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madamechrissy · 2 days ago

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♔ Silent Serenades ♔

♔ An arranged Marriage with Duke Gojo ♔

♔ Pairings: Duke Satoru Gojo x Duchess Reader

♔ Content/Warnings: Explicit sexual content, dirty talk, breeding kink, spitting, Satoru calls reader 'slut during sex, some nipple biting, cum play, mostly cute and fluffy (believe it or NOT) Oral (f recieving) mentions of jealousy and past angst

♔ Word count: this chap: 11.2k

♔ Summary: you are the diamond of the season, he is the charming Duke, it’s the marriage of the decade. Prominent families joining, and it so happens that Duke Gojo is gorgeous. But, he doesn't want you at all, leaving you a crying mess on your wedding night, alone. Now you're trapped in a loveless arranged marriage that destroys you from within. Royal AU, Cruel Duke Gojo x reader. OOC Set in 1800s England. Gojo is awful in this. You'll hate Satoru, warning you now. HEAVY angst Basically- Gojo is a royal dick and doesn't wanna marry you

A/N- I go into Gojo's pov but don't divide them! I hope the style if that is okay. <3 Comments and Reblogs vert=y appreciated if you enjoy

Part Thirteen ♔ Masterlist ♔ Playlist

Part Fourteen - The King's Ball

“Fuck this.” Satoru grumbles, you’re arm in arm with him as you both are descending the grand steps down into the opulent ballroom. You giggle a bit behind your white silk glove, he smirks at you.

“Fuck this indeed.” You agree softly, he leans down then, lips just a breath from yours.

“I love that dirty mouth of yours.”

“Mmm, do you now?” Your eyes meet.

“Should I show you how much?” He whispers, and for a moment it’s as if everything in the grand room fades but him.

It’s just you and your Duke, cussing about the party ahead of you, his gaze and words making you flush under the glimmering chandeliers above, highlighting the silver glint of your dress, and the bright white suit Satoru wears tonight. He takes one of your gloved hands, pressing a kiss to the back of it, you exhale when his lips are hovering just above yours.

“You’d kiss me on the lips, in front of all these people?” You tease, he chuckles then, cupping your face.

“I’d do a lot more than that, bury my face under your skirts. Ah, look at you, thoughts driving you to blush?” You take a breath and look around, seeing hundreds of eyes on both of you.

“They’re talking about us, Toru.” He peeks and waves a hand dismissively, setting to walk with you again.

“Saying how beautiful you are.”

“How handsome you are.”

“We’ve gotten sappy, haven’t we?” You grin.

“Positively smushy.” Now Satoru grins.

“Smushy!? Is that a word?”

“It is indeed! Oh Satoru I just want to keep this happiness, not…” You trail off as you both start to greet people now, and you see her, Adelia.

Many people look back and forth from you to her, and now you know a lot more, more than you ever wished to. Satoru feels you tense next to him, a calming hand on the small of your back, fingers brushing up and down. He’s disgusted seeing her, how one person can look like you but be fucking horrible is still unknown to him, but now you have figured it out.

Adelia is your cousin, thank god she’s not a sister, Satoru had a panic attack when you had done some digging. She is your mother’s little sister’s child, one that they had sent off to Scotland, and no one heard of again essentially. Adelia making her own way here is through her own feats, it seemed she did not even come to England until she was an adult.

So you are… related.

You had a feeling of course, it was too uncanny not to, but hearing it from your staff, a staff that basically raised you, cinched it all in. Of course they had been sworn to secrecy, but they had no problem telling you once you explained your situation. It is better than what you thought, what if she was a sister, you felt sick just thinking of that, this was quite tangled enough.

“I still can’t believe it all.” Satoru says, shaking his head. “Oh if I just met you first, you know it would have saved many, many problems.”

“I was rather young then, hmm? How long ago was it?”

“It was a good six years ago when I met her. I suppose you are a little younger than me, am I an old lecher to you!?” He teases, acting affronted.

“Shut it, you're twenty seven, you’re not much older. You still look like a college boy in leading strings.”

“Take that back, insolent little brat.”

“Make me.” You stick your tongue out at him, making his blue eyes glitter, when he looks over your shoulder now and pauses, scowling, his entire mood shifts then as you feel a gaze burning your back. “On no, what is it?”

You look behind you then, to see the King headed straight towards you, him and Adelia challenging the fresh new bliss Satoru and you have is brutal to handle. Every time you think that Satoru and you are so happy finally, there is Nanami in the street seeing you both, there’s one of Satoru’s exes, but now it’s a King, who oddly has his sights on you.

And your…. cousin… ugh.

“Look at you.” King Sukuna’s husky voice says your name softly over the music floating around you all, a cacophony of whispers, giggles, music and heels on the floor. And not only that, but he says your first name, making Satoru positively seethe behind you.

“Your Majesty.” You greet cooly.

“Aren’t you the prettiest thing here.” He murmurs, eyes raking and taking far too many liberties. He then takes your gloved hand and kisses it.

“Certainly not, your Majesty. But thank you.” You politely curtsey, people onlook with little smiles, at the diamond of the season and the King with his attentions on her, you hear their whispers and feel their gazes.

Even married women could not necessarily turn a King down, it was notoriously known, many Kings could have whomever they wanted, and the men had to handle it, even a powerful man such as Duke Gojo. However, you still cannot fathom why he wants to go so far, he is certainly attractive, and a King.

What is he playing at?

“May I have the honor of a dance, Duchess?” He murmurs, eyes glinting a crimson as he smirks on his tanned face, wearing an opulent velvet brocade tonight, he certainly was swooned over.

You look at Satoru, there’s nothing you both can do outwardly, he gives you a little nod, hands clenched into fists at his sides, as he watches the King of England take his wife onto the dance floor. He snatches up two glasses of champagne from a butler walking, downing them in two gulps, looking at his surprised face, his mouth dropped open to Satoru’s amusement.

“Fuck something stronger, please. I know the King has to have some good whiskey” Satoru then hands him several notes, and the butler nods eagerly.

“Right away, your Grace!” He runs off, and soon Satoru is given a glass of whiskey, he sighs, sipping it and watching you over the crystal glass.

“Keep em coming.” The butler bobs his head eagerly.

Satoru is watching you twirl in King Sukuna’s arms, Sukuna’s big hand taking over your little back, pressing you far too close, his other hand encapsulating yours, he’s grinning lewdly down at you, you’re maintaining a smile for appearances. Satoru can tell, it’s not a true smile, something he sees so much more these days, something that captures his heart and soul.

Seeing you smile so sleepy at him in the morning, when you’re in his arms. It’s the sweetest thing in the world, your little giggles when he kisses on your neck, your sassy grin when you find some new ticklish spot of his, and torture him then with your discovery. You are so very beautiful when you truly smile, how it brightens the entire room.

This is that ‘perfect Duchess smile’ of yours.

Satoru falls deeper every fucking day for you, so deep it aches, gnawing at his stomach at the thought of ever losing you, he feels he does not even deserve you, and that at any point you’ll come to your senses. He has just started to get comfortable with the thought that you chose him, when the King and Adelia have come to fuck with both of you.

“Speak of the witch.” He grumbles, when she steps up to him, hand on his shoulder, he shrugs it off.

“Care for a dance, your Grace?” She rolls the words off her tongue, shifting her hips from side to side and batting her lashes.

Satoru scoffs. “Oh, fuck no.”

She glares up at him, it’s nothing like your glare, that feisty little way you set your chin, purse your lips, how your pretty eyes narrow and you decimate him the way only you can. No, this is just her… being Adelia, being the woman who destroyed him, made him so afraid to be vulnerable with you, so sure you’d rip his heart out, especially once he started feeling so much.

He knew it that night of the masquerade, seeing you with your baker… or as his still sore ribs remind him… boxer boyfriend you had. Seeing him touch you, it had awakened something insane in him that night, when he’d been with you in the hallway, when he’d pressed against you, held you and fucking cried, and you had cried right with him, hadn’t you?

You both knew then, that there was something there with you both, something he was destroying completely before it could even begin, and pushing you to help him destroy it. When he’d begged to taste you again, fuck he was pathetic for you, but you’d let him. Though when he’d truly drunk you up in that carriage, after that night at your parents?

You ended him.

He’s so enamored with you dancing, with aching to punch a damn King in the face, he can blissfully ignore this pest of a woman next to him. Satoru sees him dip you over his arm, watches the hair you have coiled in those pretty little ringlets fall over his arm, he swoops you low and then picks you back up in his arms, spinning you slowly to the awws of the room.

Satoru wants to rip his fucking hands off.

“You’re still here?” Satoru finally acknowledges the annoying pest next to him, she pouts up at him, batting long lashes.

“You do know he can have her if he wants?”

“What do you care? And she doesn’t want to.”

“You’ve always been foolish, Satoru. But you know, sometimes I think to myself, I should have only been with you.” Satoru glares down at her now, raising a thing white brow, looking at the spitting image of you trying to fuck with him.

“Shouldn’t have fucked my dad, or all the other men?” She has enough grace to look down for a moment, before stepping closer.

“I’ll explain more if we were to have a moment alone, about your father, about everything.”

“I have no desire to be near you. Go find some dick to hop on, you were quite good at that I suppose. She is much better though.”

“You’re petty and lying, as if her prissy ass is some wild thing in the bedroom, can she even handle how freaky you are?”

Satoru snorts. “I’m exceedingly pleased with her. You’re mad you did not get any of that wealth from your mother, a noble, aren’t you?” She gasps, and he chuckles. “Yes we know, you’re her cousin.”

“How on-”

“Will you go?” Satoru watches as the dance ends, and the King is leading you away from the crowd, his eyes narrow as you look back over your shoulders at them both.

“Oh look, a private moment with the King. And… well Satoru, he is quite skilled in the bed, not as eager as you though, something to be said for that.” Satoru grips her wrist now, as she has a hand on his arm, she gasps just a bit.

“I assure you I’m no virgin any longer, as you enjoyed bragging to my wife, as if she cares.”

“Odd one cousin took your virginity, and you took hers.” Satoru tenses then, and Adelia laughs, a nasty little laugh. “Oh you didn’t! Oh poor Satoru, you’re just not her first pick are you?”

“You have no idea of what you fucking speak of.” Satoru lets her wrist go, wondering where you are, he starts walking through the crowds of people, wishing he could shove everyone out of his way and not have to make stupid polite fucking conversation.

He trusts you, he does, but he doesn’t trust that King, you’re still young and sweet, and he does not want him manipulating you, pressuring you. Adelia trails behind him, he contemplates knocking her out, he’s not above it truly, but he holds himself in, walking by the crowned jewel room, seeing Sukuna behind you, his hands on your waist.

Adelia yanks him into the next room, shutting the door, and he finally snaps, grabbing her shoulders and shaking her. “What the fuck is your end game here? How do you get a King to go along with it?”

“I love this rough side of you, Satoru.” She cooes, fingers trailing down his chest, he smacks them off, backing away, fury rising in his chest.

“I swear to god if you touch me once more, I am not yours to touch, or to manipulate anymore.” She shakes her head at him, sighing and slipping down her sleeves, then more, he stops her. “I have no interest in you.”

“None at all? Seems like you needed my copy to be satisfied.”

“She is everything you could never be.”

“And what is she doing in that room, Satoru, is he touching her?” She whispers, taking his hand as she slips her bodice so low her breasts are revealed, her nipples taut, he looks away at the ceiling, rage making him sick. “What would you do, if he fucked her, hmm?”

“I’d be fucking sick and furious, but I sure won’t be doing a goddamn thing with you, nor any woman.” He yanks his hand back, turning away. “Cover yourself up, stop embarrassing yourself, dear god.”

“Would you let her have her way with anyone?”

“She will not.”

“So explain the virginity?”

“As if it’s your business. Dear god you make a man want to slap you across a room, I hope you know I’m no gentleman.” He turns back, thankfully she’s covered up, her arms crossed. “Give it, what is your game?”

“Ever think I want you back, Satoru? Ever think that I regret everything?” She blinks back tears, he rolls his eyes, they’re unmoving and unbelievable.

“What do you suddenly wish to be my wife? You can never be, fuck you had your stupid chance then, I would have moved mountains for you.” The pain sets in, the torture she put him through. He’s just finally starting to feel like him again, like Satoru Gojo, after years and goddamn years of being a whore, a cruel man.

“Perhaps a mistress, anything to have you back Satoru.” He shoves her off him again, as she steps closer, putting her hands on his chest, looking at him with eyes that he thought he loved, but he feels nothing but contempt. “I miss you, truly miss you, miss everything you did to me, how I felt.”

She’s brushing her fingers across his cheek, making his skin crawl. “I’ll never have a mistress, and I’ll never leave her.”

“For what, what is so special about her? I expected you to jump on this, do you know how in love with me you were? I’ve never felt it since, and I never will again.” She’s crying now, and he cares not, he just wants to get you before Sukuna has hands on you, he does not know his motivations still.

“You will not feel love because you’re a horrible person. And guess what, Adelia?”

“Wh-what?”

“You made me just like you.” He whispers, hands in his pockets, bending down so that they are just an inch apart. “I was a horrible man, I was fucking women right in front of her, I was shit to her. Fuck I was perhaps worse than you, took all my anger out from being with you on her. She shouldn’t even talk to me, yet she chose me, and you nor anyone will ever make me fuck up again.”

She blinks a bit, taking a breath, looking away then. “Satoru I am sorry for what I did, your father promised me a place in society, it was something even you could not offer truly.”

Satoru laughs without humor. “Expect me to feel sorry for you?”

She gasps. “I was from no wealth like you, like your Duchess, despite being from nobility. I had nothing, I earned my place.”

“By sleeping with men? You did not earn a goddamn thing. She earns her place when she is by my side, helping villages, when she listens to me, when she was honest with me, when she gave me a chance I did not deserve. You have not earned anything you have, including whatever you’re doing with the King. You’re nothing Adelia, worse than nothing actually.”

She smacks him hard across the cheek then, the sound echoes in the room, Satoru does not flinch. “You’ve become so cruel, where is the sweet Satoru that I once knew!?”

Meanwhile

“This is the crown and scepter, go on, touch it.” Sukuna says, hard body behind yours, taking one of your hands and putting it on the shimmering gold crown, you hesitate, hating the nearness, hating that sad look you saw on Satoru’s face, making you worry for him and what Adelia would say.

Would she get to him again? Would he be able to stand firm and ignore the lies she spins? Those are your true worries, not if Satoru would stray, in your heart you know he would not, in your heart you know you are his, and he is yours. But you do know the effect and change she had on him in such a short time, and worry her poison will seep into his brain.

“These look heavy, your Majesty.” You manage to say, some small talk to perhaps ease the tension.

“Sukuna.” His voice is deep, his hands slipping against you.

“Your Majesty.” You turn and look up at him, he’s grinning looking wicked, fingers brushing up and down your bare arm. “You are too bold, even for a King.”

“I simply do not mince words, write stupid fucking poems, I say what I want, and I get everything I want.”

“Not me.”

“No?” You shake your head.

“I mean no disrespect, but my heart is spoken for.” He hums quietly, hands trailing up to your shoulders, the backs of his fingers against your collarbone, watching goosebumps rise at the contact.

“Your body is spoken for as well?” He asks huskily, eyeing your decolletage hungrily, your fists clench, breasts rising and falling as you struggle to maintain your composure.

“My body is indeed spoken for, your Majesty.” He smirks just a bit, another hand pressing against your waist, pulling you gently to him.

“Have a night with me, let me show you things your pretty boy Duke could never, I see it in you, the desire to be filled everywhere, hmm? Desire to have your pretty neck choked, have these bitten and bruised.” He dares to brush his fingers against your breasts. “Oh if you were mine you’d have so many marks you wouldn’t wear this, so sore you wouldn’t walk.”

He leans so close, his lips a breath from yours, you pull your head back, jaw setting. “Your Majesty, I’m afraid I have marks all over, just not where you can see. And the ones you could? I cover up.” You say with a pretty smile, he chuckles, tilting your chin up to look into his eyes.

“I see I read you well then, that fire in your eyes, bet you’re fucking insatiable.” You resist the urge to roll your eyes, his thumb brushes over your lower lip, making you want to recoil.

“I am indeed with my husband. Sukuna, can I be frank with you?”

“Ah, you say my name?”

“Listen, I get it, you’re handsome, you get what you want, you’re a King… hard to resist.”

He grins. “You think I’m handsome, huh?” He has a self satisfied smirk you try to not roll your eyes at.

“Oh god. Yes, of course you are, thus, you can have anyone you wish, including my cousin.”

“Ah, figured that out?”

“I did. And I know this is some game between you both, what has she done to make you try this hard at me? What agreement do you have?” You cross your arms, stepping back, and Sukuna laughs then, throwing his head back, booming laughter reigning in the empty room.

“She simply expressed wanting to try with your Duke again, I figured fuck it, some amusement because god the life of a King is so boring now. Oh to be a king in the war of the roses, or something better than this. Stupid balls and operas, and idle fucking gossip. I found the idea entertaining, so I brought her.”

You blink in confusion, it’s all for fun!? “So why me? Am I just some distraction so she can get Satoru?”

“No, actually. This is where you’re confused, Duchess.” He grabs you by your waist now, pulling you against him. “I am not trying to have you for some game with her, I saw you and just fucking wanted you. Badly, too.”

“Not for a game? I do not believe you.”

He shakes his head, gaze dropping you your lips, your hands go to his chest, pressing for him to back away, but he does not budge. “Do you really not know the effect you have? Did he do that much damage?”

You blink back tears then, looking away, Sukuna takes the opportunity to kiss down the side of your neck, hot messy kisses, you’re pushing at him but the man is made of brick it seems, casually holding you too close. His lips go up to your ear, hot breath tickling it, making you shiver.

“I heard the rumors, I must wonder how or why he wouldn’t want you, even if you look like her. Did he make you think so little of yourself?” You hate it, the memories he is stirring, the feelings he’s making you feel, when he takes your face so possessive in his big hand, while the other presses into your lower back.

“It is none of your business, Sukuna. None. What me and my husband went through is our business.” You hear your voice breaking, feeling such anger at how he can so easily bring those memories back.

Sukuna clicks his tongue, thumb brushing over your fluttering pulse, you can feel your chest tightening under the stress of it, of being against him, when all you want is Satoru, all you need is Satoru. You do not want to think of how cruel he was at the beginning, because those memories take you to a dark, dark place, one you never wish to visit again.

“I could make you feel so good, like you deserve. It’s not just your gorgeous little body or pretty face…” His hands trail lewdly down your curves, thumb brushing over your nipple, your hands clenched into fists, breath coming quicker. “It’s your fire, burning so hot, fuck I’d love to feel it.”

“Watch that you do not get burned by it.” You whisper in response, he smirks, so cocky and arrogant, you itch to smack him.

“I’d get burned if it meant a moment with you, and no I do not do this, and I do not do it as a game. Do you not wish to feel like a Queen?” He murmurs, you shake your head. “Oh no? Well, do you think he’ll resist her charms, stay so loyal?”

“If he does not I… I cannot think of that.” He’s playing you, making you think of things you want to shove down, you refuse to do so, shaking your head more firmly now. “I will not think of it.”

“Ah, so let me show you what you’re missing, then Duchess, so you know what you turn down.” He slams his lips against yours, you shove at him again, but he drags you against him, mouth hot and open, tongue trying to get past your sealed lips, pressing deeper until he’s reached his goal, moaning.

Sukuna’s kiss is brutal, passionate and fervent, his hands gripping your ass, dragging you against him. You take a breath, turning your head, for him to turn it back, eyes glinting in the dark, brows raised, his lips parted. You try to step back, but he’s kissing you again, hands sliding up your skirts, up your thighs, and you bite his lower lip then, shoving him.

He chuckles, looking at how hard you bit, lip bleeding just a drop, which he licks. “You are fiery, fuck do you not know what I’d do with you?” He cups your face again, you glare up at him, fucking furious.

“You won’t ever have me. Guess what, even a King does not get whatever he wants, hmm?” You say now, shoving at the brick wall of a man again, he shakes his head with a smirk.

“I can tell you’re excited, I can feel it, see it written all over you.”

“I am furious, is what I am. You will not touch me again.”

“Oh?” He brushes your hair back, and you do it then, you haul off and smack the king of fucking england right in his arrogant face.

Shit.

Meanwhile.

“You changed me with your games.” Satoru retorts to Adelia, just moments before. “Now go fuck off to France, or anywhere, as long as I don’t have to see you again.” Satoru hears a smack echo in the next room, smirking and wondering if his wife just hit the King of England. “That’s my girl.”

“Your girl!?”

Satoru strides past her, as you stride out on the King that you just slapped, and both of you see each other then, in the hall. His cheek reddened from Adelia, your hand stinging from smacking Sukuna, and you damn near burst into tears as you both look at each other. He’s breathing heavily, you’re breathing in short little pants, striding to each other then.

Satoru picks you up in his arms, hugging you so tightly, putting you down and cupping your face, studying you carefully, you feel so good in his arms. “Are you all right, baby?”

You nod quickly. “I may have smacked the King.”

He grins, melting you, but you see it too, the glimmer in his baby blues. “I heard, fuck that turned me on.”

You giggle, insanely, as King Sukuna and bitch A0delia watch you both. “You’re fucking insane, you know that?”

“You fucking love how insane I am, hmm?” You nod, and he’s looking at Sukuna now behind you, before seeing your lips, slightly swollen and reddened, then you see Adelia, her bodice slightly askew, sleeve completely down.

“Did she try to…”

“Did he kiss you!?”

You both nod at your simultaneous questions, then Satoru glares at King Sukuna, and you glare at Adelia, then you both look back at each other in a silent agreement, before you step over to Adelia, who surprisingly has dried tears on her cheeks as she looks at you. You cross your arms, shaking your head as you near her, and as Satoru nears the King.

“Leave him out of your games, he doesn't want you anymore.” Your words just anger her, she steps up to you, shoving at you, you laugh then, back-handing her right in the face as if on instinct.

“You bitch!”

Sukuna and Satoru grin at you, before Satoru scowls at him, and Adelia cups her face in shock. “Do not touch my husband again, is it clear, cousin?”

“You two psychos deserve each other.” She grumbles then, as Satoru shoves the King against a wall, hands on either side of him, Sukuna just smirks.

“Going to hit a King, pretty boy?”

“Pretty boy here would love to break every one of your fingers, one by one for touching her. You do not come near her again, I don’t care who you are. She is my wife. Mine.” Sukuna sighs, patting Satoru on the shoulder then, surprising all three of you in the empty hall.

“A hell of a wife you have. Don’t fuck that one up, because I think she kind of likes me.” You snort, shaking your head as Satoru steps back, glaring.

“I gave you no such impression.” He walks to you then, tilting up your chin and sighing.

“What a shame. These lips… ah well.” He saunters off, with Adelia shouting at him, waving her arms around.

“Her lips are better than mine!? Excuse me!” You and Satoru snort and shake your heads, he comes to hold you from behind, pressing you against him, kissing your cheek. You lean back against him.

“You think they are done?” You ask softly, he exhales, pulling you even closer, before turning you to him, walking forward until you’re pressed against the wall, hands pressing against your waist, hands you crave, hands you love.

“They better be. I’ll kiss every fucking memory of him out of your head.” You whine out softly, and Satoru kisses you boldly, right against that wall, cupping your face, kissing you over and over and over.

You get dizzy from it, from his nipping at your lips, from his tongue delving in your mouth, drinking your soft cries, your body reacts quickly, you feel that heat pool in your tummy, spreading between your thighs. Your own hands slide up to wrap around his neck, fingers interlocking as you tiptoe.

“I love you so much.” He whispers, desperately, you gulp, nodding quickly, uncaring if anyone saw you both.

You’re married, let them see.

“I love you, Satoru. Are you all right? Was she…”

“She means nothing. No one means fucking anything but you.” You’re melting now, as he’s shaking while he holds you, hand enwrapping in the back of your hair at the nape of your neck.

You drown in him, as your breaths mingle, as his forehead rests on yours, your eyes shut as you feel him, as the love hums through you, your entire being. “Satoru, I need you.” You whisper.

“I need you.” He hums softly. “I need out of this damned palace.”

“Let us leave.” Satoru and you rush through the ball, you’re both breathless by the time you await outside for your carriage, in the dark, chilly night you shiver just a bit, Satoru pulls you against him, warming you. “I’ll never let someone touch you.”

“I don’t want anyone to. I totally smacked him hard.”

“And you backhanded her.” You both laugh, you’re certainly both insane, aren’t you? But none of that matters, not when you have this, when you know you both can get through it all.

“My hand hurts.” He takes off your gloves then, kissing the back of your hands gently, smirking as he runs a thumb over the back of your knuckles.

“I bet it does. Tell me this wasn’t learned from the baker.”

“No! Self taught.” He snorts, and soon you’re both nestled against the carriage, and you’re pulled onto his lap, moaning as your lips meet again and again, he pulls back for a breath, as do you. “I’m so glad she did not get to you.”

“She tried her best. And you?” He asks, fingertips brushing up the line of your jaw delicately.

“He tried his best as well. Apparently, he was not part of her scheme truly? He just desired me and also wanted amusement.”

“Of course he desires you. Who doesn’t? Have to fight off a King, my best friend and a goddamn baker.” You giggle, shaking your head at him, smacking kisses along his flushed cheeks.

“Not your friend truly!”

“Mmm, debatable. Everyone wants you, but I have you.”

“Everyone wants you, Satoru. And yet I have you.”

He cups your face. “All I even fucking see is you.”

“Satoru…” You’re kissing him again, desperately, he kisses you senseless, you feel it, the desire spreading even more, wanting to be claimed by him, as he desires to mark you his.

“You’re all mine, Princess, hmm?” Satoru murmurs, slipping up your skirts, fingers darting across your garters delicately, you cry out softly, head falling back, hair falling as he starts pressing his lips against your throat.

“All yours- mmm!” Your hands enwrap in his silky hair as the carriage gently rocks you both, you feel his hard length pressing against your heat. His tongue trailing a line up a vein he sees on your throat, all the way up to your ear, his breath tickling you as you roll your hips.

His hands press into your hips, thumbs against your pelvis, pulling you even harder on him, you feel your cunt soaking his trousers, bare under your skirts, he feels himself stiffening painfully, straining against them. His tongue darts to trace your earlobe, he makes that little whimper sound as you roll on him, feeling your cunt soaking through.

“No one can ever have you, no one can take you from me.” Duke Gojo’s words are husky, desperate, one finger finding your clit and rolling in circles, your eyelashes flutter as your hips arch, his other hand cups your face. “No one.”

You’re looking at his glittering blue eyes in the dark carriage, hands slipping across his broad shoulders over his tail coat, staring into eyes you love, you adore. “No one can ever have me. It’s only you, Satoru.”

He moans now, slamming his lips on yours, the kiss is desperate and messy, much like the two of you together. You’re not perfect, far from it, you’re both a mess, you’re both as insane as this desire that pulls you, that irrevocably ties you together, as insane as the hungry kiss is. Your tongues are dripping saliva, your lips are bruising, your hands are everywhere.

You can never get enough of him.

He can never get enough of you.

“That’s it, Princess, cum for me.” He orders softly, in that husky fucking voice, and he drinks your cries when you start gushing where he’s flicking your clit faster and faster, shaking your head. He scowls. “You disobey me, hmm brat?”

“Wanna cum with you in me.” You murmur, he groans then, hastily pulling back, you eagerly help him undo his belt, unbutton his trousers, his cock springing free, you press your thumb against the slit that’s oozing pretty pearls of precum. “You’re so pretty Satoru.”

“You’re pretty, Duchess. Especially riding my cock.” He slides his tip against you while you brace yourself on his shoulders, he watches your brows go together, your mouth open in a little O, watches your eyes dilate. “Fuck you’re so pretty when you’re cock thirsty.”

“Cock thirsty!? You… know… I… please!” He smirks now, the little shithead you’re more used to, but there is something so different now.

You both are so in love you cannot see or think of anything but being together, and fuck if tonight hadn’t made you both crave it more. You, craving him to fill you up, and him, craving to pump himself in you, to leave you so full of him there’s nothing but him. But there is nothing but Satoru to you, his eyes hungrily watching you, while he’s pecking kisses on your breasts.

You’re sinking down on him, the stretch burning so delicious, the carriage jostles you just a bit, and you sink further than you intended, earning your gasp and his groan, he bites at your breasts, hands sinking you fully now. You don’t ever take this much so quickly, your velvety walls are spasming around his cock as you try to loosen up, he can’t take how tight you are.

“Can’t hold back, Princess, you feel too good.” He murmurs, apologetically, you just roll your hips, eating up those snowy lashes fluttering.

“Then don’t hold back, Duke.” He moans at that, lifting your hips and pounding up into your cunt now, you’re crying out so loud in the dark night, while you all head home slowly over cobblestone streets, and he’s pumping you so full. “Toru!”

“Pussy is fuckin made for me, hmm?” He’s mumbling, nonsensical, fucking up into you so hard, you’re trembling as you take him, feeling his tip bruise your cervix, and you’re close, so close.

You just nod weakly as he watches you, his eyes dark and hungry, as he guides your hips to move in time with his thrusts. The slap of skin on skin echoes in the enclosed space, mixed with your soft cries and his deep moans. One of Satoru’s hands moves to your neck, his thumb resting gently on your pulse point, feeling the rapid beat as he squeezes gently.

“Look at me when you cum for me, Duchess. I want to see those beautiful eyes roll back in pleasure, just for me.” His voice is a low growl, a quiet demand, you struggle to focus, feeling the pressure coil in your tummy.

You lock eyes with him, feeling the connection between you grow stronger with each passing second, the passion and the love that abounds and grows every day, somehow even the dirtiest words that spill from his mouth are sweet. Pretty little slut is sweet to your ears, the squishing of your wetness on his cock is beautiful especially when your husband looks at you like this.

Your orgasm crashes over you like a wave then, spreading all over your body, your cries echoing loudly while one of his hands squeezes your throat, watching you fall apart all over him. Your walls are convulsing around his cock, you’re barely able to hold yourself up anymore.

“Mine, mine, mine.” He grunts with every thrust, releasing your throat now, you nod quickly, gasping for a greedy breath.

“Y-yours.” You whisper, he needs it, and you need this, after everything to know who you belong to, and who he belongs to.

The grip on your hips tightening, his beautiful eyes never leaving yours, when you feel him thickening, hear the catch in his breath, the crease between his brows, you know he’s close. You press his back against the velvet carriage seat, taking a breath and rocking up and down his length again, he lets you take control, watching you hungrily.

“God, fucking look at you.” You feel your cheeks heat up at his praise, as his hands press against your stays, the fabric marking your skin, as he watches you with a lidded gaze.

“W-want you to cum for me, Toru. Please.” Your plea earns his lips slamming on yours, and he pins you down fully on his entire length, groaning into your mouth as he finds his release.

His hot spurts of cum fill you, and his throbbing cock edges you again, you’re falling with him, hopelessly into him in the little carriage, arms wrapping around your waist as he keeps pumping his cum deeper. You feel tears falling on your cheeks, legs shaking as you ride him slower and slower, as he fucks you both through the aftershocks and you’re both trembling messes.

“How are you so sexy? What you do to me?” He murmurs now, you giggle a bit, breathless, he eases out of your sore cunt, your cum and his dripping out of your little hole and onto him.

“What you do to me. Having me act so wanton and scandalous.” You tease, he chuckles a bit, sighing and cupping your face with two hands.

“Do you know what I wish, Duchess?”

“What is it, Satoru?” You both adjust yourselves somewhat, he turns you so you are sideways in his lap, pressing kisses all over your face.

“That we could redo our wedding. That I could… fix it.” You hear the emotions in his throat, you sigh, nodding then. “That you didn’t hate that night, that you weren’t crying on the fucking floor.”

“Satoru we are so far past it-”

“It does not matter, I will hate myself for it forever.”

You take his hand, pressing a kiss on the back of his knuckles, feeling emotions capture your heart. “We need not think on it, I do not hold any resentment any longer in my heart.”

“I want to do it over. I want a true wedding, I want a honeymoon… I want so much more for you than I gave.” You feel his heart racing under your palm as it rests on his chest over his dress shirt. You watch the man you adore have to handle what he has done, and all you can do is try to reassure him you do not hold anything against him, but he has to live with it.

“Do not endlessly punish yourself, I want us to be happy.” He exhales, shaking his head, hand stroking your back gently.

“This will help me, please agree to it.”

“Agree to what exactly, Satoru? What do you need?”

“I want to marry you because we want to, not because we were forced to, even though lord knows I couldn’t be happier I am with you. I want it for us, and us only. I want to carry you over that threshold, in my fucking arms. I want to make love to you on our wedding night, and have you fall asleep in my bed, and wake you up licking and kissing every inch.” His voice gets more hoarse with every word, and your heart is racing, your chest rising and falling with each breath.

“Satoru…”

“No, Princess, I need this. I need you to feel desired and loved like you were supposed to, like I should have.” He swipes tears that fall down your cheeks, you feel like you’re spinning, like you’re dizzy, like you’re in a dream.

“We have it now, I feel your love now. I feel it burning for me, as I burn for you, I feel you everywhere.” He gulps, adam’s apple bobbing.

“I know you do, but I need to show you what I should have given you, fuck what you deserve. You deserved to be happy that night, looking so beautiful, so hopeful just for me to crush you.” You’re sobbing now, as the pain sinks in, it’s almost as if you cannot imagine Satoru did it.

“I want to pretend it did not happen.” He shakes his head.

“It did happen, I did those things. I need to right them, to do it all over, to take you far the fuck away from here, somewhere beautiful, fuck you on every surface and feed you and pamper you. Like the Princess you are to me.” His words make you dizzy, images flitting your mind.

“You already make me feel that way, I swear you do.” You murmur, he takes your hand then, thumbing the pearls of the ring on your delicate finger.

“I want to marry you again, it can be just us two. But I want it, and I need it, to take you away and give you everything, to make it special for you. You deserve that and more. Let me show you my love, please, marry me because you want to, because I want you to. Because I love you so deeply it kills me, because I cannot imagine a life without you.”

“Oh, Satoru!” You are a sobbing mess now, kissing him over and over, nodding and sniffling as he holds you to him, so tightly you cannot breathe, you’re nodding weakly, and he’s smiling against your lips then.

“Will you marry me, Duchess? Truly marry me this time?” He whispers, you feel it, the love and devotion humming through every inch of your body.

“I will marry you, Duke Gojo.” He kisses you deeply, and soon the carriage comes to a halt, but you all stay there, laughing through your tears, he’s brushing your hair back, sighing and shaking his head.

“I do not deserve you.” You shake your head.

“You do deserve me, you deserve love, you deserve it all. You are not who you were, and you know I loved you even then.” You say, his full lips turn up at the corners as he gazes at you lovingly.

“I was an ass.” You giggle a bit, breathless.

“You still are a bit.”

“Excuse me?” He raises a brow, you keep giggle. “I’ll have to punish you for that. Oh, you’re far too excited.”

You bite your lip, hugging him and burying your face against his neck. “When is this wedding, hmm?”

“I will set to plan something very soon, I also will have us go to my estate in Scotland.”

“I’ve never been!”

“No? It’s beautiful. I’ll make everything right this time, I swear it.” You lean back, looking into his glistening eyes, feeling his breaths against your lips.

“We do not have to do this, but I also would love to. I have wondered, how would a true wedding night have been? If you were… my first. I wish so badly that things did not happen as they did, but then… were they meant to?”

“I was never meant to be so cruel.” He says, and you feel his anguish.

“I say let us not look upon the past, perhaps a new wedding would be a way for a fresh start. I daresay I’m rather excited.”

“God I love you.” You’re soon in his arms, he’s carrying you inside, kissing you over and over, the staff including Nan is smiling at you all as he carries you up the winding stairs. “I could hold you forever.”

“I could stay in your arms forever.” Satoru soon has you in a bath, he’s gently washing your hair, fingers pressing against your scalp, earning your sigh of happiness as he does. “Satoru…”

“Hmm?”

“I never want this to end. Us, together, so happy. Promise me, promise me nothing will tear us apart again.” You whisper, emotions making you choke up, he frowns then, cupping your face, seeing the tears glimmering as the hot water gently runs over your skin.

“Why are you saying this? Are you… do you doubt me because…” You hear the worry in his voice.

“No, no. I do not doubt you but I fear things. I fear it will all be over, and I love you so much I’ll be left with nothing.” His sweet touches and kisses melt you, you feel the anxiety lessen bit by bit.

“Breathe, please.” He orders softly, you take a breath, nodding carefully. “I will never leave you, I will never make such foolish mistakes again, I will be with you until I take my last breath, do you understand?”

You sob softly as you both kiss, as you turn and straddle him, and the water is sloshing around you both, your hands dripping down as you cup his face, as you slide your fingers through his wet, silky locks. Staring into a face that you adore, his intense gaze and tight grip reassuring you as his words sink in.

Until your last breath.

“I will be with you until then, I will be with you after, there is no me without you anymore.” He places his hand on your beating heart, feeling it flutter just for him, looking at your perfect breasts rising and falling, glistening from the water, making him so hungry again for you.

When isn’t he?

Your words of love melt him, but he’s also a man, and a man that is helpless and hopelessly turned on by his pretty wife. “Keep looking at me like that and I’m putting more cum in you.” You gasp, earning his chuckle. “You like that idea, hmm?”

“I’m sore, you fiend.”

“Your stamina…”

“Oh fuck you!” He sighs, tilting his head back as you study his perfect features, so happy for once everything else is just a whisper. “I love you.”

“And I, you.”

One Week Later

The rays of sunlight flit in, you feel it, Satoru’s firm lips on your neck, his hand splaying your tummy, you whine out and arch your back, earning his groan. He presses you on your back then, kissing across your chest, down to your breasts, shifting your thin silk chemise down to lap at one of your sensitive nipples. You cry out at it, hands entwining in his hair.

“Oh, Satoru… mmm! They hurt.” He chuckles, nipping one, it hurts so much it feels good, then he’s turned his attention to the other, and you wince in slight pain again, they’re aching. “Ah!”

“Do they really hurt that badly? You’re not due for monthlies are you.” He keeps kissing down your body, slipping the chemise to reveal every little inch of you, as you gasp and arch your back.

“No, not for a week or so. It’s so strange… oh that feels so good, though, please…” You’re whining as he plays with them more, you could almost orgasm from just his touch on your nipples, cunt dripping wet. The silk moves gently across your skin, a whisper in the quiet morning.

The lights play on the planes of his face, the way his hair falls just so, the way his eyes lock on yours as he laps at your nipple again, in slow circles, one hand bracing himself as the other squishes a breast in his grip. It hurts again, you’re jerking just a bit at it, nipples pronounced and ready for him.

“Well I like this, you all sensitive.” He teases, grinning so sexy, you feel your cheeks heat up at it.

“You like to hurt me a bit, hmm?” You challenge, whispering, Satoru leans back down, sucking a peak into his mouth, harder, his cheeks hollowing as he does, you scream out at the sensation now, when his teeth press against your areola, and the sensations spread everywhere. “F-fuck, it h-hurts…”

“Good or bad, slutty Duchess?” He asks, going to your other peak, repeating the bite of his sharp teeth, making your tummy clench, you grind on his thigh eagerly. “Fuck feel how wet you are.”

You can’t speak, the pain and pleasure so blinding, he removes his mouth from where he’s sucked your nipple until it’s all puffy and glistening from his saliva, pressing his bare thigh up against you more. You’re dripping down his leg, clit so sensitive it rivals your nipples, he starts kissing lower now, your tummy, soft kisses at first then he’s biting you.

Across your ribs, the underside of your breasts, sucking and biting and lapping you up everywhere, making you a pathetic writhing mess for him. You’re so beautiful in the soft light of the morning, in his bed, covered in his marks, your eyes dilated in pleasure, lashes casting shadows on your precious face, a face he sees every time he shuts his eyes.

God he can’t wait to marry you, truly marry you.

He’s picturing doing this in Scotland now, perhaps on some rolling green hill, your legs spread and hair splayed on some plaid, fuck he’s so ready for it, he’s mostly got it planned out, he only hopes you’ll enjoy it, he hopes it’s something beautiful, like you deserve. He’s looking up at you as he glides your chemise down your body completely, leaving you bare for his eyes to feast on.

He drinks in every line and curve of your perfect body, your smooth skin that he presses his lips against, feeling every muscle tense as he kisses even lower, as his hands press into your hips. He inhales your sweet scent, teeth nibbling your inner thighs, enjoying the glittery bite marks he’s leaving like a trail.

Satoru gets down to your dripping wet lips of your pretty pussy, he teases his finger tip at your entrance, earning your little hole drooling all down his hand, he exhales at it. “I’ve barely touched her and she’s this wet?”

“Sensitive too.” You breathe out, every little breath of his makes you jerk, even his smirk against your thighs have you pouring out, honeyed arousal making your cunt glisten. “S-Satoru…”

“Need something, Princess?” He teases, smirking up at you, his blue eyes darkening when he presses a kiss against your clit, your body jerks as desire floods through you.

“Need you.” He moans, swiping his tongue up your slit, string of saliva and your slick dripping from his tongue, your hands enwrap in his silken white hair, crying out at the sensation. “Toru, need you in me.”

“In a minute, you taste so good. Fuck you’re dripping.” He huffs in wonder, looking at his fingers coated in you, rolling them together and then slipping two fingers in your soppy little cunt, the stretch and pressure so much you’re screaming now, as his fingers press on your spot. “That’s it, fucking feel you, s’wet for me, f-fuck.”

You hear it, his fingers playing you, you’re stupid wet it’s ridiculous, his free hand slips up to grip one of your breasts again, you’re arching up off the bed, whining out at how good it feels, his tongue swirling right along with his fingers pumping. It’s too much, you fall apart so easily for him, completely unraveling, as he drinks you up, slipping his fingers out.

You pulse around nothing when he sucks you off his fingers, white lashes fluttering, then he’s kissing you, you’re lapping your sweetness off him. In the quiet morning it’s you whining into his lips, when he flips you over, laying you on your tummy, prone over you now. You’re trembling as he wraps one hand around your throat, your eyes rolling back in your skull.

“S’good, T-Toru, ah!” Your head falls back, exposing more of your throat when his leaky tip is running his precum up and down your clit, you’re trembling as he holds you, his long fingers wrap around your throat fully.

“You love it, don’t you? Me choking your pretty neck.” He murmurs, you weakly nod, ass arching up enough to allow his tip to enter your cunt, bit by bit, sinking into your eager hole.

“I love it.” You whisper, he squeezes your throat tighter, breathy moan in your ear, fucking you so deep you feel him everywhere. “Ngh!”

You’re crying out as he begins fucking into you, one hand brutally squeezing your hip, the other, squeezing your throat, you’re fading so dizzy and weak for him, velvety walls fluttering around his length. Satoru feels you squeezing him like a fucking vise, you feel him so deep, in your tummy, everywhere. Satoru’s tip hits your cervix then, he rolls his hips, and you fall apart under him.

“Fucking feel you, god you’re so tight Princess.” Your answer is a whimper, cumming all over his length, dripping down on the sheets below. “So wet feel that cunt gripping me, f-fuck.”

Satoru’s voice is desperate, his hand squeezing even harder, your vision blackening and glitter sparkling your vision when he lets you go, turning your chin to him, lips slamming on yours. Your moans are drunk by him, he wraps an arm around your waist, dragging your hips back on his length again.

“Satoru!” You’re crying out his name, voice hoarse, he rolls his hips again, the ridge of his tip brushing on your spot, sending you fucking reeling again. Your cunt is so loud with how wet she is, skin smacking in the quiet of the morning.

“That’s it, lemme feel you, gonna fuck you s’good baby.” Satoru’s nipping on your ear, then your neck, bending over you, taking over your every sense. You gasp and cry out, while he picks up your hips, finger finding your clit and rolling. “There you go, slutty cunt pouring all over the bed, huh?”

“F-fuck you, Toru.” He chuckles before crying out, as you tighten your cunt up around him, laughing breathless when he whimpers. “Too tight?”

“Slutty brat.” He huffs, the words just urging you, when he’s flipped you to your back again, cock lining up with your entrance, shoving deep inside you again, you feel your body tingling fucking everywhere when you clamp down on him again, and he scowls at you. “Loosen up, fuck.”

“Hmm? Wh-what do you mean- ah!” Satoru sinks fully in, stuffing you so full, stretching you out while he squishes your breasts in his hand again, smiling fucking devious at you. “Ah! Fucking hurts!”

“Aw poor baby can’t take it?” He huffs, challenging you, your hips lift, and he uses the movement to pull almost all the way out.

“N-no!”

He grins, then thrusts inside to the hilt, your eyes roll back, and he’s grinning now, so smug. “So much for your talk, huh?”

You just whine, biting down on your lip, your body so sensitive now, the pleasure so intense you’re shaking, your nails digging into his shoulders, he snaps those slender hips forward, slapping his pelvis against yours, you feel it in your stomach, he’s fucking you so deep, feel him everywhere, inside you, around you. He moans and cups your face, bracing himself on his elbows.

“Gonna fuck your mind up, Duchess.” He huffs, eyes bright as his grin is psychotic, but it just makes you wetter, weaker for him. “All mine, every fucking bit of you, isn’t it?” You nod weakly, pussy aching already, but he’s clearly not done, not even close, fucking you into another orgasm that has you a mess.

“Y-yes, Toru. S’all yours.” Your words are slurred, when he’s easing back, tilting your mouth open, his saliva dripping in it. Your eyes cross as your tongue hangs out, opening for his spit, his drool, and you gasp when he slams his cock so deep, big hands pressing your thighs so far apart they ache.

Satoru wants to own you, every bit of you, looking down at the fucked out mess you are under him.

His perfect Duchess, his little princess has his spit in her open mouth, her dilated eyes keep crossing and rolling. He feels those walls clutching his cock, trying to milk him for everything he’s god, he has to pull back, gasping, he doesn’t want it to end yet, he needs his Princess a fucking mess.

Satoru pulls back, up on his knees, lifting your ass up to sink deep, your head pressing back into the pillows as you swallow his spit. “Can your pretty tits handle anything right now?”

“Th-they’re so s-sensitive- ah! B-but…. yes please.” He’s bent over you, his back arching up, tongue back on them, sucking them rough. Your hands sink into his skin on his back, nails pressing in, leaving marks while he slowly pumps into your cunt again and again.

“Perfect tits, fuckin perfect body.” You melt, blinking back tears, usually in the mornings it’s some lazy sex, him cuddling you, this is insane, this is after a fight sex, it’s after a night at the ball sex, that consuming mind fucking he’s doing, along with praising every bit of you. “Those eyes, fuck.”

“You’re t-too much.” You manage, he chuckles, breathless, stroking a tear from your cheek, easing his pace finally.

“Sore, baby?” He’s smirking, teasing you.

“It’s so much. So big.” He moans at that. “Too deep, so full.”

“Yeah so full of me?” You nod weakly, his hand presses on the bulge he’s making in your tummy, fucking slower and slower, it’s so intimate and feels so good, you feel your skin slick with sweat now, feel yourself falling off the edge of the earth, clinging to the man that makes you descend into madness.

“Full, so full. You’re everywhere Toru.” Your eyes both lock then, you stare into those blue swirling storms, his pupils blown out, as he hovers over you, your leg over his arm now, leaky tip prodding your cervix. Your sensitive breasts are heaving with every breath you take, small and shaky.

“You’re everywhere, every time I close my eyes, or open them, I want to fucking see your pretty face, pretty body.” You do cry then, it’s too much. You feel so emotional lately, especially when the man you love is working you, is cupping your face, at one moment rough and brutal, at another so slow and sweet.

“Cum in me, please, Toru.” You beg, your voice a breathy cry.

His brows furrow together, his snowy lashes lowering, he moans then, capturing your lips in another breathtaking kiss. “Only if you cum first, want your slutty cunt to milk me dry.”

You whine out, when he slips his hand down, your foot is pressed against his shoulder, his strong muscles rolling when he fucks you hard now, and just like that, you’re coming again, your cunt tightening around his cock, your body writhing underneath him as you let out strangled cries. You feel the tears pouring from pleasure and the overwhelming person that is Satoru Gojo.

“There she is, fuck. Good little Princess.” He cooes, but you hear it, his hitch in his breath, the catch in his voice, he pumps quickly then, chasing his release, and then practically cries out in his own whimper when he starts cumming, kissing your neck then biting you as he rolls his hips.

“Toru- f-fuck!” You whine out, in between sobs, when his cum is pumping up into your pussy, filling you so fucking full.

“Gonna put so many babies in you, huh?” You weakly nod, tears sticky and hot on your cheeks, when he cups your face, his cock throbbing. “You’ll look so fucking beautiful full with me.”

“Toru you’re fucking my head up and it’s the morning.” You whisper, he chuckles then, swiping tears from your cheeks. “Psychotic Duke.”

“Slutty Duchess. Mmm.” You’re pulsing around him, you’re both so sensitive, when he eases out you tremble at it, your cunt dripping his cum out, so deliciously fucking sore. He shoves two fingers in your sloppy cunt then, and watches you writhe and your eyes flutter shut.

“Sadistic ass Duke.” You whine out, he laughs softly, kissing your forehead sweetly like he’s not fingering his cum back inside you.

“No, I just want you to be full of cum for tonight. Think I’ll need to put a few more in before this dance we’re going to.” You exhale, shaking your head, when he pumps again, the squishy mess of your cunt utterly lewd.

“A few more!?” You demand, narrowing your eyes, he grins.

“There she is, my mean little Duchess. Fucking love that look.”

“The ‘I’ll kill you’ look?”

“Oh yes. Mmm, don’t you want a baby anyway? How will you have one if you waste all my seed like this? Tsk tsk.” Satoru shoves his fingers so deep, you’re pulsing around his fingers again, feeling him harden against your inner thigh, cock sticky and hot.

“S’not how it works, you just love torturing me. Ngh!” He smiles against your lips, kissing you over and over.

“I do love to abuse your pretty cunt, watch that gorgeous face as I drive you fucking crazy.”

“Sadistic.”

“You’re masochistic.”

“To be with you? Yes.”

He glares now, and you’re giggling. “You little fucking brat.”

“What- ah!” Satoru’s smacked your pussy now, your thighs tremble.

“And you like it, don’t you?”

“Fuck you. Yes.” He snorts once more, kissing you as he hits your spot again, when suddenly your tummy tenses too much, and you wince a bit at it. “Satoru… it really is too much.”

“Are you too weak?” He taunts, but your tummy really hurts suddenly, you shake your head and he pulls back. “Too much, Princess?”

“N-no. Something… I feel…” You exhale, trying to breathe.

“Is it your asthma? I’ll fetch a doctor.” He says softly, the concern clear in his voice and on his features.

“No, Toru not at all. It’s… my tummy.” You wince again, turning away from him and exhaling. “It’s so tense and I feel almost sick.”

“Did I do too much?” You shake your head again, he kisses your bare shoulders, hands gently running along your back. “I don’t want you sick for the wedding.”

“I won’t be, promise. We have a week. Um, could you tell Nan to make me something to eat maybe? I feel hungry and sick?” He frowns, then nods, pecking a kiss on your forehead.

“I’ll go have her make something for you.” You smile gratefully, you both clean up, then you sit up in the bed, as the wave of nausea passes, you shake your hands and try to exhale, to focus.

Soon Nan is in your room, with your coffee and some delectable muffins, they look mouth watering then. She looks at you with a small smile. “Is everything alright Duchess?”

“I believe so. I got a little queasy, oh these look so delectable!” You inhale the muffin and smell the sugar and blueberry.

“Your favorite, Duchess. Now, take a bite.” You are starving, and nauseous, it’s an odd combination, but the food is helping somehow, coating your tummy as you nibble more and more.

“Nan, could I ask you something personal?” You murmur, as you practically devour the muffin and reach for another.

“Of course, my love. You have quite an appetite, it’s so nice to see.” You flush a bit.

“I do seem to be ravenous, hmm?” You lick sugar off a finger, sipping on the coffee now.

“It’s part of being a newlywed. Which… you will be again I see.”

Marrying Satoru.

Truly marrying him.

Yes, you all are together, but this? You cannot wait.

“Indeed, I agree. But Nan… it’s personal.” You whisper, leaning close, Nan bobs her head, leaning in. “My nipples hurt so bad, my breasts ache. I am a little worried because I’m not due for monthlies. Have you ever felt this?”

She pauses then, smiling, shaking her head. “I should have guessed.”

“Guessed what, Nan?” You tilt your head curiously, and she shocks you then, touching your tummy over your blue silk wrapper you’re wearing.

“You’re glowing, you have an appetite, your… ahem…” She eyes your bosoms, fuller than usual you notice. “They hurt. That’s all signs of being with child.”

You falter then, gasping, putting your hand on hers over your tummy. “W-with child? I… are you sure?”

Satoru walks in then, grinning at you both, before he sees her hand on your tummy, his eyes dart back and forth, where Nan is touching you. He gulps then, shaking his head, lips opening then closing, just to repeat the action, lashes blinking rapidly, as if he’s putting it all together.

You turn to him, taking his hand now. “Satoru, it's just a guess, we do not surely know yet… but…”

His mouth opens and closes once more, his eyelids lowered as they stare at where your tummy is, reaching out and touching it now, placing a hand over you. “Are you…”

You nod just a bit, feeling the swelling of happiness, along with some apprehension for how Satoru would feel. Was it just talk? Would this be too much for him? You all are just starting to have this uninterrupted bliss, this perfect morning, and though you want this so badly, you want him ready.

“Are you…” He keeps trailing off, stepping closer now, Nan watches you both with a little smile. “Pregnant?”

A/N- This is very smushy and happy, yes I know this was angst but I write Happy Ever After stories only. I am working on Nanami's side story if you wish to be tagged in that plz lmk! Tysm for those who still read this, I know it's going LONG and it's a lot. I love you all bc this has become my favorite project I've written so far!

TagList: @kalopsia-flaneur @bunheadusa @7thsthings @disilluzions @antisocialinlw @Sukunassfinger @lelsforlino @heeknow @muvasuperior @prince-wyiilder @lavender-hvze @ssetsuka @labelt-san @sadmonke @philiatothephobia @ambiguouslady42 @stromynight @dreamygirli3 @jjknanamin @jazlenekasi @victoriaaaa00 @wuvnada @nanasukii28 @sw3etnena @dark-agate @tamaki-simp @yuuuumii @givluv2tyy @airandyeah @sw3etnena @webshooterrr9 @miizuzu @thikcems @erensblackwife @murayamayoshiki-lovergurl @blue-musingss @huuuhwhaat @valleydoli @makingtimemine @saccharinesatoru @sunnyviewsblog @nanananananaiknow

#duke gojo #gojo x reader #jjk smut #gojo smut #gojo angst #jjk angst #jjk x reader #satoru x reader #jujustu kaisen #jjk gojo #satoru gojo x y/n #satoru gojo x you #satoru gojo x reader #arranged marriage #royalty au #gojo x reader smut #gojo x you #gojo x y/n

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lowkeyerror · 2 days ago

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Help With The Curriculum Pt 4

Agatha x Rio x Reader

Word count: 4.2k

Notes: Smut, choking, fingering, cunnulingus, daddy!kink, mommy!kink, dacryphilia, dirty talk, edging, mentions of overstimulation, begging degradation, praise

Summary: Rio gets herself a chance with you and Agatha. The only caveat is that she has to follow instructions and even then, she might not get a reward.

An: The Ao3 curse hit me, but part 4 (potentially last part) is here, hope you like it.

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“Y/n, wake up.”

You groan, snuggling further into Agatha’s warmth. She chuckles a bit, scratching the top of your head.

“Baby, you have to let me get up. I have to go home.”

That only causes you to hold her tighter, “No.”

She sighs, “I have class later, I have to go home to change.”

“Wear mine,” you mumble against her collarbone.

“You’d love seeing me in your clothes, wouldn’t you?”

You pull away from her and wipe your eyes, “What time is it?”

“6 am.”

You shake your head, “We’re college professors, 6am is high school teacher hours Agatha.”

“Well, I need time to go home and get ready. Someone didn’t want to let me go last night,” she gets up, causing you to sit up right in your bed.

“It was late, and besides your legs could’ve given out on the way over,” you tease her.

Agatha rolls her eyes, “Funny, I’ll see you on campus.”

“Wait,” you get out of bed clumsily, she laughs at your movements. “Let me walk you out.”

“Adorable.”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever,” you lead her to your front door.

“I have a gap around 2, if you want to do lunch?” She suggests and you nod.

“I’d like that,” you smile at her.

“Text me your order, I’ll pick it up,” she says and for a moment it feels like you’re both prolonging the goodbye.

You kiss her sweetly, not really wanting to stop, “You need to go before I take you back to my bedroom.”

You push her lightly out of the door. She starts walking to her car, but she turns back half way just to blow you a kiss. A small chuckle escapes you before you shoo her away with one last movement of your hand. You wait for her to drive off before going back inside your home.

Since you were awake so early you decided to make breakfast and get ready for work. By the time you were dressed and finished eating it was time for you to go.

Today was the day of the exam, so it was going to be relatively easy for you. You arrive to your classroom a bit early to make sure everything is set for the exam.

“Exam days always seem to drag on forever,” you lift your head at the sound of her voice.

“Professor Vidal, what do you want?” Your voice is dry when you speak to her.

“Think I made that quite obvious yesterday,” she stalks her way over to your desk.

“And why would I reward such a brat?”

She puts her hands behind her back and tilts her head. Her eyes get big and glossy, “But I’m a good girl.”

You could see why Agatha would easily cave in to the woman. She is hot; her body is damn near perfect and her beauty is undeniable.

“No you aren't, because here you are begging me like a needy slut. When we both know you should be talking to Agatha, instead,” you give her a pointed look.

“She doesn't want me anymore,” you hear a vulnerability that you aren't sure she meant to convey.

“Who said that?”

Rio frowns, “She did, literally yesterday. She told me to move on.”

You sigh taking a bit of pity on the woman, “Listen Rio, your problem is that you push too far. Agatha can't handle you being a brat all of the time. I don't think she wanted to end things with you, but if you're never going to listen to her, what's the point?”

“And you listen to her?”

You nod, “Of course, I listen to her, she listens to me.”

Rio focuses on the ground, “She listens to you. She never let me- I wanted to be in control sometimes.”

You cross your arms leaning back against the chair, “Sounds like a reward. I wonder if you could earn it, somehow?”

It's Rio’s turn to sigh, “I need to talk to her, don't I?”

You nod, “I think it’d benefit you.”

She groans, but make her way towards the exit, “You know, I'm not all bad Professor L/n.”

“I know, but you have some lessons to learn. Hopefully rewards to gain, Professor Vidal.”

When she leaves your eyes linger where she stood. It felt like she was the embodiment of temptation. You could imagine what she looked like bare, her look playful, and eager. You’re sure that her neediness clouded any sense of obedience in her body.

When the class piled in you gave them the exam instructions. While they were testing, you let your mind wander to what you could do with Rio. How you could help Agatha tame her.

You were thinking about it until it was time for lunch. Agatha said she would meet you in your classroom.

“What did you say to her?”

Agatha sits the food on your desk.

You shrug, “I told her she needed to talk to you, why?”

Agatha begins to take out the food, “She apologized for being such a brat all the time, said that what we had was important to her, and that she didn’t want to lose it.”

“And what did you say?”

Agatha sighs, “I told her that I wanted to believe her.”

“But…”

“But she would have to prove that she could be good.”

You take a sip of your drink, “And how should she do that?”

Agatha’s eyes met yours, “I was hoping you had some ideas.”

You smirk, “I’ve been brain storming since she left my classroom. I was thinking, maybe we could put on a little show for her, but the rules prohibit her from touching. If she lasts, she can have a reward, but if she can’t… we can give her a very memorable punishment. Thinking either edging or overstimulation. Depends on her attitude.”

Agatha levels with you, “I doubt she can hold out. I mean I doubt that I could if I was watching us fuck.”

You lean back in your chair, “This test isn't about her obedience, it’s about her willpower. I want to see how quickly she cracks, if she’s remorseful, or if she’s going to be disrespectful. If she meant what she said to you, she will try her hardest. Tell her to meet us Saturday at your place. I assume she knows where you live.”

Agatha snickers, “Why do I hear some jealousy in that last part?”

“I told you, I’m not fond of sharing. Don’t worry though, I plan to work through that when Rio’s watching me make you all desperate. I know what she wants from you Aggie, and I’m going to show her how much you love when I give it to you,” your jaw twitches slightly.

“I’m looking forward to it,” she begins to eat her food.

The days seem to pass slowly as anticipation builds inside of you. You’re excited but you don’t necessarily know if that’s appropriate. In truth you wouldn’t describe yourself as a naturally dominant person but something about being with Agatha and something about the thought of being with Rio really made you want to take control.

With Agatha there was much more of a give and take nature to your encounters. Sometimes you would be in control and sometimes you’d crumble under her gaze. However, with Rio’s needy eyes on you, you didn't know if it would be appropriate to crumble.

This time would be somewhat of an example for any times that would occur in the future. It was like you were setting a precedent for how things would unfold and whatever kind of relationship you decided to pursue. There was a lot of confliction inside of you the moment he saw her you did want to put her in her place. You were serious when you said you weren’t sharing but now you didn't know if that was true.

Was it really sharing if you had decided you wanted both?

“I can feel you thinking from here,” Agatha’s hand cups your face.

You’re both in her bedroom waiting for Rio to arrive. You let out a relaxed sigh as her thumb starts to caress your face.

“It feels silly, but I think I’m nervous. I’ve never done anything like this before. I know I was talking a big game, and that was real. I want this, I just don't want to fuck this up,” you admit.

“You’re adorable,” she says.

You whine, “Agatha.”

“Baby it’s not just you in here, I'm here too. I doubt you’ll struggle to preform because you haven't before this. In the case that you do, I’ll be here to get us back on track. Trust me?”

You nod and lean in to peck her lips, “I trust you.”

The doorbell rings breaking the endearing moment. You want to rush to the door but a gentle tug from Agatha has you walking at a slower pace.

“Compose yourself,” she whispers to you before opening the door.

Rio stands on Agatha’s porch in a short sundress. The nerves on her face are present, but she tampers them with a smile.

“Looks a little different than last time I was here,” Rio says peering into the house.

“You know I get bored with décor quickly,” Agatha says stepping aside to let her in.

“And how different is the bedroom?” Rio says slyly.

You speak up, “You should see for yourself.”

Rio hums at your words, making her way towards the bedroom. Agatha and yourself follow her side by side. When you’re all in the room, you’re the one to close the door.

There’s a tension in the air, anticipation of what will happen.

“So…”

“Sit in that chair,” you command Rio, before she can further speak.

She complies, sitting in the chair in the corner of the room. You keep your eyes on her, “Good listening, today we’re going to see how long you can keep it up for. You’re going to sit here and watch while Agatha and I fuck. You aren't going to touch yourself at any point.”

Rio’s eyes darken, “And what do I get for sitting here?”

You tilt your head to the side, “Why would you get anything? This isn’t a reward, this is your case to Agatha that you can be a good girl, and follow simple instructions without being a brat.”

“I can be good.”

You grip her chin so she looks into your eyes, “I hope so because I think it would be fun to play with you.”

You kiss her cheek before turning your back to her and heading towards Agatha. You stand in front of her, eyes locked on each other. Your hands find the bottom of her shirt. You raise it slowly giving her a chance to stop you.

She doesn’t, when her shirts off your hands trail up her soft skin. You let out a shaky breath, trying to control your impulses. Your head dips down so that your tongue could swirl around one of her nipples. The other nipple was occupied in between your fingers.

Periodically you look up to take in the details of Agatha’s face. The light moans and delicate tensions on her face are not enough for you. You want more, you start to use your teeth and soon her breathy moans become more fleshed out.

Agatha couldn’t take any more of the teasing, she pulls your face up so that your lips meet. It’s hungry, and you swear her lips get softer every time you kiss them. You moan as she sucks on your bottom lip.

You hear a whimper in the corner of the room and you break from the kiss. Rio looks like she has a sweat building up on her forehead. You pull your shirt from over your head and see her eyes widen as she takes in your body.

You don’t miss the way her hands grip the chair. Agatha hugs you from behind, her hand traveling down your body with no hesitation in sight. You moan, keeping eye contact with Rio as Agatha’s hand disappears into your pants.

“You’re so wet for me baby,” she trails kisses up your neck.

“I need you,” you say bucking into her hand.

She guides you so that your back hits the wall. In a swift movement your pants are down and Agatha is on her knees. She spreads your legs and your breathing speeds up a bit.

You grab a handful of her hair and laugh lightly, “Isn’t this familiar?”

She chuckles the same, “Not until you start moaning professor.”

Her hands rest on your thigh as her tongue swipes through your folds. Your grip on her hair tightens, as her pace increases. She hums in satisfaction, not caring about how far her face is buried into your cunt.

“How you doing over there Vidal?” You manage to glance at her and she looks in utter discomfort. She doesn’t answer, “I asked you something.”

“S-soaked,” she grits out.

“Fuck, Aggie were you starving or something?” You feel your legs begin to shake a little from the intensity of her movements.

She pulls away, “You just taste so good.”

“Should we give her something?” You nod your head towards Rio.

Agatha nods, “Whatever your thinking, I’m in.”

Rio sighs believing that the challenge is over and that she’s won a reward. You smile sweetly at her, “Strip.”

Her clothes are gone in under a minute and she stands eagerly.

“Ok sit back down, you were a little uncomfortable in the clothes,” you speak dismissively before returning your attention to Agatha.

“You want to taste yourself?”

You nod, “And I need those fingers inside of me professor.”

“Suck,” Agatha pushes two fingers into your mouth.

You obey her and as soon as her fingers leave your mouth her lips are on yours again. As your kiss echoes in the room, she slides fingers into you.

You gasp in pleasures as she quickly begins to pump in and out of you. Her thumb finds your clit and you can barely keep up with the kiss. Your head falls onto her shoulder.

“You like when I burry my fingers in you, baby? The way my thumb presses down on your clit? Fuck, I can feel you clenching against me. You going to cum on my fingers that fast? God you’re needy today, or is it cause Rio’s watching? You want her to see how I make you cum.”

You lift your head from her shoulder just enough to look at Rio, “I want her t-to see what she can’t have.”

With her now naked you can see every little twitch her body makes. The look of anger on her face only makes you cum harder. Agatha fucks you through it, and as soon as she pulls her fingers out of you, you’re guiding her towards the bed.

You sit with your back against the headboard and Agatha sits in between your legs.

“Open for me baby,” she follows your instructions opening her legs.

One of your arms secure around her waist while the other rubs small circles around her clit. You give Rio a perfect view of Agatha’s dripping cunt.

“You ever have her like this Rio?”

Your fingers glide through Agatha’s folds in a teasing manner.

Rio shook her head, “N-no.”

You chuckle deeply as you plunge two fingers into her, “Oh Aggie, that's so mean of you. Never opened up for your little plaything?”

“Never earned it,” Agatha says breathlessly.

You can see Rio fix her mouth to say something, but she holds back.

“Speak up bunny, I want to know what's on your mind. You think you deserved something like this?”

Your fingers work faster, intoxicated by the sounds of Agatha’s hungry wet hole.

Rio begins to shake in her spot, “I wanted it so bad.”

“Wanted what?”

Her head drops, “To fuck Agatha. To have her whimpering because of me, to give her so much pleasure that she'd be drunk on it. Maybe, maybe I didn't earn it. Hell, I doubt that I deserved it, but I wanted it. She deserved to be worshiped and I thought that would've been enough.”

You can feel Agatha’s breathing quicken at the words, “If you can't handle instructions, you couldn't handle fucking me.”

Your thumb presses against her clit and she throws her head back. You begin sucking harshly on her neck as it becomes more accessible.

You lick a long stripe along her neck sparing a glance at Rio, “Beg for it Rio.”

She’s quick to fall to her knees unceremoniously. Her legs are shaking and you can see her arousal glistening down them. Her eyes are large and filled with tears.

Her voice is hoarse with need as she speaks, “Please, please. I-I can’t watch anymore, I need to- please. Tell me to do something, I’ll do it. I-I can be good. I can listen. I’ll do anything.”

You can feel Agatha clenching around your fingers as she watches Rio beg.

“More,” Agatha growls at Rio.

“Mommy please, I’m sorry. I should’ve listened. I shouldn’t have been so bratty. I was bad, but not anymore. Please, touch me. Let me touch you. Anything, please,” Rio cries fully now.

Agatha begins to rock her hips against your fingers, “Ask Y/n.”

“Daddy please, I’m sorry for being such a slut in your classroom. I need you, I’ll do better, I’ll be better. You don’t have to share, you can own me. Please, please, please.”

Agatha’s body jerks forward as she cums. Your arm around her waist is the only thing keeping her grounded. You slow your fingers, waiting for her to ride out her orgasm before removing them from her cunt. They find their way into her mouth and she sucks them delicately.

“Come here,” you murmur to Rio.

She stands, quickly walking over to you. You unhook your arm from around Agatha, using that hand to lightly grip Rio’s jaw. She nearly flinches in anticipation from your grasp.

You swipe at her tears with your thumb. Slowly you pull her face towards you while craning your neck up to her. You kiss her and it’s a fragile thing. You can feel her holding back. Trying to restrain herself, from taking more than you’re willing to give.

She whimpers into your mouth and her legs begin trembling even more than before. Your eyes widen and you break the kiss.

“Did you just cum?”

Rio’s face tints red with embarrassment, “I-I-"

Agatha intervenes lifting Rio before tossing her gently on the bed, “God, you’re so beautifully pathetic when you listen.”

“I want to taste her, she wants to taste you. I think we can all be winners here,” you look at the tanned woman in a predatory manner.

“Can you handle it baby? You couldn’t even manage a simple kiss, without making a mess of yourself,” Agatha questions her.

“Please, sit on my face mommy,” she pants out.

You decide to give Rio some relief, “Don’t hold back, but I’m telling you right now, I’m not stopping until Agatha cums again. So if you cum before her, we’re going to keep going, understand?”

She nods the best she can, “I understand.”

Agatha grabs Rio’s wrists, holding them above her. The older woman straddles Rio’s head, not loosening her tight hold on the submissive’s wrists.

“You know the signal if it’s too much,” Agatha speaks tenderly.

Again Rio nods the best she can.

That’s the only sign Agatha needs before fully sitting on the woman’s face.

Rio’s legs open for you with the sound of her sticky cunt echoing in your mind. She is absolutely drenched, you can see her clit twitching in anticipation. You can tell she’s sensitive, but you can’t help yourself.

Without hesitation you got straight to sucking her clit. Her back arches off of the bed, and you have to hold her legs in place. You can hear the low groan she let slip into Agatha, causing the other woman to grind down on Rio’s face.

Every calculated thought or worry that you previously had leaves your head as her taste seeps into your brain. All you want to do is make her cum. You eat her sloppily, not holding anything back. You can feel your jaw growing tired from how obsessively you’re eating her out.

You assume she’s doing the same to Agatha as the woman with the unoccupied mouth has not stopped making sounds since Rio’s face has been in her pussy.

When you finally detach your mouth from the woman, you stay close to her cunt. Letting your breath fan over her as you try to form any type of coherent thought.

“I understand why Agatha let you be a brat for so long. Your taste is so intoxicating baby, I just want to drown in it,” you say as you slide your middle finger into her.

You feel her cum instantly at the sensation and it makes your eyes roll back.

“You close professor?” You ask Agatha who only answers by nodding vigorously. “You’re going to give me one more then Rio.”

Feeling your own orgasm build, you began to feel needier. You want to feel Rio against you. So you change your position so that your cunt is aligned with hers. You hold one of her legs up and begin to grind against her.

The feeling of her hot sticky cunt rubbing against yours is bliss. You could feel her hips bucking into yours and it made you smile sadistically.

“Feels so good when you fuck yourself against me like that baby. Make us cum, like you begged for. Show us how desperate you are. Suck her clit, swirl your tongue around it, graze it with your teeth. Make her cum in your mouth, like the good girl you are. Don’t stop meeting my hips either, want you to show me you can multitask.”

Your words send Rio into a frenzy. She begins to speed up her movements, even though her body is fatigued. She works hard to send you both over the edge and she does.

Agatha cums first her hands abandoning Rio’s wrists to grab a fistful of her hair instead. She removes herself from atop of Rio only to meet the woman in a sloppy kiss. Rio doesn’t stop grinding against you even when fresh tears prick her eyes.

“Make daddy cum, baby,” Agatha kisses the top of Rio’s forehead moving stray hairs off of her face.

You fall apart at the same time Rio does, nearly collapsing against her. Agatha’s arms hold you up so you don’t flatten the woman beneath you. You can feel her squirt dripping down your abdomen, which sends a strong aftershock down your entire body.

“Fuck,” you say rubbing your hand against the mess she made on you.

“I’m sorry,” she whispers, exhaustion hitting her like a truck.

You shake your head, “You’re perfect.”

Rio blushes and then cover her face with her hands.

Agatha laughs softly at her behavior, “Underneath all that bratty attitude, is one of the softest girls in the world.”

“You’re just a sweetheart trying uphold some bad boy image aren’t you,” you run your hand through Rio’s hair.

She leans into your touch, “I’m a badass.”

You indulge her for a moment, “For sure. I know plenty of badasses who beg mommy and daddy to fuck them.”

She shoots back at you, “Whatever you say miss ‘I don’t share’.”

Agatha intervenes, “As much as this bickering turns me on. I’d say it’s time to clean up, because I’m going to have to wash these sheets before sleeping tonight.”

“So now what?” You prompt.

“Aggie?” Rio’s voice holds a vulnerability to it, “Can I stay?”

Agatha looks at you, a small uncertainty passes through her.

“Let her stay, the brat is growing on me,” you say, smiling down at Rio.

“She tends to have that effect on people,” Agatha also gives her a small smile.

“We usually just eat and watch tv after the mind blowing sex, so don’t expect too much excitement Vidal,” you say, getting out of the bed.

Agatha follows suit and Rio just sits up.

“I’d offer to cook, but I don’t think I can stand right now,” she laughs.

“Do not worry professor, we’ll help get you all cleaned up,” you send her a cheeky wink, before scooping her up in your arms.

She yelps in surprise, but wraps her arms around your neck so she doesn’t fall.

“Well aren’t you charming?”

You smile, “So I’ve been told.”

True to your words, the three of you clean up. It’s a group effort as you shower, Rio seriously having trouble standing up right. Agatha lends you both some comfy clothes to lounge in and you find yourselves on her couch eating takeout and watching Glee (your request).

“So she sent that girl to a crack house?” Agatha questions.

“It’s inactive,” you and Rio say at the same time.

“You two might just be too similar,” Agatha chuckles.

You and Rio share a look.

“Good taste,” you say at the same time.

Agatha rolls her eyes, “A few hours together and she’s already corrupting you, Y/n.”

“I actually think you might be the biggest brat here Agatha. Lying about needing help with the curriculum just so I’d fuck you silly… pretty brat like behavior,” you retort.

Now it’s Agatha that is blushing and Rio who is cackling.

You smile innocently, taking in the moment. Though it’s unconventional, this is something that you hoped you wouldn’t lose. Moments like these that transcended the bedroom always put it into perspective for you. You wanted to build something with these women. Unbeknownst to you they both wanted that very same thing.

#lowkeyerror #agatha x reader #agatha harkness x rio vidal #agatha harkness imagine #agatha harkness x reader #agatha harkness x rio vidal x reader #rio vidal x reader

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vi-steponmeplease · 21 hours ago

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BODY DYSMORPHIA

REQUEST: billie being rrly worried about r eating problems?

a/n: before we get into the fic, i just want to remind everyone that your struggles are valid. i understand where you're coming from and i promise you, you're perfect just as you are, inside and out. you don't need to be slim to be beautiful. that's just society's and men's messed up standards. this is just one of many serious & important topics and i want you to know that my messages are always open if you need to vent, talk, or simply have someone listen.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

pairings - concernedgf!billie x insecure!reader

genre - angst, fluff, suggestive

synopsis: struggling with body image and online criticism, you find comfort as billie lovingly supports you and helps you confront your insecurities with understanding and care.

tw: heavy mentions of body dysmorphia & an eating disorder.

word count: 1.1K

you don't have to change you're perfect the way you are

⟡

she's a pretty girl without the filter she looks beautiful with no makeup on

⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆

"How about In-N-Out?"

Wide grins spread across everyone's faces as they nod in agreement, then turn to you, waiting for your response. Your gaze shifts to Finneas in the driver’s seat, then to Claudia in the passenger seat, before skimming over Alex and Zoe on your right, and finally landing on Billie—your girlfriend—seated to your left.

"Oh, uh, I'll actually just skip. I already ate, so I'm full," you say with a casual shrug.

"You sure you don't want something for later?" Billie asks, a soft chuckle escaping her lips as she lightly squeezes your knee. "I know you. You always say you're not hungry, then an hour later, you're begging me to get you something to eat."

You force a smile, shaking your head. "I'm sure."

During the drive to the fast-food joint, you pull out your phone, your lips pressing into a tight frown as you scroll through the comments left by Billie’s fans on her most recent post—some cruel and cutting, others trying to defend you.

quenxbillie4life: what an ugly fatass bitch prob js a gold digger ↳ ronniel0vesbils: do u even KNOW billie? she's struggled sm with body image. have u heard not my responsibility? u have no right to say that abt her gf.

billieeilishnoticeme69: BIG BACK BIG BACK BIG BACK

billybiggestfan: elephants don't deserve to date global stars like billy ↳ ronniel0vesbils: lmao didn't even spell her name right u fake fan😭

billiespitonme: @ronniel0vesbils is legit fighting for her life out here LMFAO

The harsh words sting, and though the supportive replies are there, they feel drowned out by the negativity. You glance out the car window, trying to shake the ache in your chest, but the comments linger like a shadow.

You try to conceal your exhaustion, but it’s hard to ignore the countless nights spent sobbing, curled up with your knees to your chest, rocking back and forth as you desperately pray to wake up with a model’s body the next day.

But it never happens. And each passing day only deepens the growing hatred you feel toward yourself.

Why would Billie ever choose someone like you?

She’s one of the most ethereal-looking women on the planet, effortlessly breathtaking in a way that leaves you in awe. She never seems to have a bad moment, always stunning. Yet somehow, out of everyone, she chose you.

You sit silently, watching everyone enjoy their burgers and sip on their drinks, all the while wishing the ground would open up and swallow you whole. Deep down, you’ve convinced yourself that you’re not even worthy of a good meal—that starving yourself is just the price you have to pay to lose weight.

Your eyes drop to your hands resting in your lap, fingers fidgeting with your nails as a quiet sigh escapes. Slumping further into the seat, you tune out the lively conversations and laughter of your friends, letting the background noise blur into nothingness.

"You okay, baby?"

The gentle voice snaps you out of your thoughts. You hear the jingle of keys being tossed onto the coffee table, followed by soft footsteps padding across the wooden floor. Billie appears in the doorway, leaning against the frame with concern etched across her face. "You were acting a little weird today."

You glance away, offering only a small nod in response, but Billie isn’t convinced. She crosses the room and sits beside you, the mattress dipping under her weight as she exhales softly. Her ring-clad hand comes to rest lightly on your knee.

"You sure?" she presses, her voice tender. "You usually never say no to burgers."

A bitter chuckle slips out before you can stop it, the comment twisting into an unintentional jab at yourself. Are you really such a glutton that even Billie notices the sudden change? The thought stings.

"Yeah," you mutter, your tone tinged with self-deprecation. "That just might be the issue." You roll your eyes at your typical eating habits, the words dripping with sarcasm and frustration.

Billie’s brows knit together, a faint crease forming on her forehead as she shifts closer, tilting her head thoughtfully. “Ah,” she murmurs, her lips pressing into a thin line. “I get it, love. I know how you feel—I’ve been through it.”

Her hand moves up to your arm, fingers tracing gentle, soothing patterns across your skin. “I want you to know I’m here for you. Always. You’re not alone in this, and you never will be.” Her voice is soft but firm, her words wrapping around you like a warm embrace.

“Anything you ever want to tell me, I’m listening. And,” she adds, a small, playful smile tugging at the corner of her mouth, “you can’t be stressing your pretty little head about all this without me being involved, got it?”

Your lips curl into a soft smile, but the harsh, critical thoughts about your appearance still linger, refusing to be silenced.

Billie notices the unease in your expression. Her hand gives your arm a gentle squeeze before she guides you down onto the bed, your back pressing against the sheets and your head cradled by a pillow.

For a moment, your mind races. Really? Sex? Does she think a distraction like this will actually help right now?

Still, you push the thought aside, watching as Billie moves with quiet determination. Her fingers deftly unbutton your jeans, sliding them down your legs and tossing them onto the floor. She shifts her focus to your torso, carefully slipping your shirt over your head, leaving you in just your bra and underwear.

Instinctively, your hands fly to your stomach, trying to cover yourself. Even though Billie has seen you naked countless times, the habit of hiding feels ingrained—an automatic response to the insecurities clawing at you.

Billie is quick to pin your hands gently to your sides, her soft yet firm grip keeping them in place. Her lips brush against your jaw, leaving a trail of warmth as she moves down to your neck, collarbone, and then licks a slow, deliberate stripe down the valley of your breasts.

"Pretty fucking girl," she murmurs, her voice low and filled with adoration. A quiet groan escapes her lips as she shifts lower, her hands gliding across your skin, mapping every inch and curve with reverent care.

"I love you," she says, her words muffled as she presses her lips tenderly against your belly button. "So fucking much, angel. You’re perfect."

Her hands drift to your thighs, squeezing them gently before she peppers a trail of featherlight kisses along their length. “I love every curve, every inch of this gorgeous body,” she whispers, her tone steady and unwavering, as if daring your insecurities to challenge her conviction.

"And that's never, ever going to change."

#Spotify #billie eilish #billie eilish x you #billie eilish fluff #billie eilish angst #billie eilish x fem reader #billie eilish x y/n #billie eilish fic #billie x reader #lesbian #billie eilish fanfiction #hit me hard and soft #billie eilish x reader

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somerandomcockroach · 2 days ago

Text

PLEASE WHEEEEEEEEZEEEEEEE

*DYING BIRD SOUNDS*

YES. YES IT'S SWERVE GODDAM I CAN DIE PEACEFULLY

I am dead. I am so dead.

I LITERALLY CAN'T EXPLAIN THE LEVELS OF JOY THIS WHOLE THING IS GIVING ME RIGHT NOW

YES. YES THIS NERD IS VERY GOOD AT IT PRAISE HIM Had a whole new full life on the other planet - "I got carried away"

PLEASE HE RIGHT AWAY KNEW WHAT TO ASK PFFFHT. Get all transformers to pass exams. I bet 60/40 not pass

WHEEEEEEEEEZEEEE OH MY GOD I LITERALLY. THEY. IT'S. THEY WORTH EACH OTHER WHEEEEZEEE

PLEASE SWERVE. TRUE HUMAN IS HORRIFIED AT THE IDEA OF THEIR BROWSER HISTORY, YOU PASSED THE TEST PFFHTTT .... OF COURSE AHHASGAH UM. HE IS ALIVE! I'M HAPPY HE IS AT LEAST ALIVE! *Nods* Onslaught is a genius indeed AH here comes plot

I continues reaching new levels of dead

Please it's.... how the hell... why... he almost burned to death, he needs a rest or at least to properly look after his skin... not this....

*looks in the distance* Pilots need a fricking tiktok or whatever to show their life to become a new group face

*inhale-exhale* THIS GUY OVER HERE ISN'T A SPOILER BRAT AT ALL. AT ALL. I DON'T KNOW FROM WHICH SIDE SPOILED BRAT WOULD DO IT ALL.

*Looks at Jazz* You need to talk Next phrase is him talking to Prowl and Jazz *Sitting back*

*incoherent sounds*

*EVEN WORSE INCOHERENT SOUNDS*

*goes out of the room*IT'S TOO GORGEOUS TO NOT POINT IT OUT BUT ALSO SO HORRIBLE Blurr... my sweet... ahh I love people under painkillers but I have a feeling the same would happen anyway pfffht. Imagine all of problems and now the thoughts of someone dying because of you ahah... great.... P[OFPGOFPIGOIPSEIES JAZZ YOU ARE TOO FRICKING GOOD AT READING PEOPLE, I'm sure he didn't change the mind about Swerve's reason of absence XDDD

DANG IT. DANG. DANGG. FEHJGEDWJHGBJMCW I'M 'BOUT TO PULL YOUR "GHOST" ASS IN FRONT OF HIS FACE FOREVER BEFORE HE ACCIDENTALLY DIES OR SOMETHING. FOR THE GOD'S SAKE *ROLLS ON THE FLOOR FLORRS WALLS LIKE A ROTATED 980 DEGREE SPIDER* HE SAVES HIM, HE GOT OUT TO SAVE HIM HERE. TAKE IT. TALK HIM DOWN. SHOW WHO IS THE TALKY BOSS HERE WITH THE LIBRARY OF A NERD

HMEWDBNBMCHMNBCHMHMHDSHSSHS *SLAMS ON THE KEYBOARD WITH THE HEAD* NO DON'T SHUT UP, BLABBERS, NEVER SHUT UP HELPA DHJGA Don't you love it when two characters blend it and play a bullshit game of no context to get attention out? You better love it because personally I am dying for one more reason It's so IRONIC even to use NORMAN name *BREAKS THE TABLE* HE IS REAL!!!! YEAH!!! MY NERD KNOW MORE ABOUT HUMANS THAN HUMANS DO. PHARMA, GET OUT OF HERE, BLURR HAS A PERSONAL DOCTOR ....Wellllll I mean TECHNICALLY you already failed at keeping all possible secrets, Swerve.....

I'M SORRY I JUST KEFERON, KISSING YOU IN EVERY POSSIBLE KISSABLE PLACE I NEVER THOUGHT I CAN GO THAT CRAZY OVER THIS SPECIFIC PART GOING ON AND HOW THE HELL ARE YOU SO GOOD AT ALL THIS I AM IN SHAMBLES AND SHAKING I LOVE IT TO DEATH AND WANNA PRINT IT

Chapter 2 of Blurr storyline >:D

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

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

Part one

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

Under the cut⤵️

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

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

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

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

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

Wait, hell, not days. Cycles.

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

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

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

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

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

Swerve isn't sure he wants it to pass.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He's thinking about Blurr. A lot.

Blurr occupies a surprisingly important role in his comatose dreams.

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

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

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

But that's not quite true, Swerve thinks.

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

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

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

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

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

Uggh.

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

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

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

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

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

Freaking cursed.

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

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

Two - holy shit, Jazz is tiny.

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

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

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

He's going to get sick.

He needs to talk to Jazz right now.

____________

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

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

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

Jazz frowns

“Oh. I’m sorry to hear that.”

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

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

Swerve mentally crosses his fingers.

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

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

“Mech, what the hell?”

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

Before thinking for a bit, and adding.

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

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

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

Prowl looks confused.

Jazz looks absolutely frantic.

“SWERVE????”

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

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

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

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

Swerve laughs and twitches his eyebrows playfully.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He pauses dramatically.

“The long version is...”

Jazz raises his hand

“What's a holoform?”

Swerve sighs.

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

Jazz whistles impressed. And then immediately turns back to Prowl

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

Prowl hums

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

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

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

Jazz laughs

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

“ I was.”

Prowl frowns.

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

“.... I had a lot of practice...”

Jazz claps his hands.

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

“I got carried away,” Swerve admits.

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

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

“Two. And I failed my driver's exam.”

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

Swerve blows the hair out of his face

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

Jazz just wheezes incoherently in response. Prowl looks alarmed.

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

Swerve nervously shoves his hands into his pockets

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

Prowl twitches his door wings

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

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

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

He's thinking.

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

Then he remembers the mess he left behind.

Oh, no, it wasn't a dream.

Jazz puts a hand on his shoulder.

“Swer... Swerve? Dude, are you okay?”

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

Jazz looks...puzzled.

“Is that bad?”

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

“It's...complicated.”

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

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

Hahahahah oh fUCK.

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

It's also probably too late.

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

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

Jazz glares at him with a worried look on his face

“ That expression you have...”

Swerve puts the smile back on his face.

“I need to get to Earth.”

___________________

Swerve is not an idiot.

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

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

Ask the Quintessons. Or look for it himself.

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

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

Jazz, now back inside his Mech looks doubtful.

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

Swerve laughs.

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

“It's not harmful?”

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

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

Jazz tilts his head

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

Swerve bites his knuckles.

“ I have some unfinished business?”

“Pshhhh you sound like a ghost.”

Swerve only laughs in response.

_______________

Concentration is tricky.

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

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

Shit. No. Earth. Think Earth.

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

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

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

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

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

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

This is the place where he was last.

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

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

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

Swerve's bites his knuckles. Okay.

All right.

He's got things to do.

_______________

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

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

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

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

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

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

The answer is probably none.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Blurr's name isn't there.

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

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

That's...something's wrong.

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

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

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

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

Give me half an hour...okay, yeah.”

This is it, Swerve thinks.

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

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

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

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

Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit. Shi

Blurr looks like a mangled corpse.

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

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

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

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

“'Got bored without me Swindle?”

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

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

Blurr wrinkles his nose.

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

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

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

Swindle adjusts his glasses

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

“Because you like money” Blurr says without hesitation.

Swindle lets out a quiet chuckle.

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

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

Goes back to his seat.

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

He raises his hand when Blurr rushes to say something.

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

Swindle sighs and adjusts his glasses again

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

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

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

Swindle rubs the bridge of his nose

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

Blurr blinks.

“Why are you telling me all this.”

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

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

Blurr's eye widens

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

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

Blurr runs his fingers through his hair

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

Swindle puts his hat back on.

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

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

Swindle puts a hand on his shoulder.

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

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

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

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

Blurr smiles sourly.

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

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

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

Blurr bites his lip.

“I..don’t know...”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Ah, damn it.

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

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

Blurr ... is crumbling.

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

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

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

And continues to act like a jerk of course.

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

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

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

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

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

It's also an inconspicuous way to stay upright.

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

Investors say, “I think he likes me.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It makes a difference. Small one. But still.

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

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

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

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

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

After another conference, Shockwave stops Blurr in the hallway.

“Good show.”

Blurr laughs. Soundly and proudly.

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

Swerve, hiding on the ceiling again, snorts.

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

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

Blurr shrugs and lazily turns his head around distracted.

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

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

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

Blurr freezes.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Blurr visibly shivers and looks away.

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

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

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

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

“You are broken. I can fix you.”

Blurr frowns, but takes the piece of paper.

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

Shockwave tucks the notepad into his pocket.

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

Blurr flinches.

“I don't need your help.”

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

...

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

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

____________________________

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

Holy shit...

Jazz pokes him gently on the forearm

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

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

Jazz laughs

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

Swerve sits up and rubs the back of his head.

“Ah...”

“So it worked?”

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

Jazz rubs his hands together happily.

“I'll take it.”

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

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

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

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

Left to himself.

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

....

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

He looks at Jazz and Prowl.

“You two get along really well.”

Jazz chuckles, sitting on Prowl's shoulder.

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

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

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

_____________________

”Are you a ghost?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

Blurr squints amusedly.

“You can walk through walls?”

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

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

“Cool!” says Blurr cheerfully.

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

“ Show me more?”

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

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

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

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

“They really drugged you huh?”

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

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

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

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

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

Race???”

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

Blurr drops his hands back on the blanket

“I won't.”

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

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

Swerve sits down quietly cross-legged on the blanket.

“Well...at least you're alive....”

Blurr shakes his head.

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

“...”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Swerve folds his arms awkwardly across his chest.

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

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

Swerve stiffens.

“I...Wwhat?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You'll tell me later?”

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

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

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

Jazz looks at him. Very intensely.

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

Swerve snorts.

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

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

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

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

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

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

Swerve laughs.

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

_______________

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

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

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

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

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

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

Pharma smiles sweetly and reaches out for a handshake

“Mind some company?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Pharma tilts his head

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

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

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

“What do you mea...”

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

“No I'm just...”

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

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

Swerve shakes his head.

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

“Wh..”

Blurr rolls his eye.

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

“Wait..”

“Tell me about it. Especially doctors.”

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

“Can at least one of you shut up??”

Swerve adjusts his cap in a businesslike manner

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

He raises his eyebrows knowingly

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

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

“…..Wha....there's rumors?”

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

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

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

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

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

Swerve shrugs.

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

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

A quiet cough sounds behind Swerve's back.

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

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

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

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

Blurr snorts one last time, cutting off the laughter.

Then he reaches out his hand to him.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You're real???”

Swerve awkwardly waves his hands in front of him

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

Blurr shrugs.

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

Swerve twitches.

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

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

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

Blurr laughs quietly.

“I'm glad you're back.”

_____________________

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

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

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

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

Jazz smiles

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

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

“Worried about what your human friends will think?”

Swerve swings back and forth on his heels

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

Jazz frowns

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

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

#OKAY I HAD TO OPEN SECOND SCREEN JUST FOR COMMENTS AAHDGHAS BECAUSE I CAN FEEL ME EXPLODING RIGHT AFTER THE RAIN PART #SWERVE KNOWING ENGLISH FLUENTLY. SWERVE KNOWS HOW TO SPEAK HUMAN AHAHA ULTIMATE TRANSLATOR #It will pass. “But does he want it to?”. Swerve isn't sure he wants it to pass. “HELL YEAH”#...Oh okay... haha... here we go... no one minding Swerve... even less than Tailgate I guess ahah... damn....#...Sadly I'm pretty sure human friends would notice....#“In terms of writing scripts obviously” Oh Swerve #“He's thinking about Blurr. A lot” *AGGRESSIVELY SLAPS THE TABLE* THE FACT THAT IN THIS VERSION HIM THINKING OF BLURR DOESN'T LOOK STRANGE #IT LOOKS OKAY. IT WOULD HAVE BEEN NOT OKAY FOR HIM NOT TO THINK. I AM HERE FOR IT.#PFFFHT getting into fantasy world to find an object to fangirl over and find a work to get stuff about this object. Dream XDDD #Holy shit Jazz is tiny - says mini bot now dear imagine your fav character being equal to toy tadaaa #...I might have better use comments section. YES SWERVE. GOT IT #I LOVE WHEN CHARACTERS SWITCH TO LANGUAGE WHEN SOMETHING HAPPENS. HERE WE GO JAZZ #fav #FAV #I'M DEAD #I LOVE IT #I love it #AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

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howi99 · 3 days ago

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A Knight second chance 7

Yang: *surprised to see Jaune sitting at the dock* Jaune! *Walk to him*

Jaune: *looking back at Yang* Yang? What... Wait, did Blake run away? Is this why you are here?

Yang: What? Why would she run away? *Shaking her head* Wait no, don't change the subject! Do you know how much dust i had to use to find you!?

Jaune: *surprised* Finding me? Why?

Yang: *frowning* We found a girl crying her eyes out while saying your name! What the hell happened!?

Jaune: A girl cryi- *realising who She's talking about* P-Penny!? Why was she crying?!

Yang: She keeps saying something about a bridge and how she was sorry to have asked you to do something.

Jaune: *realising what happened* Oh no, no no no nO NO! *Getting up quickly* I was so stressed, i probably used my semblance on her without knowing!

Yang: *surprised* Stressed? By her? What, did she try attacking you?

Jaune: *shaking his head, distraught* No! Oh heaven no! She's the sweetest girl i know! She wouldn't hurt a fly! W-where is she!?

Yang: With Ruby at the park near the airport, but-

Jaune: *start sprinting in that direction*

Yang: J-Jaune, wait! We can use bumble- and he's gone... Damn he's fast.

___________________________________________

Ruby: *looking up at the Atlesian specialist* ... Are you related to Weiss by any chance?

Winter: *Looking at Penny with a stunned expression* ... She's crying?

Ruby: *nervous* I found her like this, i swear! A-and she refused to move from my side since! *Wriggling a bit* ... I kinda need to use the bathro- *sees Jaune running towards them* J-Jaune?!

Penny: *looking up, seeing the knight stressed expression* Jau-

Jaune: *hugging the broken girl, using his aura to heal her mind* It's ok! It's okay, i'm here now, it wasn't your fault.

Penny: *hugging back the knight* J-Jaune, i saw everything, I FELT EVERYTHING! I NEVER SHOULD HAVE ASKED YOU THIS!

Winter: *unsheathing her sword, pointing it towards Jaune* What did you do to her!

Jaune: *not looking at Winter* My semblance... I use my soul to heal and amplify others.

Winter: *frowning* That doesn't explain-

Jaune: *annoyed* What part of using my own soul, my memories and feelings don't you get?! She just lived through my most traumatic memories because i wasn't in control!

Ruby: *looking at her friend with worry* Jaune... Are you... Are you alright?

Jaune: ... I'm better than i was. Now let me fix her... *Looking up at Winter* Please...

Winter: ... *Sigh* You will have to answer to my superior afterward.

___________________________________________

Ironwood: *blinking, seeing Penny glued to Jaune's side* ... *Goes to speak*

Jaune: If i let her go for even a second, i will have to go back to square one.

Ironwood: ... And how long will it takes?

Jaune: *sigh* A day... Maybe two.

Ironwood: *frowning* That won't be-

Jaune: I already know she's a robot, general. My soul is currently inside of every single bolt of her.

Ozpin: *cocking one eyebrow* A robot you say? *Eyeing Ironwood* Interesting.

Ironwood: That was classified information.

Jaune: ... General, Penny's eyes can glow in the dark and her swords are connected to her back. She even have lasers. It would be a miracle if nobody saw through the disguise.

Ironwood: ...

Penny: *looking a lot better* General, it wasn't friend Jaune's fault if the accident happened. I should have listened to him and backed away when he asked for it. Please, do not punish him for my mistake..

Ironwood: ... *Sigh* I wasn't planning to punish him. Accident happens all the time.

Ozpin: *serious* However, Jaune's mental health could become a problem. *Looking at Jaune* Henceforth, you are expected to see the school psychologist. Is this fine with you?

Jaune: I... *Sigh* Yes, that's fine...

#jaune arc #yang xiao long #ruby rose #winter schnee #james ironwood #professor ozpin #penny polendina #rwby #rwby au #a knight second chance

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nr1chaedickrider · 3 days ago

Text

breathe on me

“and you think this is a good idea, why exactly?” you ask jihyo who's right next to you, a drink in her hand as she watches two other women, supposedly friends.

“some fun never hurts - they’re exactly our type, i'll take the blond haired one, you the black haired one” she replies, her eyes still focused on the pair, they’re laughing together and haven't ordered any drinks.

you watch jihyo, seeing how she locks eyes with the blond haired girl.

“call me when something bad happens, enjoy yourself,” she says before leaving you alone.

she walks up to both of them, shoots a charming smile to the girl she set her eyes on and as fast as she arrives - she has her arm around the girl's waist and is taking her to a secluded spot in the bar.

you look at jihyo’s empty glass next to you, then to the girl sitting there.

you only live once, right?

you walk over to her and sit down right next to her.

she looks at you, “and what do you think you're doing?”

you smile a little, “buying you a drink”.

the girl in front of you can't help but smile too.

“im flattered,” she replies.

“i'll have something with tequila” she tells the bartender as he nods, he looks at you.

“i'll have the same thing” he nods again, walking away to prepare your drinks.

“so,” you start speaking, music playing quietly in the back, “what's your name?” you ask.

“momo”

“im y/n, nice to meet you”

“pretty name” she compliments you, looking at you, her eyes travel over your body.

“got a little staring problem?” you tease a little.

the bartender places the drinks in front of you two and leaves you alone.

momo takes the glass in her hand as she looks back into your eyes again.

“when you're out here with your pretty underwear - yeah, i have one” she chuckles, taking a sip of it as her eyes don't leave yours.

you also decide on starting to drink a little, the liquor leaving a slight burn after it flows down your throat.

“you’re really pretty,” you say.

there's something about her that pulls you closer, it draws you in and makes you so interested in her, even if she's a complete stranger.

“why did you decide to buy me a drink?” she asks you.

“well,” you take another sip of your drink, then put it down on the table.

“i was alone and needed company - it looked like you were going through the same thing”

she smiles again, laughing a little.

“you’re smart”

she crosses her legs, leaning a bit forward while looking into your eyes.

“but i don't know if that's going to win me over, pretty” she coos, a smirk on her lips as she leans back again.

“it's a little hot in here, don't you think?” you ask her.

she looks at you, slightly confused on what you're trying to do.

you move the fabric of your top, revealing the matching calvin klein bra.

momo thinks about how it looks without being covered by your clothes.

her eyes are focused on your chest.

“maybe it is a little hot” her eyes move north to your exposed collarbone, maybe if she looks close enough she will even see a drop of sweat on your skin.

she looks back into your eyes, acting like she wasn't close to temptation.

she's trying to play hard to get, after all.

you can't help but chuckle a little at her behavior.

you take your glass and finish the rest of your drink, watching as she slowly reaches for hers.

her lips don't touch the glass yet - getting distracted by you leaning forward (she pretends like she didn't just look at your cleavage instead of your eyes).

your lips are right next to her ear, your hot breath on her sensitive skin.

“come on, finish your drink,” you whisper.

your hand lays on her lap, slowly rubbing her thigh, teasing her with slight touches close to her core.

she brings the glass to her mouth, slowly drinking out of it.

“you should let me take you home” your voice is low, teasing her.

you move down a little and kiss the skin right under her ear.

momo's breath hitches, her grip on the glass gets tighter.

if she wasn't close to temptation earlier, she definitely is now.

“i could make you feel so good,” you whisper against her skin, continuing to kiss her neck, your hand still teasing her.

“i could fuck you so good that you'll be begging for more” she bites her lip, drinking the last drop of her drink, but she doesn't dare to move, doesn't dare to breathe.

“do i turn you on, baby?” you ask, taking your hand away and leaning back.

you look at her now flushed face, “what happened to playing hard to get?” you tease her.

“thought you were going to stand on business, silly” you add, a chuckle escaping your lips.

momo puts the glass down on the table and exhales slowly before looking at you again.

“you’re coming with me, now” her voice is embarrassingly high, almost a whimper.

you don't complain but let her take your hand and pull you out of the bar.

“don't disappoint me,” she says.

“oh i won't - trust me.”

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threepandas · 3 days ago

Text

Bad End: Trust

"Meet your new mates, cargo! Get breeding!"

I didn't understand the bellowed noises at the time. It was just incoherent gibberish. Heaped on top of what was likely a concussion, mixed with what ever drugs they had pumped me with. Thrown into a cell, roughly, and hitting the ground hard. I couldn't have caught myself if I had wanted too. My limbs, unresponsive and dragging meat, that I could barely FEEL.

Please, god, I had thought. Don't let me be paralyzed. Not on top of everything else.

They'll kill me.

Behind and around me, the weeping cries of sorrow and fear rang out. Screams of violence, born of desperation. Countless races, bound together, suffering in this hell. Newly enslaved. I didn't... I couldn't understand. Shaking and struggling to remain conscious, laying on the blood stained floor. The world swayed violently. It was all I could do, to barely keep from passing out.

It was so cold. The air, the floor, the deep and clawing despair, sinking like knives into my gut. Those furry... things, had grabbed me while I was alone, before I could react. W-would anyone notice? Could anyone DO anything? I wanted to get away from the door. Curl up in a corner and... and cry. But I could not move. Like a doll, dropped thoughtlessly on the floor, I could not... could not move.

Tears I likely could not afford, threatened to choke me.

I... I was scared.

Then, deeper in the hovel that was my new home, movement. The heavy clink of chains. Shifting, slow and careful, followed by the drag of metal. A warm hand. Fingers, calloused but careful, checking my neck. My pulse, for injury perhaps, I couldn't tell. But... god, i could have sobbed in relief. They... they felt human.

How terrible of me. That I was GLAD not to be alone. T-That it was relief, to have another person here. Someone who might know what's going on. What to do. To.. to stick with. I... I should wish it was just me, right? That they captured no one else? But... oh god. O-Oh God, I can't! I'm scared. Please. P-please...

I'm so scared.

The person checking me hummed low and soft. Their voice crackling like an old radio that's been left sitting on a shelf too long, unused. How.. how long has it been? Since they last had anyone to talk too? They sounded male, but.. but I didn't want to presume. Could just have a low voice. Throat injury. Might be Trans. I didn't care, couldn't care. I was pretty sure? We were all we had now.

They... no, He, found nothing alarming enough not to move me. Shifting into view as he gently slipped his arms under me. Enough to pick me up and carry me away from the door. He was... is... pretty handsome.

Okay, REALLY handsome.

Horrifically enough? I could see WHY they grabbed him. Athletic as hell, TV ready, really smart. If you were going to ignore ever bit of decency and morality to ever exsist? Might as well go for the best, I guess. Don't know why they grabbed ME, but I guess? They need a stand in or something? Or my predecessor is dead.

(God, I hope she's dead. The alternative...)

Pretty quickly became apparent, though, that one of the main problems (of so, SO many)? Was we don't actually speak the same language. Which... I mean... Well, shit. That's, putting it mildly, "less then ideal". Being unable to communicate with the only other person nominally on "My Side"? Kinda bad! But, I AM learning. And I am teaching him english! So there's that.

We have nothing but time, after all. It helps distract from the suffering just outside. The weeping and screams. The sounds that must be begging, in alien dialects. All the mercies they do not find.

(Is it terrible? That I am glad I can not understand what they are saying? Their cries for help? I can't help them. It hurts. Helpless to even save my self. God, I'm sorry. Please... I'm... I'm so sorry...)

Food gets shoved in. Lights flipped on. Lights shut off. The timer odd, but probably standard for somewhere. It's like being told to go to sleep halfway through the afternoon. Yanked awake before full nights are done. I struggle to adapt, even a little, following my fellow prisoner's lead. Or, well, trying too. There's a lot of charades at first.

Then, practicing our languages. Taking what naps and cuddling for warmth we can. Harsh lights be damned. It's cold, we're tired, but we have to keep our strength up. Right? Throughout it all, I try to ignore the weird smells they pump in. Still not used to getting random scents blasted at my head from above, from the air vents in the walls.

Day in, day out, rinse and repeate. The weird gasses smells like people have had sex, to be honest. I think? But don't quote me. They might be trying to get us to "mate", like animals, so they can sell our kids. Induce some nonexistent human heat cycle or something. I've kinda started to worry, not gonna lie, about what they'll do... you know, once they finally get frustrated. Figure out, we don't work like that.

Or... more relevantly, might not even be? Compatible?

Cause Azenari is DEFINITELY not a human. They fucked uuuup. Cause if he is? There is some probably serious divergent evolution going on. He did NOT get nabbed from Earth. HE got nabbed from his SHIP(as in, yeah, a fuckin Space Ship). Because HIS people are space faring! The man has pointy ears for fucks sake! Some seriously fangy canines. And while, yeah, seriously kinda cool? No idea if our species are related, or... you know...

So yeah, The Fur Covered Slaver Bastards are apparently Humanoid face blind, on TOP of being just generally terrible. Or dumb! Might be dumb, honestly. Wouldn't put it past them. Banality of evil and all that. But recently? There was a... tension. Something was coming. The Bastards seemed twitchy.

"Not long now, beloved. We're two stops from the extraction ambush." Azenari murmured, from where he was tucked loosely around me as I watch the latest patrol pass, one arm cradling me tight. Even as, with the other hand, he sleepily stroked my back. "You'll look lovely in proper robes. You deserve finery, my love."

I couldn't understand most of the sentence. Normally he simplified for me, since I was still learning. He seemed... pleased? Smug? The more tense and twitchy the Bastards got, the more darkly amused he seemed to become. As though he knew exactly why. As though he was laughing inside.

"My magnificent darling, you'll belong to me in everyway that matters. I'll take safer jobs. No more slave ring stings. I promise."

Oh. I think I got it. Azenari though of me as family! Yeah, that tracked. Trauma bonding and all. I did too. Couldn't help but smile, hugging him back, much to his clear delight. Yeah. We were in this together.

I'm glad I had someone I could trust. The universe was big and I would be pretty much alone without him. All but thrown at his feet and told I was his, Azenari had every chance to hurt me. But he didn't. He was a good man. Solid and stable when everything when frightening, warm and there when I needed to hide.

Really, it was only a matter of time before we would be chatting like old friends!

"You are NEVER going to escape me, beloved."

"I Love You."

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meo-eiru · 3 days ago

Note

Do you have any tips on starting a VN is really wanna make one but have no idea how to actually start I have a few ideas but the writing and planning out is what overwhelms me and starting things is always a struggle how did start the process on your VN?

Well I'm no pro by any means so take everything I say with a grain of salt. I'm sure everyone has a style they find more productive but I'll talk about how I personally go about it as an artist who prefers drawing over writing (I'll be using the stuff I made for a now scrapped vn idea)

I usually like to draw a simple storyboard to get a gist of exactly where I'm planning to start and the story I have in my head. It's a very simple and quick step and don't be afraid to make some changes on the first version you drew.

For example here I have the start of the story and the 3 endings with the main diversion of the story line.

Then once I'm done with that I make a more detailed and longer storyboard of the actual game. I decide exactly where the options appear and where they lead to. This one is important, I usually go back to check what I decided on quite often, don't think "oh I can remember this no problem", you probably won't. Write down notes.

Once that's done I basically dive into writing the actual script, while following the story line I had decided on beforehand.

Visual novels are quite easy to code but they are very dialogue heavy, and dialogue writing is very different from writing normally. You can't just go "he said she said", you need them to come directly from the character. Don't be afraid to spend as much time here as you need.

As I said I'm not a pro, for example Sel is a writer and not an artist and I know she just immediately starts with the script after some planning, writes an overall script and adds in more details every time she goes over them.

There are no strict rules to making vns, there isn't a schedule you're forced to follow. See what feels easier to start with and go from there

#asks #visual novel #visual novel development #game dev #game development

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redfoxwritesstuff · 2 days ago

Text

AN: Have a good Christmas Eve if you celebrate, don't forget to put cookies out and most importantly, regardless of if you celebrate or not- Don't go licking any doorknobs!

CW: Public sex, garden sex, drunk sex, oral sex

Summary: You were at the most exclusive holiday party in all of Hell and it should have been a great time. Instead, you were in a dress you didn't feel good in and left by yourself. If you didn't have anyone to spend the party with, you'd make friends with the bartender. One thing lead to another and before you knew it, you were in the most depressed drink off with the King of Hell himself and needing to step outside for some air.

The Pride Manor Christmas party was a thing of legends. Only the highest powers in all of hell, not just the Pride ring, were lucky enough to snag an invitation. That made the sight of you and the other hotel guests stick out like a sore thumb. None of you had clothes nice enough to really fit in with the crowd.

Charlie was more than eager to dress Vaggie up but it fell to Alastor to do the rest and… his enthusiasm was lackluster at best. The result was a dress that was also lackluster.

You had tried to make the best of it, but the confidence just wasn’t there. The dress wasn’t ugly but… it didn’t feel like you. It was whatever. You had decided as you made your way to the bar.

Every single person there was better than you, having a better time than you. Alastor disappeared after jabbing insults with the king, smile and laugh seeming to trail behind him. Vaggie and Charlie had each other. They were wrapped up in their hush hushed whispers, focused on nothing but eachother. Angel Dust was off with Husk, somehow managing to be the life of the party. Niffty was off somewhere, cleaning something.

And you? You were alone in a dress that didn’t make you feel good enough to even try to socialize.

The bar would be your friend. You sat down and ordered a shot, wanting to get a buzz going quickly. At least if you were buzzed, you wouldn’t feel so lonely.

“That’s a strong choice,” the smooth voice of Lucifer came from behind you, startling you as he sat in the seat next to you.

“Is that a problem, Your Majesty?” You forced a smile on your lips.

“Not for me.” He directed his attention to the bartender, ordering himself one of the same. “You’re not enjoying the party?”

“Oh!” Your smile grew strained. “I- Sure. I just don’t… It’s a lot of people.”

You downed your shot, catching sight of Lucifer doing the same out of the corner of your eye. You ordered another, only for him to do the same.

“Yeah.” He sighed, picking up the small glass and rolling it in his fingers. “It’s not actually my thing, but it’s tradition, and who am I to piss on tradition?”

“You’re the King.” You almost laughed at the thought of the devil himself being hopeless in the face of tradition. “And the devil. Isn’t pissing on tradition your thing?”

“Not really.” He forced a smile, fingers running over the golden ring that had sat for centuries, marking the marriage that he still longed for. “The party was my wi-” he hesitated, cutting the word off before changing what he was going to say. “It was Lilith’s thing. Charlie lives for it every year. I wouldn’t take that from her.”

“Oh.” You struggled to know what else to say, so instead, you downed your shot. Lucifer downed his right after you. Together, you ordered another. “Are you copying me?”

“I’m just a man sitting at the bar drinking.” He smiled. “How do I know you’re not trying to copy me?”

You downed your drink as soon as it landed, just to watch Lucifer do the same. “What are you doing?” you finally snapped at him, feeling the heat of the drinks flowing through your veins. “Why are you bothering me?”

He smiled softly at you. “Why are you not enjoying the party?”

“Because your party fucking sucks,” you lashed out. It wasn’t your proudest moment. “It sucks and I don’t fucking know anyone here. I dont have anyone to drink with and the cherry on top is I look fucking ugly in my dress.”

“Another,” Lucifer flagged the bartender, “Make mine double.”

“Me, too.” You insisted.

“Don’t try to keep up with me, angel.” Lucifer warned, downing first one shot and then the next.

“Don’t underestimate me,” you challenged and in that moment, you found yourself in what you very much hadn’t expected- a drink off with the king of hell himself.

Shot after shot went down as your sour mood became a little lighter. The pace slowed as the time between shots was filled with the drunk chatter that was found in bars around the living world and in hell.

“Oh,” you said as you leaned back, a smile on your warm face. “I think I need to get some air.”

“Have too much to drink?” Lucifer teased as you stood, swaying on your feet. “Oh, shit.” He rushed off his stool after quickly downing the last of the shots in front of him.

“I’m okay,” you said as his hand rested on your lower back. “Just need some air. Then I’ll drink you under the table.”

“Right,” Lucifer said. “Let me help you out?”

“I don’t… I don’t need anyone’s help.” Your words slurred as Lucifer walked with you. “Having help is how I ended up in this ugly dress.”

“Where are you going?” Lucifer asked as you marched intently off.

“Outside.” You looked over at him as if he was dumb.

“That’s not the way outside,” Lucifer laughed as he guided you in another direction. “There’s a garden this way. Do you want to see it?”

“Are there ducks?” you asked as you let him lead you on the way, catching him by surprise. “Charlie said you like ducks.”

“Char talks about me?” Lucifer’s smile brightened and your heart skipped a beat. He was a handsome man when he smiled.

“Sometimes,” you shrugged as he guided you into the hall, the party fading into the distance as your heels clicked against the stone floors. “She loves you a lot. Like, a lot a lot.”

“I love her a lot, too.” Lucifer smiled, guiding yo toward the large windows that looked out on an enclosed garden.

“Oh, wow.” Your breath caught as you looked out on it.

“Come on,” Lucifer held open the door. “Let’s get you some air.”

The garden was magical, not just in its beauty but in the cool air that felt so much like that of a summer night in the living world that washed over you. Each breath you took seemed to clear your head as you walked deeper into the garden. Bushes and trees obscured the view from the windows.

“Why don’t you like your dress?” Lucifer asked, as you walked with wide-eyed glee through his garden. It had been years, decades since he had brought another into the little slice of life he had created in the depths of hell.

“Oh?” You looked down at yourself, running your fingers over the fabric. “It’s just- it’s not something I’d pick for myself. I- I think it doesn’t, I don’t know.”

Lucifer laughed, quickly choking the sound off when he caught sight of the tears in your eyes.

“Oh, no!” He rushed to wipe the tear from your cheek. “I think it looks- you look swimmingly in it. It looks wimming on you. Wimming! Fuck!”

It was your turn to laugh as Lucifer stomped away from you. You followed, swaying on your feet as he stomped his way to the large tree that was the centerpiece of the garden.

“I’m sorry,” you said, resting a hand on his back to steady yourself and offer comfort. “I just, I- you’re cute.”

“You think I’m cute?” Lucifer smiled, turning to face you slowly. “I’m a damned mess and you think I’m cute?”

“Aren’t we all?” you teased. “Damned, I mean. That’s why we’re all here.”

“Because of me.”

You shrugged. “I don’t know, man, you seem pretty fuckin normal. You’re cute and goofy and just a dude.”

“I’m the,” Lucifer swayed a little on his feet as he reached out for you, “I’m the most powerful being down here and you don’t think it’s my fault?”

“No,” you said, laughing as you leaned against the tree for support. “I think humanity was fucked from the start. We’re fucked, man. Totally fucked up creatures because- you want to know why?”

“Why?” Lucifer leaned against the tree. “Oh, wise one?”

“Because you fucked up.” You poked his chest, leaning into him. “You know what we’re taught about you?”

“What?” Lucifer said, enjoying the fact that you were simply talking to him like a man.

“That you were the most perfect being. You were the more- the more- fuck, the more perfect than us and you fucked up. If you fucked up, then we were destined to fuck up too, so stop giving yourself so much credit. It’s fucking- you’ve got a big fucking ego.”

“I’m the sin of pride,” Lucifer’s eyes flicked down to your lips. He knew it was wrong. You were drunk, but that didn’t stop him from hoping you would initiate something. If you did… maybe it wouldn’t be so wrong to follow your lead.

No, he knew that was wrong.

“You may be the sin of pride, but I want to commit the sin of lust with you.” You smiled wide, rather proud of your pickup line. Never in a million lifetimes did you think you’d be hitting on the king, the fucking devil himself, but you were.

“I – you’re drunk.” Lucifer sighed, pulling his eyes away from you.

“I’m not that drunk.” Your words slurred, but you stood up straight. Well, almost. “And I’m getting soberer by the minute. I haven’t- fuck, you don’t have to fuck me, but can you at least kiss me? I- I don’t know, just- I want to feel… feel maybe just not like this night is wasted?”

“Wasted?” Lucifer cocked his head to the side. “Only thing wasted is you from trying to out drink-”

You launched yourself at the king, wrapping your arms around him and knocking his hat from his head. Your lips sealed over his, cutting off his words. For a moment, he stood frozen, holding his hands out to the sides. Soft lips caressed his, melting his resolve.

You pulled back, a wide grin on your face as you prepared to dance off and rejoin the party. It wasn’t that you felt better about the party or the dress. Lucifer had just made it clear he had no interest in fucking you as you were. If he wouldn’t, you’d find someone who would.

Lucifer reached out, snagging your wrist before you made it more than a few steps. He pulled you back, wrapping his arms around you. Morals be damned, ethics be damned- it had felt good to be wanted, to be kissed, and he wanted more of that.

He kissed you with hunger and passion that left you gasping for air. Nimble fingers made quick work of exposing your breasts, taking in the feel of them in his hands. He moaned at the soft points of your nipples, enjoying the way your body responded to the artificial cool air of the garden.

You moaned as he pinched the pebbled bud. He devoured the sounds you had made, swallowing them as you arched into his body. It took only a few pulls of your fingers through his hair to reduce his neatly combed blond locks into a wild mess, falling in front of his eyes as he peppered your neck and chest in kisses.

“Do you still want me?” Lucifer asked as he pushed his hips into you, working the hard shaft of his cock against the front of his pants.

“Fuck,” you gasped, trying to get enough air into your lungs. “Please? I want you.”

“Turn around,” Lucifer directed. “Put your hands on the tree.”

“Oh, shit.” Instead of listening, you reached down, palming the hardness in his pants.

Lucifer made quick work of undoing his pants and freeing his cock, disproportionately large for the shorter man. It shouldn’t have surprised you, not really. He was heaven’s most perfect angel. Of course, he would have a perfectly sized dick.

You dropped to your knees, eager to wrap your lips around him. He was heavy on your tongue as you took him in your mouth for a moment. The salt of his skin coated your tongue as you ran it up and down the length of his shaft. Soft kisses collected the slick pre-cum that gathered at his tip.

“Up,” Lucifer groaned out, “We don’t have a whole lot of time before someone will look for me.”

As soon as you were on your feet, he spun you and pushed you into the tree. Eager hands gathered the skirt of your dress, bunching it up around your waist. Elastic dug into your hips for a moment as he ripped your panties down your legs.

You bent over, giving the skirts a shelf of your back to rest on and presenting your glistening sex to him.

“Fuck,” Lucifer moaned out as he ran his hot, gold flushed head along your folds. “The sin is how limited our time is.”

You moaned as he slowly spread your folds over his head, parting your walls. Time was short, but he knew just as well as you that the initial few moments were some of the sweetest of sex. There was little that compared to tight walls gripping him before they relaxed and made way.

“Shit, you’re so- fuck.” You struggled to get your words out as he bottomed out, seating himself wholly within you. The stretch was nearly too much and yet that was what made it so amazing.

“Thanks,” he chuckled for a moment, letting your walls flutter and adjust to the intrusion.

In what felt like seconds, Lucifer was pounding into you as your ankles struggled to spread wider, constricted by the tight rings of your panties. Rough bark scraped against your chest, biting into your nipples as you cling to the tree, using it as support.

Each thrust into you had his balls slapping your clit. The head of his cock speared you again and again, working the coil within you tighter and tighter. You wished you could see him, see anything, but it took everything you had to hold on to the tree as the devil himself railed you.

“Shit,” you gasped out, head falling back as he kept his relentless pace up. “Just like that.”

“As you wish,” Lucifer said, cringing slightly at the line but changing nothing about the pace.

Your cries grew louder and louder, whimpers, whines, swears, curses and praises all fell eagerly from your lips, making the sweetest music he had heard in decades. Fuck, he had forgotten how good it felt to be within someone, how good it felt to make someone feel good.

“Are you close?” He huffed out each word, cock twitching with the threat of his own finish.

“So close,” you whined as he wrapped his hand around your throat, pulling you back by the soft grip. The dominating move was all it took to send you over the edge, walls gripping his cock with renewed force. “Oh fuck. Oh god, oh god, oh god.”

Lucifer laughed in your ear as his cock twitched, swelled, and then shot his essence into you. His thrusts grew sloppy, rhythm failing as he devolved from the arrogant devil into a gasping man, whimpering with pleasure as your walls milked him of what seed he had left.

You leaned into lucifer as his cock twitched inside you, the last few spurts of cum painting your cervix. His chest rose and fell behind you, jacket buttons digging into the skin of your back. For a few sweet moments, you allowed yourself to indulge in the feeling of being in his arms.

“We-” Lucifer sighed as your walls rippled around his softening cock, aftershocks of your orgasm whispering promises of more pleasure if he would only spirit you away. “We should get back to the party.”

“Yeah.” You swallowed, trying to wet your throat, dried out from the gasping breaths. “We should.”

Lucifer sighed as his cock slipped from the warm embrace of your hole. He straightened his pants, tucking his wet cock back inside. He nearly zipped himself up, focused more on the sight of your ass, skirt still tangled on your waist as you bent down and pulled your panties up.

The wet gusset, soaked with your slick, smeared up your leg. Slick mixed with the trail of his cum leaking down your thighs. He could only focus on what he was doing when you stood up straight again, pulling the skirts of your dress so they would fall neatly around your legs.

“Let me walk you back?” Lucifer offered his arm to you.

After a moment of hesitation, you took it, allowing the king to wrap your arm around his forearm. He led the way out of the garden, pace slow and relaxed. They needed to get back to the party, but he didn’t want to rush away from your undivided attention.

“I know you don’t like your dress,” Lucifer said as you stepped into the hall. “But I think you look mesmerizing in it. If you want something different, I can make you something else, if you’d like?”

“I-” You looked down, smoothing your fingers over the fabric. “I don’t know. Alastor conjured it. It would but rude.”

“Oh,” Lucifer laughed, spinning you into a circle. “That’s all the more reason to make you something you’ll feel as beautiful in as you look right now.”

“My king,” you teased, resting your hand on his chest. “That’s far too much for your drunk party fuck.”

Saying the words hurt more than you had expected. You pushed yourself away from him and walking toward the party. Instead of letting him see that for even a second you thought maybe it could be something more than that, you focused on the sway of your hips and the look you gave him over your shoulder, daring him to chase you.

What you didn’t see when you turned back around was the longing on Lucifer’s face or the way he ran his fingers over his wedding ring.

Perhaps… this year, for Christmas he would give himself a present…

Perhaps he would gift himself permission to take that ring off and move on.

Join us at VoxTek for a Vox themed Hazbin Discord where we talk Vox, Hazbin, writing, reading, art and who knows what else. You may even catch some exclusive sneak peeks at upcoming fics from some of your favorite writers including the first page of the next chapter of MisD a day early!!

#DRP Smutmas 2024 #Lucifer x reader #lucifer x you #Lucifer x y/n #hazbin lucifer x reader #hazbin lucifer x you #hazbin lucifer x y/n #hazbin hotel Lucifer x reader #hazbin hotel lucifer x you #hazbin hotel lucifer x y/n #lucifer smut #hazbin hotel x reader

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wilhelminyard · 2 days ago

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compilation of nice/sweet things the foxes said to neil because even though they're a bunch of assholes who'll insult anyone in their vicinity they all just love him so damn much (part 2) :

ANDREW :

"I'm not here for your entertainment" "but as expected you are talented enough to multitask"

"you are neil josten and I am still the man who said he would keep you alive. I don't care if you use this phone tomorrow. I don't care if you never use it again. but you are going to keep it on you because one day you might need it. on that day you're not going to run. you're going to think about what I promised you and you're going to make the call."

"I'm not afraid of you" "that's why you're so interesting"

DAN :

"don't thank us, remember us. we're your teammates. we're here to help you with whatever you need."

"you've got us now"

"that was perfect. but don't do something that reckless again. we can't replace you. hear me?"

"neil, you can use the girls' shower while we're busy"

MATT :

"just try not to think about it until we get there. you won't do yourself any favorite if you spend the ride stressing out about things you can't change."

"if you don't have anywhere to go, I'll drag you home with me"

KEVIN :

"if you get hurt out there, you do something about it. you take it easy, you have coach pull you, you ask abby for help - I don't care. if you ever say 'I'm fine' about your health again I will make you rue the day you were born"

"neil has no place in riko's games. he is a fox."

"run. it's the only way you'll survive"

"you should be court."

"will you still teach me?" "every night."

"I will watch you. if you want to drink tonight. I won't let you say something you'll regret." "you'll be drunk inside an hour. then who'll stop me?" "I would stop drinking."

"you're not going. do you know what he'll do to you?"

WYMACK :

"why did you pay for stalls coach?" "maybe I knew you'd need them one day"

"neil, if you can't be here say so. abby can take you elsewhere until it's time to leave. get out of here and get some fresh air."

"what can I do?" "I don't know" "when you know, tell me"

"sometimes the world feels so big but then I'm reminded how small it is" "big or small just remember you're not alone in it."

"if riko really was behind it somehow, the blame is all on him. he chose to take out his petty rage on seth. he chose to cross a line. you didn't. you hear me? you didn't. don't ever blame yourself for seth's death. that it too dangerous a road to walk down. you keep your eyes on your own path and keep moving forward"

"neil" "I'm fine" "be fine inside where it's warmer"

"look I know I've always told you all to take your personal problems up with betsy or abby. I've said it's not my place to get into anything outside the court. I hope you've figured out by now I'm just blowing hot air. I'm not real good at being a shoulder, but I do have a working set of ears."

"help me" "let me"

"this doesn't mean anything. I'm still a fox." "of course you are."

NICKY :

"kid you're killing me. why do you always get that deer-in-headlights look when someone does something nice for you?"

"you worry about neil's career. I'll worry about his personal happiness."

"I didn't really get into the gritty details last time because those aren't reallt dan and matt's business, but you're family, so I can tell you."

"there's obsession and there's dysfunction. you can't make exy your end-all be-all. this won't last forever, okay? you'll shine bright, then you'll retire, and then what? you gonna spend the rest of your life at home alone with all your trophies? you can't be just this, neil. this isn't enough to live for."

"thanks for taking one for the team, neil. you're a real friend."

"are we? friends?" "you are going to be the absolute death of me. yeah, kid. we're friends. you're stuck with us, like it or not."

"I only see that look on neil's face when someone tries to do something nice for him, but we all know kevin's as bratty as they come. what did you say, kevin, and do I need to defend neil's honor or what?"

RENEE :

"I am not the girl I once was but the shade of my old life will always existe inside of me. that is what helps me connect with andrew. I am hoping it will help me connect with you."

"I do not know your story. if you've trusted andrew with anything, he hasn't shared the details with me and he never will. but if you are as like us as we first predicted you to be, perhaps one day you can also come to see me as a friend."

"if either andrew or I can help you, please know we are here."

"and you neil? are you all right?"

#aftg #all for the game #neil josten #andrew minyard #andreil #david wymack #kevin day #aaron minyard #nicky hemmick #matt boyd #dan wilds #renee walker #allison reynolds #psu foxes #the foxes #the raven king

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mysteryshoptls · 3 days ago

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SSR Trey Clover - Room Relaxation Voice Lines

I don't need anything special just because it's my birthday. I'll be happy just spending it peacefully as ever.

Summon: Living in a dorm is always lively and enjoyable, but that's what makes my alone time even more precious. I wonder what I should do tonight?

Groovification: Today's my birthday... So just let me sleep in a bit more.

Home: Guess I'll head to sleep.

Swap Looks: Can't forget to brush your teeth before sleeping and after waking up.

Home Transition 1: Whew... Oh, oops, I zoned out there for a bit. Time flies when you're not paying attention, huh. Guess I'll brew some coffee.

Home Transition 2: It's always good to have a light top layer handy. It's pretty useful to quickly throw on whenever I need to stay up a little late.

Home Transition 3: Jamil's present was a hot eye mask. I really like how soothing it is. He really gave me something nice.

Home Transition - Login: It might be fun to make my own birthday cake, sure... But there'll be so many sweets at the party that it could be too much to try to eat.

Home Transition - Groovy: I was shocked when Silver gave away that Riddle was planning a surprise for me. The fact that he didn't even seem to have revealed it with ill will is a problem in and of itself...

Home Tap 1: I'm starting to feel a little peckish... No, I shouldn't. I definitely don't want to doze off and wake up without having brushed my teeth, so.

Home Tap 2: I got a notif of a new video. Oh, they're making a boat out of chocolate, huh. This pâtissier sure is something, as always.

Home Tap 3: I received some oil from Ortho, and I'll admit, I did tense up a bit... But when I checked, I was relieved to see it was just olive oil for cooking.

Home Tap 4: I wasn't expecting Sebek to wish me a happy birthday. His tone was arrogant, as always, but maybe he's actually a conscientious guy...?

Home Tap 5: I seem different from usual? I don't think I'm doing anything different... Ah, maybe it's because I'm not wearing my glasses?

Home Tap - Groovy: How do I spend time when I'm in my room? I don't really do anything too special... Although honestly, I'm actually not a morning person, so I just try not to stay up too late.

Duo: [TREY]: Thanks for the earnest well wishes, Silver. [SILVER]: I wish you the very best, Trey-senpai.

Birthday Login Message: You're here for my birthday, huh? And this present... Oh, it's honey! Thanks! It's useful and honestly, easy to comprehend. What I mean is, we had a Science Club meeting today, and... Well, while the club members were wishing me a happy birthday, Rook gave me something. Look at this. According to Rook, it's a "wondrously beautiful clover," but... Is there any difference from a regular clover? I don't really get it... What about you? If you can figure out the difference, let me know on the down low.

Requested by @farfalla49 and @sakurakudo.

#twisted wonderland #twst #trey clover #twst trey #twst silver #twst translation #twst birthday

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genderqueerdykes · 15 hours ago

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How do you find out if you’re intersex? I have terrible periods, was diagnosed with PCOS and put on estrogen and some other birth control before I went on T, and found out during my first gyno check that I just….dont have a canal? Which explains a lot because bedroom activities were so excruciating that I avoid them but my doctor won’t diagnose anything?

This is my regular doctor. I have a heart condition so I see him often enough. But he just won’t talk about it? Am I losing it? It can’t be normal.

you were diagnosed with PCOS and you don't have a vaginal canal. you're intersex! you don't need to find any other additional information or do any tests, those are both intersex variations! if you'd like to learn more, you're definitely welcome to research those conditions, or reach out to other intersex people to discuss your situations!

most people don't really find out they're intersex in a formal manner, it's generally when someone learns about the intersex community that they realize it. very few people are diagnosed or medically referred to as intersex, most of us are out here with intersex variations, still forced into M or F markers.

this is actually very normal- but that means you're not alone and you're not losing it though- more often than not, you are not going to get told you're intersex in that wording by a medical professional. especially in medical settings. even OBGYNs and other reproductive health doctors will not use the "I" word. most people find out they're intersex due to the variations and conditions they're diagnosed with, not the "I" word.

you're intersex, you don't need to get that confimation from your doctor because it's more than likely not going to happen. most doctors really are not on the intersex person's side. when i was diagnosed with PCOS, hyperandrogenism and other issues as a teen, i was forced onto estrogen like you were. i was never told i was intersex, though. the only thing they told me was that i was more than likely sterile. they were more concerned about telling a teenager that they couldn't have children than telling me what being intersex was. they likely didn't even know the word or what it means. i don't think most medical professionals have even heard of intersexuality.

most doctors see intersexuality as a series of health conditions that are a "problem to fix" and not a state of being that a person can exist in naturally without needing to be modified.

i hope that helps! you're intersex :) feel free to ask any more questions you have, i'm definitely glad to help! take care for now!

#asks #answers #intersex #pcos

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chaoticwriting · 1 day ago

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Danny X Cass Part 4

They arrive at the pantry in just a moment. Danny, Cass and the rest of the batfam go to take their seat while Clark and Diana go to make some teas and snacks. Danny and Cass sit beside each other with the other side of Cass being Spoiler. Opposite of Danny is Bruce while beside him are Nightwing and Robin. Red Robin takes a chair and sits right behind Batman while still taping on his wrist computer.

Batman, Nightwing and Robin keep staring at Danny while Clark and Diana prepare the snacks and teas but Danny doesn't look nervous at all. As much as Danny wants to take all of them seriously, he really can't when he knows what he knows.

A moment later Clark and Diana come with 2 trays of snacks and teas and put them on the table. They take a chair each and sit near the end of the table. Clark and Diana can feel the intense glares from 3 bats. Both of them glance at the target in question and they can see that the guy takes the glare with stride. It's like the person that is being glared at is someone else.

Suddenly, a loud ding sounded in the room. Danny takes out his phone and a grin spreads on his face. Danny shows the screen to Cass and she also releases a few giggles. Feeling the glares becoming more intense, Danny puts his phone on the table and lets everyone see what he is seeing.

On his phone is a selfie of Dan holding a bloodied Darkseid in one hand with a caption "Can't even give out a decent fight. Even Boxy is a better sparring partner than him." Another message entered Danny's phone and there is a selfie of Elle with Danny's clone bitch slapping Trigon in the background. "This place is so cool. You gotta bring me here to play more." Danny shows the rest of the heroes that the deed is done and they finally relax. Clark stands up from his table and goes back to the other room to inform the other heroes that the threat had already been taken care of.

Danny then puts back his phone and continues drinking his tea. Heh. They might think that they are being scary but they don't even know even now Danny is still flirting with Cass. That's one of the benefits of being able to read the opponent's body language and ghost speak. To others holding hands is just holding hands but to them, holding hands can be used to convey all of your emotions.

They stay like that for a while longer until Clark returns from the other room. Seeing Clark fully seated, Bruce finally speaks.

"Who are you really?" Bruce asks with the most intimidating voice he can use.

"Didn't I say? I'm Danny Phantom. High King of Infinite Realm etc etc. I have a lot of titles but the high King one is the only important one." Danny says carelessly.

"How old are you?" Bruce asks.

"20"

"Impossible." Red Robin suddenly interjects.

"Why is it impossible?" Danny looks curiously at him. He genuinely doesn't know why it is impossible.

"There are records of you all across time all the way back to the ancient human. There are even traces of you in multiple pantheons." Red Robin says.

"Oh, you mean that. Duh, it's easy. I time travel. It's quite easy to time travel when your pops is the master of time." Danny says.

"But didn't you say Clockwork hates when someone messes with time?" Superman asks.

"If there is a time traveler that messes with the timeline, who do you think will deal with the guy? It certainly ain't that old man. He sends me to deal with the time traveler/magician who are trying to change the timeline." Danny says.

"Is Clockwork your father then?" Diana asks.

"Adopted parents. He is my parents/mentor for anything ghost related. Well actually for most things related except personal human problems." Danny says.

"How long have you known Black Bat?" Nightwing asks. Finally the real question.

"Wait, I think 10 years now. You are 21 right Cass? I remember when I first met her she was being chased down by this weird ninja. After I shot a few of them down with my Fenton Taser, Cass handled the rest of them. She then passed out from exhaustion and I brought her to my secret hideout (A cave Danny found just then). After a few days, Cass fully recovered and since then, she and I have been meeting every few months whenever she comes around."

"Also, I know all of your real identity. The phrase 'Dead man tells no tales' is a complete bs by the way. The ghosts really like gossiping. Like that one time I heard a ghost say that he sees Bruce fall into the dumpster because his grappling hook is jammed. Or that one time Dick got catcalled by an old lady."

The bats (except Cass)froze when they hear that Danny knows their secret identity. Bruce sighs and takes off his cowl followed by the rest of the family.

"Do you also know my identity, Danny?" Clark asks.

"Yes, I know you Kal-el. Your parents are very proud of what you have become."

"You met Ma and Pa?"

"Your biological parents."

"You- you've met my parents?" Clark's voice shakes. Danny nods while smiling warmly.

"If you want, I can set up a meeting with your parents. Not for long of course. It's not good for a mortal to be inside the realm for too long. And that invitation extends to all of you."

Most of them stilled at that invitation.

#danny phantom #dead silent #danny x cass #dp x dc crossover #dpxdc #batfam #cassandra cain #justice league

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tuesdayiminlove · 3 days ago

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i don't wanna look at anything else (now that i saw you) PART 2/3

where jamie seems to remember everything, and you're just trying to navigate a stitch on your crochet flower (jamie tartt x fem!reader)

part one

A/N: here's part two!!!!! link what yall think, im so grateful for the feedback of the first part, it's super encouraging <33 tysm. also this is NOT proofread oops

word count: 4.5k

When you arrive back inside your home, you’re heavy-breathing with a heartbeat erratic enough for your heart to pop out of your chest. You place your keys down, reaching into your jean pocket for your phone, placing the first call you can manage to muster up.

Stevie is over within minutes, you think you might’ve heard her light jogging over to your house.

Her heavy pants echo the room as she tries to muster up the words. “I just got back from work, and I fucking ran! Tell me the emergency immediately.”

“I don’t even know where to begin!” you say. “I mean, I was trying to make some creamy vegetable soup, but I didn’t even get to chop the tomatoes, Stevie! The fucking tomatoes! I—“

“Okay, begin by getting the point, babe." She walks to your kitchen, you following close behind. It doesn’t come to a surprise that she opens your refrigerator, most likely rummaging for the cucumbers and your chickpea hummus. “I love you, but if this is dire, I’m gonna need to know now.”

You gather your thoughts as Stevie begins to look through your drawers for a knife. How do you even say it simply? “Jamie Tartt thinks I’m his girlfriend.”

Stevie drops the knife.

In any other situation, you would scold her for doing something close to a hazard in the kitchen. But you understand her actions completely. If you were holding a flower pot when finding out this information, you’d drop that shit, too.

“Continue before I absolutely freak the fuck out.”

That’s when you tell her about the call and the trip to the hospital. The words are coming out of your mouth at the speed of light, you’re surprised Stevie is managing to keep up. But she does, quietly chopping her cucumbers and dipping a few into the hummus. This is a more collected look than when she dropped the knife, but you’re sure the gears are turning in her head just as much as they are for you currently.

“I just left his house and I told him I’d be back with—soup!”

You don’t wait to turn the stove back on, shuffling Stevie away from the center of the counter while you go back to cooking.

She says your name slowly, eyes wide. “This is some romcom-movie-shit, babe.”

You fight a roll of your eyes. “This is real life!” you scold. “And the poor boy is concussed, probably mental!”

“Mental for thinking he’s dating you? Have you seen yourself? You’re fucking magnificent.”

“Thanks,” you drawl, not in the mood for a compliment. “But that doesn’t change the fact that he’s just a bit bonkers right now, and I don’t know what to do!” You stir the pot stressfully, watching the ingredients mix around the broth. You’ve put a bit more ingredients, and added more broth to make sure that the serving is good for two, and for any leftovers Jamie may want. You think you’ll have enough to send Steve home with, as well. “The doctor said not to startle him, but I’m pretty fucking startled. So I don’t know how to not startle him when I’m not in the right state of mind! This feels so stupid.”

“I think you should tell him the truth,” says Stevie. She’s right behind your shoulder, peering over at the pot. She takes a large whiff, and hums. “You making this for him?”

“And for you.” And me!

“Ah,” she says. “I see. A little compensation so I don’t out you to the press, yeah? Nice thinking!”

“Not funny,” you drawl. It was never a thought that crossed your mind that Stevie would go out, telling people of your current entanglement with Jamie. She’s an editor for a magazine company, and she has a problem telling you all the tips she gets about local celebrities, always trusting you not to tell anyone anything. You don’t doubt that she’ll do the same for you. “So I should tell him the truth, then?” you ask, getting back to the main point of Stevie’s visit.

“Mhm,” she replies. “Probably not today though, don’t you think? He’s overwhelmed enough as it is, he’s probably gonna be benched in Richmond’s next couple matches. That sad fuck is probably groveling as we speak. And he can’t even drink to cure the pain! … That’s how concussions work, right?” She shakes her head. “Anyway, don’t do it today. If I were you, I’d play it by ear, you know?”

You nod, having heard all of this from the doctor.

"And one more thing."

Stevie hums in questionn

“… He may have tried to kiss me.”

You think everyone in the neighborhood heard Stevie’s screech when she belts your name.

It’s later in the day when you ring Jamie’s doorbell. You’d successfully shooed Stevie out of your house, convincing her that she does not need to spy on you from your kitchen window in case Jamie tries to make a move (“I’ll be there in two seconds, ready to make that concussion worse. Just say the word.”). And now you have the soup in two tupperware containers, as well some carrots and dip in your tote bag because that’s what Jamie originally always used you for, right? The familiarity will hopefully make him happy.

When he opens the door, you’re not surprised to see all the lights are closed, as well as his curtains shut (so much for Stevie spying). The only thing you see that’s shedding artificial light is the lamp by his staircase, but even that looks as dim as it can be.

“Hey, love,” he says groggily, a certain warmth to it that makes the nickname seem more intimate. He rubs his eyes as he moves to create room for you to come inside. “Sorry I took so long. Took a bit of a nap.”

“Oh,” you frown, concern taking over the nerves of his sudden pet names, “I’m sorry for waking you. I can just drop these off and head out, if you’d prefer?”

Jamie shakes his head. “Don’t be silly. Come in.”

You enter apprehensively, though you’re trying your best to conceal it. This is the second time ever that you are in Jamie’s home. And it’s only been a day. The strangeness of that fact lingers in the air as you close the door behind you.

You trail behind him toward the kitchen, your footsteps quiet against the hardwood floors. Various football plaques litter the walls, as well as many, many photos of Richmond’s team.

“Why don’t you go sit down?” you say as you simultaneously take in his home. “I can prepare these myself and bring them to you.”

“Rubbish," scoffs Jamie, "I’m still mobile, and I’m not leaving my girlfriend to take care of me like you’re some sort of maid. I’m not bedridden.”

The word girlfriend, once again, catches you off guard, and your heart does a funny little stutter. You push it aside. “I just don’t want you to exert yourself,” you reason, brows furrowed. “You’re concussed, Jamie.”

“Who cares about that?” he jokes, waving off your concerns.

Your jaw clenches. You want to say I care. Because this concussion is affecting you more than you fucking know. But you bite your tongue, and instead ask him where he keeps his bowls and silverware.

Minutes later, Jamie and yourself are sitting on his couch. You took the liberty of sitting on the opposite end of his sofa, taking up as little space as possible. You’ve tucked yourself into the far corner, legs curled up slightly, trying to occupy as little room as possible. Jamie, on the other hand, lounges comfortably, his socked feet propped on the edge of the coffee table, though his posture is slightly more relaxed than it was earlier. You’d ask Jamie if it would be okay to crochet while you’re here, mainly so you can have something to do instead of sitting there awkward with today’s events before you.

So, soup now resting on Jamie’s coffee table (you stop every few moments to take a bite), you’re intent on the rose petal you’re making with your yarn. Jamie alternates between eating his soup and watching you, his gaze unashamedly direct, though there’s a softness to it that makes your heart flutter despite yourself.

To anyone else, the scene might look endearingly domestic: the two of you sharing a quiet moment in the living room, him eating soup, you crocheting, the occasional exchange of lighthearted banter. But there’s an underlying element to it. You don’t want to tip-toe around Jamie, because you’re supposed to be acting natural and all, but it’s hard.

“You’re the most thoughtful thing ever, you know that?” he says, after a minute of silence.

Your hands pause mid-stitch, your eyes staying fixed on the delicate yarn in front of you as you decide how to respond, stomach churning nervously. “A ‘thing’?” you joke lightly, a small smile tugging at your lips. “How very gentlemanly of you.”

“You know what I mean!” chastises Jamie.

Fighting the butterflies in your stomach as his words settle warmly around your heart.

“I do know,” you reply softly, finally glancing up at him. “Why do you say that?”

“The rose you’re knitting—“

“Crocheting.”

“Crocheting. Sorry, love. How many are you making for the old bloke’s grandson?”

The moment you take in Jamie's words, you pause, crochet hook in the air. “What?”

Jamie looks confused. “Mr. Taylor? That his name?”

You shake your head, mind still reeling. “No, I know who you meant. How do you know I’m making this for his grandson?” You don’t recall telling that to Jamie when you initially mentioned what you wanted to do here.

You currently have half of a rose petal done, wanting to make something special for Mr. Taylor grandson—Roman. The young toddler is allergic to flowers, getting all sniffly and itchy when you had brought over a hand-made flower arrangement for the Taylors (it had been their 37th wedding anniversary). But Roman had just kept looking at the flowers with such curiosity, despite his body’s affinity for them. When you had decided to take up crocheting (you wanted to make tiny plant plushies yourself—because why are stuffed plushies with cute faces on them so expensive these days?), one of the first things you learned was to make stuffed flower arrangements, just for when Roman would visit.

How could Jamie possibly know that?

“Because you’re you,” says Jamie. Blush coats over his cheeks lightly when he averts his gaze from hers, hand moving to scratch the back of his head.

“… And," he begins, "one day, I was in me car and I saw you walk over to the Taylors’ house with crochet roses. ‘Made it look like a nice arrangement, too. I wanted to ask you why you had fake flowers when you have fucking millions just in your front yard. Didn’t know if that’d sound weird, though, so…” he trails off, his words getting quieter, “So, I may have asked Mr. Taylor instead.”

You try to recall the memory Jamie spoke of. You do recall the last time you had headed over to the Taylors with the signature bouquet. Jamie had been at the front of his house, getting into his car. Of course she had noticed him immediately, spotting him just by her peripheral vision, but she hadn’t decided to spare him a look until she crossed the street to look back, but he had been preoccupied. She didn’t even think he saw her that day.

That day had been nearly three months ago.

Your mouth falls open. Jamie had noticed and asked about you that long ago?

Jamie glances at you nervously, mistaking your silence for something more negative. “I’m not some creep or anything, promise! I just—I dunno—I was curious! You’re always doing stuff like that.”

You shake your head. “I just never knew you noticed,” you mumble, your nerves growing. Even now, he remembers. You wish you knew what that meant for you two; you wish that the suspicions and hopes in your brain are true. “Or asked.”

Jamie’s cockiness kicks back in at your flustered nerves. “Like I said, I’ve always noticed you. And now I get to be the luckiest guy.”

Your eyes meet his. For a moment, you let yourself pretend. Pretend that this is real—that this is the relationship you and Jamie have built together. That you’re a couple, and this is just one of those moments you get to stumble upon—a sweet realization that Jamie had liked you long before either of you dared to admit it.

You let yourself hold on to the fantasy, just for a moment.

It has to be just a moment... you think if you stare any longer at Jamie your body is going to take over and grab him for a kiss, just to know what it may feel like. You just know you shouldn’t.

“Four,” you say softly. “I’m making four for Roman.” You turn back to the stitch you had laid on your lap, trying to get out of your frenzie and into your zone.

Jamie smiles, eyes still twinkling. “That’s his name? Roman?”

You hum. “He’s about to turn four. And he’s just the most adorable kid I’ve seen.”

“I’m being rude, aren’t I?" replies Jamie, "Prodding.”

Your head snaps up. “What? No.” You uncomfortably shift in your seat to hopefully look less odd. “Sorry if I’m being weird. I’m just… zoned out, I guess. Thinking a lot.”

“Yeah?” he says, staring at you intently. “What about?”

“Just… everything about today, I suppose.”

Jamie jokingly smiles. “Yeah, getting a call that your boyfriend got whacked in the head and is now concussed wasn’t really in your daily plan, was it?”

You let out a laugh. “No, it wasn’t.”

“It got in the way of watering radishes, I bet.”

Again, you laugh more, your stomach moving steadily at the action. From the limited conversation you’ve had with him, paired with now, you’ve deduced that Jamie is just a complete pro for lightening up conversations. When your heart races nervously, a quip comes out of his mouth that makes your body go back steady. You don’t even think that this is an individual experience; he seems like he does it a lot. You wonder how that balance comes so perfectly in his life.

“Yeah,” you laugh. “My gardening has to come to a pause today.”

“It’s a shame,” he says, grinning. “Would’ve loved to see you in your cute sunhat, or the giant yellow gloves you always wear.”

Your eyes widen at his words.

Seeing your shock, he adds, “You think I don’t notice these things? I always have.”

You try not to cough up the food you’d just digested. You would like to consider that Jamie is just making things up, but the description of your usual accessories when you’re out tending to your plants remain true. The giant yellow gloves belong to your mom, and there hasn’t been any reason to buy new ones if you’ve already got a pair.

And the sunhat—well, it’s not everyday you’re seen out with it. It’s usually if the sun ever comes out, glaring at your eyes while you try to focus on a task at hand. You’ve probably brought it out maybe a couple of times since Jamie had moved in next to you; none of those times being as of recent.

It’s a shock Jamie can even recall it.

He remembers the little things. I always have.

“Fuck,” he mutters softly. “Have I creeped you out? Don’t mean to sound like a prick, but I thought what I said was pretty fucking cute. But I understand if it’s creepy again. I don’t know. I’m sorry.”

You shake your head. “No, Jamie, I’m not creeped. ‘M kinda just shocked that you notice things like that.”

He shrugs. “It’s hard to not pay attention. You live right beside me. And you’re you. It’s pretty fucking impossible for me not to notice things about you.”

Your heart is back to racing. All of Jamie’s confessions of things he’s noticed can only insinuate that he’s genuinely seen things about you, whether he had gotten hit in the head or not. They’re not fabricated in his mind from his belief that you two are dating. He’s not like Holy shit, do you remember that time we had dinner together? You think if he started recalling specific memories that never happened, you’d check him straight into the nearest mental institution.

But he’s saying things that are so undeniably true; things he’s noticed about your being.

If you aren’t already so conscious and confused of the actual problem at hand, you’d sit here and pretend that he’s yours—just as much as he claims to be. You wish this moment to be real, but it’s not. The sadness and guilt that weighs over you with that fact can overtake any other feeling in this moment.

“Jamie,” you begin, “I need to tell you something.”

You think about Stevie’s advice, to not tell him today. The doctor saying not to overwhelm him. You know they’re right. You don’t want to. The poor bloke is probably already stressed enough as it is. You want to be here for Jamie, to help him get better because even with your limited experience around him, you care very deeply about his wellbeing. And maybe your feelings are skewed by the crush you’ve been harboring on him, but that’s hardly the point anymore.

But how are you supposed to keep this up? Pretending to be someone you’re not, filling a role in his life that isn’t truly yours—it feels wrong, no matter how much you want to help him heal.

You don’t think you’re cut out for pretending.

Jamie looks at you expectantly, a small smile on his face and your heart just breaks.

“Jamie… I don’t know how to say this,” you admit, your throat tightening. “But I’m not your girlfriend.”

For a second, Jamie looks beyond confused. “The fuck? Did we break up?”

“I got the call today,” you explain gently, shrinking down into the sofa with a racing heart. “When I heard you were in the hospital, I was worried—God, I was worried—but I didn’t understand why they called me. And then Roy said… he said we’d been going out.” You bite your lip, carefully choosing your next words. “It made me realize something had gone wrong. That maybe you hit your head and got things mixed up.”

Jamie doesn’t say anything, his brows knitting together as he processes your words.

“I wanted to do what was best for you,” you continue, your voice growing quieter. “Everyone kept telling me not to startle you, not to stress you out. But I can’t keep pretending we’re in a relationship when we’re not. It doesn’t feel right. It doesn’t feel honest. “I care about you, Jamie. I care about you getting better. But I can’t pretend, okay? I’m really, really sorry.””

It’s been nearly two days since you’ve seen or heard from Jamie. You’d practically bolted after your admission, your chest tight with guilt and your hands trembling as you no longer felt worthy of being in his home.

You hadn’t looked back, and he hadn’t stopped you.

It’s all you think about as you sit in the kitchen with your morning coffee, trying your best to catch up on the emails about work that have been piling up while you wallow.

Your work is interrupted when the doorbell rings.

You immediately think it’s Stevie; she’s been wanting to see you since you had texted and said that you couldn’t even last the night without telling Jamie the truth. You purposefully left out the parts where Jamie pointed out the crocheting for Roman, and the gloves, and the sunhat, and Jamie just noticing you. God knows Stevie will be the first person to jump up and say he’s in love with you, and you’re not ready for that delusion in your head to be spoken out into the universe.

Especially after Jamie has not spoken to you since. He’s probably freaked out, never wanting to speak to you for as long as he possibly can.

You close your laptop and head to your front door, not even bothering to check who may be on the other end because—duh—it’s Stevie.

Only, it’s not her.

Instead, three boys stand on the opposite end of your door, gaping at you from the moment you lay eyes on them.

They look vaguely familiar to you, and judging but the sweatsuits they’re wearing with the AFC Richmond logo, they’re Jamie’s teammates. You swallow your anxiety and give them a confused look.

“You’re real,” the man in the middle says, tall and broad with a commanding presence..

“Shut up, bruv,” the man to the right elbows the other. “We don’t even know if it’s her. ‘Could be the girl two houses down…”

“Mi amor,” says the final man, eyes light. His warm, melodic voice is unmistakably Spanish, holding up a bottle of wine like a peace offering. “What’s your name?”

You frown, wanting to ask so many questions when a shout intercepts the trio that has lined up at your door.

“Oi!”

They boys all turn, and you manage to peek your head out the door, to see Jamie stomping down the steps of his home, clad in sweats and… cow slippers?

Despite the grumpy set of his face, the sight is almost endearing.

“Jamie!” the trio chorus in unison, like they’ve been caught red-handed.

“You didn’t answer the door,” one of them says, “we figured you’d be at your beautiful lady’s.”

“Don’t mean you can go knocking on doors of people you don’t fucking know,” huffs Jamie, finally reaching them. He doesn’t spare you a glance.

The boys look ashamed. “We’re sorry, bruv,” says the tallest one, voice gruff and guilty. “Dani made Birria tacos, and Colin’s brought fuzzy socks. I just wanted to say sorry for whacking ya.”

Jamie’s eyes soften at his words. He sighs. “Thank you, mate. I appreciate it, I really do. But I stand by what I fuckin’ said. You can’t go knocking at random doors.”

“But it’s not random!” says the boy you’ve deduced to be Colin. For the first time since they’ve knocked, he turns to you in acknowledgement. “It’s lovely to meet you!”

“The flowers are gorgeous,” says Dani, eyes g;azing dutifully at your front lawn. “And we apologize for the interruption.”

Jamie nods at them, like a mother watching over their child at the playground after a petty fight breaks out.

You grin, awkwardness dissolvong. “It's okay. And—I love birria tacos, by the way. Good choice.”

Dani blushes. “I’m sure Jamie wouldn’t mind sharing it with his lady. Wouldn’t you, Jamie?”

Jamie sputters, looking between the boys, and sparing you the first glance since he’s got here. His mouth opens, then closes. Repeatedly.

“Um,” you interject, “I would much rather let Jamie enjoy it. Thank you, though!”

Isaac frowns. “That’s how you’re gonna treat your girl?” he grumbles at Jamie.

“She said it!” argues Jamie. “Not me!”

Isaac shakes his head, muttering something under his breath about no chivalry these days, but he claps Jamie on the shoulder. “Alright, bruv, we’ll get outta your hair. Just make sure you enjoy the tacos. And, uh…” he glances at you with a cheeky grin, “Be nice to your lady, yeah?”

Jamie groans, pinching the bridge of his nose.

Colin pipes up, “It was lovely meeting you!” His voice is warm and genuine, and he flashes you a smile before jogging after Isaac, who is already halfway down the steps.

Dani lingers a moment longer, holding out the wine bottle to Jamie. “You deserve this,” he says with a knowing smile, his gaze flicking between you and Jamie.

Jamie takes the bottle “Thanks.”

“And don’t worry, we won’t knock on any more random doors. Adiós, mi amigos!” Dani trots after the others.

And then it’s just the two of you.

“‘M really fucking sorry ‘bout them. I didn’t think they’d come knocking at your door when I decided to fucking ignore them.” He stares down at the endearing cow faces at his feet, sighing.

You shrug, a harmless smile tugging at your lips. Jamie looks awfully nervous, which you don’t understand. “Makes sense, honestly. And I don’t mind. Now that you’re here, though, I just wanna ask how you’re doing.”

He looks briefly surprised. “I’m doing alright,” he says eventually.

“Okay, because I never intend to pry, but I’ve just been pretty worried. And—“

“You don’t need to pretend to care.”

The abruptness of Jamie’s cutoff has you wondering whether or not it actually occurred. His frown, however, only solidifies that those words did indeed come from his mouth.

“Excuse me?” you reply, voice sharper than intended.

“Listen, I was a fuckin’ idiot and a borderline creep to you. When you left, I really thought about it and how fucked up that whole day was. I can’t imagine how it made you feel; being put into a position where you had to be in a relationship with me.”

You frown. You wonder now if this is why Jamie has chosen not to speak to you; if his guilt for the situation has kept him from reaching out. You refuse for that to be a reality.

“Jamie, are you serious? I just wanted you to be okay! And that’s still what I want for you.”

His eyes peek up from his slippers to you. “… So you don’t hate me?”

You laugh. “I have no reason to hate you, Jamie.”

“You have every reason to believe that I’m a stalker-creep, by the way!”

You raise an eyebrow. “Do you want me to see you as one?”

“Obviously fucking not!

“Then stop trying to drill it into my head!” you laugh.

Jamie stares at you for a moment, his mouth opening and closing like he wants to argue but can’t find the words. Finally, he lets out a long sigh, running a hand through his hair. There’s a flicker of vulnerability in his expression, softened by the small. And, for the first time in days, the tension between you feels like it’s starting to ease.

“If it’s not obvious,” he begins awkwardly, “I like you. A lot.” He laughs at himself. “Enough to reach stalker status. And clearly my fucking fantasies wanted to take over with me fucking head… but I wanted to do it all the right way. ‘Kinda cheated didn’t I?”

For the first time in two days, the churning in your stomach isn’t anxiety, and instead something entirely more manageable. You grin at him, teasing, “Maybe a little.”

He huffs a laugh, the sound a mix of relief and something hopeful. His eyes meet yours, more sure now, though his voice remains gentle when he says, “I want to do it right. All of it. If you’ll let me.”

The way he looks at you—open, expectant, like he’s giving you the choice and trusting you to give the truest response.

Your smile says everything he needs to know.

(You already know Stevie’s going to lose her mind when you tell her.)

#ted lasso #jamie tartt #jamie tartt x reader #jamie tartt x you #jamie tartt imagine

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