing your pleasure.

“You really wanna?” He grinned at you, spit shiny on his chin. “I dunno about you, but I think I’m likin’ you being wet more.”

“You’re awful. That was terrible,” you laughed, brain foggy with arousal and general swelling affection for the bot underneath you.

“How many more of those you got left in you before you start admitting the truth that I’m the funniest bot you’ll ever meet?”

“I mean, you don’t exactly have stiff competition.”

“Aaand the best-looking.”

“I dunno… Optimus is kind of—“

“Hey!” he interrupted, bringing you up for another kiss to silence your thought before you could finish it. You happily complied, laughing into the heat of his mouth and then moaning in the same breath as his servo ground you down against his rumbling chassis again.

Hot. You were getting really hot. The damp clothes sticking to your skin were not helping; in fact, they felt as though they were going to start steaming being pressed against your skin like this. Against your wishes, you pulled backwards again, bracing yourself against the warm vents that substituted for his collarbones. They cycled hot, dry air against your fingertips, though it didn’t burn. Not yet, at least.

“Mirage,” you breathed, and that got his attention immediately. “…Are we fucking?”

“Please,” he instantly replied, so eager that it made your cunt throb. His enormous blue optics watched you with such intent that it almost made you want to shrink away from the scrutiny — but you steeled your resolve. You had him, and you had him right where you wanted. Opportunity of a fucking lifetime. You were not about to waste it.

You glanced down for a reprieve from the eye contact. “Fuck,” you swore softly, staring at the metalwork beneath you for a few heartbeats before shaking your head and glancing back upwards at him. “Okay, well— I— Okay. Let me just— do this—“

Hands shaking slightly, you balled your fists in the hem of your work shirt and wrestled it up and off you; the damp fabric lingered and peeled off of you, which made Mirage’s motor throttle powerfully underneath you. Other than that, though, you got no reaction, which made all that heat in your abdomen cool rapidly into a dense ball of abject horror.

Oh, you made a mistake. This was too much, you were too alien, too different—

The servo not supporting you against his chassis slid around from the planes of your back to your front, and you gasped sharply as he did the same fucking thing that drove you insane the first time, however many days ago. His thumb, warm on the palm-side, gently passed over the peak of your chest. His optics narrowed in on the indent in your soft flesh his digit created. Nerve endings in the trail it left behind sparked.

“Oh, you don’t know how long I’ve been waiting to do that,” he said reverently, voice steeped in a combination of awe and victory.

Oh-kay! You sucked a deep breath in, a litany of responses running through your head. The boost to your ego was very much appreciated, and it helped lighten the sinking mass of worry that had formed in the pit of your stomach.

Mirage nearly groaned when you placed your soft palm atop the junction of his digit and the heel of his servo. “Do it again,” you decided on, and that worked damn well.

As his servo groped at your chest, he leaned in, tucking his face under your jaw. To accommodate, you tilted your head up and away—

Only to swear into negative space as he very much returned the favor from earlier and began carefully sucking the world’s biggest hickeys into the skin of your neck. Breaths came harsh and choppy as the expanse of his glossa, hot and spit-slick, laved over the gentle bites he worried into your skin with his denta. 

“Ah, Mirage, Mirage,” you breathed; every mention of his name spilling from your bruised lips made his circuitry heat just a little more. It was so much all at once — his servos were so broad that their expanse covered huge swaths of skin at once, and his mouth on such a sensitive part of your anatomy wasn’t helping either. Your hands clawed for purchase against his helm and the back of his neck. One palm flattened as much as it could on the back of his head, trying with all of your laughable human strength to bring him as close as possible. The other ended up cradling the side of his head, your thumb brushing over the audial disk there. With no small amount of wonder, you watched the plates of his back ruffle at your touch.

Mirage wasn’t trying to be weird, but he could die happy so long as he had the taste of your skin still registering on his glossa. It was more addictive than any high-grade he’d had back home by leagues. That human flavor of salt and skin and some kind of sweetness had his processors thrumming at maximum capacity; you made his mouth flood with lubricant, a fact you could corroborate by the amount that spilled over your bare sternum. The feeling of his own spit sliding down your front between your bruised breasts made the muscles of your abdomen twitch. Fingers shaped like claws now, you pressed weak kisses against the smooth curves of his helm wherever you could reach.

Your jeans were just getting in the way at this point. The minute shocks of pleasure you derived from grinding your clit against the inseam were just that — minute. You needed something more now or you were going to get frustrated, and you’d dealt with enough sexual frustration over the past weeks to be very sick of that feeling.

“Oh, fuck, okay— Mirage,” you said breathlessly, giving him a light tap on the side of his helm to get his attention. Reluctantly, he pulled away from your chest, optics dimmed with pleasure. They cycled once and returned to their full brightness as he cleared the fog of arousal — barely — away from his processors.

“All systems go, sugar?” Static hissed underneath his words.

You tried and failed to stifle a snort of a laugh. “Corny ass,” you mumbled, although you were absolutely close enough for his audial sensors to pick up on it. He made a sound of indignation, but you pushed forward regardless. “I, um, I need to get these off.” Hooking your thumbs in the waistband of your jeans to emphasize your point, you glanced up at his optics again.

Blankness for a second. Then it registered. “Oh, right, right, of course, haha! You, uh, want help? Or you got it?”

“I think I can manage taking my pants off,” you laughed. “Just— let me sit on like— the top of your chest, there we go,” you instructed, and the hand under your ass pushed you up until you were turned around and seated on the lip of the top of his chassis. For a second, you wrestled with the denim — still not fully dried — but you managed to kick both your jeans and your shoes off. They were thrown somewhere in the direction of the door. God, you were so glad you locked it.

Underwear went next. There was a beat of hesitation — for what, you weren’t sure — but like you’d done so often as of late, you just ignored your trepidation and worked the elastic down your legs. A laugh barked out of you when you lifted the fabric up and saw the downright ridiculous wet spot that stained the gusset.

“Jesus Christ, look what you did to me,” you said with a faux accusatory tone, holding your panties out for Mirage to inspect. Two digits delicately took them from you; he held them up to his face, so close that it made you blush from sheer embarrassment.

“Wow. You weren’t kiddin’ ‘bout all the wet being in one spot, huh?” He examined them with no small amount of fascination, much to your mortification.

“Mirage! Put those down, oh my god,” you said, covering your mouth with a choked noise.

“What, I can’t admire my work?”

“No you can not.”

Mirage pouted at your denial, and mumbled something about you being no fun, but he still lifted you off his chassis regardless. Like he was helpless to your draw, he pulled you in for another kiss, though he couldn’t stop his mouth from wandering. Down, down, down, until his nose was nestled in your chest and he spoke into the soft flesh of your stomach. Shaky ex-vents tickled the damp skin there.

“Shit, baby, tastes so good,” he mumbled, and you were impressed by his ability to sound completely sex-drunk without even having done anything yet.

Your hips rolled against nothing; they bumped into his neck cabling and the top of his chassis fruitlessly, and a noise of frustration eked out of you. Mirage seemed to get the memo and pulled you away. Your body was brought down until your ass was sat firmly on his hips — his interface panel nestled right in front of your dripping cunt — and your back was leaned up against the flat support of his thighs; his knees were tucked up and his pedes placed firm and flat on the floor to give you the most stability. Fumbling for a second before you found somewhere to place your own feet, the enormity and absurdity of the situation brought more of those breathless giggles to your mouth that seized your chest and shook your shoulders.

Toootally breaking Hynek’s scale here. So beyond abduction. Way beyond abduction.

A few careful digits slipped around your knee, wormed their way between your legs. “Can I—“ 

Your thighs fell open without a word.

What had made you fall for Mirage the hardest was his motormouth. He never stopped talking; he always had something stupid to add, something to pitch in with, some silly joke to crack. There was a lightness he teased out of you that even you didn’t expect. But now? Now, for once, he was speechless. It made uncharacteristic shyness flare in your gut and heat your face as he studied your very bare, very human form with slightly parted lips and enormous optics.

His body caught up before his mouth did. The servo on your knee slid over it until it gripped your bare thigh; he watched the flesh shift back and forth under his touch with no small amount of fascination.

“Is it— it’s okay?” Your voice sounded very small. It was a special kind of insecurity to be faced with.

“Oh, yeah, it’s okay. It’s cool, you’re just— just different. A lot different.” He jiggled your thigh again playfully.

“Good kind of different though, right?”

“Very good.” To punctuate it, his engine snarled again, seemingly in response to the drool of your cunt on the hot metal of his interface panel. “Primus, you look good, babe. Shit.”

Ego boost! You smiled. Any other partner — any person — and this would be too much, this position too unflattering, your everything too open… With Mirage, though, it just felt like it always did. Easy.

One of your hands rested atop the servo still holding onto the meat of your thigh. The other slid down over your shining chest, passed over your stomach and pubic mound, and brushed past wiry hair, shiny with slick, in order to slide a finger up your folds. A whine ripped its way out of you at direct contact with your clit after mere heavy petting, and you couldn’t stop yourself from drawing tight circles with your fingers and twitching your hips forward to eke out more of that delicious pressure.

The servo on your thigh dug into your skin. Mirage’s vents became far heavier at the open display of your arousal; it has always been him vying for your attention. Now that it was the other way around, he wasn’t sure if he could handle it. Transfluid was seeping between the seams of his interface panel, joining your own fluids in a shiny pool that sent sparks up his struts. He made you like this, made you so wet you dripped, made your clit swollen enough to be visible, made your cunt tight with heat and Primus, he needed you on his spike so bad, he thought he might die without it.

He verbalized these thoughts with an unintelligible noise of adoration.

It was enough encouragement for you to slide down from your clit and venture two fingers into yourself. Zero friction. They glided. Christ, when was the last time you were this wet? You’d slept with a handful of people, especially in your first couple years of college, but you’d never been soaked like this. Mirage’s cooling fans choked at the sight of your fingers vanishing into you. His thumb dug into the crease of your thigh and hip as he leaned just a little closer to watch.

Very little time passed before it devolved into your fingers working inside your walls, crooking against that one spot that made your breath hitch and hips jump. Mindlessly, you ground against your palm, catching your clit on the heel of your hand with a sweet moan that nearly shorted out his processors. He had to hear that again. Without thinking, he moved his servo over, resting the digits on your lower stomach and gently, gently nudging the heel of your hand out of the way to replace it with his thumb.

“Ah!” spilled from your lips at the insistent, broad pressure of his thumb, and your hips jerked against it, working your fingers that much deeper. Tears pricked at your eyes from pure sensation. “Mirage, mmm, just— just rub, up and down— or circles, just move, I don’t ca—are,” you floundered, the last word breaking as he did as he was told, carefully sliding his thumb up and down on the bead of your clit and sending twinges of searing pleasure up your spine.

You found quickly that just your fingers weren’t enough. Not when the reminder of his servo lay heavily on your lower stomach, tips of his digits digging into the soft fat there insistently. Although you were loath to part with your hand, you pulled your fingers out with a sigh. Mirage froze, optics flicking to your shiny hand as you spread your fingers, examining the strings of fluid that connected them with a far-off feeling of pride.

“Sugar, you’re killin’ me here,” he groaned, and you saw, for one endearing second, a puff of actual steam rise from the vents near his shoulders as he ex-vented harshly.

“Okay, well, here,” you said, unable to come up with anything clever with the purr of arousal in your cunt fanned by the heat of his interface plate and consistent, maddening rumble of his engine. Your hand, still shiny and wet with your fluids, grasped the top of his servo and gently pushed it downwards, until the tips of his digits rested against your drooling entrance. To fight the whimper that threatened to claw its way out of your throat, you nearly chewed a gash into the inside of your cheek. A gasp of an in-vent jolted his frame in awe.

“You sure? I mean— it’s cool?” His flustered stammering was so damn endearing; supreme affection for him swelled in your chest. 

“I’m sure. Just— just go slow.” His adoration was fueling your bravery. You knew he wouldn’t hurt you; if he did, it would never be intentional, and it would never be something he couldn’t fix.

He paused for a second before remembering the position of your own hand and flipping his servo so it was palm side up; you dragged a large enough breath in to balloon your lungs fully at the sight. Anticipation danced in the burn of your spread thighs. For a few seconds, it was just exploration; his digits slid over your silky folds, collecting the gathered slick with minute trembles. One delicious slide all the way up from entrance to clit had you gasping. Mirage silently thanked Primus above that your whole set-up was similar enough to his valve to know at least some of his way around it. It was just hotter. Wetter. Softer. So much softer.

“‘Raj, just— fuuuck,” you groaned out, your head rolling back as the tip of one digit sank into you, soon followed by the rest as it slid all the way to the base. Stars flickered behind your eyelids. The width matched the two fingers put together you’d just pulled out of yourself, though the texture was so wildly different to anything you’d ever put up there that it made your brain stutter for several moments as your nerve endings processed the feeling. The individual ridges and articulations of his knuckles dragged against the silk of your walls in a way that pulled the breath right out of you; your chest rose and fell rapidly with shallow breaths as your thighs twitched.

You were a mess. Mirage was in love. “Holy shit, baby, I get you this bad?” It was only partly teasing. “l— fuck, a second one good?”

“Good, yes, please.”

All thoughts were wiped clean from the forefront of your brain with the addition of a second digit. Slick noises and the sound of dripping fluids landing on metal and concrete filled your ears over the steadily climbing racket that Mirage’s entire body was making — his cooling fans competed with his engine to make the most noise, over top of the typical whirs and clicks that came with his motion. You couldn’t look, could only feel with your eyes squeezed shut as Mirage pumped both digits in and out, in and out, in and out. One arm was thrown up behind you, hooking loosely around his knee to ground you somewhere. The other was occupied: your hand clutched his wrist like a lifeline, white-knuckling it even as your sweaty palm slipped over the metal cuff. When his thumb returned to your clit, swirling clumsy but eager circles on top of it, that only contributed to the tight, hot coil building in your gut.

Mirage had half a mind to pop his interface panel right then and service himself, because the sight of you, shining with sweat and slick with his spit as you rode his digits, was almost too much to bear. The plush folds of your cunt, tight with arousal, were so soft against the hard planes of metal that comprised his servos; the contrast was short-circuiting him. Under his paneling, his spike was already pressurized. Had been for what felt like hours. Your ass was beginning to slide back and forth just a little due to the transfluid collecting underneath you; the rippling motion of your flesh was driving him insane. As were your walls, Primus, your walls that sucked greedily around his digits as they glided in and out of the tight ring of muscle that made up your entrance.

Your name left his lips in a groan that was an octave too high to be suave. The thought of your cunt clamping down on his spike — so soft, so hot, so wet — like it was doing on his digit had his hips rolling against nothing, working fruitlessly for friction they weren’t getting.

Sweat collected wherever skin touched skin. Condensation fogged wherever skin touched metal. The combination of his digits stretching you, curling in you when he realized what a dramatic reaction it incurred, and his thumb working your clit was getting to be too much. Heartbeat roaring in your ears like the rain outside, you clawed a grip into a seam in his leg and jerked your hips against his servo with breathy noises and gasps that you certainly wouldn’t be proud of later. For now, though, all it did was fuel Mirage’s ego and go straight to his spike.

Almost there. You were almost there, grinding your way towards it, sweat beading on your hot skin—

He pulled out. He pulled his digits out. A keen tore out of you at the loss of feeling, tears springing to your eyes as the hot edge you were so fucking close to fell away, your hips working unconsciously against a servo no longer there. With a gasp of a breath, you wrenched your eyes open, blinking away the collected tears and nearly baring your teeth at the bot beneath you — until you saw what he was doing.

In utter astonishment, you watched as the digits that were just inside you slid into his mouth, peeks of his glossa flashing as it worked them clean.

“Oh fuck,” you said before you could stop yourself. One of your hands slapped over your mouth; you tasted sweat and metal. His optics slid to you, lidded and cycling frantically as he processed your taste. A harsh ex-vent slumped his shoulders — the servo not preoccupied with his mouth clutched your hip like you were something precious.

“Sugar,” he breathed, static grating on the word. “Fuck, c’mere.”

Servos hefted you up, and you clutched onto them out of instinct as he helped you up to his face. Without thinking, you lunged forward to kiss, your tongue seeking out his glossa and tasting yourself with a resurging thrum of arousal. He cut it short, though, ignoring your protests as he cupped your ass in one servo and held you aloft. 

For a second, you stared at him in confusion. “What are you—“ Then it hit you. “Oh.” Your heart rate skyrocketed.

The grin stretching his faceplates was downright devious. “Hang onto something, wouldja? Not that you’re gonna fall. Just want you to enjoy the ride.” A short, heady chuckle rounded out his words.

“You’re insane— oh!” Your lighthearted scold was immediately interrupted by the press of your hips against his face and the slide of his slick glossa over the entirety of your sex. “Oh my fuck!” sobbed out of you as your upper body jackknifed over his helm. One arm curled around it with clawing fingers; the other slammed, palm flat, against the concrete wall.

A groan of satisfaction rumbled into your cunt as the taste of salt and sweat and girl bloomed on his glossa — just like earlier but so much stronger now. The proud line of his nose bumped your clit for a second before his glossa followed, narrowing so he could flick at it experimentally. Lubricant spilling from his mouth mixed with your own slick and ran down his chin; his cooling fans sputtered and spun weakly for a second as he pushed up further against your hips, malleable mesh drawing shapes between your clit and your hole.

Your fingernails scraped against the wall as your hips jerked of their own accord; the edge stolen from you earlier had very much returned, and the feeling of his faceplates sliding over the plush, soft skin of your inner thighs was doing something terrible to you.

“Mirage, ah, ah— I’m— fuck, fuck!” Broken syllables and curses streamed from your lips as a substitute for real words. When he closed his lips around your clit and sucked, it was over. It was so quick, embarrassingly quick. The orgasm that had been building suddenly snapped free and tore through you like a fucking hurricane, leaving spasming muscles and a wonderful endorphin afterglow in its wake. As you sobbed out his name, he slid two digits of his free servo back into you just to give you something to clamp down on, and it made tears spill down your burning cheeks from pure stimulus. Mirage drank you; he wanted nothing more than this, to swallow you down and leave your taste buzzing on his glossa like high-grade. Several thundering heartbeats later found you hunched over his helm as his glossa continued to work lazily against you, forcing twitches out of your thighs from pure overstimulation.

“Okay, okay,” you managed to croak, voice hoarse from weeping moans and boneless from what was probably one of the most insane finishes of your life. You tapped out weakly on the side of his helmet. Reluctantly, he pulled your pussy away from his face and cradled you in both servos, one noticeably damper than the other, in front of him.

His chin was shiny with you, his grin wide and completely self satisfied, and his optics dimmed with pleasure. If you were being honest, he’d never looked better, but in your frazzled state you weren’t sure if you had the capacity to string together enough words to form a compliment.

“I gotta say, compliments to the chef,” he hummed, and you stared at him, words not processing.

“Did you seriously— you just gave me head and that’s what you’re gonna say?”

“Uhh, yeah, babe. And I meant it.”

A genuine laugh shook you. “Oh my god. Ohhh my god. Okay. Well, put me back down there, you corny fuck,” you said with a gesture back at his hips.

“Oooh, keep sayin’ that. I’ll start thinkin’ you mean it.” Your body, errant trembles still running through it, was set carefully down back near its original position. This time, you sat in something closer to a straddle, back straight instead of leaning.

The garage air had gone from temperate and warm to fucking scorching. Outside, the rain droned on, occasional rumbles of thunder sounding so far away that they may as well have not been real. Your entire world had been compressed down to one point — a gravitational singularity in this garage, crushing space and time down until only bricks and concrete stood between you and the oblivion outside. All you knew was living metal and Mirage’s voice, trembling with excitement and fuzzy with static, and that was all you wanted to know. His chassis was making so much noise that you probably, under any other circumstance, would have been concerned; if he blew a gasket fucking you, though, you would wear that with pride.

Pure adoration reflected right back at you from his optics as his servos settled on your hips, his thumbs stroking your slick skin. Any concerns he had about Prime’s reaction to you, or to this — well, maybe not to this specifically, but to the both of you being together — were completely null and void in your presence; the reality of your soft weight in his lap was enough to short out his circuits.

Your hands slid down from the cooling fan in his abdomen spinning at maximum speed towards his soaked interface panel; glancing up at him demurely through your lashes, you spoke.

“You gonna let me return the favor?”

“Huh?” He broke out of his reverie. “Oh, right, um— yeah. Yeah, please.”

A smile crawled over your face at the reminder that despite all the poetic words you could come up with in your head, Mirage was still, and always would be, Mirage. Dazed already, he ran the subroutines to open his interface panel. Machinery shifted with a few clicks, and there was a hiss and an outpour of steam as his spike swung up before you, clearly aching for some kind of touch.

You heard more plates shifting lower, too, and out of curiosity peeked downward; something slick glowed lower down, but the nervous shifting of Mirage’s hips and his closed thighs obscured it from view.

Probably better to just focus on what’s in front of you. Your eyes roamed the length of his array first, your mouth going dry just at the size of it. It was bigger than any toy you owned, anyone you’d slept with, and bigger than his digits, too. Still, though… what were humans if not persevering?

And flexible?

You wrapped a hand around it right below the tip, and a full shudder lanced up Mirage’s frame; it was so thick that there was still space between your fingers and thumb left over. Transfluid, milky in consistency but pearlescent pink in color, spilled from the flared head. Curiosity overtook you, and you swiped a thumb up to catch an errant bead of it as it trailed down the side. The fluid was semi-oily, and smelled… fairly innocuous. Metallic, sure, but that came with the territory.

The array itself was as impressive as it was pretty. Like everything else about Mirage, it was fancy, mostly chrome with blue striping up the sides that led to a fully blue head. The biomesh it was made of — similar to his glossa — gently throbbed with alien pulses as you stared at it. Oh, that was hot. Why was that so hot?

Exploration in full was rewarded with soft noises spilling unbidden from Mirage’s lips, his hips twitching uncontrollably as you carefully slid your hand down from the tip to the base in one fluid motion, feeling the transfluid slick under your fingers. “Mmph, I— ah,” he choked out through gritted denta as you observed him.

Oh. Oh. The realization of the power you held over the big mech made a special kind of arousal thrum through you. Another slow pump had his hips jerk up once and a servo clamp over his mouth.

“This was not included in your anatomy lesson,” you said pointedly, a cheshire grin on your face as you hovered dangerously close to his spike. It throbbed in your grip, working another bead of transfluid out of the tip.

“Oh shit, babe,” he groaned, rolling his helm back against the wall. “Uh— hands— hands-on learning?” he offered weakly, unable to focus on anything other than the soft, damp skin of your palm around his spike.

He made the mistake of looking down as you let spit drool out of your bruised lips and spill over his spike for additional lube, and he snapped his optics shut to avoid from a spontaneous overload right there. The noises he made as you slid your tongue over the head were pitiful.

“Fuck, baby, fuck, fuck, fuck,” he hissed, spinal struts clicking as they arched. Primus, was he seriously about to overload in your mouth? Your lips closed around the head and sucked lightly, and he yelped. A servo shot out and carefully grabbed your shoulder, though the tremors running through his digits told you of the restraint he was barely employing. A string of spit and transfluid connected your mouth to his spike as you lifted your head, and he had to force himself to look away for a second with that same servo clutched over his mouth to keep steady. “‘m not gonna last like that, you— can we just—“

“Fuck?”

“Primus, yes.”

“Yeah, we can. I guess.” Despite the leap of excitement in your stomach, you rolled your eyes.

“Don’t even start with that, c’mon,” he said fondly, one servo supporting you as you lifted yourself above his spike and stared down at it with no small amount of trepidation.

It looked a little more manageable from above, but working with something the size of your forearm would cool anyone’s heels, even if there was slick drooling down your inner thighs. Mirage’s servos settled heavy on your hips and you braced yourself on first his knees behind you, then his wrists as you tilted your pelvis to align your entrance as best you could. You sank. The head pressed insistently against your hole. Relax. Relax. Relax.

A deep breath filled your lungs, then whooshed out, deflating your shoulders. Unable to help himself, Mirage inched one of his servos over and ran his thumb through your folds, rolling over your clit and jolting your hips enough to slip the head inside. A long sigh of  “Fuuuuck.” was all that managed to come out of your mouth, your toes curling at the stretch and then the pop of the flared head sliding past your entrance.

Mirage’s entire frame trembled. His vents became shallow and sharp, and the tips of his digits clamped onto the soft meat of your hips desperately as the sensors on his spike reckoned with the realization of just how wet and warm humans really were. “Babe, babe, babe, shit,” he stammered out. “That’s— um, fuck, that’s good!” A weak laugh escaped him as his chin sank down to his chassis, cooling fans hiccuping from stress.

“Hold on, just hold on, I can… shit.” Sweat-dampened palms slid off his wrists for a second before you resituated yourself and leaned back a little, letting your upper back rest against his tucked up thighs. Whatever you were doing worked, because you sank further, and you thanked whatever god was listening that you’d already finished once, making your body quite boneless and that much easier to maneuver.

Mirage, on the other hand, was as taut as a fucking bowstring, made helpless to his own pleasure and completely powerless to you. His optics first scrunched shut, unable to look at you for fear of overloading at the sight of you finally on his spike; then they flew open at the realization that he wanted this burned into his visual processors forever.

Your skin shone with sweat and lubricant; rivulets trailed down your body like a visual pointer to your slick sex, nestled within wiry hair and stretching so beautifully around his spike that it tore an honest-to-Primus whimper out of his vocal synthesizer.

“Mirage, I need you to— mmnh, fuck, I need you to just touch— please,” you gasped, his spike punching the air right out of your lungs. Although your words were broken, he seemed to get the memo, and despite his minute tremors, brought his thumb back to your clit and pressed down. Just the surface area alone made you sigh and roll your head back in pleasure, and it loosened you enough to take him right up until the head nestled against your cervix and your ass brushed his hip plating. There was maybe an inch or two left, but you felt immense pride at managing to work most of his spike in — and immense pleasure, too. If he moved his thumb at all, you were done; you were so fucking full you could barely breathe, and you felt the slow, rhythmic pulses of his biomesh throb through you.

Mirage had never been one for restraint. He did things all-in, one-hundred-and-ten percent, all with a flourish to top it off; the feeling of the hot silk of your walls flexing around his spike just sitting there was enough to quite literally kill his cooling fans via a micro-short in an attempt to divert more power towards keeping his hips still. Senseless praises streamed from his lips, voice whining and roughened by static fuzz. “Yes, yes, yes, sugar, Primus, that’s good— feels so good, please, can I move, please,” he fumbled, jaw slack and optics flickering with the power surges cascading throughout his frame.

“Just— let me start,” was your response, tears pricking at your eyes, and although Mirage groaned pitifully underneath you, he listened.

You had a fair amount of experience with riding toys, and you knew what felt good; the lightbulb above your head became apparent. A shift in your position pushed further weight to the back so that the ridges and nodes of his spike pressed insistently toward the front — though, to be fair, it pressed everywhere — and oh, fuck, right there. Now shoved against that sweet spot inside you, the pleasure teetered on the edge of pain, and you dragged yourself up with a vicious grip on the seams of his thighs behind you. Mirage whined and shifted his hips just slightly; it was enough to pull a moan from your lips as you slid upward. Thick, sluggish droplets of slick swirled with transfluid oozed down his spike. He watched — it was all he could do — with an open mouth and rapidly cycling optics.

The flared head caught against your entrance; a spike (ha!) of pleasure lanced through you. “Okay, now, you can— help me, please,” you stammered out, dizzy with pleasure already and feeling a loopy kind of open-mouthed grin situate itself on your face. 

Your words were all he needed. Although he desperately, desperately wanted to snap his hips up and chase the vice-grip of your slick walls, he’d rather take on Megatron alone with his servos tied behind his back than risk hurting you. Especially while interfacing. He did not want to have to explain that to anyone.

Thumb slowly working your clit, his servos gripped your hips just a little too tight and assisted; you could feel the tremors lancing up and down his arms as he helped you establish a rhythm. At a word, the dam would break, but for now, you maintained tenuous control over the mech and over yourself as you rode him with his help.

Well. Rode was a strong word for it; he all but dragged you up and down the length of his spike, earning each of you luxurious groans from the other, but your quivering thigh muscles assisted as best they could. Heat surged through your body at the drag of his nodes against your walls, and you realized with a hot flash that Mirage was going to fucking ruin you for anybody else, and you liked that. Which was good, because he could have stayed buried in your cunt for the rest of his life and offlined happily just like that.

It was good. It was really good. But even the overwhelming stretch wasn’t enough. Just like earlier — it seemed like light years away now — when you’d still had pants on and hadn’t been completely lost to metal-on-skin debauchery, the grind of your clit on the seam of your jeans had been good, but not enough. Your fingers clawed at his wrists. The burn of your thighs from exertion seared through you, mixing with the jolts of pleasure from your clit to create some new, terrible monster that had you twitching with shameless ecstasy.

“Mirage, Mirage,” you croaked, as he slid you down his spike again and pushed it into your lungs, “I’m— fuck, please, faster, please, please.” In any other scenario, your begging would have immensely embarrassed you; now, though, it seemed like the only viable option to get him to fuck you like you needed him to.

“Shit, baby,” he hissed, and you gasped as he kept moving you, legs jerking uselessly. “You— fuck, you sure?”

“Yes, please, just— oh, fuck!” The cry — and the air in your lungs — was knocked right out of you by a single desperate snap of his hips upward, his spike driven straight home. Your entire upper body crumpled forward, kept upright only by a tenuous grip on his wrists, and then he really started fucking you, and you were gone.

His cooling fans surged back to life as he slammed into you, power no longer diverted towards holding the actuators of his hips back. No, now he was fucking jackhammering into you, and you were barely moving as his spike pistoned in and out of you, slick drooling from your cunt. Like he remembered himself, his thumb began to work furiously against your clit, and you rewarded him with a gasp and more than a few uncontrollable moans of his name, which only served to fuel him more.

Not like he was being quiet, either. You were glad that the building was solid brick and the rain continued to pour outside, because the amount of noise coming from his chassis and spilling from his lips was worrying. Praises and broken mentions of your name streamed from him; he tossed his helm back against the wall with his optics squeezed shut to keep from overloading prematurely. It was too much— it was way too fucking much. Your poor overworked cunt was nearly bruised with sensitivity, barely able to keep up with the stretch of his spike as the nodes pulsing along it raked that sweet spot inside of you mercilessly. Neither of you were going to last long; not your fragile human body nor his torqued-up frame could handle much more of this.

Every sharp thrust paired with the frantic, messy circles he pressed into your clit brought you viciously closer and spilled tears from your eyes. All you could really do was hold on as Mirage wrung pleasure from both your body and his. Impossibly, his thumb worked faster, his pace got even more brutal, and you were almost seizing from pleasure as your nerve endings were frayed raw. That peak was building in your gut, that familiar tight coil of heat, for the second time that night, and you knew it was going to completely destroy you, and you wanted it to.

Without warning, Mirage spread his knees apart, slammed his pedes flat on the floor, and thrusted up. His spinal struts arched again to get his spike that much further inside of your yielding body, his overload imminent and warning signs flashing in his optics’ periphery. “Fuck, yes— yes, baby, yes, yes, ah, shit!” His frenzied whine rang in your ears as steam from his vents heated the air around you; the only thing that rang in your ears besides your thunderous heartbeat was the heady slap of skin against metal, everything slick with your combined fluids.

You responded in kind at the new angle with a cry of his name and some noises that resembled words, but the way he sheathed his spike inside you — fuck, was it all the way in? — and ground his thumb against your clit was too much— too much— you couldn’t—

You shattered. Doubling over from pleasure, you sobbed incoherently as your climax slammed into you. Pleasure crackled through your veins like lightning; a fog of pleasure dulled your senses until the only thing you could focus on was his spike pulsing in your cunt and his thumb still grinding against your clit. Tears pricked at your eyes, joining the ones already wetting your cheeks, as jolts of pleasure lanced up your spine. Maybe you moaned his name, maybe you didn’t. You couldn’t tell.

Mirage went soon after you, because the feeling of your walls clamping around his spike as if trying to suck him in impossibly further did him in instantly. His optics snapped open wide before slamming shut and he cried your name as the best overload of his life wracked his frame; the actuators of his hips trembled violently, along with his servos, as transfluid gushed into you and was immediately forced out by the pure lack of room inside your cunt. Engine snarling, cooling fans nearly spinning off their axles, he held your hips as flush to his as possible while the both of you rode out your respective climaxes, twitching around each other violently. Minute jerks of his hips attempted to work more transfluid inside of you. Brain still wiped blank with pleasure, all you could do was make soft noises and let the aftershocks spasm through you.

Consciousness eventually came back to you in gritty waves. Mirage had set your body down, leaned back against his thighs, his spike still seated within you but depressurizing slowly. Transfluid seeped out of your puffy folds, and you lifted a shaking hand to collect some of it and taste it. Metallic. Like you’d expected.

Enormous vents whooshed through his frame as he attempted to cool his chassis; coolant dripped from him, some of it turned to steam by the pure heat of his internal mechanisms. Body shaking and feeling very small and human, you stroked a thumb over his wrist where you held it, feeling both its ambient warmth and a surge of affection. And satisfaction.

You were absolutely going to feel this in the morning, holy shit. Thank God you didn’t have work tomorrow.

Mirage eventually came back down to earth, his optics cracking open and cycling a few times before they flared to their usual brightness. Lids heavy and a dopey grin on his face, he carefully lifted you off his spike — it slid out of you with a slick noise that made you flush — and brought you up to face-level. With one servo, he held you tight against his torso; he planted the other flat on the floor and resituated his hips so he could slump down further against the wall, his entire frame lax.

Self-satisfaction beamed at you from his faceplates. “Oh, that was good, huh?”

You scoffed, too tired to get riled up at his teasing; you knew he was feeling the same as you. “Yeah, pretty good. I don’t know if I’ll be able to walk tomorrow, to be totally honest.” An exhausted laugh left you.

“Gonna count that as a win.”

“You… do whatever you want.” You waved a limp hand at him dismissively, letting the rise and fall of his chassis with his vents rock you.

“Well, then, I wanna do this,” he purred, and brought you in for a kiss that communicated all his smug affection without any of his stupid jokes. You returned it gratefully, a smile on each of your mouths as you basked in that pleasant post-sex glow.

The rain still droned outside. A boom of thunder rolled through the building; the lights flickered. Both you and Mirage glanced upward. His optics slid back down to you first.

“You thinkin’ about going anywhere in this weather?” he asked, raising a brow ridge.

“I dunno, do I have a ride?”

“Nah,” he replied playfully, kissing you again, and you found that it could storm for the rest of your life, and you wouldn’t really care. So long as you had your favorite — yes, your favorite, not that you could ever admit around him — to keep you company.

[jjkarmy091]

Second Best- Jungkook (part 8 )

Summary: Being friends with someone who has your heart it’s already hard, let alone when that special someone ends up falling in love with your best friend, the one you think would never make anything to hurt you . Will you be able to ignore it and move on? what will happen when everything gets too much for you to handle?

Genre: Friends to lovers; angst; body insecurities; bullying; friend betrayel;

Pairing: Jungkook x female!reader

Wordcount: 5.781

Author's note: It took me a lot but here it is. Got so many blocks writting this and I'm not satified with it. It doesn't matter how many time I write and rewrite it, it feels like it's never good enough but I tried my best so please go easy on me. Hope you like it and let me know if you want a next chapter or not. Also: I'm sorry for any mistakes

Love you loads <3

When Y/n woke up the next morning she could swear her head was gonna fall off. It was one of those headaches it makes you wanna clung onto the bedsheets and never leave ‘till the next day. Flashbacks of the night before went through her brain but she brushed them off. She wanted to enjoy the few days she had taken, yet she’s still thinking about the same. She thought she was doing a good job but Taehyung’s words didn’t really help too, she definitely was going to face Sewoon with all these facts. Y/n always chose kindness over anything else but would all of that have gotten her anywhere? Looking back, she had serious doubts about that. 

Getting up from the bed and heading to the bathroom she notices everything is still very quiet which means Lisa is still asleep. Y/n wants to do something nice for her so she decides to make a huge breakfast once she knows that food is Lisa's undoing and starts preparing things without making too much noise (or at least trying to). Everything’s almost ready when Y/n listens to steps aproaching the kitchen/living room area as she pours some orange juice in Lisa’s cup saying good morning. Lisa looks at her and smiles, answering her back and sitting down.  

“what’s all this?”  

“It’s just a way to thank you for being such a great person to me. I know I've been hard to handle these last days but I want you to know that I truly feel grateful for everything you’ve done for me so far. If it wasn’t for you I don’t know how things would’ve ended up for me, I’d probably be crying in my room, thinking how much I suck because the guy I’m in love with doesn’t love me back” 

“I told you Y/n, it’s completely fine. I always liked you. You bring such a positive vibe and you’re so kind and fun to be around. It’s good to be around you and if I can help you somehow I will.” A few minutes of silence passed until Lisa asked what she was dying to know. “Did you talk to him?” Y/n stops suddenly, swallows hard and shakes her head.  

“No” 

“care to explain why?” 

“I’ve been thinking about your words and you’re right! I have to stop being a pussy and be real with myself and my feelings, not for others but for me. All this mess started because I'm always comparing myself to others all the time. I was so scared that Sewoon and Jungkook would meet and I was the bridge for them to start something. I allowed this. If only I wasn't so afraid and had more confidence in myself maybe it would be me in Sewoon's place and that kills me inside Lisa. For once in my life it would have been simple and sincere and I'm the only one to blame for this."

"What makes you think he was never interested in you Y/n? Because from what you told me it seemed to me that he was quite into you” 

"He definitely wasn't Lisa, you're confusing things. He found my attitude towards him funny when we first met, I don't know. But he never showed any signs, he never said anything and I was afraid of destroying the friendship we were building by saying something. He even used to go on dates. At the end he would go to the coffee shop and we would talk about it and stuff.” 

Lisa frowned “So he went on dates but never hooked up with them afterwards? a boy in his prime, with basic needs and would always come to you afterwards? You never found anything weird?” 

“For what he told me he had just gotten out of a complicated relationship. I think he was more interested in meeting new people, go out for a bit, clear his head.” 

“and come back to you in the end” Lisa mocks while Y/n throws a piece of bread at her, hitting her in the forehead. “Don’t be annoying” 

“Y/n you may not understand much about boys but I do and that's not normal for someone who don't have feelings for you. At best, he would go home.” Y/n drank some of her juice. "stop it! if that was true he wouldn't have gone straight to my supposed best friend. Why would he do that if he was interested in me?  The way he looked at her, how he said she was the best thing that ever happened to him and that he would never be able to love anyone the way he loves her. Not to mention what he did for Sewoon. She told me some things and all I could think about was how I wish it was me instead. I hoped it was me but I'm a coward, that's why I'm still here, 23 years old and a virgin. Even in that regard, Sewoon was lucky.” Y/n looks at her plate, trying to avoid eye contact with Lisa, knowing that would be enough to make her start crying but kept talking

“How she described the way he touched her, grabbed her, how he -- in short, everything. There was this one time she couldn't stop talking about how and where they did it so I invented that I was super busy and couldn't talk so she could leave and I could cry in peace. I swore never again.” 

“After everything Tae told you do you still think things are as Sewoon says?” Y/n didn’t answer, instead she got up and started taking the dishes onto the table, washing them. Lisa got up too, leaving her plate in the sink "always listen to things with a hint of doubt but specially with your heart." Y/n decided to change the subject. 

“What are we doing today?” Lisa laughed “let’s introduce you to this place the right way. See something else than snowboards” With this they got ready for the day. Lisa already knew the place with the palm of her hands so she knew what and where to go with Y/n.  

Even tho her mind was still in another place she actually found herself enjoying their time there. She enjoyed it so much that she didn't even notice the days passing by until the day for them to leave had arrived. Although the first days were complicated now she didn't mind staying another day or two but there were things to fix that she was eager to mend and she wouldn't find the so needed peace she wanted until everything was cleared up.

On their last day there Lisa suggested to go for a hot chocolate where they found Tae and his friend once again. They saw each other a lot during their staying and ended up clearing everything up and agreed that Sewoon was a NO topic. That night they went to a club all together and Y/n remembers having so much fun and getting so drunk that she ended up on top of Tae's friend. (Not the way you guys are thinking, pervs ;)

Y/n already had too much to drink and once they were stepping out of the club she tripped and Tae's friend was there and tried to hold her only for Y/n to bring him down with her. All of them laughed and they even took a picture of them both on the floor in a suspicious position. She just hoped any of it would end up on social media, at least for now because she knew either Sewoon or Jungkook would see it, but of course things never go the way she wanted them too. On their way home Y/n got a notification on instagram saying Taehyung tagged her in a photo so she opened it and saw a set of pictures, the first being Y/n, Lisa, Tae and his friend with drinks on their hands and Tae's arm around Y/n's waist and the second just a photo of Y/n and Tae making a funny face among with other random pics with the caption “Glad to see an old flame again. Loved these days with the best people. Let's repeat it next year” Fuck

She still had two days before going back to work and a few hours' journey ahead of her and the last thing she wanted was to end these wonderful days in an anxiety attack at an airport far from home because of a set of pictures.

It was a peaceful trip, they both took the opportunity to sleep and rest during the flight since when they arrived they had a lot to do. Y/n agreed to move to Lisa's house just as she had proposed. One night before going to sleep she spoke with her landlord and canceled the lease so she had little time to organize her stuff and take them to Lisa's. As soon as the plane landed they looked at each other and smiled, grabbed their things and slowly walked out of the airport where Lisa's father was waiting for them. As soon as they got into the car, Lisa said 

“I'm sad it's over but I'm happy we're getting home. I honestly love traveling but the moment I get to my space and make myself comfortable at home is always the best of all. Speaking of it, we still have to get your things. How about we go to my house, unpack, have lunch and then pack the rest of your stuff? Unless you're tired”

“I agree with you Liz, nothing feels better than the comfort of home, and yes, I was thinking the same. I still have two days before going back to work so I have to make the most of it. Right now, i just really want to eat I’m starving and I can’t function without food” They both laugh. Lisa asked her father to turn on the radio and as soon as he did, Tate mcrae's new song started to play. Needless to say they started singing with all their power until they arrived at Lisa's house. Y/n didn't remember having that much fun, not even with Sewoon and she had known her for years.  

After arriving at the place, her father said goodbye to them and left their bags at the front door so they could unpack them. They decided to order Taco Bell and while they waited for food and for the washing machine to stop, they sat down on the sofa. Y/n was looking at her phone until she heard herself say 

“I don’t know what to do” Lisa gets confused and kept her silence in order for Y/n to say something else, getting comfy on the couch. It took her a while to speak again.

“I-  we got back to reality and I can't ignore the fact that I never spoke to Jungkook again ever since that day. It's making me nervous because my mind is racing 1000 percent, I mean, imagine he no longer wants to talk to me or listen to what I have to say.. In hindsight I should have said something to him but I was so hurt. Furthermore, I received a message from Sewoon asking what the hell I was doing with Tae without telling her. Let's just say it wasn’t a very nice message. What should I do Lisa?” 

“First of all breath Y/n. Being like this won't get you anywhere. Second: I honestly think you should send a text to Jungkook, tell him that you need to talk to him and that you know that ignoring him wasn't the right choice but that there are a lot of things he doesn't know and that it's difficult to explain. Ask him to meet, preferably in a place other than your work because it will draw a lot of attention on you. You still have time to get back to work, make the most of it before - " Before Lisa finished, the washing machine was heard making its characteristic sound and Lisa apologized and said she'd be right back while Y/n continued sitting on the sofa looking stupidly at her phone. Lisa was right, she couldn’t drag this anymore.

“Hi Jungkook, how are you? I hope you’re doing well. I’m doing good. I know i probably kept you up at night, or maybe you didn’t even think of me but still I’m writting this to give you some heads up on why I disappeared the way I did. Truth is, I had a lot going on these last few months and I know that’s not an excuse and I was on the wrong for not replying to your texts but honestly I didn’t know what else to do. I was in a real mess. I still am and the way I thought it was possible to get out of this chaos inside my mind was to escape my reality and move away. I'm sorry, I know I should have said something but I'm ready to explain everything to you now, if you still want to.  

I love you.” 

During the rest of the day Lisa helped Y/n move her things to her new place. The fact that she didn’t have a lot of things made it easier. After that, they went grocery shopping and ended up passing by Y/n’s work and decided to walk in being greeted for her co-worker Sana 

“Ohh well well well. Who do we have here? Good evening lady and welcome back! thought you’d never show your face around here again. I already miss you, how are you doing? And most importantly, when will you return? I'm so tired of putting up with the boss alone, everyday he gets more and more annoying” She says making Y/n and Lisa laugh. 

“It’s been wonderful having some days to actually rest, sad to see it end” Yn says with a smile. “How’s it going around here?” 

“Pretty much the same you know. Had your really hot friend coming over everyday at the same hour he used to come. I guess he didn’t believe me when I told him you took some days off. Weird you didn’t, you guys were so close and were together all the time I thought you’d end up together after he broke things off with Sewoon. The last time I saw him was two days ago with her actually. They came here together.” Y/n’s heart stopped for a second and she had a hard time breathing all of a sudden 

“Together how?”  

“Like I said they came in here together, sat at that table over there and chatted for a while. It was a very busy shift and I was alone here so I couldn’t see or hear a lot. When it calmed down I looked at them, Jungkook was holding her hand and saying something to her while she looked like she was crying or about to. Then I couldn't understand anything else because several customers came in at the same time. When I noticed, he was already coming to pay and Sewoon was at the entrance waiting for him. That day he didn't say anything, he looked somewhere behind me but didn't speak, he just smiled, paid and left but I couldn’t see if he went alone or with her. I’m sorry”  

Of course this was going to happen, all she had to do was disappear for a few days and they wouldn't waste time getting on top of each other. She was so stupid. Was she really worthless? Lisa looked at her worriedly but didn't say anything, simply ordered two drinks while Y/n thanked her and looked out the window. If she had known, she would have enjoyed the trip even more without thinking about those two. She felt bad about leaving Jungkook in a vacuum and he was very much entertained. She always had a tiny bit of hope but what for? Sana had left to prepare their order when Lisa spoke 

“Don't pay attention to it Y/n. It could be many things, you don't know. If he really was with her why was he always coming over and asking about you?” 

“Because that’s what friends are supposed to do Lisa! They worry about each other, which makes sense given how I left the club that night and the fact that I didn't say anything to him in the following days made him think that something bad had happened to me. Everything friendship based.. Maybe that's why he didn't answer me, because he's with her. Sewoon must have shown him the photos we took with Tae on vacation. He was sure I was okay so he moved on with her, again.  

Lisa didn't have the chance to say anything because their order was given to them and they said goodbye to Sana and made their way to the car. Lisa started driving and to get home they had to pass by Y/n's old house. As they approached the road Y/n saw someone she knew very well, Sewoon and next to her was Jungkook in front of her old appartment. As if they could see her, Y/n leaned as far back as she could against the seat.  

""Lisa, for all that is most sacred to you, please don't stop here, don't look, don't do anything other than move as quickly as possible. Don’t ask me anything just go!" 

Always the second, never the chosen, as always. 

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

As they get to their now shared apartment Y/n tells Lisa that she's not hungry and if she doesn't mind she's going to rest because it was a very long day and that tomorrow is the last day and she wants to take the opportunity to organize the rest of her things and relax. Lisa says she doesn't mind at all, that she also feels the same and is going to rest, specially because the next day she has a last minute meeting.

Y/n tried to make Lisa not notice it but she's not stupid. As she drove past Y/n's old building she saw the silhouettes that bothered her so much and all she had to do was put two and two together upon seeing her reaction. The only thing she wanted was to park and give Sewoon a good slap and tell her everything she had been holding back so far.  

After getting home both went to their rooms. Y/n couldn’t get any sleep. She tossed and turned but sleep was far away.  Y/n looked at her phone and still no text or call from Jungkook. Why was she stupid and sent him a text? Clearly he wasn't worried at all, not even an "ok" he had responded. Suddenly she felt her eyes blurry and that was when she realized the tears rolling down her cheeks. She thought she was worth more, even if it was just in terms of friendship. After some time lost in her own thoughts, she decided to put on her headphones and try to get some sleep and managed to do so after a few hours. 

The next day, when she woke up it felt like she had been hit by a bus. Lisa had also gone out to deal with some matters at work, at least she remembered mentioning something about it. Once alone, Y/n had decided to stay in bed. Honestly she wasn't in the mood to do anything else and wanted to take to relax since she was going back to work the next day. Willingness? none. It was going to be hard but the way things were going neither Jungkook nor Sewoon were going to show up there or so she thought.

The next day her alarm went off and Y/n got ready for the day. She was going to do a double shift today since Sana was off, so she was on her own. For some reason she was nervous, it seemed like it was her first day again so her anxiety was on the roof. 

As incredible as it may seem, as soon as she arrived she saw her regular customers greeting her and telling her how much they missed her (most of them elderly people who used to frequent the shop even before she worked there and who had loved her since her first day) relaxed her immediately. Everything went very well. During her break Lisa went to see her and they chatted and drank coffee before going back to do the other part of the shift. Until then, everything was going perfectly. No sign of people she didn't want to see, she hadn't had any rude customers and her boss was in a very good mood. It was all too good to be true since luck is not something that goes on her side. 

Y/n was getting ready to close the shop and at that point she was usually alone. She was putting the chairs on the table when she heard the entrance bell signal that someone else was there with her. When she turned to inform the customer that they were closed, she came across someone she didn't want or even expeected to see.

In front of her was Jungkook with wet hair and helmet in hand. He seemed agitated, confused and angry. Very angry. Y/n couldn't help but notice the dark circles under his eyes as if he hadn't slept in days. She stopped on the spot, what would she say or do? They hadn't seen or spoken to each other for almost a week and the atmosphere was tense and she just wanted to disappear. 

He looked at her with such an intense gaze that she had to turn away while saying "we are closed" and pretended to keep doing what she was doing. 

"Really? After days of complete silence while i was worried sick about you. After leaving without any kind of warning? After that stupid fight on the club and sudden departure with someone that neither Sewoon nor I knew, that's all you have to tell me? we are closed? Are you for real?” 

Y/n stopped doing what she was doing but kept her back to him. It’s a good thing he couldn't see her because her hands were like jelly, shaking so much that she thought she was going to faint right there, however continued to act tough and ignored him, took a deep breath and started walking to the counter until she felt a hand grab her arm.  

“Y/n please stop shitting me. I’ve been going crazy these last few days because of you and you act like you don't care. I don't know what's worse, your attitude or the fact that I don't recognize you at all" and with these words Y/n turned around and looked at him with tears threatening to fall. She released herself from Jungkook's hand and turned completely towards him. She was on the verge of bursting. 

“You. Out of all people YOU are the only one who can't say that. I did everything for you Jungkook. I was always there for you when you needed me, remember? I knew when you were good, when you were sad, when it wasn't the best time to talk and when you wanted to say something but didn't know how. You needed me and I was there but when it was the other way around, were you there for me? Did you care at all?” she sighed “All this because I didn't answer to some calls and texts from you? You were so worried about me that you were always tied to Sewoon, don't tell me you were also worried about me when you were inside her. Be honest Jungkook, you only remembered me when it suited you. Admit it, when it comes to me you don't think twice." 

Jungkook didn't say anything, he looked at her as if she had just stuck a knife into him. He expected everything but this version of Y/n. He had noticed for some time she was different but he never asked her because he didn't want to bring up the subject that was bothering her hoping she’d be the one to open up to him yet it seems like it was a bad decision to wait. Maybe he should have talked to her when he noticed it, he knows he was stupid but he wasn't going to give in now. He was about to speak again when Y/n continued her speech.

“Things weren't supposed to be like this but everything is already ruined so what I'm about to say won't make a difference and honestly I'm tired of staying silent so as not to hurt other people and try to please them. That's why I'm in this shit right now, so here it goes.” Y/n looks him straight in the eyes and more tears run down her face, it's now or never. 

“I’m in love with you Jungkook”

As soon as the words left her mouth, a sob came out as well. This is where it ends and she knows it. His expression changed from angry to pure shock. She knew him very well, but at this moment she couldn't read his thoughts, everything was so confusing, he seemed so confused and she didn't understand why. She was breaking and to avoid even more suffering said

“Please let's not talk about this anymore. Things are pretty obvious and we don't need to drag this out any further. I need to close this Jungkook, I'm tired and I need--" 

“How long Y/n? How long have you felt this way?” Jungkook's look was anything but disappointed. It was a look she couldn't decipher and she also didn't know if she wanted to. Y/n looked down and replied 

“ A few months after we met and started hanging out more” Jungkook turned around and placed his elbows on the counter and his hands resting on his head.  

“And you never thought to tell me? Don't you think that would be a good thing to do?” he sounded so mad. “All this time you had feelings for me and you never said anything, never showed any signs and now I'm the bad guy for moving on with my life? And why you’re talking about Sewoon? We broke things off a long time ago and you know it. You were there!” 

“Ohh please Jungkook, anything but that. I'm not blaming you for anything, in fact, I even supported you, remember ? it was ME who introduced you to Sewoon  because YOU wanted me to! Even if I told you earlier what would change? Every time you came to me it was either because you just had a dinner date or someone had asked for your number. You love to say I'm always on your mind, I guess that I wasn’t on it those nights. I'm just the girl you would share things with and ask for advice, you don't have to be very smart to see that.” 

“Is that why you left without saying anything?” Y/n looked at him and when he saw that he wasn't getting a response, he went to her and got so close that she could see all the moles on his face, some that she hadn't even realized he had.  

“Y/n answer me. It's the least I deserve.” Even though there was some distance between them, Y/n felt trapped so she decided to move away a little, hitting her back on the counter. 

“Yes. After our conversation at the club and the way I saw you look at Sewoon I realized that there was no chance for me, not that I didn't already know, but I got the confirmation that day and the way you were more interested in going to her than hearing me confirmed my guesses once again, yet it was when you went to her and you kissed in the middle of all those people that my heart was left in pieces. I looked at you and instead of being happy that my best friend was back with the girl he's in love with, I just wished it was me in her place. I had to get out of there before everyone saw me break." Y/n cleaned some tears that were running down

"In Sewoon's eyes I'm already pathetic, but in yours? I preferred to die than to know you had that image of me. I went to the bathroom and that's when I met a friend from school, we ended up talking and exchanging contacts. She asked me if I wanted a ride and I took the opportunity to leave, that's when you found me. That night I spent at her house and she made me an offer and invited me to go traveling with her. For my mental health I accepted and only God knows what it cost me not to have said anything to you and I'm really sorry for that, I know it wasn't the right thing to do, but Jungkook you didn't care either because when I texted you back you never answered me. You can't judge my actions after having done the same thing.”

“You could never be pathetic y/n. I've always said how much I admire the way you are and I keep praising that, I would never get that impression of you. I know you went on a trip with Lisa and two other boys, Sewoon had shown me pictures of you, that's why I don't understand Y/n, none of this adds up. And I never received any text from you because unlike you, every day I checked if you had come to work, if you sent anything or if Sewoon knew anything about you. That's the reason I was with Sewoon a lot more these last few days. It's sad that I only found out that you were back because I saw your friend here yesterday, I recognized her from those photos, so I went to her and asked her about you. She told me you were coming back to work today and to show up around this time because you'd be alone. I was crazy looking for you, wondering if you were in a dead end, that's when Sewoon called me saying you were okay, hanging with some guys you probably met there. She also sent me the pictures, that's when I calmed down.”

Y/n didn't know which part made her more shocked, if the fact that Lisa spoke to Jungkook or knowing Sewoon sent the photos to him and omitted the fact that they both know the boy in question.

"Oh my god. After all this time Sewoon is still keeping you in the dark. Well just so you know the guy who posted the pictures is Sewoons ex-boyfriend, the one she left you for. Remember when she broke up with you? Yeah it was because of him. There are definitely things you should clarify with her, as she changes everything that corresponds to reality. Things that don't concern me at all and to be honest I'm tired of this conversation, it doesn't matter anymore. Things happened and it's ove, so if you don't mind it was a complicated day --” She didn't expect Jungkook to get so close to her but the truth is that they were centimeters away from each other and that was making her even more nervous and uncomfortable. She tried to get around him but he put his arms on either side of Y/n's body, trapping her there.  

"Did it work? Did you forget about me there? Did any of those guys help you forget me?”  Y/n had no response, she was completely surrendered to looking between his eyes and lips. She wasn't brave enough to grab him and kiss him, specially since he was still fooling around with Sewoon or so she thought, even tho the denied it. Still she wouldn't feel good doing that even if Sewoon hadn't been the best friend, so she did what she does best, avoided the interaction.  

“"I had fun and regardless of things I don't owe you any kind of explanation. I finally learned my lesson and you're not the exception, Jungkook. You're the rule and I don't give second chances to get me hurt, not even to you. I don't want to continue in this agony every time I see you and ask myself why others and not me? It took me a long time to get there but I finally managed to understand that as long as I don't like and accept myself as I am, neither will others and for that reason I ask you not to come here again. This is a closed subject and one that I want to bury.”  

“We’re not done having this conversation Y/n, I have to tell you some-”  

“Yes we are Jungkook, don’t you get it? I just told you I’m in love with you. My best friend who’s in love with my other best friend, who's still into her ex boyfriend. Did you even hear what I said about Sewoon?"

" I don't care about Sewoon,Y/n. Don't you fucking get it? All this time the only person on my mind was you. I tried really hard not to call you because why would I need to know where you were or who you were with. In your eyes I dated your best friend but in my eyes the only thing that connected me to her was you."

"Lisa has been fixing something she didn’t break because of how weak I was to stand for myself. I’m tired of being this innocent and naive girl everyone can step on. I'm not blaming you Jungkook, you didn't know and things turned out this way and it's okay. It's over and I think it's the best for you and me. I’ll be here if you need something but right now I don’t want to be around you. I need to fix myself before being there for you or Sewoon again and if you really care about me you’ll respect that” 

“Y/n, you're not understanding I--"

“Please Jungkook, just go. Let me do this for me and maybe we can talk about this in the future and laugh about it.” He didn't say anything else, he swallowed hard, shook his head, picked up his helmet and left, slamming the door loudly and that's when y/n collapsed. 

"I love you Jungkook. I love you so much but I can't be your second option." Y/n said as she slid down the wall, succumbing to the pain of something she never had.

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

tags: @esposadomd @joonlover1207 @eegyo @furrywonderlandwolf @minghaosimp @differentrunawayperson @nikkinikj @jksusawife @jk97bam @cryingoverpixelsetc @bhonbhon @lostinneocity @almostpurplelady @meowforluv @imagine-this-motherfucker @jk-190811 @cryingoverpixelsetc @11thenightwemet11 @rinkud @ayatie97 @jk-190811 @shaku1995

Next

[mind-empty-just-fictional-people]

Lost Comfort

masterlist

summary: dean hurt you when he was a demon, now it’s hard to sleep next to him

paring: dean winchester x female reader

rating: R for language, violent themes

word count: 1.1k

warnings: please read! talk of serious sexual assault, demon!dean being worse than he was in the show, (he wasn’t even that bad in the show, but he’s bad in this), language

“Dean, stop, this isn’t you!” you shrieked, pushing the demon’s arm away. It was no use. Dean was stronger than you when he wasn’t a supernatural being, but now you didn’t even stand a chance.

“C’mon, sweetheart, I know you love me,” he laughed, black eyes staring at you.

“Of course I do Dean, but I know you love me too and this isn’t love! Please get off of me!” you sobbed.

Your eyes flung open, a thin layer of sweat coating your forehead. You blinked away the dream and took in your surroundings, before realizing Dean’s arms were wrapped tightly around you.

“Dean, let me go,” you said. It came out as barely a whisper. Even if he was awake he wouldn’t have heard you. “Dean, please- fuck, let me go!” you repeated, but you were still barely speaking. “Dean let go!” you screamed, which woke him up.

“Y/n?” He furrowed his brows. “Hey, you okay?”

“Dean let me go! Now!” you cried. He flung his arms open and you hurried out of the bed. “God fucking damn it! I told you to let me go and you didn’t!”

“I- I’m sorry, hun I was asleep I swear I didn’t hear you,” he said quietly as he sat up.

“This was a mistake, I can’t sleep next to you! What was I thinking?” you scoffed. “I’m sleeping in the Dean Cave, I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Wait, no don’t go! I’ll go sleep on the couch, you stay here!” He got out of bed but didn’t miss the flinch you threw when he walked towards you. “I’m so sorry.”

Sam suddenly burst through the door; gun in one hand and holy water in the other.

“What happened? He a demon again?” Sam asked you, his eyes wide.

“Just a bad dream.” You shook your head. You brushed past Sam and walked towards the Dean Cave before stopping in your tracks. You hurried back to yours and Dean’s room.

“I still love you, Dean, I just need a bit of time, okay?” You smiled sadly, noticing the tears now on his face as he nodded.

“I love you, take all the time you need,” he replied.

With that you left.

“Dude, what the fuck happened?” Sam asked, putting his gun and the holy water down. “She’s never left you after a dream before, has she?”

“I- I think the dream was about me,” Dean whispered. “Fuck, I really hurt her this time Sam. I- I don’t think she’s gonna be able to forgive me.”

“This is Y/n, Dean,” Sam started, “she’d do anything for you. I think she just needs time.”

“But you don’t know what I did.” Dean let silent tears fall as he thought about what his demon self had done to you.

“I mean, it couldn’t have been that bad?” Sam scoffed a little then Dean looked at him. “Right?”

Dean bit the inside of his cheek and shook his head, looking down. “I r-ruh—god, I can’t even say it out loud.”

“Oh god,” Sam muttered, internally jumping to (correct) conclusions. “It’s been like two weeks, Dean. Of course she can’t stand to sleep next to you.”

“But it wasn’t me!” Dean cried. “I hate myself so fucking much for taking this stupid fucking mark and letting it consume me.”

“Dean-”

“Don’t get me wrong, I do not blame her if she doesn’t wanna ever see me again, but fuck! I’d do anything to fix this.”

“Just give her space.” Sam shrugged. “I think that’s all you can do right now. Whatever future your relationship with her has, is completely up to her.” As he turned to leave, he added; “But also be prepared for her not to forgive you for this. I don’t think she’ll be able to.” With that Sam left.

**

“Dean please!?” you screamed. “Dean, I love you! I know you’re in there somewhere, please stop!”

You woke up alone in the Dean Cave, beads of sweat rolling down your temples.

“Shit!” you mumbled, letting tears fall.

You sat up on the couch and tucked your knees into your chest. You checked the clock and realized you’d only gotten about forty-five minutes of sleep since your last dream.

You tried to go back to sleep but every time you closed your eyes you were met with the horrid memories; Dean hovering over you with his demon eyes.

You tossed and turned for a while before you realized there was only one person in the world who could make you feel better and he was the one person you couldn’t stand to touch right now. You huffed to yourself as you got up and left the Dean Cave.

When you opened the bedroom door you were met with Dean crying softly into your pillow, facing away from the door.

“Hey,” you said quietly, your voice laced with trace amounts of fear. His eyes flung open and he slowly sat up.

“Hey, uh- what’re you- what’re you doing here, uh, Y/n?” He stumbled over his words and wiped his tears away with his hands. He put his feet to the hardwood to stand up but you backed away and shook your head. You didn’t want to be that close to him.

“I- I’m still scared of you, I’m sorry,” you whispered. “But I love you,” you added quickly. “I love you so fucking much and I know I can’t sleep next to you, but I can’t sleep properly without you. So, I uh, I’m just gonna sleep in here… on the floor.”

“What? Honey you can’t sleep on the floor,” Dean said. “I’ll sleep on the floor, you can have the bed.”

“No, cause then I’ll feel bad about kicking you out of bed,” you mumbled, causing Dean to smile a little.

“How about this; we both sleep on the floor by our sides of the bed. That way neither of us feel bad about the other, we’re far enough apart, and we can see each other from under the bed.”

“I’d like that.” You smiled softly. “Can I maybe use your pillow though, looks like you soaked mine,” you laughed a little, causing him to do the same.

“I’d actually prefer to use yours,” he replied and tossed you his pillow. “Smells like you.”

You took a whiff of the pillow now in your hands. “Is that the aftershave I bought you?” He nodded with a smile. “Perfect!”

You waited until Dean was on the floor of his side of the bed before you went to your side and laid down. When you put your head to the pillow, you were met with Dean’s soft smile a few feet away.

“Is this okay?” he asked, you nodded.

“I love you, Dean,” you whispered. You reached an arm out under the bed so Dean did the same, your fingers touching in the middle.

“I love you so much, Y/n.”

[eternalxvenus]

⇢ ˗ˏˋ broken promises pt. 2 ࿐ྂ

summary: Rafe promised to take you out and spend your birthday with you, but you don’t hear from him all day and then suddenly he shows up at your door trying to explain. (this is part 2 to the birthday girl angst blurb! i changed the title for the series so it was more appealing)

cw: mentions of drug use, angst, nothing crazy (yet lmao)

wc: 1.2k

notes: i'm excited to write this since its my first series! lmk if there's anything you guys would wanna see in future chapters :)

previous chapters: part 1

You wake up to your alarm droning on annoyingly and feel around aimlessly with your eyes closed to turn it off. Once you had finally woken up on your own accord, you realized you should talk to Rafe. You hadn't spoken to him or left your house the last few days. Obviously, you missed him, but you just felt so hurt and angry with him.

After getting ready and using makeup to look a little more alive and less blotchy from crying so much, you decided you'd go up to Tannyhill to try and talk to Rafe. You left your house, hopped on your bike, and started towards the estate. The whole ride there, you just kept going over what you wanted to say but nothing seemed right. Before you knew it, you were at the front entrance.

You walked inside and heard voices in the distance coming from upstairs. Once you made your way upstairs, you heard the voices more clearly coming from Rafe's room. It was Rafe and another person whose voice you couldn't pinpoint.

"Come on, man you gotta understand where I'm comin' from. I've just been stressed out. Nothing a good time won't fix."

You looked into the room and saw Rafe sitting with some guy you've never seen. There was a table in between them that had some rolled-up bills and coke sitting on it.

You walked inside the room, still unnoticed until you spoke. "Hey, Rafe."

Both of their heads snapped in your direction, and Rafe immediately shot up, walking towards you.

"Shit... I uh- I didn't know you were coming over." He looked back at the man who just sat there unbothered. "Barry, can you uh give us a minute..."

"So let me get this straight, you went to a party and got high, missed my entire birthday, and after I tell you I'm pissed off your next line of action is to get high again with your drug dealer, right?"

Before Rafe could speak, Barry grabbed his stuff and started walking out. "A'ight man hit me up when y'all are done dealing with this shit."

Rafe waited until he thought Barry was far enough before closing the door and speaking, "Can you blame me? I don't hear from you for days so I assumed you didn't wanna be with me anymore! I tried to talk to you and you straight up ignored me."

"I was angry Rafe! I just needed some time to myself. That doesn't mean I'm breaking up with you and it doesn't mean you should start doing drugs again when that is quite literally what we fought about." 

This definitely wasn't how you imagined this conversation going. You didn't want to argue with him but your pride wasn't going to let you just back down.

"If you wanted space you could've told me," he sighed. "And I am sorry that I got high at that party and I'm sorry I missed your birthday okay? I want to make it up to you."

You walked over to the bed and sat down for a moment with your head in your hands. You loved Rafe, you really did. But you didn't want him falling into his old habits and lying to you about it.

You both sat there in silence as you thought about what you should do and what you should say.

"Rafe I... I think we should just take some time apart. Get our heads straight and figure out what we want-"

He walked over and sat next to you his eyes wide. "Baby I want you, I want to be with you."

"I wanna be with you too, Rafe, but I have conditions. I don't want you doing coke anymore. I don't like the person you are when you get like that. I know you get stressed and feel like it's your only option but you have me. Or maybe try weed and see how that works for you. I also don't want you hanging with Barry anymore. Non-negotiables."

He nods "I swear I'll work on it and I'll talk to Barry. I swear."

You stand up from the bed getting ready to go out the door. "Rafe... I'm gonna go stay with my parents on the mainland for a few days. I'll be in contact but please try your best to just leave me be. Get clean, for good, and I'll let you know when I'm back and we can figure everything out. Okay?"

He shakes his head. You can see that he's angry and confused, your heart just aches. "The mainland? What- why? Just stay here, I don't understand-"

"Please, Rafe. This is what we have to do okay?"

He took a few deep breaths and ran his hands through his hair. "Okay... okay. When you get back, I'll have made it up to you. Just promise me we aren't over." 

You could see the tears that formed in his eyes and had to fight back your own. "We aren't over just yet." You gave him a kiss on the cheek before leaving his room and heading home.

⭑*•̩̩͙⊱✩•̩̩͙⊰•*⭑

You were finally off the ferry and on the mainland to stay with your parents. You really wanted to talk to your best friend to get advice so you asked her to pick you up. By the time you reached your house, she was all caught up. Your parents weren't home so you both went straight up to your childhood bedroom.

"Damn... I didn't think he got down like that." Niki looked at you slightly surprised. "Honestly though, it sounds like does care about you, even if he did fuck up."

"Yeah, I know he cares I just... I don't wanna have to worry about shit like this. Whenever he's all coked up he makes irrational and bad decisions. I'm just worried he'll do something and end up in jail or worse."

"You just have to let him know that. Make sure he knows your anger comes from a place of care. If he feels like you're just judging him, it'll probably piss him off."

You sigh and groan into your pillow. "You're right, thanks Niki."

"Don't mention it. Now, let me catch you up on the mainland gossip!" she squealed.

⭑*•̩̩͙⊱✩•̩̩͙⊰•*⭑

Niki had gone home and you were getting into bed, ready to sleep after what felt like an exceptionally long day, when your phone chimed. You looked and saw you had a text from Rafe.

Rafe: hey I just wanted to make sure you made it to the mainland safely.

You: yes I did, i'm at my parent's house, thanks for asking.

Rafe: of course, goodnight

You: goodnight

Placing your phone on the dresser, you're thankful he doesn't push the conversation further. You decide you'll only stay here for three days before going back to the island to figure things out with Rafe. You just hope he can work on staying clean and that you can go back to being together like normal. 

As you closed your eyes, ready for sleep, you heard another chime from your phone. You groaned before picking it up to check.

Topper: hey we need to talk, it's about Rafe.

part 3

likes, comments, and blogs are greatly appreciated!

taglist: @readingsmuts @1aarii1 @bingbongbum @stargirlsturniololover @babygirl229 @poisonedsultana @rafescamshoe

[recklesssturniolo]

Can’t Help It - C.S

sub!Chris, mommy kink (yall voted for it dont blame me)

NSFW BELOW, leave if you’re a minor

Aimlessly walking around the mall with Chris, I feel a tug on my arm and turn my head to a smirking Chris. I roll my eyes as I realize he’s leading me into a lingerie store.

“I’ll buy you something come on” He smirks.

I follow him inside, scanning around with my eyes. Knowing he likes red on me best I walk over to a red set.

“What about this one?” I ask.

“Mmm think we can find better” He hums.

I nod and continue looking, before Chris bring my attention to a different set.

“This one” He says.

“You think so? I’m not sure if that’ll fit properly” I reply.

“Try it on first then” He shrugs.

We make our way over to the change room, my hand dropping his as I made my way inside, going to shut the door before Chris shoved himself inside.

“Chris! What are you doing? There’s no way this is allowed” I whisper-shout.

“I’ll stay quiet, I just wanna see” He says innocently.

I sigh knowing there was not use fighting him on this, and hand him the set to hold while I undressed.

“Turn around” I said.

“What? Why?” He asks.

“So it’s a surprise idiot” I laugh.

“Fine” He huffs.

Once he’s turned around, i finish removing my clothes and grab the set out of his hands. Putting the set on, I look myself over in the mirror and debate if I like it or not but before I could make up my mind Chris speaks.

“You’re taking forever” He whines.

“Oh relax you can turn around” I reply.

I watch as he turns around and his eyes immediately scan their way down and then up my body. A smirk immediately forming on his face.

“Looks so good ‘ma” He says, his hands pulling me in by my waist.

“Think so?” I smile, questioning whether I could feel him growing hard or not.

“Mhm, one look and I’m already hard for you” He mumbles into my neck, his lips trailing down towards my cleavage.

I laugh quietly before replying, “Chris we can’t in here”

“We just gotta be quiet, can’t look this good and expect me not to need you” He says, his lips leaving kisses on my breasts as his hands make their way to my ass.

“Just wait till we’re home” I reply, despite turning down his offer a wetness started to form between my legs.

“Fuck it we’re leaving now then” He says stepping back from me.

My eyebrows furrow slightly before I nod and change back into my clothes. Chris doesn’t spare a glance at any employees or people on our way out, his eyes staying on the exit.

Getting into the car he leans over the console and connects our lips. A groan falling from his mouth as I tugged on his hair.

“If we don’t stop I’m gonna fuck you in the back” He says.

Arguing with myself on whether to give in or not, I smile before deciding making him wait would be better in the long run.

“Drive then” I reply.

He adjusts himself through his jeans before starting the car and beginning to drive home. I smirk before placing my hand over his dick. His eyes flickering over to me before returning back to the road. We stay silent as I palm him, glancing over at him and watching his hands grip the steering wheel tighter the longer I continued.

Pulling into the driveway, Chris doesn’t waste a second, getting out and walking up towards the door. Unlocking the door we both walk in, him leading us towards the bedroom.

Shutting the door behind us, he sits on the bed and pulls me between his legs. I push him down and straddle him, my hips immediately starting to grind on him. Our tongues fight for dominance as the make out session only becomes more intense.

“Need you so bad” He mumbles through this kiss.

“Take off your belt” I say.

He does as I say, undoubtedly thinking nothing of it. Once he has it off, he pulls his shirt off as well, I grab the belt from him, pushing his arms upwards and connecting his wrists before looping the belt around them and tying them to the headboard.

“What - what are you doing?” He asks.

“Trust me” I smirk.

My fingers trail their way down his stomach, my fingers toying with the hem of his jeans before unbuttoning them.

I pull down his jeans, his eyes filled with anticipation as my hand now moved to his boxers.

“Are you gonna be a good boy?” I question.

“Yes yes I promise” He quickly answers.

I nod before removing his boxers, his dick smacking against his stomach as I did. His hips buckle upwards as he watches me spit onto my hand, my hand wrapping around him and slowly moving up and down causing his hands to attempt to pull away from the headboard.

“Been so patient for mommy” I say, beginning to move my hand faster.

“I need - please” He stutters.

“Need what hm?” I ask.

“I need your mouth, I - please mommy?” He pleads.

I nod before bringing my head down, my tongue swirling around his tip. His hands once again trying to pull away from the headboard.

Lifting my head up, I look at him before saying, “Be a good boy if you want me to keep going”

“Okay yes I’m sorry” He says.

I continue swirling my tongue around his tip before lowering my mouth further onto him. Whimpers leaving his mouth as I began bobbing my head up and down.

“Feels so good mommy fuck” He whines, his hips thrusting every so often causing his dick to hit the back of my throat.

My hand stroking what couldn’t fit into my mouth, his whimpers grow louder.

“My hands, please I need to touch you” He moans out.

I ignore his request, bobbing my head faster and feeling his dick twitch in my mouth.

“Mommy - I’m gonna come” He whines.

“Not yet pretty boy” I respond, his jaw dropping slightly as I pulled myself away from him, “You haven’t made mommy feel good yet have you?”

His hands buckle again in response. His eyes on my body as I began removing my clothes. Once naked, I spread my legs and begin playing with myself as he watched.

“Let me” He whines, his eyes still glued on me, “I’ll make you feel good I promise”

“Yeah? You wanna make me feel good?” I ask, my motions stopping.

“Yes god I need to taste you” He responds.

I smirk at him before reaching over him and undoing the belt, his hands immediately grabbing my breasts and toying with my nipples.

I bit my lip to suppress a moan, my hand laced within his hair as he took each nipple into his mouth and swirled it around it.

“Prove to me how badly you need me” I say.

He lowers his hands as I lay on my back, tugging his arm slightly to telling him to move between my legs. He quickly moves himself between my legs.

“So pretty mommy” He says, his eyes flickering up to mine, “So wet”

“Don’t make me wait come on baby” I tell him, my hand moving to the back of his head and pushing slightly.

Without a second going by I feel his tongue licking up my pussy, causing a moan to leave my mouth. His tongue makes its way from my opening to my clit and he begins flicking it. My back arches in response to the increase of pleasure.

“Such a good boy for me” I moan, him humming in response causing vibrations to flow through me.

He continues flicking his tongue, circling it around my clit and sucking. My climax growing the closer the longer he did.

“Taste so good” He says.

“Don’t stop, make mommy come. Show me how good you are for me” I groan out.

He does as I said, my hands pulling his hair harder as I felt my high take over. My thighs closing around his head as pleasure radiated through me.

“Fuck so good” I moan.

Following my climax, I pull his body up towards mine, his eyes looking directly into mine.

“Please - let me fuck you please mommy. I need to be inside you” He asks.

“Better fuck me good pretty boy” I reply.

He aligns himself with my entrance, slowly pushing himself inside of me. A whimper falls from his lips as he begins thrusting himself in and out.

“So tight” He moans.

“Harder, you can do better than this” I demand.

“I - yes yes” He responds.

His pace grows faster, his hips now slamming against mine as his dick made contact with my g-spot with every thrust.

“Yes - just like that, making mommy feel so good” I moan, my head tilted back as I felt a knot forming in my stomach.

“I can’t last much longer” He whimpers.

“Been so good for me, let go baby” I moan, barely able to control my own body from the pleasure.

He eyes clench shut and he throws his head back as I feel him fill me up, the sweat on his forehead noticeable with the lighting as moans repeatedly fall from his mouth. The sight of him was enough to push me over the edge, my legs wrapping around him as my body once again was flowing with pleasure.

“Fuck you feel so good around me” He whines out, his thrusts becoming sloppy as his high died down.

I feel his eyes on me as my high comes to an end, his thrusts only stopping fully once he was sure I was finished. I pull his body against mine again, my hand thrown around his shoulders as I kissed him once, pulling away before speaking, “Seeing you beg is something I’ll never get tired of”

“Mmm can’t help it, you feel too good” He smiles back, “Next time I’m bending you over right in the change room”

TAGLIST: @thatonekid536 @loveesiren @daddyslilchickenfingers @christinarowie332 @ilovemattsturn @its-jennarose @lovingsturniolo @iwantmattsobad @secret-sturniolo @soursturniolo @knowingnothingnoel @mwah0mwah @sturniolosreads @yesterdaysproblem @freshloveforthefit @thecynthh @m4tthewsgf @meerkatzthings @creamoncreamoncream2 @avasturn @ssturniolo92 @slut4chr1s @dev-speaks @freshlovehacker @chrisfavoritepepsi @stramboli4life @mattnchrisworld @sturnioloenthusiast @ashleighpray23 @leah-loves-lilies @athaliahxoxo @chrisloyalgf @bernardenjoyer @udonotknowme @sophssturn

[maxillness]

🇦🇺 || Day 30: Sexy Clothing || MW2 x Piastri!reader

Warnings: 18+, unprotected sex, age gap (early 20s/late 40s), sex in Oscar’s drivers room 😃👍, webbonso making an appearance

Wordcount: 0.6k

Mark had met Oscar’s younger sister many times, but she was always dressed baggy. She was always dressed like Adam Sandler, if you will

So when he stood with Fernando in the paddock, just small talking, he couldn’t stop himself from obviously eyeing her like candy when she walked with skin tight clothes that covered nothing of her skin

���Oi. Amigo” Fernando chuckled, slapping Mark’s arm, making the Aussie turn his head back to him “You’re eyeing her like a piece of meat” His teeth was on display as he smiled

“Can you blame me? Look at her” She was barely in the line of sight now “She’s fucking hot” Mark whispered

“She’s Oscar’s sister- younger sister” Nando emphasised, looking at Mark with a warning look

“Argh. I know” Mark groaned “I just can’t help myself” He mumbled “I’m so fucking stupid”

“You like her or something?” Fernando asked curious

“No” Mark shook his head “She’s Oscar’s sister, for fuck sake. Nicole would kill me”

“Oh… So you just wanna bang her” Fernando hummed teasingly

“Nando!” Mark groaned, knowing he was right

Oscar had won, much to everybody’s surprise. His first F1 victory

It should be celebrated, and people did celebrate it, just not her

While debrief was going on, she had gotten her computer, sat in Oscar’s drivers room and started studying

“Shouldn’t you be out celebrating” She yelped slightly as she heard Mark’s voice from the doorway

“Jesus, Mark” She panted, hand covering her heart and her eyes closed

“My apologies” He chuckled, stepping into the room, closing the door softly behind him, subtly locking it

“It’s fine. I don’t really like partying” She shrugged slightly

“Are you studying?” He asked confused, sitting down beside her on the small couch “It’s still summer break” He chuckled softly

“I like to be prepared” She nodded softly

Mark didn’t really remember what had happened between that conversation and when she slowly slid down onto his cock, her panties pushed to the side

“Fuck- Mark, we shouldn’t” She gasped as she had slid all the way down into him

“Come on, sweetheart. We already started, might as well finish” He chuckled, kissing her exposed neck softly

She nodded softly, slowly starting to move on him, feeling his hands grip her hips tighter under her skirt that was pushed up around her waist

“If we take too long, Oscar’s gonna leave without me” She panted into Mark’s neck

“I’ll drive you, baby” Mark said, moving her faster, small moans escaping her lips as well as his own

“You don’t have to-“ “Just shut up” Mark kissed her in the middle of her sentence, cutting her off and getting her quiet, her hips moving faster on him

“F-fuck. Mark, please. ‘M so close” She panted, moaning softly against his lips

“I know, baby. I know” He groaned softly, feeling her walls clench down around him, drawing him closer to his orgasm as well

“Come for me, sweetheart” He mumbled, kissing her to muffle her moans when she came

A few thrusts later, and she came around him, moans muffled into his lips, walls clenching rapidly around him, her body shaking slightly

The feeling of her coming around him was too much, and he couldn’t hold back anymore

He held her hips down against his own, coming deep inside her with a soft groan, her body falling forward against his, her arms around his neck

“Oscar’s gonna kill me” Mark panted into her neck

“It’s more likely my mother who will kill you” She chuckled softly, slowly sliding off of him, pulling a whine from herself at the emptiness

[reaper2187]

Kathryn Hahn x female reader

Scene opens with Kathryn Hahn and Y/N sitting side by side in front of a camera for Wired’s Autocomplete Interview. The two are on a press tour for their latest movie together, a dark comedy-thriller with a supernatural twist. Kathryn, with her warm smile and energetic demeanor, contrasts with Y/N’s more stoic, but subtly charming presence. Y/N is 23, tall, and has a masculine-presenting style—she’s often dressed in darker clothes, favoring leather jackets and combat boots, a stark contrast to Kathryn's colorful, quirky outfits.

They both look at the famous whiteboard with Google search questions taped onto it, ready to answer fans' most searched questions.

Kathryn: (grinning at the camera) Hello, Wired! We are here for the Autocomplete Interview! I’m Kathryn Hahn, and this is the incredible Y/N, my co-star, who you probably know from her chilling horror roles or as Knightmare in the Marvel universe.

Y/N: (smiling slightly, a subtle quirk of her lips) Hey.

Kathryn: (playfully nudging Y/N) She’s super talkative, as you can tell. laughs But, seriously, she’s brilliant, so let’s see what people are curious about!

Kathryn peels off the first question.

Kathryn: Alright, first one! reads “Is Kathryn Hahn…”

Y/N: (leaning over to read too, curious) Ooh, let’s see what they wanna know about you.

Kathryn: laughs I’m nervous! “Is Kathryn Hahn…related to Adam Sandler?” Oh, wow. laughs

Y/N: snorts softly What?

Kathryn: Yeah, no. I’ve been in a movie with him, sure. But related? No. That would be an interesting family dynamic, though, wouldn’t it?

Y/N: nodding with mock seriousness Yeah, you guys could have, like, a whole comedic dynasty thing going on.

Kathryn: laughs Right? Imagine family dinners—just bits, all the time. But nope, not related. Alright, next! tears off another strip

“Is Kathryn Hahn…a witch?” laughs loudly Okay, okay, I see where this is coming from.

Y/N: grinning now Agatha Harkness. People loved you in that.

Kathryn: dramatic voice The power of Agatha compels them! laughs But no, I’m not actually a witch in real life. I just play one on TV, and apparently, I’m convincing.

Y/N: smirking Too convincing, maybe.

Kathryn: You know, with all the witchy roles, I might start believing it myself. Alright, next! Y/N, your turn!

Kathryn hands Y/N the board, and Y/N tears off the next strip of questions.

Y/N: reads “Is Y/N…”

Kathryn: leaning in with curiosity Ooooh, I like this.

Y/N: deadpan “Is Y/N a serial killer?”

Kathryn: bursts out laughing Oh my God, of course that’s the first thing people want to know!

Y/N: shrugs with a smirk Can’t really blame them. I’ve, uh, killed a lot of people. Kathryn giggles at that On screen.

Kathryn: Yeah, let’s make that clear! She’s a total sweetheart off-screen, I swear.

Y/N: quirking an eyebrow Thanks. But no, not a serial killer. Just play one in horror movies. turning to the camera with a mock serious tone Don’t worry.

Kathryn: teasing I mean, she is very convincing, though. Sometimes I wonder. laughs You’ve got this whole intense thing going on in your roles. How do you flip the switch between being the killer and just, you know, hanging out?

Y/N: considering for a second Honestly, I just look at it like a job. I step into the character’s head, and then once the scene’s done, I step out. It’s like leaving the mask behind.

Kathryn: nodding That’s cool. And also, the intensity you bring to those characters? Terrifying. You know how many nightmares you’ve given people?

Y/N: smirking Knightmares, you mean?

Kathryn: laughs Yes! Marvel’s very own Knightmare, everyone! Speaking of which… Kathryn rips off the next strip “Is Y/N in Marvel?”

Y/N: nodding slightly Yeah. I play Knightmare. She’s the daughter of the Seven Deadly Sins.

Kathryn: Which is so badass.

Y/N: chuckling softly Yeah, she’s… complicated. A lot of darkness in her, but she’s also figuring out her place in the world. Kind of like me, except I don’t have demon parents.

Kathryn: laughing That we know of!

Y/N: dryly True.

Kathryn: Knightmare is such a cool character, though. Dark, complex, a little terrifying. Very much your brand.

Y/N: nods Yeah, I like playing her. She’s got layers.

Kathryn: You’re amazing in that role. Every time you come on screen, people are like, "Oh no, things are about to get real."

Y/N: smiling a little more now Thanks. It’s fun getting to show up in the Marvel universe and just… bring that intensity. But also not just be, you know, the villain. She’s more than that.

Kathryn: seriously Absolutely. There’s so much more going on with her. I love that Marvel’s giving you that space to explore it.

Y/N nods, visibly comfortable in the conversation, though still measured in her responses. Kathryn peels off the next question.

Kathryn: reads “Can Kathryn Hahn…” pauses “…sing?”

Y/N: grins Can you?

Kathryn: laughs Yes! I mean, I can carry a tune. I did some singing in Central Park and WandaVision, and I love it. But I wouldn’t call myself a full-on singer. You wouldn’t see me in, like, a rock band or anything.

Y/N: teasing I don’t know, I think you could pull it off.

Kathryn: playfully Oh, please. With you on guitar? We could start a band! What would our band name be?

Y/N: deadpan Agatha and the Knightmares.

Kathryn: laughing hysterically YES! That’s it. You’ve just named our band. We’ll tour next year.

Y/N: smiling, slightly amused I’m in.

Kathryn: still chuckling Alright, let’s see what’s next. tears off another strip “Can Y/N…fight?”

Y/N: smirking I hope so.

Kathryn: mocking awe You are so intense. But seriously, you do all your own fight scenes, right?

Y/N: Yeah, mostly. I train a lot for them. It’s important to me that the physicality feels real, especially in the horror stuff and as Knightmare.

Kathryn: nodding You’re amazing at it. I mean, I’ve seen you fight on set. You’re no joke.

Y/N: modestly Thanks. It’s all choreography, but yeah, I like it. It’s like a dance in a way.

Kathryn: smiling A deadly dance, but yeah, I see it. You’ve got that precision.

Y/N: shrugs Gotta keep the audience on the edge of their seats.

Kathryn: You definitely do. Every time you fight, it’s like, “Oh no, someone’s about to die.” But you also bring this emotion to it, like it’s not just about the violence.

Y/N: nodding Exactly. It’s more than the fighting. There’s always something driving it—whether it’s survival, vengeance, fear, whatever. That’s what makes it interesting.

Kathryn: impressed See? This is why you’re so good at what you do. You put so much thought into it.

They share a smile, and Kathryn reaches for the next question.

Kathryn: reads “Does Kathryn Hahn…”

Y/N: mock suspense Drumroll.

Kathryn: laughs “…have tattoos?”

Y/N: looking at Kathryn, curious Do you?

Kathryn: laughing No, I don’t! I know, shocker, right? I’m like, the most tattoo-less person ever. But I do think about it sometimes. What about you?

Y/N: shrugs A few. Nothing crazy, though.

Kathryn: intrigued Really? Where?

Y/N: teasingly You’ll have to guess.

Kathryn: laughing Ooh, mysterious. Okay, okay

. I’m not gonna push you for details, but I’m now very curious.

Y/N: smirking Good.

Kathryn: shaking her head, smiling Alright, next! “Does Y/N like horror movies?”

Y/N: nods slightly Yeah, I do. It’s weird because I’m in them so much, but I love the tension, the atmosphere. It’s not just about the scares for me. It’s about what horror can say about fear, about people.

Kathryn: thoughtful That makes sense. You don’t just act in them—you kinda live and breathe them. What’s your favorite?

Y/N: pausing to think I’d probably say The Shining. It’s a classic, but it’s more psychological than just jump scares. There’s this creeping dread that sticks with you.

Kathryn: nodding Yeah, that movie is so unsettling. I can totally see why you’d love that. You bring that same kind of dread to your roles.

Y/N: shrugging modestly Thanks.

Kathryn: teasing And yet here you are, the nicest person in real life. It’s wild.

Y/N: smiling slightly Gotta keep people guessing.

Kathryn: laughing You’re good at that.

They both share a relaxed look before Kathryn grabs the final question.

Kathryn: Last one! “Does Y/N have a Marvel future?”

Y/N: glancing at the camera with a slight grin That’s… classified.

Kathryn: laughs Classic Marvel answer! But seriously, people are excited to see more of Knightmare. And I think they should be. You’re fantastic in that role.

Y/N: nodding We’ll see. There’s a lot of potential for where Knightmare can go. I’m just along for the ride.

Kathryn: excited And we can’t wait to see it!

They both look at the camera as Kathryn wraps up.

Kathryn: Alright, that’s it for our Wired Autocomplete Interview! Thanks for hanging out with us and for all the weird, funny, and insightful questions!

Y/N: nodding Yeah, thanks.

Kathryn: grinning And don’t forget to check out our new movie—it’s a wild ride!

Y/N: smirking It’s killer.

Kathryn: laughing Of course you’d say that!

The camera fades out with the two of them laughing together, a perfect blend of Kathryn’s infectious energy and Y/N’s cool, subtle charm.

I tried a bit of a different style with this one, hope that's ok also I did another oneshot since I was away for sometime, I started University like 2 week ago and I'm still getting used to the timetable and that shit

[alexwritingspot]

hii!! I was wondering if you could write percy jackson x reader with prompt 3 or 7? I know that you wrote an enemies to lovers recently but those are the vibes that these two prompts give me. maybe it can be something else! feel free to do whatever you're comfortable with!! love you, thank u!!

Hidden feelings…

An unexpected convocation from the gods leads to a messy confession behind the closed doors of a elevator…

Prompts 3 and 7: “Wait- are you jealous?” “You wanna kiss me so bad~”

pairing: Percy Jackson x reader

word count: 1.4k

Warnings: none

————————————————————————————

A/n: Hi darling! I deeply apologise for making you wait so long! 😓 In the start I had promised myself I would have written your story pretty early, but then I didn’t have a scenario in mind! So I’m really sorry if you waited like- two months, before getting your request done, hope you won’t unsubscribe because of this 🧡😭 anyway, enjoy your reading!

P.S. I tried making this a bit longer as an apology

————————————————————————————

You couldn’t believe it. You were walking to the Empire State building with Percy Jackson, the famous son of Poseidon, the hero of the Olympus and also your enemy. You didn’t really hate each other, you simply couldn’t stand him because he always took the spotlight on himself, leaving the others with no time to shine. Even if he claimed that he didn’t want all the attention for himself and that he even tried to hide from the spotlight you didn’t quiete believe him. But here you were, walking by his side after a flash convocation from the Olympus, what did they possibly want?

You had tried to figure that out since Chiron had called you over at the big house, but you didn’t give yourself a proper answer. You kept walking and you tried to ignore the glances that sometimes Percy sent your way. “Today the sky is really cloudy” he said in a attempt to try and make conversation “I bet the king himself didn’t wake up with the right foot” he joked, trying to ease at least a bit the palpable tension between the two of you. “I bet that he’s going to fulminate you one day if you keep talking about him like that” you said with a sharp glare threw in his direction.

After walking for about ten minutes more you both arrived at the entrance of the enormous building. “Here we are” you said, and before Percy could add anything else you were already inside the skyscraper.

You entered the building and went straight to the receptionist “600th floor” You simply said, giving the poor employer a death glare. He looked back emotionless “we don’t have a 600th floor” he was doing his job, you didn’t really blame me for it. “Look, you’re talking to a child of g/p and a son of Poseidon so you better let us in-“ before you could finish Percy stepped in, gently pushing you aside.

“Sorry for my friend here, but you see, they are having a bad day and a convocation from the gods really was the cherry on the top, but we need to get on Olympus as soon as possible, you wouldn’t want Poseidon or g/p mad at you because you didn’t let their children up, would you?” He pulled out a confident smile and you rolled your eyes.

The man looked between the two of you before stamping something on a paper sheet. “And what might your names be?” He asked, and you were starting to lose it “Listen here you little-“ but before you could add anything else Percy pulled you back again “Percy Jackson and Y/N L/N, now may we enter the elevator… please?” He looked at the employer expectantly.

He stamped something else before getting up and starting walking “this way” Percy let out a sigh of relief. You and the son of Poseidon followed him until you were arrived “Have a nice trip to Olympus” he said flatly, before walking back to his desk.

The two of you entered the elevator and when the door closed leaned over the mechanical box’s “wall” to catch your breath.

”I’m not your friend” You suddenly blurted out “I didn’t come here to keep you company or anything, I came here cause I was summoned by Zeus himself, so don’t make up strange ideas in that head of yours.” You warned and crossed your arms.

He looked at you slightly hurt “Has a manticore stung you or something? You’re more bitter than usual.” You shot him a death glare but said anything, his eyes had caught your interest, they were beautiful… For Hades, what were you thinking?!

You quickly looked away and waited as it played in the background an old song named “You make my dreams (come true)” by some old singer you couldn’t remember the name of. You wondered who had chosen the elevator playlist, it had probably been Apollo or one of the muses.

You glanced around and found Percy staring over at you, he had a strange look on his face, and you couldn’t quite place the emotions he was feeling. “What is it? Do I have something on my face?” You asked, not because you were actually worried about your appearance, more to break the strange atmosphere that was building up.

He quickly shook his head “no no, I was just looking at you… you’d be even prettier if you smiled more sometimes” he stated, and you looked at him, your mouth slightly agape. You tried to hide the forming blush of your cheeks, but you failed miserably. At that he let out a chuckle.

That only made you blush more, the tips of your ears red from embarrassment. “I…” you tried to come back at him with something, but you just couldn’t, he was too handsome in that moment. “Just shut it, would you sushi prince?” It was meant to be a sort of mocking insult, but it came out cuter than you expected.

You saw Percy take a step closer “Sushi prince?” He ask, trying to be serious, but barely managing to hold in a laugh. “Yeah, cause you’re a son of Poseidon, and fish call you prince, and you use fish to make sushi-“ I looked up at him “you know what? Drop it, it wasn’t that great of an insult” You simply concluded.

“No why? No one had ever called me that, it’s… creative, let’s say” he tried. You gave him a look that said ‘really?’ And them the two of you bursted out laughing. Maybe he wasn’t so bad after all…

You unintentionally took a step closer to the boy, there had always been something that had attracted you to him in the years, but you denied it behind the excuse that you didn’t like him, but oh boy if you did, liked him. But then something he said pulled you out of your thoughts. The elevator had stopped. Why? You asked yourself. Of course it would have been you.

He looked at you “there’s no need to worry, Annabeth explained me once how these things work, we just have to call in the emergency” he stated calmly as he pressed the yellow button. “Annabeth, huh?”you asked him. You couldn’t quite place what was the strange feeling that you felt in the pitch of your stomach when he named her, but you didn’t like it.

“Yeah, Annabeth” he replied and you just stared at him “you and her are pretty close, aren’t you?” You ask, annoyed. Percy just looked at you, slightly confused. “Well, yeah, but we’re only friends.” He stated, and you could hear in his voice that he was telling the truth. Then why didn’t you believe him? “Oh yeah, just friends, got it” you retorted back, and you cursed yourself for not having held your tongue.

He seemed surprised but then… a sly smirk formed on his lips. “Wait- are you jealous?” He smiled like a little kid on Christmas day. You looked away “No…” but your redness was hard to hide now. “You’re jealous! Oh gods, you’re all red” he laughed, and maybe, but just maybe, his voice wasn’t as annoying as you remembered.

“What if I am?” You then asked him, still leaning on the wall of the elevator. He smiled even more cheekily “No nothing, I just think it’s cute” he said, and leaned closer. You didn’t push him away, yet you didn’t lean in.

“Why do you hate me?” He asked “I don’t hate you” you paused “I just think you are incredibly self-centred sometimes” you admitted. “Oh, thank you” he replied sarcastically with a playful roll of his eyes “Just so you know, I don’t find you self-centred, annoying or anything like that, you’re just impulsive” he stated, and he was standing so close…

You glanced at his lips, because how could you not? You then forced your glance back on his. His usual smirk returned “You wanna kiss me so bad~” he teased and then leaned over the wall, pinning you to the elevator wall, but you weren’t intimidated. “So, what if I do, Jackson?” You asked in anticipation of what was about to come.

“Oh nothing” he answered and leaned closer, your lips just a few inches away “maybe I want too” and then his lips crashed onto yours, and nothing else mattered, it was only the two of you, and you wouldn’t trade that feeling for anything else.

[the-moon-files]

Wait, quick idea! Twilight looks like the only hylian in his village because everyone else has round ears, so what if he wasn’t as surprised as the others to see their human companion so resilient, but still fairly impressed because of the fact that most if not all people in his village don’t put themselves in as drastic situations as the reader? Or is this just humans from our world?

get out of my head lmao /lh - you, me, and wayfayrr are actually the same person on diff accounts LMAO

im of the belief that (blame @wayfayrr, my beloved) that he knows of humans bc of some in his village but yeah, just not the type of human in drastic situations

(ALSO they wrote me a fun, long, glorious, male reader human space orc au fic for winning their raffle a bit ago, and it brings up their headcanon abt this and i Adore It actually, check it out here pls if u wanna know🤲)

(also if u see this wayfayrr, sorry for the ping, also should i be calling u moss? or wayfayrr?? idk which, i hope thats even ok to ask 😭 i assumed u would call my ass Moon)

Moon: Male-Masc Reader (he/him)

Orbit: short headcanons-ish, rambling mostly

Stars: Twilight Princess Link (Twi/Twilight), mentions of other Links

Comets & Meteors: CWs: none known, & TWs: none known.

Please comment if I missed any. /gen

to reiterate what i said up there, in case u skipped it for the bullet points,

i like the headcanon he knows humans, knows some of their quirks, and how they were the first ppl the other hylian villagers called on to help stuck cows or downed wagons, lots of heavy lifting stuff

but he really hasnt seen the extent of real humans, bc the humans who were in Ordon, well, they lived in hylian society,

why would they need the adrenaline to lift a car when hylians have set up whole tools and systems in all their towns to help lift just a full bucket of water out of the well??

not to mention, i think all the humans in his village were older adults? like at least not the age theyd be doing things like parkour or going to any trampoline parks type of age,

id imagine its more like stories talked about amongst hylians how hard humans can go, and even the humans themselves talked abt things like,

“well compared to u hylians, we have stomachs made of molten lava to you guys really, but we never have to use it, bc u know hylian food works just fine”

when Twi asked they would say stuff like that, but as soon as he saw ur human ass just picking wildflowers and berries off the side of the road to snack on? even random grasses/vines at some point (kudzu)?? easily eating Wild’s Dubious Food that's DEFINITELY got monster parts in it???! gnawing on the bone of a cucco and it just breaks??!!! and you look surprised too, thank fuck finally a normal reaction from u- oh my goddesses u were just curious (damn the elders were right abt human curiosity too) **and are now sucking out the marrow and eating the bone-!!!!!!!!!!!!

Twilight’s perspective of you is actually the equivalent of like, reading stories about vampires all ur life, then this new friend you made starts to get allergic to garlic, crave blood, has crazy strength and advanced senses, etc

and he’s just watching those honest-to-Hylia human mythological feats play out in real time in front of him, like he’s the only self-aware character in the story that immediately clocks the really obvious vampire as a vampire lmao

is the first to either 1. start choking on his laugh as he theoretically knows ur about to jump on the back of a lynel/hinox to ride it around and watch as the others come to the same conclusion OR 2. try to Stop you from jumping on said big monster in an attempt to ride it around bc he gets used to ur human BS quicker than the others and can see it coming a mile away now lol

very much so this meme:

(ur welcome i made it myself <3)

anyway id love to rant abt this dynamic

abt both Twi’s shock at you eating peppers like a god has come down from the sky to prove their immortality,

but also poor rancher esstientally humansitting you too lmao

the Chain/Time/Wars absolutely put him down as the resident human expert like: “ok he just drank like, 5? No- Four stop him from drinking more at least- (dual sighs). okay, 6 stamina potions, will that kill him??”

Twilight, saviour of Hyrule, of the Twili, Link from Twilight Princess himself,

has to keep a record book of all the new shit he’s heard/learned about humans in Ordon, what he has actively learned abt ur ass just fucking around and finding out, and the few bread crumbs of information u give him abt ur species

(that rlly just come off as kind of cryptid statements abt u/humanity, or don't apply in this scenario bc ur only comparison is Earth Rules, which honestly scare every single fucking one of them in the same way as walking on Ganon’s lawn or something, like straight up view ur home planet as enemy territory, the Amazon jungle, the Hyrule wilds if you will-)

Twilight also gets involuntarily volunteered for human-sitting duty too

tbh the only person Not allowed on human-sitting duty, when u guys go new areas esp, is Wild/Hyrule

you’d tell him you wanna get inside the guardian robot to operate it and ride it around and he’d probably be in shock you even fathomed something like that, yet also now EXTREMELY intrigued to watch it play out

(they’re both more of a “u wanna jump off a cliff?? that's actually crazy, wait for me please.” he seems to think he can somehow protect you if he joins you? its worked sometimes to be fair to him ¯\_ (ツ)_/¯ just not really conveniently when the rest of the Chain are around lmao)

☆

i live btw, ive been writing/updating fics along with life updates (moving states/new job/online class) so a few asks will hopefully be answered over here in the next 2ish weeks

no promises, my life is kinda girlbossing at the moment too close to the sun and i am Nervous abt disappointing u guys

i already feel like im disappointing my other blog bc i haven't posted in forever bc im writing a fic instead of asks during any free time i dedicate to writing for it so :/

pls excuse my super slowness like a package ur waiting for in the mail or smth type of slow

AGAIN thanks for the ask!! i hope this was at least entertaining to read as some addon to what u said, you guys have gotta check out some of wayfayrr’s stuff if ur into this, bc they're the only other place i can think of that's talked abt humans not just being the same as hylians

have a great week!!

Peace out hugs and chaos,

🌙

[blackgirlsloveburrow]

NSFW 18+

this is kind of a part two to my joe burrow x uc student!reader fic. you can read it here:

joe and you have been secretly hanging out for a good few months now, and no one has caught on. after that crazy night, you did call him, and he was very adamant about seeing you all of the time.

“joe i can’t come to your house i have homework to do. philosophy is kicking my butt right now,” you sighed.

“baby you can just do it here, i’ll pick you up myself,” he begged.

you laughed. “there’s no way you are bringing that expensive ass car around this run down neighborhood. also you know you’re gonna try to distract me from doing homework the whole time i’m there,” you replied.

“okay you win. but i wanna see you tonight for sure,” he said trying to compromise.

“i was gonna pick up a shift at work later. im trying to save up to buy some new headphones”.

“fuck work. i’ll literally buy you anything you want,” he said aggravated.

“ugh joe you know how i feel about th-“

he cut you off. “i’m picking you up now, and don’t worry i’ll bring one of my more inconspicuous cars. i’ll see you in a bit!”.

he hung up. you flopped in your pillow and groaned. your life has totally changed with him in it. you’re both grateful, but slightly peeved about his generosity towards you. i mean you’re not a person who is used to being spoiled by others. he’s always buying you nice things way out of the price range for a college student.

how do you explain to your friends you have multiple telfar tote bags all of a sudden? lululemon sets? etcetera.

you’re also basically always at his house. his cook makes meals for you, his driver takes you to class, things you would have never imagined for yourself.

let’s not get started on the college life of it all. he doesn’t like you going to frats because he hates all college guys (you can’t say you blame him), every time you mention going to a uc football game he’ll buy you guys box seats to go, and your friends are practically begging you to show your “sneaky link”. it’s very exhausting sometimes.

you definitely are in love with him though.

he’s so sweet and protective of you. he makes sures you’re always eating and not stressing about school. he’s even introduced you to his family and teammates after his games which makes you think maybe you could call him your boyf-

there’s a knock on the door.

you go answer it. it’s joe. all in his 6’4 glory.

“hey,” he smiles. bending down to kiss you.

“hi,” you blush.

“are you ready to go?” he asks.

“yeah let me just pack my book bag and some clothes”.

“you have clothes at the house,” he reminds you.

“oh well i get nervous wearing those. they’re just so nice i don’t want to stand out too much,” you laugh awkwardly.

“well you gotta get used to standing out if you’re with me,” he replied.

“well no one really knows about us,” you say walking to your room. he shuts the front door and follows you.

“well. i want more people to know because…,” he trails off.

“because?” you echo him.

“because i want you to officially be my girlfriend”.

you started at him silently.

“i was going to take you to dinner and properly ask but i couldn’t wait,” he said rubbing the back of his head.

in response you stand on the tips of your toes, wrap you arms around his neck, and pull him into a deep and passionate kiss. he reciprocates it, putting his hands on your sides.

when you guys finished, you responded.

“yes. i’ll be your girlfriend,” you say smiling widely.

he picks you up and spins you around, smiling too.

"alright get your stuff together and change so i can go feed you,” he says.

fast forward a little later in the night, you guys are at a really nice restaurant. you just finished your food and had a couple of drinks, and decided to sit on the same side of the booth as joe. he has his hand on your thigh feeling the material of your dress. you’re kissing his jaw and face.

“let’s go to the car baby,” he says. both amused by your affection and a little hard. he gets the check and leads you to the parking garage.

he pushes you up against his car and starts making out with you. his hands gripping your hips as he rubs his bulge against you.

“you have no idea what you do to me,” he breathes.

before you guys can go any farther he opens the car door for you. you get in and he gets in on his side. he speeds home, breaking a few traffic laws on the way.

you guys make it to the bedroom. he takes off your dress and undergarments. you take off his dress shirt and slide off his underwear and pants.

he’s standing and you get down on your knees in front of him.

you start jerking him off while sucking his tip. he throws his head back in pleasure.

“fuck you suck daddy’s dick so well baby,” he moans. he puts his hand on the back of your head and you start to go deeper, feeling him in the back of your throat.

he pulls you off of him after a while, looking at your watery eyes and saliva around your mouth. he makes you stand up. his hands go down to mess with your aching pussy.

“you’re sopping wet and i haven’t even done anything yet,” he says. you whine, embarrassed.

he continues. “daddy’s gonna fuck you so good baby”.

he backs you into the wall and picks you up by your thighs. you can feel his breath on your face as he lines his tip with your pussy. he pulls your body down on him in one swift motion. he instantly bottoms out in you. you moan loudly.

he starts picking up the pace. basically pulling your body down onto his girth. he’s so big.

then, with your legs around him, he carries your body and puts your back onto the bed, barely having a second before he starts thrusting into you again.

he’s hitting your g-spot so aggressively you start getting ready to unfold. the bed is shaking.

“i-i’m gonna cum. i’m gonna cum joey” you moan.

he starts to go faster, chasing his own high. you come undone, and he starts to get close too.

“i’m gonna cum in you baby fuck,” he grabs your throat and kisses your mouth as pumps his load deep inside of you.

as soon as you guys calm down he pulls out of you. you’re tired afterwards. he gets you one of his shirts to throw on and you guys cuddle in bed. he turns on the tv only to be met with a picture on the news of you guys kissing in the parking garage.

people sure are quick.

you guys just look at eachother and sigh. he kisses your forehead. you guys will just have to figure it out tomorrow.

[lcvclywon]

what if when you're fully awake, i come to my senses

back to masterlist

synopsis ᯓ sunghoon had a picture perfect life planned out with you, but you didn't know how to tell him that wasn't the life you could ever be apart of

warnings ˎˊ˗ cursing, crying, kissing, mentions of family + motherhood, erm lowercase intended, ignore typos lawl, mentions of alcohol

genre ⭑.ᐟ angst

pairings: non-idol ex!sunghoon x female reader

wc ᵎᵎ 1.2k

thoughts frm yuya💭 what acc was this again

2 years. it had been two years since you had broken up with sunghoon and left korea without warning. since then you had started a new life, new friends, new place, new job, new you. but following a promotion in your job you now had to move all the way back to korea. 

to be honest, a small part of you still did care if you would end up seeing him in seoul again. you really shouldn’t be the one caring considering you were the one who ended things but, a small part of you hoped to bump into him. even if it was at work, a random cafe, a restaurant nearby your office, even a brush of shoulders whilst walking down the street would’ve been enough for you. just to see if he was alright, if he was doing better than you after the breakup. but alas, nothing. who were you to blame really, korea was a big country…stupid to think you guys could ever meet. and so eventually as years passed on, the small hope that lingered in your chest eventually faded and you forgot about sunghoon. and that was going great until- 

“YN?“ no way. 

as if fate would have it, there sunghoon stood before you years after you stopped caring. this wasn’t really the way you expected meeting him after all these years, but there you were standing  face to face with him at your local bar after a tough day at work. splendid, really. 

“Sunghoon!” quickly wiping away the dust of laver on your lips you turned around to face him, it was a relief to you that he didn’t look entirely dreadful after seeing you. but in all honesty it made you feel even worse about how things ended. 

“What are you doing back in korea?” he didn’t really bother for an invitation to sit down before grabbing a stool at the bar for himself and seating himself next to you

you finished off the last few sips of beer left in your cup before stuttering out “Oh my um- my job had me move here a couple years back. i think it’s been what- like two years since i’ve been here, yeah two years…” 

“that’s nice, that’s nice…” sunghoon mumbled out while nodding. then you two just sat there, in silence. god what the fuck were you two even doing….

just as you were about to say your goodbyes and rid yourself from this awkward tension he blurted out “why’d you do it?”

“what?” god why were you even playing dumb right now, your gut knew what he was talking about 

“the breakup, why’d you leave like that,” his voice was shaky as he spoke, glancing over you realised he didn’t even look up to your face whilst saying it. maybe he really wasn’t as fine as you thought “you just left really abruptly, i- i just wanna know why?” 

“i-“ mustering up the courage you finally stumbled out “i heard that day…”

“what?” please don’t make me hurt you by saying it sunghoon…

“that day with heeseung, i heard it.”

“i’m not quite understanding-“

“You were talking about wanting a family, wanting kids….with me-“ 

“oh…”

“i tried you know, i tried to want that too. i tried imagining myself with kids, our kids, and i tried feeling happy at the thought. but i was just scared..” you couldn’t help but laugh at your own pathetic behavior “i’m not fit to be a mother sunghoon, i wouldn’t be a good one.” 

“was that…” he paused to inhale a shaky breath “was that the reason?”

you could only nod in response. 

“yn, why didn’t you just tell me? i would’ve understood, we could’ve talked things through.”

“hoon,” the nickname still left your mouth with a smile “we were together for five years, five years you probably harbored that dream. and i didn’t wanna get in the way of that because i was scared…and god you just- you sounded so happy describing it”

“you could’ve just told me-“

“i didnt want you to change your hopes and dreams just because i didn’t fit it. i wanted you to have a life with a woman who could make you happy, a life where you could have those dreams, a life where you could be a father.”

“i don’t want any part of that life if it’s not with you…” what was meant to come out as an outburst only left his mouth was a defeated surrender. 

you didn’t really know what to say, so you just hugged him. you engulfed him between your arms letting his head rest on the crook of your neck, feeling how his tears stained your collarbones. 

“we shouldn’t do this…” you whispered out, as if speaking too loud would snap him out of whatever trance he was in 

“no, we shouldn’t…” he didn’t let go though “do you not want to at least try, it’s been years. i’ve changed” 

finally pulling away you cupped his tear stained cheeks with your hands before replying with “i get that you’ve changed hoon, probably for the better too. but i don’t think i have, and i still can’t give you that dream. i wouldn’t be giving you a life you deserved” 

“yn,” your name left his tongue like a plead before his hand reached up to meet yours “a life with you is all that i want.”

you wanted to believe this, but you knew deep down it wasn’t what he wanted. it was what he was settling for. 

“i cant take that life away from you hoon. i cant be selfish again.” you smiled weakly at him trying to cover up the fact that you could practically hear your own heart shattering “be with someone who can be enough. please” 

he didn’t respond. he only inched his face closer to yours to press a tender kiss on your lips, and you didn’t bother to stop him. you kissed him back but you both knew, it wasn’t a kiss to save whatever scraps of the relationship you had left, it was goodbye. perhaps that’s why you let his lips linger a little longer, perhaps that’s why you let him snake his arms around your waist and tangled them though your hair, perhaps that’s why you let yourself enjoy the kiss a little more, perhaps thats why you weren’t the one to pull away this time. 

facing his tear stained cheeks and hopeless expression once again, you couldn’t help but feel a sense of deja vu. but this time you let him be the one to walk away first. 

“goodbye yn, i love you”

“goodbye hoon.” you couldn’t really return the last sentiment 

it was sad, the whole situation. but you knew it was for the better. you knew you weren’t what sunghoon wanted, nor what he should settle for. somewhere down the line, even if it hurt you now, it would make sense. it wouldnt kill you everytime you thought of it, it wouldn’t break your heart or make you sob. over time it would get better.

perhaps that’s why, five years down the line, when you happened to cross by sunghoon walking happily down the street wtih his daughter on top of his shoulders as his wife laughed…you could only smile. 

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