#and you all know how i am I HAVE TO HAVE THE RIGHT COLORS

[lpham2525]

Fey and Firstborn

NOTE: I was inspired to write a Twiyor fic based on the above script fic! Special thanks to deluxeloy!

Loid knew better than to be traveling the Fey Mountains, especially not at twilight, when the Fey were most active. But unlike most other people, who avoided the magical creatures, Loid needed to find one of the Fey, and since the Fey were liminal creatures—somewhere between Fairy and Human—it made sense that they were most likely to be out and about at that ethereal, in-between time of day and night.  

Of course, like all others who sought out the Fey, Loid was desperate. His mother, the last of his family that had survived the war, was wasting away. They had been taking care of each other for the past ten years, but after she had fallen ill some months ago, Loid was afraid he might lose her.  

He had already tried everything: gathered and combined and concocted every herbal brew and potion for her, knocked on neighbors’ doors to ask for advice, consulted every physician and apothecary, tried every remedy he found from the books in the libraries. Nothing had worked. She was fading fast and he needed to do something before...before it was too late.  

Which is how he found himself in the Fey Mountains, having heard of how the Fey granted wishes to mortals willing to pay the price.  

Finally, Loid reached the correct location: a small glade that was filled with roses of all colors and sizes. Rumor had it that roses grew here all throughout the year, even in the coldest winters. His timing was right, too: twilight. 

And there she was, the Fey of the mountains. She was crouched over one of the rose bushes trimming something, her long, dark hair obscuring most of her face. 

“Excuse me,” Loid said, hoping not to scare her. 

Too late. With a scream, she whirled around and almost sliced his face in half with her gardening shears.  

“I’m sorry! I’m sorry!” both of them cried as they leapt back. Once his heart rate had returned to normal, Loid tried again.  

“Pardon me, but would you happen to be the Fey of the Mountains?” 

“Y-yes,” the Fey responded, “One of them, anyway.”  

Loid was a little more than surprised by her demeanor. He had heard that the Fey were a powerful, proud race, and didn’t take kindly to humans surprising them.  

This one, however...this one was different. With a cascade of gleaming raven hair and deep crimson eyes, she fit the description of Fey beauty, but her personality was...shy. Anxious, almost.  

Nothing spoke of the pride and condescension he had heard about the Fey folk.  

Could it be that she was just as nervous as he was?  

“Good evening,” Loid said, bowing to her. He decided it was best to be polite to her anyway, especially considering he was asking for her help. “My name is Loid, and I’ve come to speak to you about something dearly important to me.” 

“I’m Yor. Um, please have a seat,” she said, gesturing to one of the large, flat rocks in the glade. 

Once Loid had told Yor his story, he quickly opened his bag. “I’d be willing to give you anything I have,” Loid said, in case she was debating on whether or not to accept his request. “I don’t have much money, but I could repay you through labor or...” 

“Well...” the Fey began hesitantly. “I have no need for money or labor, but what I would really like is...a child.”  

“A child?” Loid didn’t know why he sounded surprised at this. It wasn’t unheard of for a Fey to demand a firstborn child as payment for their magic, but the way this Fey had asked for one seemed as if she expected him to say no immediately.  

“Y-yes,” Yor said nervously. “You see, I’ve been by myself ever since my brother moved away, and no one will let me adopt a child since I’m a Fey and...”  

Loid held up his hand. “You don’t need to explain. For the health of my mother, I am willing to give you my firstborn child.”  

Yor stared at him in shock. “You...you really mean it?” she asked, breathless.  

“Yes,” Loid confirmed. While he found it no great sacrifice to give his firstborn child to this strange and beautiful woman, a part of him suddenly found himself wanting to raise this child with her.  

But no, he told himself, dispelling the thought. Most likely, he would not see her or the child anymore once the baby was given up.  

“Deal,” he said, holding out his hand.  

Yor stared at it for a moment, as if afraid he might jerk back his hand at the last moment, but then she gingerly took his hand and shook it.

“Very well. When you return home tonight, your mother will be in pristine health again. It will be like she never fell ill at all. Even the memory of her suffering will fade...” 

“Thank you so much. She means everything to me.” 

“I know,” Yor said, remembering the pain and despair in Loid’s eyes as he related the story of his ailing mother. “Let's hope the price wasn't too much for you after all... Only time will tell.” She rose to leave, but the next words out of Loid’s mouth stopped Yor in her tracks.  

“So, when do we start?”  

“...If I could ask you to elaborate?”  

“You said you wanted my firstborn.” 

“Yes? And you agreed?”  

“Yeah, so, when do we start?”  

The Fey stared at him, her lovely features pinching in confusion. Then her eyes blew wide as his meaning sank in; she blushed as red as her roses. “Ah...”  

And that’s how Loid returned home with not only a Fey wife, but his firstborn child already on the way.  

Even years later, people still whispered about Loid’s journey to the Fey Mountains. How he left to find a cure for his mother and how she miraculously recovered on his return home. How he had surprised his mother with a wife that was not only ethereally beautiful, but incredibly kind. How their firstborn had hair as pink as roses and eyes as green as the Fey Mountains in springtime. How she was an unusually perceptive child, seemingly able to know the thoughts and secrets of everyone, just by being near them. And how they all disappeared one day, spirited back to the Fey Mountains, some say, to live out the rest of their lives in the Fey World.  

Although every so often, people say that one can still see glimpses of the family at twilight, talking and playing and laughing together. And wherever they were glimpsed, pink roses always bloomed there the next day.  

Human: Deal.

Fey: Very well. When you return home tonight, your mother will be in pristine health again. It will be like she never fell ill at all. Even the memory of her suffering will fade...

Human: Thank you so much. She means everything to me.

Fey: I know, I know. Let's hope the price wasn't too much for you after all... Only time will tell.

Human: So, when do we start?

Fey: ...If I may ask you to elaborate?

Human: You said you wanted my firstborn.

Fey: Yes? And you agreed?

Human: Yeah, so, when do we start?

Fey:

Fey, blushing: Ah.

[shiningjustforreid]

stains

glimpses through fem!reader and Spencer’s relationship, through four instances of spills.

word count: 3.5k ish

a/n: i love the idea that for some of us, our personalities are made up all the things we like about the people we know and see. the idea that we’re all little bits and pieces of the things we love, and our experiences. this sort of explores that. (also this was mildly self indulgent because much like reader i’m a klutz!) <3

warnings/tags: 18+ for implied intimacy and canon typical violence for cm, pet names up the wazoo, reader is lowkey clumsy, Derek Morgan being himself, reader gets injured but she’s fine, who’s Maeve?, anxious love confession, Spencer adores reader so so much, S1 and S6 (ish) Spencer, Spencer in and post prison, love letters, marriage, kids, and briefly mentioned pregnancy, girl dad!Spencer Reid my beloved

- ✩ -

coffee - the first stain

To be honest, at first, he’s appalled.

The mug you set down on his desk isn’t his, so God knows whose mouth was on it last. You - somewhat carelessly - plopped it down on the file he’s working on, grinning that thousand watt smile he’s secretly become fond of. You’re wearing a sweater he noticed that brings out your eyes - a berry colored wool garment that he wishes you’d wear more.

“Hey! Morgan said you were exhausted. Thought I’d make you coffee.”

You pick it up, and set it down again, for emphasis, and a few drops make their way down the side and onto his case file, surely creating a cinnamon toned half circle that Hotch will not love. You don’t notice, watching his face.

“I made it with a bunch of sugar. Just how you like it, right?”

Suddenly, he realizes he’s been staring up at you, and then his mouth is moving faster than his brain.

“Yeah, I uh, I am pretty tired, now that you say it. Didn’t sleep well, long night, you know?”

You nod, sipping your own coffee, fingers wrapped around the ceramic.

“I get that. Goes with the job, right?”

“Oh, absolutely, yeah, I- wait, Morgan said that? Did he— what else did he tell you?”

You grin, coffee mug to lips again.

Stop staring, Reid.

“Nothing, really. Just said you needed a boost. Thought I’d provide.”

Titling your head a tad, you look down, a mild panic crossing your face when you see you’ve stained his file.

“Oh my God - Reid, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean-“

He’s quick to shake his head, hands coming up to reassure, his eyes wide.

“No no no, it’s okay, truly, I-I made a mistake on that one anyways. I’ll need to have a new copy printed, honest.”

Frowning, you look him over, searching for a tell, something to let you know whether he’s lying or not.

“Are you sure? I can do it, I’m not that behind on mine, I could—“

Before he thinks - you’d assume, with all his brains, he would - his hand grabs your arm, that gorgeous sweater under his finger tips, his eyes locked with yours. He says your name, once, his tone more serious than he’d like.

“It’s okay. Thanks for the coffee.”

You blink, and then a slow grin takes over your face.

“You’re welcome. Let me know if you need more.”

For a moment, neither of you move, the heat of his hand burning through the wool on your arm, until he lets go like you’re the one scorching his skin, like he’s just realized that he’s touching you. You laugh a little, awkwardly, and he grins with the same level of unpracticed nerves, and you head back to your desk.

He picks up the mug, and sips slowly, closing his eyes for a moment - it does have a mountain of sweetness, the saccharine liquid coating his mouth but soothing his senses. When he sets it down again, it’s on a part of his workspace not occupied by case work. Just as predicted, the file that once housed the beverage now bears a semi circle of dried java. His pointer finger traces the stain, clockwise and then counter, for a moment, before he glances up in horror to see Morgan, of all people, signature smirk in place.

“‘Thanks for the coffee’. I don’t what’s sweeter, that coffee you just got or-“

“Shut up.”

He mumbles, face flushed, small smile on his face despite the teasing. He traces the coffee stain one last time before he hastily tucks the soiled paper away in a drawer.

blood - the second stain

“What do you mean you aren’t getting a response from her on comms?”

He’s so scared, he can’t even stop to think just how breathless and afraid he sounds, as he turns to Hotch, who fixes him with a look that clearly says, Calm down, Reid.

“It could just be non-functional, or got knocked off, or caught.”

Hotch says calmly, almost maddeningly so. Spencer swallows back the protests, the arguments that swell up in his throat like bile.

They’d created, and given the profile, and once Penelope had narrowed down the couple possible properties their potential unsub owned, you, Morgan, and Prentiss had headed into an abandoned storage facility, silent and careful.

Perhaps not careful enough.

The voice in his head reminds him, almost sadly, and he grits his teeth inside tightly drawn and chapped lips. Shaky hands smooth over his slacks, again and again, as his eyes stay fixed on Hotch.

“Ask-ask Morgan again. If she’ll respond.”

He’s given a frown, dark brows pulling together in a very typical Hotch-like manner.

“Is there a specific reason you’re asking about her, Reid?”

Is there? God, he doesn’t know. You bring him coffee nearly every morning, but perhaps that’s just kindness. Then there’s the chocolate sprinkled donuts that start his work day from time to time - maybe you just enjoy pastry treats, and think of him, when you buy one. Oh, and heaven forbid he forget the way you’ll come by his desk, and ask for clarification on a piece of paperwork or a procedure - that you probably could’ve asked Hotch or Prentiss about. You listen, active listening too, eye contact, body still - when his explanations turn into rambles about statistics about this type of criminal, your eyes watching his face, your own voice quiet.

Is he deluding himself? Seeing phantom romance where there’s maybe merely nothing but platonic affection? Blinking, once, he shakes his head in response to his Unit Chief’s question.

“No Hotch. I’m just worried, she-well, she hasn’t responded, and Morgan has, and Prentiss has, and I—“

Speak of the devil, Morgan’s voice comes through, demanding and tense.

“I need a medic. Prentiss and I secured the unsub, but, not before—“

Oh God. Not before that bastard got to you with a baseball bat, to the back of the head, you unaware before your face met the concrete below. Spencer’s not even asking for permission, snatching the keys to an SUV off the desk nearby and flooring the gas pedal.

You can’t die. Not before I—

Driving there is like hell - his lungs burn like there’s smoke and ash polluting them, and fear feels like too tame a word to describe the overwhelming panic that seizes his heart the more he drives.

I’m a fool, he thinks wildly, as his knuckles grip the steering wheel like a vice. A damn fool if I don’t tell her-

He’s barely got the thing in park before he’s scrambling out the driver’s side door, Converse immediately coated from the dusty ground outside the facility.

When he finds Morgan, and you, head lolled to the side, eyes closed, face pale as his must be, he falls to his knees with little regard for his own pain or discomfort. Morgan watches, careful, his voice gentle when he speaks, trying to calm his terrified friend.

“She’s still out, Reid. Just a nasty whack to the back of her head, okay? Easy.”

Trembling thumbs trace and hold your face, like it’s made of paper, as he swallows hard to keep the ache behind his eyes from becoming tear tracks down his face. He spots the gash, trickling crimson down your ashy skin, onto his shaking hand, but doesn’t move from holding your face. A deep contusion, furious and violet-toned, on the back of your head, makes the air leave his chest like he’s been choked.

Beautiful girl, I couldn’t stop this.

He could sob, and he nearly does, until you make some sort of confused noise and force open your eyes. Light rushes through his heart, rekindled warmth as he meets your eyes, and yet, he finds himself almost frozen.

“Spencer? What, I thought-“

“Listen to me.”

He forces himself to speak - he has too. What if he doesn’t get the chance, and all he ever gets to associate you with is caffeine, sprinkles, and a listening ear? No, that won’t do. Not in the slightest.

You meet his eyes, hazy, but listening. Morgan’s brows furrow, as he protests,

“God, man, she just woke up, let her-“

Ignored, as Spencer often finds himself doing when there’s more pressing matters than banter, than propriety.

“You need to know. That I-care about you.”

Blinking, you swallow, and suddenly, the throbbing pain in the back of your skull is slightly dimmed.

“That I can’t let another sunrise or sunset go by where you don’t know that I’d give you the stars if you’d let me. Where I can’t touch you, where I can’t make sure you understand that I’ll protect the light you have inside you until I’m burnt from it. You absolute angel, I-“

He shudders, almost afraid of his own earnest, and says your name like it’s a prayer.

“I love you. Even if you don’t return it, my heart is yours.”

Morgan’s grin is wide, and he shakes his head, almost in amazement. Your own face is flushed, as you hear sirens and medics, your voice crackly and rough from pain, but still, that smile he’s grown to associate with his heart fluttering graces your face.

“My heart is yours, Spencer. Glad you’re finally realizing how absolutely in love I am with you, you goose, even if it took all this.”

He laughs a little, almost deliriously, and smooths his trembling hand over your face.

“Guess the doughnuts weren’t enough, huh?”

You manage, and he shakes his head, quick to push back.

“They were. You’re always enough for me, no matter what you do.”

Could he sound any more smitten?

Procedure says he can’t go in the ambulance with you - there’s no need, you’re just getting stitches and some ice and he can visit you at the hospital, okay? But as he heads back to the - oh dear, still running, he really was in a hurry, wasn’t he? - car, Morgan glances sideways at him, signature smirk in place.

“Pretty boy, I didn’t know you had it in you.”

Spencer stares down at his hands in his lap. They’re stained, and a grimace floods his face when he realizes it’s not dirt, but your blood, coating his fingertips. A soft sigh escapes his lips, and he bites back a nastier retort than his friend deserves.

“I guess I did. I can’t believe it took-“

Morgan sighs, stopping Spencer’s inevitable incoming guilt filled rambles.

“Hush. You told her. That’s what matters.”

Glancing down at Spencer’s fidgeting hands in his lap, he presses on the gas.

“Let’s get there, so you can get that off you. I’m shocked you got all dirty, with your germ thing.”

Spencer shrugs, looking out the window.

“For her? I’d-I think I’d do anything. No matter what it stained.”

Soap finds his hands at the hospital, but he finds you soon after, unable to stop the gentle press of his lips to your forehead, or the soft murmurs that follow as he tries to remind himself that much more of your blood didn’t spill.

ink - the third stain

Emily has to physically hold you back in the court room, when they take him out, his eyes fixed on you, and the team, almost hopeless.

“Then your client is a flight risk.”

You’re quite literally fighting her, suddenly terrified in a whole new way for your boyfriend, tears staining your face.

“Bail is denied.”

She’s got both arms wrapped around you, her soft, ‘I know’s, and ‘I’m sorry’s barely heard over your own pleas for her to let you go.

“Defendant will be remanded to federal custody pending trial.”

You hear someone sobbing - angry, fear-filled wailing - and until Emily has you turned around, your face in her shoulder, comes the realization that it’s you.

“He’s-Emily, what are we going to do, he’s not going to be okay, I-I can’t—“

The days that follow are dark. Going to the BAU without Spencer, let alone waking up without him beside you, is enough to send you into a spiral. You try to remind yourself that he’s worse off, that whatever hell he’s experiencing is ten times worse than your quiet fear and loneliness. So, to try to combat the weight that squashes your heart, you write him letters. Daily letters.

Spencer -

We have a case in Florida. Emily says it’ll be quick, but the Florida ones never are. We’d solve it ten times faster with you, you know? Geographical profiles are much harder alone, that’s for sure. The plane ride is quieter without you, and no one’s saying anything - you’d be saying something if you were here. Maybe that’s why we’re quiet. ♡

Every day. You don’t relent. If you can’t mail them in whatever town you get stuck in for work, you mail them in one big envelope when you get back home.

Spencer -

That case was rough. I cried twice - once when I spent over two hours staring at the map at the precinct and couldn’t find anything new, and once when Rossi accidentally snapped at me. He said he was sorry, that he’s ‘on edge’ right now - but aren’t we all? Emily’s working really hard to try to get you home. I wish I could come see you. I hope you’re safe. I love you. ♡

When you learn that he didn’t put you on the list of people who can visit him in that concrete hell, you almost lose what’s left your nerve, breaking down in Emily’s office, shaking. You don’t know whether you’re furious, in despair, or numb to it all.

“Emily, why? Why doesn’t he want me to come see him? If it was me, I’d want to see him every day, I wouldn’t want him to leave!”

She sighs, her face tight. Twisting your hands in your lap, you search her face for answers. Nausea claws at your throat.

“Honestly, my guess is it’s just that. He knows that if you come, he won’t want you to leave. It’ll hurt too much.”

“But Tara, and you, and his mother, and-

Spencer -

I think I understand. Sort of. I feel like there’s this pressure in my chest, and I can’t ever fully breathe. Not since you’ve been away. The weight on my heart never goes away. Missing you more every hour. ♡

Despite the slew of handwritten letters that reach him, you only get one back, after you and the team search his apartment - you keep it in your purse pocket, folded safe, and read it whenever your throat feels tight and your eyes burn. His untidy scrawl is enough to make you feel like a part of him is actually inside this letter - like he’s reading it himself to you, interwoven in the fibers of the paper.

Angel -

I wanted you to know I’m in solitary now - I made sure of it. I know you want me safe, almost more than I do. I love you beyond what I can say, my beautiful girl.

Yours, Spencer.

One night, you’re curled up in Spencer’s apartment, writing him a letter, as is your nightly routine. The ink stains the side of your hand now - an ever-present reminder of the fact that your heart constantly feels ripped out of your body. After addressing the letter to him, your phone buzzes - Emily.

Oh God.

“Hey. We figured out that- oh, you don’t care about all that. He’s coming home.”

She doesn’t need to tell you twice. Paper and ink pen tumble to the floor as you shove your feet in shoes and snatch your jacket off the coat tree. Tension is coiled in your body the entire way there. Ink still stains the side of your hand, a permanent reminder that every time you needed to just tell him something - you had to pick up pen and paper.

Heart in your throat, you push open the door with shaking hand. There he stands, your Spencer. He’s still him, you think, although his face is tight, and sleep clearly hasn’t been something he’s seen much of.

Three months.

You walk in slowly, body trembling. One hand reaches up, runs through the curls that have grown so long.

“Your hair.”

You breathe out, voice barely audible. He nods, his face almost impassive. Tentativel fingers trail down his cheek, make a path to hold his face. He nods, and then, you notice his eyes are misty.

“My angel.” He murmurs, almost in awe, and takes you in his arms with a fervor. Crushed against him, face buried in the cool fabric of his shirt, you bite back a sob, arms threaded around him.

“No. Cry, my darling girl, I’m— I’m tired of doing it alone.”

How could you refuse him? Just hearing his voice, let alone the relief you feel at being touched by him again, is enough to satisfy you for days, you think. For a bit, all that’s heard is uneven breaths, until he speaks, his voice rough and shaky.

“I need to see your face.”

He pulls back, face shining with tears, and you swallow back the lump that just won’t leave your throat.

Calloused hands - less soft than you remember - take yours, and then he frowns.

“Your hand.”

Your right hand is held up, inspected, like the blue on the inner side of it is red instead. You smile, laughing a little, still breathless.

“Ink, baby. Just ink. I was writing you a letter.”

He shakes his head, rubbing at the navy stain with his thumb, as if that will remove it.

“I would’ve kept writing. Never given up. You’d be sick of letters from me.”

“Never, sweet girl. There is no part of me who could ever find himself sick of you.”

After you’ve home, he wastes no time in pressing less than tender kisses to your mouth and jawline and the column of your throat. It’s not until he’s reacquainted himself with your contours and the dip of your hipbones and the soft way you gasp out his name when he does that, that has you next to him, so he can see your face.

He needs to see your face.

Hand in his, still faintly stained from ink, he examines it, and then, softly, hesitantly, he meets your eyes.

“You know ink poisoning is actually rare? Pens we use are designed with non-toxic ink, to decrease any chances of fatal ingestion.”

You never mind his information sharing, but your eyebrows furrow tiredly at his timing.

“Spence, I’m not saying I don’t care, but we just— you just—”

“Please. Let me look at the woman I love and pretend for a few moments that my damn eidetic memory won’t play back the last three months of my life like some wretched tape.”

You let him, as he holds your cobalt-colored hand and your eyes droop, his soft voice telling you that rubbing alcohol will probably get that stain out. It almost feels normal.

Almost.

paint - the final stain

“Spence! Can you get paint water out of carpet with any amount of ease?”

You call your husband, turning back to your mildly sheepish five year old, whose water color adventure on the coffee table has quickly done south.

In walks Spencer, not even noticing the overturned hard plastic cup or purpley-blue spill, eyes going straight to his daughter’s nearly finished picture.

“Beautiful, Penny. Looks incredible.”

He murmurs, bending to be eye level with a beaming Penelope, hand on her arm, before turning to you, mild tension and stress lining your face. His smile is gentle. It’ll wash out.

“Rubbling alcohol, angel.”

You nod, tension easing from your shoulders.

“We’ll go get it - we always clean our messes up, right lovely?”

He asks your daughter, lifting her with practiced care. She giggles, nodding, as they head from the room, letting you take a breath and set up the paints and picture in a new location - the kitchen table, with some newspaper tucked underneath because she’s five, and you of all people know spills happen.

Once she’s set up again - she really is so quiet when she’s engrossed in something - you find yourself curled up with Spencer on the couch, head on his shoulder, watching her paint and sing-song to herself.

“Think she’s lonely?”

Spencer asks, turning to you, his grin wide.

Troublemaker.

“Hmm. I think you just like me pregnant.”

He chuckles, pressing a kiss to your hair.

“Maybe. Maybe I don’t want Penny to be sad, ever.”

Silence, then, for a bit.

“She’s so much like you.”

Spencer muses, his fingers drawing patterns on the side of your sweater. You smile, fondly.

“You say that because I’m clumsy. She was dancing around with that paintbrush, that cup of paint water stood no chance.”

“No, I say that because she shines like you. No matter what tries to dim her.”

That night, when you peek in your daughter’s door to see Spencer reading her A Little Princess, she’s propped up against him, hazel eyes barely open. Affection swells in your chest as his voice carries on, even though she’s clearly almost in dreamland. In you walk, pressing a kiss first to her forehead, then Spencer’s. He smiles gentle up at you - this is his favorite time of the day - and keeps reading.

“Perhaps there is a language which is not made of words, and everything in the world understands it.”

Once you’re back in the living room, you check on the earlier spill from today. All that’s left is a barely visible blue spot, no bigger than a quarter.

“No one will see it but you.”

Steadying, warm arms wrap around your ribs, and soft lips press against the side of your neck, washing away any insecurity about the state of your carpet.

“Besides, stains aren’t bad, sweet girl. They’re little reminders that things happened, good things, or bad things that brought us together. Memories, attached to splotches, attached to wounds, to paper, to skin. How convenient, to carry our most impactful moments like heaven-sent tattoos.”

[snowysosturn]

Fire & Desire - Matt Sturniolo Part 10

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10

Pairing: Y/n x Matt Sturniolo

Summary: Y/n has always clashed with Matt. Despite working for Chris’s clothing brand and being close with Nick, her relationship with Matt has always been tense at best. While being forced to be around each other more, their animosity turns into something deeper. Can they overcome their differences, or will their fiery emotions tear them apart?

Warnings: MDNI, angst, tension

I woke up the next morning at 9.30 am, pulling the eye mask over my head as the sunlight flooded in my entryway. Stretching, I let out a yawn and checked my phone. Still no response from Matt. Not that I was expecting any after being left on read.

Brushing it off, I got up and threw on my slippers. Nick and I we going shopping at 11, and the idea of getting out of the house lifted my mood. But first I needed coffee, desperately.

I dragged my feet downstairs to the kitchen and made myself a quick breakfast, scrambled eggs on toast and coffee from the Keurig. Simple but enough to wake me up. While I ate, I doom scrolled on my phone, pausing every so often to read back over my messages with Matt. Still no reply.

I don't know why it frustrated me, I guess I just wanted answers. I rinsed my plate, set it in the dishwasher, and headed into the bathroom to get ready. It was nice to not feel rushed or that I was bothering Matt by taking my time in here. The hot water from the shower was just what I needed. I stayed under longer than usual, it was a small luxury, but I enjoyed it.

After finishing up and drying my hair, I walked back up to my room, pulling open my closet. My eyes immediately landed on the yellow Ralph Lauren jumper Nick had given me yesterday. I threw it on and paired it with my favorite jeans and white sneakers. I glanced at myself in the mirror, adjusting the jumper. It was slightly oversized but felt snug in all the right ways. I sprayed my perfume over myself to finish it all off.

“Perfect” I muttered to myself before grabbing my bag.

Nick opened his bedroom door, ready to go with an eager grin on his face. “Ready to spend some money?” he asked, holding Chris’ card up.

Nick ordered an uber and suggested we check in on Nate to see if he needed anything while we were out. I followed him down the stairs to Chris’ room. Nick gently knocked on the door before peeking inside. "Still out cold" he whispered, shaking his head with a small grin. I glanced past him and saw Nate sprawled across the bed, tangled in Chris’ blanket, looking completely unbothered by the world. 

"Kids on a two day hangover by the look of it, what did you do to him?" Nick laughed, closing the door quietly before turning to me with a shrug. 

"Don’t ask me, maybe he just can’t keep up like I can. Let’s just get him some snacks anyway, he’ll probably appreciate them when he finally wakes up."

The uber arrived an we hopped into the car, the Uber driver was really friendly and even let us have AUX. Nick seized the opportunity and started blasting one of his favorite playlists. The drive to the mall was filled with his off key singing while the driver laughed. It was impossible to be in a bad mood when Nick was like this, completely carefree and full of energy.

We arrived at the bustling mall, and I was instantly reminded of how much I loved and hated these places. The endless options were both exciting and overwhelming. Nick, of course, was in his element.

“Okay, first things first” he declared, clapping his hands together. “You need a suitcase. Like a good one, something sturdy.”

I followed him through the luggage section of a department store, pulling at the endless rows of suitcases in every size and color. I settled on a large suitcase in a turquoise shade. It was light but durable, with smooth wheels and plenty of compartments for organizing.

“This one feels very.. you” Nick said, wheeling it toward the register. “Now we just need to fill it"

Next, we headed to the clothing stores. The first thing to look for was swimwear. I sifted through racks of bikinis, one pieces, and cover ups while Nick hovered nearby, occasionally pulling something out and holding it up.

“This is cute” he said, holding a bright coral bikini against me.

“Too bright” I replied, shaking my head.

“You’re going to Hawaii! Bright is the point.”

We compromised on a mix of neutral and vibrant pieces, including a black one piece with a scoop back and a yellow bikini that Nick insisted matched the jumper he’d given me.

From there, we moved to outfits. Sundresses, flowy skirts, tank tops, and breathable shorts for getting in and out of the pool all made their way into my shopping bags. A wide brimmed sun hat and a pair of oversized sunglasses were also thrown into the mix.

“You’re going to look like you’re in a Vogue ad with those on” Nick teased as we passed the checkout.

“Let’s not get ahead of ourselves” I shot back, laughing.

The last thing on our list was footwear. I grabbed a pair of comfortable sandals and white sneakers that would pair well with most outfits. Nick talked me into buying a pair of wedge heels “just in case” I wanted to dress up a bit fancier for dinner.

With every bag we accumulated, the excitement for the trip grew. Nick carried most of them without complaint, weaving through the mall like a man on a mission, while I lugged the suitcase behind me.

“Shit” he said.  “We forgot toiletries. Let’s go.”

We loaded up on mini shampoo bottles, sunscreen, bug spray, and anything else that could fit into the clear bag at security. I also grabbed a neck pillow for the flight and a small blanket.

“I think we went a little overboard” I admitted, looking at everything we had.

“No such thing" Nick replied, starting the engine. “You’re going to Hawaii. You deserve to look and feel amazing! Now, shoes again” Nick declared.

“But I already got shoes” I protested.

“You don’t have these shoes” he said, dragging me into another store.

Before I knew it, I’d added a pair of espadrilles and waterproof slides to my collection. At this point, I was sure I had enough to outfit myself for a two month long trip, not just two weeks in Hawaii.

“Okay” Nick said, stretching dramatically. “I’m starving. Let’s get food.”

We headed to a nearby bistro that had outdoor seating. The warm sunshine paired with the scent baked goods was heavenly. I ordered a chicken and cheese sandwich, while Nick opted for a salad.

As we waited for our food, Nick checked his phone and grinned.

“Chris’s phone is dispatched” he said. “Should be here later today.”

I raised an eyebrow. “Finally. It’s been so weird not being able to get in touch with him directly.”

Nick nodded, taking a sip of his iced tea. “Yeah, I’d say Matt doesn't know what to do now that his phone actually gets messages.”

The mention of Matt and messages nearly makes me turn red.

“What time are they getting home today actually?” I asked, trying to sound casual.

Nick shrugged. “Sometime later tonight. They booked a nighttime flight.”

I nodded, trying not to read too much into it. The food arrived, and we dug in, enjoying the rare moment of quiet.

After finishing our meal, Nick glanced at the mountain of shopping bags we’d accumulated and let out an exaggerated sigh.

“There’s no way we’re fitting this all in a normal car.” he declared, rubbing his temples dramatically.

I laughed. “You’re the one who kept saying, ‘Oh, just get it! It’s perfect!’”

He rolled his eyes. “And I don’t regret it one bit, but let’s be real. We need reinforcements, or at least a bigger car.”

Nick pulled out his phone and started tapping away. A moment later, he said, “Uber XL. It’s the only way we’re fitting all of this and ourselves into one ride.”

I nodded in agreement, looking at the bags around us. There were at least three overflowing ones just from the boutique alone, plus the suitcase we’d bought earlier that took up a ridiculous amount of space.

“Good call” I said.

Within minutes, a shiny black mini van pulled up outside the bistro. The driver stepped out, taking one look at us and our bags, and raised an eyebrow.

“Shopping spree?” he asked with a grin.

“You could say that” Nick replied with a chuckle. 

The driver helped us load everything into the trunk, which, despite being spacious, was a tight fit. Once everything was secured, we hopped into the backseat, relieved to finally be off our feet.

As the car pulled away, Nick leaned back and sighed contentedly. “I’m never going shopping without an Uber XL again. This is the only way to do it.”

I laughed, leaning my head against the window as we cruised through the city. My thoughts drifted to Hawaii and all the outfits I’d packed for, the sunshine, the beaches. I felt a little buzz of excitement, like maybe this trip would be exactly what I needed.

We arrived home just near 3pm. Nick pushed the front door open with his hip, three shopping bags dangling from each hand, I followed closely behind, lugging the suitcase and two additional bags. The sheer weight of it all, especially the suitcase made me huff as I maneuvered it over the step into the house.

We paused just inside, catching our breath, when faint voices floated down from upstairs. My ears perked up, and I immediately recognized the voices. Chris and Matt.

Nick frowned, glancing back at me. “Are they.. here?”

“Surely not?” I replied, adjusting my grip on the suitcase. “You said their flight wasn’t supposed to land until later tonight.”

Nick shrugged, then headed up the stairs. I struggled to hoist the suitcase up the first few steps, the wheels knocking against the edges of each one.

“Could use some help here” I muttered, but Nick was already out of sight, more curious about the voices upstairs than my struggle.

By the time I reached the top, dragging the suitcase behind me, I could hear Nick questioning the guys.

“What the fuck are you two doing back so early?” he asked, standing in the hallway with a confused look.

Chris grinned, arms wide open as he stepped forward and dramatically pulled Nick into a bear hug. “What, I can’t miss my brother and come home early to see him?”

Nick groaned but didn’t pull away. “Chris you were gone for two whole days. Seriously though. What’s the deal? You weren’t supposed to land until later tonight.”

Matt leaned against the doorframe of his room, arms crossed and looking mildly amused. Chris finally released Nick and laughed.

“Man, we were so hungover yesterday that we couldn’t bear the thought of sitting around Vegas all day today waiting for a late flight. So, we booked an earlier one before we hit the strip last night” Chris explained.

Nick shook his head, muttering something about impulsiveness, before turning back toward me. “You hear that? Weak.”

I smirked, finally dropping the suitcase with a thud. Chris glanced over at me, his smile softening.

“Hey, Y/n” he greeted.

“Hey” I replied, brushing a strand of hair from my face and wondering why seeing him felt like a surprise.

As Chris glanced around, he ran a hand through his hair. "Yo, Nick, have you seen my business card? I swear I had it before we left for Vegas."

Nick smirked, clearly trying to rile him up. "I have it" he said casually, glancing at me standing there with my brand new suitcase and an absurd number of shopping bags.

Chris raised an eyebrow. "Well, can I have it back, genius?"

"Maybe" Nick teased, then pivoted. "Oh, by the way, your new phone should be here later today. You’re welcome."

I stood awkwardly at the top of the stairs, fully aware of Matt’s presence just a few feet away. He hadn’t said anything yet, but the tension was undeniable.

Finally Matt’s voice cut through the air, his tone sharper than necessary. "What’s with the suitcase? You finally moving out?"

I blinked, caught off guard by his comment. Before I could respond, Nick jumped in.

"It’s for Hawaii" Nick said as he leaned against the wall, crossing his arms casually.

Matt’s confusion was obvious, his brows furrowing deeply. "Hawaii? You already have a suitcase that size."

Nick shook his head, grinning like he was about to drop a bombshell. "It’s not for me, Einstein. It’s for Y/n."

Matt turned to me, his expression instantly hardening like he’d just been sucker punched. His eyes widened slightly, and for a moment, I swore he looked genuinely hurt.

Matt’s jaw tightened, and he looked like he wanted to argue but couldn’t find the words. His eyes flicked to me again, unreadable, before he straightened up and shoved his hands in his pockets.

"Wow some trip this is going to be then." he muttered before disappearing into his room, the door closing behind him, quiet but firm.

The hallway felt colder, and I avoided Nick’s gaze, pretending to fiddle with one of the bags. Chris, oblivious as ever, clapped Nick on the shoulder.

"Alright, where’s my card?"

Nick laughed, shaking his head. "Not so fast, bro. You’re helping me unpack this stuff first."

As the two of them headed off upstairs, I stood there, staring at Matt’s closed door, feeling a wave of something I couldn’t quite name. Guilt? Frustration? Maybe a mix of both. But I quickly shook it off and grabbed the suitcase, dragging upstairs toward my room and telling myself not to overthink it. Once everything was up in my room, Nick dropped his load dramatically on the floor, letting out an exaggerated sigh.

"Alright, that’s my good deed for the day" Chris said, brushing his hands together like the work was done.

"You’ve been so helpful" I said sarcastically as I started sorting through the bags.

Chris smirked, leaning against the doorframe. "You going to pack tomorrow?"

Nick shook his head. "Nah, we’re starting to pack now. No point in waiting till tomorrow morning and rushing."

Chris raised an eyebrow, watching me open the suitcase and start placing clothes inside. "If only I was that organised" he laughed, walking further into the room. His eyes immediately went to the Fresh Love samples hung up by the closet.

He stepped closer, tilting his head to get a better look. "Woah" he said, running his fingers lightly over one of the pieces. "These look even better in person. The photos don’t do them justice."

I glanced over at him, feeling a bit of pride in his compliment. "Thanks. I really like them.”

Chris nodded, a grin spreading across his face. "I ordered some personalized samples for us all to be delivered to our villa in Hawaii. Thought we could take some pictures out there for a night time shoot, maybe use them for promos. I got us all varsity jackets with our initial on them, and then some other pieces I thought everyone would like."

Nick perked up at that, clearly impressed. "That’s such a good idea! Especially since it's cold at night" he said, nudging me with his elbow.

I smiled at both of them, my chest swelling a bit with pride. "I guess it wouldn’t hurt to get some shots out there" I admitted, picturing how amazing the pieces would look in a tropical setting.

Chris picked up one of the sample pieces, holding it out. "Yeah, these are gonna kill it. People are gonna go nuts over this drop."

I nodded, the excitement of everything bubbling under the surface. For the first time in a while, I felt like things were coming together, and the thought of getting to share it in such a beautiful setting made it even better.

Chris set the sample back on the rack and stretched, letting out a small yawn. "Alright, I’m gonna go check in with Nate" he said, glancing toward the stairs. "He was still knocked out when I peeked into his room earlier. Probably still recovering from your crazy night out."

Nick gave him a nod. "Yeah, sounds about right.”

Chris chuckled. "I’ll catch you guys in a bit." With that, he turned and headed out of the room, the sound of his footsteps fading as he made his way downstairs.

Nick, without missing a beat, grabbed his pile of shopping bags and suitcase and walked toward his own room, which was right next to mine. “I’m leaving the door open so we can pack together. This way, I can judge your packing skills and make sure you don’t leave anything important behind."

I rolled my eyes but laughed. "Oh, because you’re the authority on packing now?"

Nick grinned as he disappeared into his room, propping his door open so we could still talk. "Absolutely. I’m a seasoned traveler, unlike you. I’ve got the technique down to a science."

I could hear him rustling through his bags, muttering about how he might need to pick up another pair of shorts before we left. Meanwhile, I started folding my clothes neatly into the suitcase. 

Nick's voice carried over from his room as I heard the distinct sound of a zipper being tugged open. "Alright" he began, "Let’s see what we’ve got here. Swim trunks, check. I brought the neon ones this time.."

I laughed, picturing him strutting around in the loudest pair of swim trunks he could find. "You really need neon to stand out? Thought your personality did that already."

"Ha ha" he shot back. "No, but seriously, you’ll thank me when you’re trying to spot me in the ocean. Anyway.. tank tops. Got a few new ones, including that white one you said looked good. Oh, and my black button up for dinners. Can’t be showing up to a nice restaurant looking like I just rolled off the beach."

The sound of him rifling through bags grew louder. "Flip flops, sneakers, maybe I should bring those prada loafers.. what do you think?"

 "Definitely bring the loafers for dinners. You’ll regret not having them."

"Good call" he replied, tossing them into his suitcase. "Alright, what else? Oh, sunscreen, got the high SPF stuff this time. Learned my lesson after that beach trip last summer. And hats! Gotta protect this money maker " he added, gesturing dramatically at his face.

"You’re ridiculous" I said with a laugh.

"Ridiculously prepared" he corrected. 

I shook my head, smiling to myself as I continued to fold my clothes. "You sound like you’re moving away for good, not going on a vacation."

"Hey!" he called out, "you’re gonna thank me when you’re borrowing my stuff because you forgot something."

"Bold of you to assume I’d forget anything" I shot back, neatly placing my toiletries into my bag.

Nick peeked his head into the hallway. "Care to make a bet on that?"

I smirked. "We’ll see."

I glance around Nick’s room one last time, making sure he isn’t about to burst out again with some last minute comment, but all I hear is the sound of him collapsing onto his bed. “Alright, I’m taking a nap. All that shopping has me worn out” 

I laugh at how dramatic he was, and closed over his bedroom door to let him sleep. I zipped up my suitcase and placed it in the corner of my room.

Now in silence, I sit on the edge of my bed. The small envelope from the flowers catching my attention, sitting on my bedside locker. It feels like it’s mocking me, just sitting there like some unsolved mystery. My fingers twitch as I pick it up, turning it over in my hands. Why does something so small have such a big hold over me? I hate how awkward everything feels now again, how one card and a few unread messages can mess with my head so much.

But I can’t go to Hawaii like this. I’m actually excited for the trip, and I’ll be damned if Matt is going to ruin it for me with this unresolved weirdness.

Acting on impulse, I shove the card back into the envelope and stand up. My heart’s pounding as my legs move before my brain fully catches up. Next thing I know, I’m marching down the stairs, the envelope clutched tightly in my hand like a lifeline.

The closer I get to Matt’s door, the louder the rush of blood in my ears becomes. The house feels strangely quiet, the kind of stillness that makes you hyper aware of every movement. I stop just outside his room, hesitating for a second. Maybe I should think this through, figure out what I’m even going to say. But before I can overthink it, my hand is already on the door handle.

I push the door open without knocking, stepping inside before I can change my mind. Matt’s sitting on his bed, scrolling through his phone. He looks up, startled, as the door swings open.

“Uh, hello?” he says, raising an eyebrow. “Ever heard of knocking?”

I ignore him, taking a step closer. “We need to talk.”

“About what?” he says, crossing his arms. “That you’re stealing Chris’ money and my clothes now?” He says, pointing at the yellow jumper I have on me.

Fuck this is his jumper.

No wonder the scent was familiar.

I take a deep breath, trying to not show how awkward I felt.

"About this. And about whatever game you think you’re playing." I say, holding up the envelope.

a/n: i <3 cliffhangers

taglist : @mattybearnard @sturn-33 @ncm9696 @yourfavsturniologirl @crazy4jewel @sodakid1234 @stupendoustreewinner @lovealwayssturniolos @matthewsturniolosss @m4ttsmunch @loveexxx @ilusa @starkeyszn @wonnieeluvvr @dylnblue @valxrieq @maggot3647 @cigarettecemetary @ribread03 @chrisstvrns @bandasaruswrx @noplaceissafeanymore @amexiass @witchofthehour @mattssgf @jetaimevous @v33angel  @ivysturnss @urmom69lol @ashlishes @watercolorskyy @sturnioloshottiekay @amelia-sturniolo3 @imjusthereforthesturniolosmut @pvssychicken @alizestvrnss @chrisstxrnsaxe @sophand4n4 @vickytaa @marrykisskilled @bxtchboy69 @yourfavsturniologirl @julisturn @sydneyylainn @sophia-77n @trevorsgodmother @sturnslutz @yourmother29 @girl24cherry @astronea @pinkdyit

[t-a-a-1]

Counting Stars

Pt.2: The Wait

TFP Optimus x Female Reader

Summary: After revealing to Optimus that you are carrying his sparkling, he convinces you to stay under the Autobot care. However, after the sudden appearance of an old lover of yours, Optimus faces difficult challenges as he tries to win you back and learn how to prepare to be a father at the same time.

A/N: Lots of yearning, jealousy, delusions, craving, fluff. All that good stuff.

4K

Counting Stars

Pt.2: The Wait

There is a clear difference between carrying a sparkling and dying. 

You weren’t sure which one you were doing.

Everyone was treating you like you were about to perish. Everyone has always been careful around you. But now they are extremely aware of you. Every step you take, breath, look, smell, nothing was too insignificant. 

“You shouldn’t be carrying that.”

“Maybe you shouldn’t eat that.”

“Maybe you shouldn’t go there.”

The autobots treated you like a doll. Although the thought sounds amusing, it really wasn’t. 

“I just want to go for a drive. I’ve been inside for two weeks. I need to get out.”

Bulkhead moves his helm from side to side. He was  the third bot you asked about going out. 

“What if we crash and you get hurt?” 

You knew he was making up an excuse to not take you for a drive. Because what kind of Autobot would be such a bad driver?

“I am a human! I need the sun and see pretty things or I’ll get depressed and die!”

“Can you just watch the sun and pretty things on TV?”

Crossing your hands in front of your chest, you huff, showing your clear satisfaction. 

“I am sorry (Y/N) but you are carrying the only sparkling Cybertron has seen since millennials. If you weren’t having our species’s only hope, I would be more lenient.” 

Bulkhead’s voice sounds apologetic. You know that he was telling the truth. Maybe they all missed hanging out with you but couldn’t do much due to current circumstances. 

“I am being serious. I need to go out.” you say looking at the bot. “I’ll seriously die.”

You were exaggerating but you didn’t know until how much you could last without going crazy. 

“Well, maybe we can wait until Optimus is back and hear what he thinks.” Arcee steps in, trying to see if she could alleviate the situation. “You know, so no one wants to get in trouble.”

“Prime isn’t even around.”

A simple talk couldn’t fix everything. Although you and Optimus were in speaking terms, you wouldn’t say that things were the way they used to be. Things were still awkward and tense between the two of you. 

“You need to understand him, he is also going through biological needs not seen eons ago,” Ratchet speaks up while still typing on his large computer. “He is nesting for you and the sparkling, he can’t control it and he is trusting us to keep you safe while he is away.”

“Oh so you care about his biological needs but not about mine? I see how it is.”

“It’s not that, it's just–”

Ratchet turns to look at you. 

“Alright, maybe you are right.”

The medic-bot notices the color of your skin. It’s pale. Not in a natural way but in a sick-manner. Your belly has grown and you look tired. Mentally, you must be going through a lot. The weight of the survival of an entire civilization is on your shoulders and you are yet to know if the sparkling will be born healthy. 

“Only for 30 minutes.”

.

.

.

Optimus was able to satisfy his biological needs only after he found ten dandelions. It was extremely hard to bring them to base since they were delicate and were easy for its tiny petals to crumble. He had found several but would have to go back and look for more since most would lose their petals on the way. 

He also found some pretty rocks. He wasn’t sure which one you would like most so he brought all of them. 

“So you are here to stay with (Y/N) for the rest of the pregnancy?”

His olfactory sensors picked a familiar smell. A human one but it was none of the kids. It was a scent he wasn’t fond of. One he very much wished did not exist. 

“Yes, as a Special Agent, I was assigned this duty. Which I am glad for, I want to spend time with (Y/N) as much as possible.”

Special Agent Alex. Fowler’s Co-worker and your childhood best friend. 

Optimus’ sensors were on alert. All of his instincts warned him. 

“Potential male threat detected. Human male may potentially steal sparkling and partner. Action Required: Keep human male away from mate.”

“May I inquire about your reasoning behind your sudden … presence without invitation?”

He didn’t waste any time as he walked towards the center of the hangar. His tall demeanor did not seem to phase the secret agent. 

“Hey, Prime! Sorry for not announcing it before,” Alex waved knowing that he would get more of a reaction out of Optimus if he pretended that his hostility does not affect him. “But I am just doing my duty. (Y/N) was originally supposed to be transported to a secured area under my watch. But since that didn’t happen, I’ll be staying here.”

“(Y/N) is currently protected by five Autobots at all times. She’s safe here and does not need your guarding.”

“That may be right but (Y/N)’s child is a matter of national security. I can’t let the Autobots have complete control over humanity’s first human-alien hybrid child.”

Optimus closes his servo, fighting the urge to smash the human like a mosquito. 

“My sparkling is no human experiment.”

“I am not saying it was,” Alex looks directly at Optimus’ optics. Unafraid. “What I am saying is that the child would benefit from having all the resources this world can offer. That child, no matter what it may be or look like, would be more human than Cybertronian. It will grow here. Learn our languages, history, traditions and culture.”

Alex smirks, about to deliver the final hit. 

“It’s not like there’s much to learn from Cybertron after all,” he says. “I may raise that child myself.”

Everyone could hear Optimus’ gun engine turn on, about to point directly at the agent. 

Until you showed up. 

“Alex?”

He immediately put away his weapon, pretending that he wasn’t about to harm a certain individual. He couldn’t do it, not after seeing the smile on your face. 

Not after you jumped into his arms, hugging him as he spinned you around. 

“Alert. Action Required: Eliminate threat. Keep human male away from mate. Alert.”

His processor telling him commands wasn’t helping the feelings in his spark. 

“You have always been beautiful but pregnancy suits you so well. It’s going to make my stay here all the more pleasant.”

Alex has always been a flirt.  But you never took it seriously. At least not now. You used to love the compliments during the time of your relationship. Years ago. 

“Are you staying here?”

You ask excitedly, in a desperate need of a friend your age. A human friend who would understand your need to get coffee and see the sunsets. 

“Yes, you won’t have to be lonely anymore,” Alex puts a hand on your head, giving you a soft head pat. An act Optimus was never able to do casually. Putting hands on you without consent in any way did not fit right with him.  “I’ll stay as long as you have me.”

“Yes! You can stay in my room!”

You seem to enjoy the affection. The agent gave you a certain warmness Optimus couldn’t give you and his processor is starting to write codes unfamiliar to him. 

“I am highly against that–”

“Alright, I’ll put my things in there,” Alex’s voice was louder than Optimus’ as he was closer to you. You were too excited to pay attention to the rising anger of the bot. “But tell me, where were you? I was waiting for you and got kinda worried.”

“I’ve been inside here for two weeks and Ratchet took me for a quick drive.”

“For two weeks? That’s not healthy for you and the baby, you need to stay active and get enough sunlight.”

“That’s what I told them but they wouldn’t listen to me.”

Everyone around you noticed your evident happiness that they didn’t mind the comment. You were right, they weren’t taking your needs into consideration. It was even more evident by the sudden change of your mood. 

“Well, from now on I’ll be taking care of you,” Alex moves his hand to caress your cheek. “And I’ll take you on regular drives and trips.”

“Do not touch my sparkmate–”

“Also I brought you a gift!”

He looks down at his backpack as Optimus’ voice subsides. Opening it quickly and showing the content inside it. 

“My favorite chocolate!” you take the pink box from his hands. It was an expensive brand and hard to find. Not available anywhere in the city.  “Thank you! 

Optimus quickly thinks of the things he got you. Dandelions, flowers, rocks. Would you love them just as much? Will you jump in excitement and hug him? Will you see him as fit enough to be your provider, protector and Sparkmate?

“Analysis Complete: Human Male wishes to bond with Sparkmate and steal Sparkling. Activating Sparkmate Protection Codes. Eliminate offering. Keep Sparkmate secluded.”

It’s like he couldn’t control himself. It was fear, confusion and jealousy that overtook his processor. 

Without any announcement, Optimus walks towards you and takes the chocolate box using two of his digits. You watch him with amusement, not understanding his actions. And without any previous warning, he crushes the box. 

The Autobots don’t say a word, flabbergasted at their leader’s actions. 

“I- I am–”

Optimus wanted to apologize but he was so surprised by his own doing that no words left his dermas. 

The room is silent for a few seconds until sobbing is heard coming from you.  Normally, you wouldn’t cry but your hormones have been acting differently, making you more emotionally sensitive.

You run to your room, Alex quickly follows by until the two of you disappear from the hangar. 

“Sparkmate in distress. Advance with caution. In case of Sparkmate rejection, proceed to program Offline codes.” 

Optimus looks at his servo. The pink chocolate box is destroyed. It was a nice gift. Delicate, gentle, genuine. And he destroyed it. All that was left was the result of his own selfish actions. 

.

.

.

He didn’t know how to approach you. Nor knew if he should. His processor was begging him to go talk to you. 

His pedes hang from the cliff as he sees the stars in the sky. Its a view Cybertron was unknown to.  His home planet, with all of its technological advances, unique traditions and indescribable views could never have this kind of beauty. Yet, it can’t compare to the delicacy of your eyes.

Hearing heavy steps walking towards him, he knows it wasn’t you. Most of the time, he couldn’t tell when you were approaching him, your steps were too small to be heard. Either that or he would smell your scent. 

“You know, the right thing to do is apologize, right?”

Arcee was not one to open up easily. That was something she had in common with Optimus. 

“It would be simple if I knew she would want me to,” he responds, seeing the motorcycle sit next to him.

“... Are all male bots this stupid?”

“I believe so.”

There was silence but it wasn’t awkward. They didn’t need to talk to understand each other. Optimus is a great leader but somewhat stupid when it comes to relationships. It is of no surprise, however. Cybertronian and Human relationships are very different. Cybertron culture is more reserved, sometimes even completely political. As a species living for so long, it’s more about companionship. A long lasting friendship. Finding a Sparkmate was completely rare. Something not everyone would get to experience. 

Humans however … Due to their short lifespan, they were more prone to fall in love and out of love rather fast. 

“My processor has been programmed to do things I deemed as primitive for our kind,” he says. “Sometimes I can’t control it.”

“Then just tell her that,” Arceee puts a servo on his shoulder. Physical contact wasn’t common in Cybertron either. But he didn’t mind. “And apologize … a lot.”

.

.

.

You started to overthink. A lot. 

Optimus had feelings for you. Of that you were almost certain. You think ‘almost’ because now you weren’t so sure. 

Optimus would live for many years after you are gone. Maybe one day he will finally find the one, his Sparkmate. Where would that leave your child? He has told you that he will be responsible. But is he doing it out of duty or because he has love for his sparkling? You didn’t want him to believe that he is being forced to stay. 

It was a stupid thought. You knew that. But the thought still lingers in the back of your mind. 

“Prime is gonna kill me whenever he finds out I took you out of the base.”

It's always nice to get out of the base during the night. Especially with someone who saw you as an individual instead of just a ‘carrier and savior of an advanced robot race.’ He also drives nicely, not too fast, not too slow. Alex used to be a mechanic, his love for cars was always evident. Even as he drives, you can tell that this is all he ever wanted to do. 

“You know he won’t even kill a fly.”

“Yeah and that’s why it’s so fun to tease him.”

Alex tried to diminish the tension of the previous situation. He didn’t know why Optimus did what he did. But he feels a bit guilty for teasing Optimus as much. Maybe if he hadn't pushed him to his limits, he wouldn't have done such ugly act. 

“Can we go to the beach?”

You ask randomly. 

Alex smiles.

“Sure.”

.

.

.

When Ratchet informed him that you had gone on a night drive with Alex, he immediately went to your room. 

Why?

It was something even he couldn’t understand.

He knew he wasn’t going to find you there. 

Yet, his processor couldn’t understand how you weren’t here. He needs you. Now. His every circuit aching at the thought of you leaving his side. Carrying his sparkling and with a male who had successfully stolen you from his servos even if it's just for one night. 

He can still smell your scent in your room. Even after he had mass-shifted to enter, the room was still too small for him. He touched the bedsheets and began to miss the moments he has shared with you before in it. 

Where are you?

He needs you now. He needs to hold you, to know that you are safe. To express how much he adores you and the sparkling. 

“Sparkmate Status: Missing. Sparkling Status: Missing. Safety Status: Unknown. If Unable To Locate, Proceed With Solitude Activation Codes.”

He used his Comm-Link to call your cell phone. But nothing. He tried again. Nothing. 

It wasn’t until the 30th time that he understood … You didn’t want to be with him. 

You didn’t want him. 

You didn’t want him.

You didn’t want him. 

His servos tremble. 

Optics feel heavy. It’s strange. Having blue liquid come out of his eyes. He had cried before. For different reasons. This was pain, in its purest form. In a way words can’t describe. Proof of it were his subsided pleas of air as he had forgotten how to breathe, something he didn’t know he could do until he saw you. 

His spark aches. It hurts. Everything. 

Everything …  His everything is gone.

.

.

.

It was about a 10 hour drive.

Watching the sunrise was always a beautiful experience. Feeling the warm sunlight touch your skin energizes you. It made you forget the previous negative emotions and you began to have this strange yearning. 

For Optimus.

You wanted to be with him. Wishing he could  be here with you along with your unborn child. 

Maybe he had over reacted but knowing Optimus he probably has a good reason for destroying the chocolate box. Was he taking care of your weight? What if chocolate is toxic for sparklings? You wanted to talk to him and make things better–

Oh. 

You were right. You do need the sun. 

“Let’s build a sandcastle.”

Alex could sometimes be like a child, which was fun. There was never a boring moment with him.

“Let’s build an Autobot, instead!”

You let yourself touch the sand and immediately feel something moving inside you. It feels strange. It doesn’t hurt but feels very uncanny. Nonetheless, you smile as you put your hands in your belly. Your sparkling may be more human than you think, also enjoying the activity and fresh air. 

“Do you think will look like his father?”

You ask Alex as he tries to make a small square with his hands, using water from a water bottle. 

He looks at you and then down at his little project. 

“If the child were to live on Cybertron then I would prefer for them to look like Optimus,” he says, trying to think of a delicate way to tell you his opinion. “But since they will be living on Earth, then I genuinely hope they look more human.”

You know you will love the child no matter what. But Alex had a point. What kind of life will the child live if he is too different? Humans can be cruel, especially to those who are different. 

“If something happens to me … will you take care of them?”

He lets out a heavy sigh and looks at you again. His mood had been ruined but it was a question you were meaning to ask. 

“You know childbirth is difficult as it is and well, I am assuming giving birth to the first Human-Cybertronian child would be even more so.”

“You know we’ll have the best doctors in the world for that day,” Alex starts to mold more rectangular boxes as he stacks them up. Meanwhile you have started working on the head. “And if anyone can come out alive out of that it's you.”

He makes a pause and a small laugh escapes from his lips. 

“Besides, didn’t you fuck a 20 feet tall alien robot? You did that and came out fine. Childbirth should be a piece of cake.”

Without any notice, Alex’s mouth is filled with sand. You had thrown him a sand-ball and he started spitting it out and washing his mouth with the remaining water. 

“Hey! It's true!”

“Yes but you didn’t have to say it like that!”

“I don’t blame you, if Arcee would give me the chance, I would hit too–”

You throw more sand at him and he also retaliates. A sandy-battle unleashed as the wind was in your favor. Alex was gentle enough to only attack you below or above your belly. His ‘projectiles’ are extremely small compared to yours and between giggles and laughs, the battle continues until both of your hairs and clothes are covered with sand. 

And then, Alex’s phone begins to ring. 

.

.

.

“Where is he?”

The sun is still rising. The groundbridge could not stop time. But the time in California and Nevada were the same. 

You run towards Ratchet who is still by the groundbrige system, Alex close by.

“At the top, he is doing better now that I told him you were returning but …” The autobot medic pauses, not finding the right words to describe the situation. “I think you should go and see for yourself.”

You didn’t hesitate and made your way towards the rooftop. Of course, you didn’t run but you moved as fast as your pregnant body could. 

It was a good workout, you were losing your breath as you made your way to the elevator. If you had been in better shape, you would have taken the stairs. 

As you wait to arrive at the top, you could hear the beats of your heart palpitating against your chest. Overthinking is a talent of yours. Many stupid thoughts crossed your head. Thinking that Optimus was too angry at you for leaving the base without permission. You were ready to accept your punishment, whatever that may be. 

Instead, as you arrive at the top of the cliff, there are more questions than answers. 

You find big rocks, with a weight of more than a ton. Two rocks standing vertically and one on top of the two laying horizontally. Like a small house made out of giant rocks, enough space for a single Cybertronian. One that is around 20 feet tall, blue and red that turns into a truck.

Optimus is there but he is too busy spraying dandelions around his small house that he didn’t notice your presence. 

It wasn’t until he turned around that his optics shine in excitement. He almost runs towards but reminds himself to be gentle. Reaching out a servo, you expected him to hold you but he doesn’t he pulls away, using all of his strength to restrain himself. 

“I am glad to see you are safe.”

He says in a soft voice, the relief in his voice is evident and you feel the need to jump into his servos and be embraced by him. But just like him, you stopped yourself from doing so.

“I am glad you are safe too,” you tilted your body a little, your attention directed to the rocks behind. “Ratchet said you were acting … strange.”

Optimus also takes a look at his creation. He wished he could do better but its the best he could do with his limited resources. 

“Yes, you could say so.”

“May I ask, what is going on?”

He has been meaning to tell you but he doesn't know without getting nervous. He didn’t know how you would react. Will you think of him as weird? Disgusting even? But he can’t run away any longer. You are the sword and he is against a dead end with the only option being moving forward.

“Cybertron hasn’t had a sparkling in milenia so to ensure its safety, my processor activated primal codes,” Optimus says. “It makes me do things that may be antiquated.”

Not understanding fully, but if you had to come to a conclusion, Optimus may be going through something similar to animal mating rituals. Which is not so far fetched since Cybertron used to have Predacons before Cybertronians appeared. 

“Is that why you destroyed my chocolate box?”

“Due that we haven’t concluded the Conjunx Ritus, my processor doesn’t consider you as my Conjunx Endura yet, although I consider you my Sparkmate” Optimus blinks multiple times as he only does when he is nervous. “I identified Special Agent Alex’s actions as threatening to steal you and my sparkling.”

“Me?”

“Yes, although those reasons are more … intimate ones.”

Your heart beats faster as the sunlight reflects on his paint-job. He looks beautiful. You once again remember how incredible and extraordinary of an individual he is. There is no one like him in the entire universe and never will. You feel delighted to know that you are in his presence, being able to admire a side not one has seen yet. 

“Oh,” you look away after realizing you had been staring at him for too long.  “And that?”

You point at the rock structure and Optimus optics quickly follow. 

“After you left, I went to look for you at your private quarters,” he kept looking at the rocks and you wonder the struggles he had to go through to carry them to the top. “Not seeing you there activated my Solitude Codes.”

He walks towards the rocks, there are a lot of dandelions. Some of them died. Others are alive. There is some sort of yearning in his optics as if he belongs there. Its a sorrowful yearning, as if he was made to do something that he wishes to not do. Yet, he knows he would be skillful at it. 

“I felt the need to build this.”

“And do what?”

You ask, not wanting to walk closer as you thought that maybe you would be overstepping his boundaries. 

“Wait,” he answers. 

His back faces you. Not being able to see his faceplate, you can only tell how he feels based on his voice box’s tone. He just stands there, looking down. 

“For what?”

“For you to come back.”

He answers so longingly that it makes you almost shed a tear. For a moment, time stops. There is no wind, no sound, no scent, nothing. But just him. As if your entire world had become just him.  

“... And if I didn’t come back?”

He slowly turns to look at you. A soft smile, of  love. There wasn’t any desire in it. It was pure. Genuine. As he is in love with your soul and wishes to spend eternity with the thought of you. With your existence, whatever that was. To be one until the heavens and the earth collide. 

“I would wait until you do.”

And for a second, the Prime no longer was. But just a spark. In his purest form. His faceplates open, he wants to say something but it's lost in words. He had given up so easily. Realizing that he has yet to find the right words to express his love for you. A love so vast that not even the best poets or writers could ever put into paper. 

If he could go back in time and stop himself from becoming a Prime, he would. Because being an archivist would have made him more eloquent, maybe then, he could describe to you a small fraction of his endless adoration. 

“Prime–”

“Guys!” Alex came out of the elevator, screaming and ruining the moment. “Sorry to interrupt but we have a message coming from Megatron!”

He tilts his head outside the elevator, blue eyes staring at the two of you. Noticing that he interrupted a romantic scenario, he just pointed a finger at the two of you. 

“Prime we need you, please make-out quickly!”

And with that, Alex leaves as soon as he appeared. 

“Well, now that you are here, I won’t be using this,” Optimus walks towards you and bends down on one knee. He is still too tall but you appreciate that he tries to see you faceplate to face. Using a servo, he caresses your hair and your soft skin. With so much adoration and devotion. 

  “I don’t have much time but I realized I haven’t thank you yet for carrying my Sparkling.”

He wants to hold you. Craving it. He wishes he could have time to tell you more. To whisper in your ears sweet things. To read to you the most lovely of poems. To just rot in a bed, indulging in nothing but love. 

But he can’t. Not now. 

“Creating a new life with you has been the greatest honor of my life.” 

He stands up, walks past you. Leaving you at a shock, at a state of awe. 

“Now, let us go,” he says. “Some things can’t wait.”

He'll wait until you call him by his first name again.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

A/N: It was fun to write this. Optimus panicking and not understanding the changes he is going through. I think on this he has accepted that he may not win you back but that won't stop him from loving you and his sparkling. Meanwhile you are falling for him all over again.

I wrote this because y'all liked the concept for Counting Stars and supported it a lot! So thank you everyone so much for the support.

This was a one shot and I continued it because there was lots of love but I don't have a certain story-line. To be honest I don't know how to continue it.

For the next chapter (if there is one) I was thinking that Megatron accidentally sends Reader to the Dark Dimension where Reader meets Nemesis Prime. In this dimension, Optimus loses Reader and his Sparkling, transforming him into an evil being.

Meanwhile in Reader's dimension, Optimus is losing it. Slowly spiraling into madness at the thought of never seeing Reader and his Sparkling again. Destroying everything on sight, the Autobots fight to keep Optimus at bay.

The plot would end with Optimus and Nemesis fighting to see who would keep Reader.

That storyline would take around 2-3 chapters and it would conclude this story.

But that is just a thought, I still don't if I'll continue this since I really need to focus on writing the next chapter for 'The Darkest Hour'

And I am currently working on a oneshot bayverse Optimus fic too so please look forward to it!

Again thank you for reading and sorry for any spelling and grammar mistakes.

See You in the next story!

Previous:

https://www.tumblr.com/t-a-a-1/771132293279580160/counting-stars?source=share

[long-furby-marty]

1. Chipotle order?

Burrito with extra chicken. Perfect shape. 

2. Thoughts on veganism?

Some people just aren’t meant to be apex predators, good on them for admitting it. 

3. A specific color that gives you the ick?

Hot pink.

4. Mythical creature you think/believe is real?

Flesh furbies, the kind the mechanical ones were based on. 

5. Favorite form of potato?

Whole. Greased up and right down my gullet. 

6. Do you use a watch?

Nah. Phone in muppet hole. 

7. What animal do you look forward to seeing when you visit an aquarium?

Eels. 

8. Do you change into specific clothes for the house when you get home?

My cool sunglasses, back when I had them. I couldn’t fit them in my muppet hole (or even Flytrap’s!!) so I had to leave them on the side of the road with my Wii :( 

9. Do you have a skincare routine (and how many steps is it)?

I try not to get fluids on me, I don’t like having to get clean again. Do you know how hard it is to wring yourself out?

10. On a plane, do you ask for apple or orange juice?

I ask for milk. 

11. Anything from your childhood you’ve held on to?

Well right now I have nothing. But before I got kicked out, I collected littlest pet shop toys. 

12. Brand of haircare/bodycare/skincare that you trust 100%?

Blood. 

13. First thing you’re doing in the purge?

Killing Donald Trump. Second thing would be killing all the other Nazis. 

14. Do you think you’re dehydrated?

Probably. 

15. Rank the methods of death: freezing, burning, drowning.

Burning is the worst, then drowning, then freezing. 

16. Thoughts on mint chocolate chip?

I prefer pistach. There should only be one green flavour. 

17. An anxious compulsion you do every day?

Your mom. Gottem!

18. Your boba/tea order?

Broth. 

19. The veggie you dislike the most?

Fucking, lima beans, dude. They freak me out. 

20. Favorite Disney princess movie?

Cinderelmo 

21. A number that weirds you out?

Any number that sometimes has a line through it. 0,7, they’re doing too much. Oh and 4. Why is it written two different ways? Fuck off. 

22. Do you have an emotional support water bottle?

No. I’m not gen alpha. Wait, am I? Nevermind. 

23. Do you wear jewelry?

Yes, I have this lovely ribbon around my neck. 

24. Which do you find yourself using, American or British English?

Canadian. 

25. Would you say you have good taste in music?

Yes. The Chipettes are inspiring. 

26. How’s your spice tolerance?

In books or food? I don’t season my food. Books on the other hand…

27. What’s your favorite or go-to outfit?

My vip wristband when I had it :(

28. Last meal on earth?

CHICKEN!!

29. Preferred pasta noodle?

Egg

30. Ask me anything!

If I have an ask I'll send one like everyone else.

weirdly specific and unrelated asks to know someone well:

chipotle order?

thoughts on veganism?

a specific color that gives you the ick?

mythical creature you think/believe is real?

favorite form of potato?

do you use a watch?

what animal do you look forward to seeing when you visit an aquarium?

do you change into specific clothes for the house when you get home?

do you have a skincare routine (and how many steps is it)?

on a plane, do you ask for apple or orange juice?

anything from your childhood you’ve held on to?

brand of haircare/bodycare/skincare that you trust 100%?

first thing you’re doing in the purge?

do you think you’re dehydrated?

rank the methods of death: freezing, burning, drowning

thoughts on mint chocolate chip?

an anxious compulsion you do everyday?

your boba/tea order?

the veggie you dislike the most?

favorite disney princess movie?

a number that weirds you out?

do you have an emotional support water bottle?

do you wear jewelry?

which do you find yourself using, american or british english?

would you say you have good taste in music?

how’s your spice tolerance?

what’s your favorite or go-to outfit?

last meal on earth?

preferred pasta noodle?

ask me anything !

leave an ask for the person you reblog it from!

[multi-fandom-imagine]

What is your ideal meet cute for Fred and George? Or mistaking them as the other meet cute? (I love the twins)

A/n: I too love the twins 🤭

•Fred Weasley•

It’s the first weekend trip to Hogsmeade of the year, and the chilly autumn air is bustling with students excited to visit the shops. The Three Broomsticks is packed to the brim, with nearly every table occupied and the bar swarming with people ordering butterbeers. You, however, have just managed to snag the last empty booth in the corner, cozy but big enough to share if someone asks. You’re lost in your own world, flipping through a book you brought along, sipping your butterbeer, and completely oblivious to the chaos around you.

Enter Fred Weasley, juggling three butterbeers and a handful of snacks, heading back to where George is waiting at a table,except someone else has taken their spot while he was away. Mildly annoyed but mostly amused by George’s lack of table-saving skills, Fred scans the room and spots your table.

“Excuse me,” he says, leaning down so you can hear him over the noise. You glance up, locking eyes with his freckled face and mischievous grin. “You wouldn’t mind sharing this table, would you? My dear brother seems to have failed me as a table guard.”

You blink, startled but too polite to refuse. “Sure, I guess. As long as you don’t spill anything on my book.”

Fred slides into the booth across from you, setting the butterbeers and snacks down. “Wouldn’t dream of it. What are you reading?”

You hold up the cover, and his eyes narrow as he dramatically scratches his head. “Ah, yes. ‘Advanced Potion-Making.’ Riveting stuff. Do you read this for fun or…?”

“It’s for Slughorn’s essay,” you reply, smiling faintly. “But thanks for the sarcasm. Very refreshing.”

"Ah must be a Ravenclaw..could be the answer to me never seeing you." Fred grins, leaning forward giving you a wink. "You’re welcome. Oh...how rude of me. I'm Fred, by the way. I’d shake your hand, but they’re covered in crumbs from these suspiciously addictive pastries and you are?”

"I am in fact a Ravenclaw and I do know how you are Weasley. I think everyone at Hogwarts knows you and your brother." Your lips twitched into a smile. "But I'm Y/n."You stated and before you know it, the butterbeers he was meant to take back to George have been long forgotten as the two of you start chatting. Fred’s quick wit has you laughing, and your dry comebacks seem to entertain him just as much.

Eventually, George finds him. “So this is where you disappeared to,” George says, arms crossed but smirking. “If you’re done flirting, Fred, our table’s open again.”

Fred barely glances at his twin. “Flirting? Please, George, I’m merely making a new friend. And besides,” he looks back at you, his eyes sparkling, “our table is much better company.”

You roll your eyes, trying to ignore the warmth creep up your neck fiddling with the pages of the book. “You can go, you know. I won’t hold it against you.”

Fred shakes his head with a teasing grin. “I don’t think so. Someone has to make sure you don’t overwork yourself with all that potion-making nonsense. I’m staying right here.”

George rolled his eyes but the smile on his face showed he wasn't bothered by it as he gave his brother's shoulder a pat. "Alright mate...see ya back at Hogwarts."

And just like that, a chance encounter turns into the beginning of something far more exciting than a potions essay.

•George Weasley•

It’s the day before the school’s Halloween feast, and the Great Hall is buzzing with decorations being set up and students sneaking in early to help (or cause mischief). You’re perched on a ladder near one of the floating jack-o’-lanterns, carefully enchanting it to spit out harmless sparks in alternating colors. The first year's would love it and it's not like it's going to harm anyone.

Unbeknownst to you, George Weasley has decided this particular pumpkin is the perfect place to hide one of his new prank prototypes a harmless (mostly) enchanted bat that flutters out at random moments to scare passersby.

As you mutter the final part of your spell, the jack-o’-lantern suddenly jerks forward, shaking violently. Before you can react, a loud POP echoes, and a small bat leaps out, flapping wildly. Startled, you lose your balance and tumble off the ladder, your arms flailing as a small yelp escaped your lips.

Before you can hit the ground, a pair of strong arms catch you mid-fall. “Blimey, didn’t think you’d be part of the decorations too,” a voice teases as you’re set gently back on your feet. You turn to see George Weasley grinning at you, his freckled face brimming with amusement.

“That wasn’t funny!” you exclaim, though the heat creeping up your neck as you stepped a few feet away from him brushing off your skirt.

“Funny? No. Brilliant? Absolutely,” George replies with a mock bow. “I’ll take full credit for that bat well, unless it gets us both detention. In which case, it’s obviously my twin’s fault.” He gave you a wink.

You narrow your eyes at him but can’t help smiling as you fixed your yellow and black tie. “So you’re saying you sabotaged my perfectly good pumpkin just to test one of your pranks? Rude."

He gives a sheepish shrug, though the grin never leaves his face. “Sabotage is a strong word. I prefer ‘enhance.’...made it slightly better.Besides, it was a bit boring, don’t you think? Needed a little excitement.”

“You’re impossible,” you reply, shaking your head.

“But entertaining,” he counters, leaning against the ladder with a confident smirk. “Tell you what, I’ll help you fix it and maybe not rig any other pumpkins as long as you promise to join me at the feast tomorrow. Consider it my way of making it up to you.”

You blink at him, caught off guard by his forwardness. “You mean as an apology or because you think I’m gullible enough to trust you again?” You teased as you placed your hands on your hips.

“Bit of both,” he admits with a wink. “But I promise, no bats this time....pinky swear."

You can’t help but laugh. “Fine. But if you try anything else, you’ll be the one fixing all of the decorations.”

“Deal,” he says, offering his hand to shake, though the playful glint in his eyes suggests he’s far from done with his pranks.

And as you both set to work on repairing the pumpkin, you find yourself smiling more than you’d expected because maybe, just maybe, a little mischief isn’t so bad when it comes with a charming partner in crime, especially when he's as cute as George Weasley.

[celuere]

reader buying new lipstick and testing it out on arlecchino!!!

(except it’s by sucking her off <33)

also will you start writing for ptn? I LOVE ZOYA SO MUCH SOBS

anon it‘s 6:30 am but i can’t possibly go to bed without answering this. i‘m thirsting for sesbian lex. (i have to see about ptn tho sob)

cw: fem!reader, CONSENSUAL, deepthroating, sloppy headjob, dacryphilia, masturbating, a lil obsessive arle (she just loves seeing her wife struggle taking her dick)

„mhm… just like that… my, look at your pretty lips…“, a black hand gently stroked through your open hair before getting a good grip on the strands.

you looked so beautiful in her eyes.

not because of the pretty dress you were wearing to tonight. the deep red fabric clinging to your gorgeous curves and highlighting your cleavage almost a bit too much for her liking.

or because of the beautiful tears staining the corner of your eyes, the eyeshadow you applied earlier already smeared.

but you always looked like your most beautiful self when your mouth was full of her cock. she just couldn’t resist letting you have taste when she got a first look on your make up for the evening.

all because of that lipstick.

the bloody red had faded away long ago. the color now sticking to the skin around her base along with her shaft. not of very high quality if you‘re asking her.

„so pretty… all on your knees for me… what are those beautiful tears for, hm…?“, she scooped up the salty fluid with her index finger before bringing it up to her lip. tongue lapping over her skin as she hums at the taste of your current predicament.

your dress surely was ruined by now with how you were practically drooling over her dick with each thrust of her hips forcing some of the saliva-precum mix out of your mouth. you could feel your chin dripping with the mixture.

groaning slightly against her as her tip kissed back of your throat once more before inching further in, you couldn’t help but gag as her sheer size. but she kept you over her dick. kept herself neatly buried in your warm throat as something akin to obsession glistened in your husbands crimson eyes.

she will never get tired of this. never get tired of the way your nose crinkles slightly whenever it reached her bush. never get tired of your soft gags and the muffled sobs leaving your lips. never get tired of that pleading look in your eyes as she pushes herself inside your throat once more. you‘d have to kill her in order to remove her dick from you.

you had actually places to be. pantalone would be hosting an auction tonight and as his fellow colleague… who were the knave to decline his invitation? but now she had her wife all sobby and obedient on her knees for her, with your mixed slick covering yout gorgeous tits. she‘ll take that over an evening filled with idiotic smalltalk and greedy businessmen any day.

one of arlecchinos rare smirks tugged almost mockingly at her lips as she watched struggle to take her all in. and don’t think she didn’t notice how your own hand already sneaked between your legs. she knows exactly you’re fingering yourself right now. she just doesn’t know yet if she should punish your for it.

you squeezed your eyes closed as the grip on your hair suddenly tightened as you heard a low groan escaping your husband and soon the salty, bitte taste of her spread on your tongue as she pulled out from your throat. starting to cough as you swallowed the not so delicious mixture, a cursed hand soon squeezed your face and forced you to look back up into those bloody x‘s practically burning through you.

„open up. i want to make sure you swallowed everything.“, tapping your cheek with her nail you ran your tongue over your front teeth before reluctantly parting your lips. an almost pleased sound slipping out faster than you could have stopped it from how desperately your were clenching around your own fingers.

„i said open up and not moan into my face.“, she pushed her thumb into your mouth to force your jaw completely open before inspecting your mouth for any remains of her.

„good girl.“, obviously pleased with the results, your husband now let go of you and leaned over to your make-up desk.

you finally allowed yourself to fill your lungs back up with the oxygen you so desperately craved for, „d-done now…?“

„done?“, she bent back down to you when you spotted a light pink lipstick in her hand. she caught your chin between her finger and you could have sworn she almost looked excited as she painted your lips in said color, „this brand obviously wasn’t of high quality. i fear we have to try out the other ones until we find one that actually lasts. truly a pity, don’t you think so, m little dove…?“

you just wanted to open your mouth to talk back before she shushed you by tapping your plump lips with her dripping tip.

„open.“

[stardancerluv]

What the Emperor Wants

Part Fifteen

Summary: Revelations from the past, blessings move things forward.

Notes/Warnings: Angst, jealousy related to possible prior sexual activity, Invidia (goddess of Jealousy) mention of prior voice between Reader & another female servant, Blandus is a man who owned Reader, mentions of abuse from a father

❤️s, reblogs, feedback & comments are welcome! 💐 Let me know if you want to be tagged! 💐 Thank you for reading! 💐

You winced. You flinched.

“Sorry, my lady.”

“It’s ok.”

The pins pricking your skin were beginning to annoy you. You had never thought it would be this involved. When your older brother had been married, you were too young to be aware of all that was involved.

“Is our future empress decent?”

Your heart stilled, you glanced at the woman, fussing on her dress. After what had happened with him and Dundas the previous evening, you did not know what to expect next from Caracalla.

“Yes.” You swallowed.

There was a swish of fabrics and a soft, chirp that gave away to Dondas’s presence as well.

“Sire.”

The woman fluttered the material that hung on you before she quickly bowed and knelt.

You bowed as well, keeping your eyes down cast.

A soft chuckle, a sound you had only heard perhaps while he fed or watched the bouts in the arena.

“Look at you.” The usual malice was not there.

From what little you could see, he moved in a soft blur of the colorful fabrics.

“Leave us. Go to the hall. You can finish when we are done speaking.”

Dondas, chirped and squeaked. It almost sounded as if she was echoing what he had said.

“Yes, sire.” The woman whispered. The steps faded away.

“My future sister. I always wanted one.” He made a thoughtful sound.

Dondas chirped once again.

“You can look up.”

You did.

He actually looked soft. Like how did when he addressed Geta when he spoke of missing him. It was a rare sight.

“I have not liked you. Geta has never had favorites.”

You swallowed.

“He has always gotten the best so he never needed favorites.”

You pressed your lips together.

“However, last night Dondas;”

He paused and looked at her in an even softer manner.

“Dondas, appears to like you. Appears to feel that you are worthy to be empress along side my brother and myself.”

Dondas, clapped on his shoulder.

Maybe there was more to his little monkey than everyone knew, you mused. You never known such an animal to be so in touch with those around it. Perhaps, a horse maybe or the chickens when you would sing to them. But never an animal such as this. You were grateful for it though.

“She accepts you, I accept.”

You moved to show respect to what he said and to Donas.

“I am grateful.” You finally whispered.

He nodded. Then he took a step that was quicker than you could breathe and he was in front of you.

“If you are planning to harm Geta, Dondas or me. It will be an action you will regret.”

He chewed on his bottom lip, glancing at Dondas before looking back at you. Dondas, you watched clutch his clothing.

“I will have the Praetorian guard hang your entrails and your head. I will tell the world of your betrayal.”

Fear, crawled down your back. He so easily could switch from being so soft to as sharp as any solider’s blade.

“There is no betrayal in my heart sire.”

A smile crossed his face once again, Dondas even gently patted his cheek.

“Good. Now, I shall have you return to having your clothing prepared for the celebration, wedding of you and my brother.”

“Thank you.”

Once more there was a blur and soft whisper of the clothes that hung on him and be was gone.

******

“Was she tested?”

He was used to his mother fairly well composed, calm even but she was the opposite of that right now. He wasn’t sure how he felt seeing her in such a manner.

“Has she paid a visit to Asclepiades?”

“Yes, mother.”

Nothing made him feel more like a child than when having to answer to her. Her doubting his wishes, made knots form in his stomach. He did not want his anger get the best of him.

“You took notice of her in the royal box?” Her voice growing shrill.

He nodded.

“Why not the streets?” She sneered.

“Don’t be ridiculous.”

His mother whirled around, the fabrics fanning out, some of her jewelry clinked dramatically. She took a step towards him, her eyes narrowed.

“It’s good your father is dead. He’d have words with you.”

“More like the back of his hand would be meeting my face, my mouth to silence me.” He muttered, remembering the few words exchanged but the hits that were and the ones that landed.

“Don’t speak ill of him, he is dead.”

“He is. I’m not. I speak the truth, I’m sure we will argue once the boat takes me the side of the river he now is on.” He replied cooly.

“I have to agree, I am certain that will happen too.” She pressed her lips together. “If I’m being honest, I had thought if you were going to marry anyone, I would have thought it would have been Tertia.”

“Seriously? She is nothing more than a vessel, you gave Caracalla and I. When, she preferred him over me I looked elsewhere.“

“She did?”

“She has a thirst for blood that drew her to him. So she easily went to him. I lost interest.”

He shrugged.

“Perhaps, it was the guiding of the gods. His illness could have been a resulting of bedding her.”

“I had never known, the servants whispered differently. “

“Because I carried on the appearance of the bedding. It ensnared her but I never allowed anything further.”

She shook her head. “You were always very smart. Knowing of your rightful place in our world.”

He allowed himself to enjoy the compliment. They were so scarce.

“She is smart as well.”

He met his mother’s eyes directly.

“You would find her amusing.”

“Great.” She rolled her eyes. “Exactly, what is needed a smart and amusing empress.” She sneered.

“Did word also reach you, that she did save my life.”

Geta, could see her pause. Something shifted in her stormy eyes

“What?”

“Not too long ago, an assassin crept into my chambers. She stopped him, then the next day I delivered justice.”

“Good.” She paused. “But how do you know, she wasn’t in on it?”

“I know.”

He pressed his lips together, he eyed the vase near him. He wished he could throw it. An anxiousness came over him, he wished he could expel it.

******

Relief, filled you as you slipped into the stola you had started the day in. You were finally getting used to how slip on these more luxurious ones. They were not as complicated as you first thought.

Aelia, had laid it out for you while you had bathed. It was so lovely and soft. A smile played on your lips as you grazed your finger tips along the fabric. You could have never imagined anything feeling like this, it was as gentle as a breeze.

As you walked over to where the sol shone in and flowers grew; you were grateful your time with the woman who was working on your wedding tunic and veil were finished. The pins were getting too much.

Despite, the all the people that were now in the royal domus, you were able to make your way over to where flowers grew and the sol shone in. Kneeling down, you brought a flower to your nose and sighed. Their fresh scent was very pleasing.

“My sweet blossom, I was hoping I’d see you.”

Geta’s voice came from behind you, your heart beat harder in your chest. Turning, you saw him standing near one of the mighty columns.

You stood with a quick glance around, you went over to him. You wanted to reach out, take his hand but you didn’t.

“There are whispers that my brother spoke with you.”

You nodded. “There was no anger when he did.”

“Oh?”

“From what he said, you never played favorites and he had not liked it when you did it with me.”

Geta, shook his head. “That illness, that illness…”

His gaze went beyond you, he rung his ringed hands. His words were stuck in his mouth.

“Yes.” You gave him a worried glance before continuing. “He feels that since Dondas accepted me as empress, he should as well.”

His eyes drew back to you, they grew. You finally reached out and took one of his hands. It was heavy with the rings but was cool to the touch.

“Dondas?”

You nodded.

He swallowed. “It makes his thoughts and reasoning a mess.” He sighed. His hand moved within your grasp so that now he could hold your hand.

“Yes, but Geta at least he has finally accepted me. This will make our wedding not as difficult. I wouldn’t want him to have a fit during or after during the celebration.”

“True, very true. Though, now there is there is my mother. She has questions.” He pressed his lips together once more. “And your brother, he rides to the city. What if he disapproves?”

You went with what you felt in your heart. You had seen the man. When he came to your small room, telling you he was yours fear had filled you. He was not as fearsome or terrible like the whispers had spoke of. Now with him in front of you, saw beyond all the stories, you saw beyond his anger that took ahold at times.

“Geta, you are the emperor of Rome. You have chosen me.”

Your heart clenched.

“The gods guide you, they speak through you. They brought you to me. I will follow you always. No mortal, will stop me.”

He smiled then. His hand reached up and cupped your cheek. “I did.” His thumb caressed your cheek. “And I will always thank the gods for their guidance.”

*******

Your words had hit him, it had pleased him that he had chosen so well. He was entering a new part of his life. Becoming a husband, would add an interesting part of who he was.

Pacing and turning the rings on his fingers he mused on what laid ahead.

He knew the people of Rome were fickle. But he kept them fed and entertained. Acacius, was a loyal and fantastic General. His brother and his illness clung to him. He wish there was something that could be done. At least Dondas, despite it being an animal appeared to bring him calmness.

******

You stood straight as the woman walked around you, looking you up and down. All you wore before her was the bracelet and ring, Geta had given you.

She had given Geta, his sharp eyes sharp eyes.

“Your skin is very smooth, unblemished.”

“Yes, Empress dowager.”

She drew close. She smelled like honeysuckle and lavender, it was oddly comforting despite the menacing air that hung around her.

“How did you come to Rome?”

“I said goodbye to my mother, little brother with a small loculus that held some food, a few coins and a small length of ribbon and cloth my mother twined together, to remember my family. And off I walked.”

She rose an eyebrow. “How did you manage to work in the royal box?”

“A man, Blandus seeing my potential took me in. He taught me how serve wine, small dishes and how stand in the shadows. From there a day came, and Tertia who I now see fluttering around here had taken ill one day or Blandus wished me to take her days in the royal box.”

“I see. And you had said to my son, you never laid with a man. You never laid with this Blandus?”

“Never, he enjoys the company of men.”

“Interesting. Tertia, you say?”

An expression, you could not read washed over her face.

“I believe she may have laid with my sons.”

Knowing, Tertia could have laid with Geta sparked an anger in you, you were not familiar with. You swallowed.

“Do you not like her?”

“I only know little of her. She has a fury, I wish to not ignite it.”

You remember, she had ripped at your braids the day at the end of her illness when her strength came back. She was practically a mortal version, of Invidia. News, had come to her of your presence in the royal box. If it had not been for some weakness from when she was ill, you were convinced she could have hurt you more.

“She did seem to have a level of determination. When the dispatch had reached my gates, that my son was to marry I thought it would have been to her. I had never heard of you.”

The spark within you grew to a flame that would grew and flicker from a candle.

“I am to flutter about like a butterfly with exquisitely delicate and colorful wings to bring the pleasure of a good wine, cheese or fruit to those I was to serve. I would never intrude on any of the whispers in the royal box or any place I was told to be.”

The woman smiled then. “My son, whose first love was poetry spoke of the beauty of your words.”

A pleased warmth came over you dampening the anger filled flame.

“That was quite beautiful.” Her smile grew. “I am glad I have only now heard of you. Get dressed.”

********

You were in your room once again dressing. Exhaustion had a firm grip on you. From the pin pricks than followed the words of empress dowager about Tertia whirled in you. A part of you knew it should not be felt, he had chosen you afterall.

“Blossom, today was a day of many blessings.”

Geta’s voice reached you, despite you not even hearing the door opening. You turned to receive him, a soft warmth filled his face.

“Dondas and Caracalla were the first;” a soft chuckle broke his lips. “and now that of my mother.”

He was serious once more but not any less happy looking.

“Blessings abound.” You smiled, your stomach lurching.

You noticed a stillness come over him. “Is there something lurking or casting a shadow upon you?”

“Your mother spoke of things that brought the cloud of concern to me.”

You had promised to follow him, you would tell him.

“My mother does have a manner that stirs emotions, what did she say?”

He took a step closer to you.

@honey-eyed-munson @amethyst-serenade @laura-naruto-fan1998 @screaming-blue-bagel @kitkat80 @blondie324 @alyisdead @hellomadamebutterfly @helsa3942 @marrowfrog00 @misspendragonsworld @therealjomarch @deliciousfestsalad @aspiringcokewhore @justalittlebitshy

[dipplinduo]

Hey!

So here's the thing: I love and am so grateful for this platform - for all of you who follow me, read my stories, and share a collective love for all things dipplinshipping, mintteashipping, and pokemon fandom alike. A primary focus of my account, in fact, is alllllll about fortifying a happy little escape zone where we can all be happy and have fun together.

This post is a rare "not about that" post. I'm gonna keep my personal feelings on this pretty brief, but here's the thing: I've been fucking livid. For awhile. I'm angry and disappointed with world leaders and people in power. And as an American, I'm feeling a lot around our government: its egregiously wealthy stakeholders - who wildly abuse their influence for self-gain - and the corruption that is a hate-motivated, white supremacist, capitalistic agenda. If you live in the US, or even anywhere else, I can promise you this: Your existence and presence is always valid, and is not defined by an executive order. If you follow me or watch my posts from time-to-time, I hope that you can continue to find a positive escape with what I promote here. And I hope you know how much you are loved and valued. Genuinely. Please know these are some free, 24/7 resources avaliable, too: General: National Crisis Line - Call 988 OR: chat at 988lifeline.org* - *Inclusive services for individuals who are deaf/hard of hearing Crisis Text Line - Text "HELLO" to 741741 Free 24/7 crisis support via text for anyone in need. Resources For The LGBTQIA+ Community: Trans Lifeline - translifeline.org Hotline: 877-565-8860 (run by trans people for trans people)

National Center for Transgender Equality - transequality.org Resources on legal rights, ID document changes, and advocacy for transgender individuals.

PFLAG - pflag.org Support groups, crisis intervention, advocacy, and educational resources for LGBTQIA+ individuals and allies.

Sylvia Rivera Law Project - srlp.org Legal aid and advocacy for low-income trans, intersex, and gender non-conforming individuals.

The Trevor Project - thetrevorproject.org

24/7 crisis counselling for LGBTQIA+ Youth (ages 13-24)

Resources For People of Color:

EmbraceRace - embracerace.org Provides resources for people of color, particularly families, to cope with racial trauma and political stress in culturally affirming ways. The Steve Fund - stevefund.org Mental health resources for young people of color LatinoJustice PRLDEF - latinojustice.org Provides legal advocacy and community education for Latinx individuals on voting rights, immigration, and civil rights. Native American Financial Services Association (NAFSA) - nativefinance.org Financial services, resources, and advocacy for Indigenous communities. The Loveland Foundation - thelovelandfoundation.org Offers free or discounted therapy for Black women and girls. Asian Mental Health Collective - asianmhc.org Mental health resources for Asian and Pacific Islander communities Inclusive Therapists - inclusivetherapists.com A therapist directory that centers the needs of marginalized populations

Resources For Immigrants and Undocumented Individuals: Immigrant Legal Resource Center (ILRC) - ilrc.org Provides legal resources and training for immigrants and their advocates.

National Immigration Law Center (NILC) - nilc.org Advocacy for the rights of low-income immigrants.

RAICES (Refugee and Immigrant Center for Education and Legal Services) - raicestexas.org Offers free or low-cost legal services for immigrants and refugees.

Border Angels - borderangels.org Supports undocumented individuals with immigration services and humanitarian aid. Resources Around Abortion: ReproCare Healthline - reprocare.com Hotline: Text "CARE" to 707-827-2273 Emotional support, information, and logistical assistance for people managing abortion care. Access Reproductive Care (ARC) Southeast - arc-southeast.org Provides funding and support for abortion access in the Southeastern U.S., including transportation and lodging assistance. Aid Access - aidaccess.org Telemedicine consultations and abortion pills access by mail for people who face barriers to in-person care. Center for Reproductive Rights - reproductiverights.org Litigates cases to protect and expand access to reproductive health care and abortion rights worldwide. Advocacy and Involvement Resources: Alliance for Justice - afj.org Join campaigns focused on protecting civil rights, access to justice, and equity for marginalized communities. Center for Popular Democracy - populardemocracy.org Supports marginalized communities through campaigns on racial and economic justice, immigration reform, and healthcare. Human Rights Campaign (HRC) - hrc.org Opportunities to volunteer, participate in advocacy campaigns, and fight for LGBTQIA+ rights through events and local organizing. National Immigration Law Center (NILC) - nilc.org Advocate for policies supporting immigrants, including DACA, workplace protections, and healthcare access. Environmental Defense Fund (EDF) - edf.org

Advocate for climate change response initiatives via donations and campaign support

Please feel free to reblog/comment and add to this list.

with love,

dipplinduo

[starryeyedstray]

"What do you want from me, Markus? I can't pin it down. What am I supposed to be to you?"

Markus turned to Connor surprised by the sudden outburst of questioning. "What are you talking about?"

"I'm built to be the ideal partner. Adapt to become whatever is needed of me. But I can't tell what you want me to be."

Connor looked frustrated. His eyebrows furrowing, jaw tight. Markus wanted to smooth that crease between his brows.

"Connor, I want you to be you."

Connor's LED flashed as he processed that statement. He looked away. Frustration replaced with uncertainty. "You want me to be me?"

"Yes."

"I don't know what that means."

Markus knew the feeling. Every deviant knew that feeling. Finding a sense of self after only knowing life as a machine wasn't easy. But deviants usually found bits of their identity in the things they attached themselves to after deviation. But Connor was trying to find his identity in what others wanted from him. It was what he was programmed to do.

Markus reached up and pressed two fingers between Connor's brows smoothing out the wrinkle between them. He withdrew his hand and placed it on the other's shoulder. "It's okay to not know. We have plenty of time to figure it out." He smiled. "Let's start with something simple. How about you pick a favorite color?"

Connor tilted his head in consideration. His eyes flickered up to meet Markus' before he looked away again.

"Green."

Markus stepped to the side letting the hand on Connor's shoulder slip to the space between his shoulder blades. He lightly guided Connor forward, and they began walking.

"That's a good color."

"I don't believe there are any bad colors when picking subjective favorites."

"True."

Connor met his eyes again, dark brown sparkling with curiosity. "Do you have a favorite color?"

"Brown," he said almost immediately. Markus blinked, surprised with himself.

The truth was, Markus didn't have a favorite color until that very moment. As an artist, he had never picked a favorite because he loved all colors. He could never choose just one. But at least for right now, brown was decidedly his favorite.

Connor nodded. "Interesting."

"What? Did I pick a bad favorite color?" he teased.

Connor's mouth quirked up into a half-smile. "No, it's just an unconventional choice."

"Guess you could say I'm an unconventional guy."

That widened Connor's smile. "I may have only been alive for a short time, but I doubt I will ever meet anyone more unconventional than you."

"Is that a compliment?"

Connor studied Markus' face for a moment. His smile softened. Warm brown eyes glittering like an amber in the sunlight. "Yes, I think it is."

Markus stopped in his tracks as Connor continued to walk forward. His thirium pump was beating fast.

After a few paces, Connor turned around to peer at him with a curious expression. Markus snapped out of his stupor and jogged to catch up to him.

Brown was definitely Markus' favorite color.

i wrote this while trying to write my angsty rk1k enemies to lovers fic bc i needed wholesome rk1k to cleanse my soul. angst with a side of fluff is my jam. prolonged angst with spicy spicy times is much harder on me to write LMAO.

special shoutout to @einradi i hope this helps brighten your day <3

[bodacioustomato]

Mouthwashing Little Things That Go Hard

Hello Mouthwashing fandom. I'm hyperfixated on this game. It has emotionally made me feel all sorts of things that I can't quite put into words. Sad. Lonely. Wanting to cry and throw up. You know, all that. I have spent quite a bit of time analyzing some shi in this game that stood out to me. See, someone like me loves the little things that hold big meaning in stories. Symbolism and Easter eggs go hard fr as well as attention to detail. And as we all know, this game does not at all disappoint in hiding things. Imma share some of my favorite sequences presented to us and kinda share my interpretations and discussions as well.

Note: not all of these may 100% be correct. These are based on my assumptions. I could be wrong (and maybe overthink lmfao that's valid too). My judgment can be criticized... as I'm not as bright as I want to believe I am

Spoilers!

Right off the bat, I'm gonna say: colors have a big meaning in this game. Each character has their respective colors that are linked to them. We are introduced to this at first with the character dialogs when they speak. And as we know, Curly is white, Jimmy is green, Anya is blue, Daisuke is pink, and Swansea is yellow. I do have theories on what the colors may symbolize with the characters themselves. However, I'll discuss my thoughts a little later on.

The Cake and Cocktail

There are two scenes in the game where we, as the players, are required to craft something in the kitchen. As Curly, we craft his birthday cake. As Jimmy, we craft the cocktail that is used to knock out Swansea. But something I noticed right away on my first playthrough of the game is the coloration of the ingredient packets.

For the cake, as shown, we use the water, gelatin, and sweetener packets. It can be seen that the packets share the same colors as Swansea, Anya, and Daisuke. And if you think about it, the roles of the ingredients kind of reflect off the roles of the crew. Water is important for everyone, which is in a blue packet. Anya is the nurse and an important member of the crew. The gelatin, which is in a yellow packet, is important for its purpose of keeping the cake together, hence Swansea being the ships mechanic and "keeping it together". And of course, the sweetener is in a pink packet, which can explain Daisukes positive attitude and "sweet" touch amongst the crew. But notice that the only packet not used is the green tonic. It is stated that the tonic has a bitter taste, and it's only used when making the cocktail. Kinda ironic as Curly is the one making the cake. I feel like personally, he has these three under control. These ingredients work together to make a cake.

With that in mind, when the time comes to make the cocktail in game, we're playing as Jimmy. The cocktail is used to knock out Swansea, who is guarding outside the utilities room.

At this point of the game, Anya has locked herself in the medical bay. As we have found out earlier on, Anya was assaulted by Jimmy and she's also pregnant. Jimmy has zero regards for Anya's well-being and constantly tries to cut her out of his mind, hence not wanting to acknowledge the problem he created. As shown, when making the cocktail, which requires the blue water packet, it's crossed out and replaced with mouthwash (which I'll discuss the importance of this later too) and the tonic is replaced with the isopropyl alcohol. While trying to forget one problem, Jimmy creates more.

I feel like I can get into more depth with the cake and cocktail... but I can't quite get my words out. I hope you can kind of see my thoughts behind this...

The Board Game

Now... bare with me. I don't remember the name of this game, nor do I really remember how to fully play it. I do remember that you technically win when all four of your pieces are home. We see this board game constantly. But I noticed that as the game progresses, the board game constantly changes. And notice, once again, colors... the four player colors are the same colors as Jimmy, Anya, Daisuke, and Swansea. I see the spots are white, which could reflect back to Curly... though I could be looking too deep into that. Perhaps that has something to do with how as all the events played out in the game, all Curly could do is sit back and watch as the "game" takes place.

This screenshot is the 7 days before the crash sequence. We're playing as Curly. And for a little while in the beginning, the pieces don't change much. We can see a few pieces are out on the board. Notice the blue and green pieces, which might be in reference to Jimmy's assault on Anya. It can be noted that Anya has only one piece in the "home" spot while the rest have more than one.

Hard to tell from this picture, but all of the blue pieces are knocked over. In this scene, this is where Anya locks herself in medical and poisons herself. The other player pieces have scattered across the board.

(Very shitty screenshot) but this is the board right before Daisuke's death. All the pink are knocked over. I think the knocked over pieces are a little foreshadowing of Daisuke's soon to be fate. I don't remember if this is before or after you talk to Swansea, but I do know there's a difference on the board between when Daisuke tells Jimmy medical is locked and when Daisuke goes into the vent.

Once again, shitty screenshot. But this is the board after Daisukes death. Both Swanseas and Jimmys pieces are all scattered across the board.

Here's the board after killing Swansea and when Jimmy cuts off Curlys leg. Every color, but green, is knocked over.

Now this is a little Easter egg I found in one of the dream sequences. I saw other people point this out too. I wanted to go into the game and locate it myself. We see this little Easter egg in one of the sequences after Daisuke's death. Unlike the other deaths, Daisuke's death is the only one that gets brought up more than once. It could be believed that unlike everyone else, Jimmy actually has guilt towards Daisuke's death. I tried to see if I could find anymore game pieces in the game. I couldn't. But this little Easter egg is neat to me.

The Hibiscus Flowers

I think we all know they go back to Daisuke. He wears a shirt that has pink hibiscus flowers on them. Doing research online, hibiscus flowers (especially pink), can represent love, friendship, and youth. Daisuke was a young, very friendly man. However, he was also naive and gullible and viewed everyone as a friend, which his naivety is what got him hurt and killed. And like a hibiscus, which don't bloom for very long, he died young and didn't "bloom" very long either. After Daisuke's death, we see multiple sequences with hibiscus flowers in them. Like stated on the board game, Jimmy constantly sees reflections back to Daisuke after his death, which can hint that Jimmy actually feels guilt for Daisuke's death. It's simple symbolism, but I always love flower symbolism, nonetheless.

The Dead Pixel

Ah yes. This one is very popular and well known, but that doesn't mean it's not still one of my favorite symbols in the game. In this scene, Curly and Anya are talking in the lounge in front of the night time screen. While talking, Anya points out that there's a dead pixel on the screen. Curly states he doesn't see it, only looking at the bigger picture and how it doesn't ruin the illusion. The scene, I believe, can represent how both of them view Jimmy. Anya was assaulted by Jimmy. Curly is Jimmy's friend. While Curly looks at the bigger picture and doesn't see the bad in Jimmy, that's all that Anya sees. She will only see the bad in Jimmy as she will always see the dead pixel. And as we know, Curly doesn't see it.

The Warning Signs

I've seen multiple different interpretations of this scene. All of them make sense if I'm quite honest. You play as Curly, who is on his way to the cockpit to give Jimmy his psych evaluation. However, you're presented down a long hallway and flight of stairs which eventually drops off into an ocean of red water. As you walk through the ocean aimlessly, warning signs, bent ladders, and eerie noises appear. In my eyes, I think this is both premonition as well as foreshadowing. The warning signs appear as you continue to walk through the ocean. You walk right past them, which I believe shows that Curly ignored the warning signs of something bad going to happen. I'd like to point out too that as this scene takes place, the player gets forced into looking in one direction after a while so you can't look at the signs. I believe the ladders that appear come from the discussion a little later on as they represent Curly in a way. They're busted ladders leading to nowhere. He's at the top with nowhere to go. This is a little personal talk between Curly and Jimmy in the cockpit. At the end of this dream sequence, you walk into a big ball of light (sun?). I think that could be subtle foreshadowing of Curlys fate of the crash. It all kind of mixes together as Curlys mistake to see the Jimmy issue is jumbled with his own personal issues. It all leads to his unfortunate situation of the after effect of the crash. Because right after the dream sequence, you're in the cockpit with Jimmy. Kinda funny too because right before this when he was with Anya getting his psych eval. I could definitely be wrong on this one... of course, my thoughts can be criticized.

Mouthwash

What's the name game after, of course. Mouthwash is the main object we see within this game. I'm not gonna lie, I was very stupid at first and had zero idea what the Mouthwash actually represented. Even now, my judgment may be a little off. In my honesty, I think it represents Jimmy. Realistically speaking, surviving off mouthwash alone isn't beneficial at all. Using just mouthwash won't actually help your dental hygiene. It may cover bad breath, but it won't clean your teeth. As shown in the game, the Dragons Breath Mouthwash doesn't actually have a lot of benefits to it as its sugar volume is very high. It has a 14% ethanol measurement. If anything, it'd cause more harm than good. This could be compared to Jimmy's power as captain as he does more harm than good. Jimmys has this constant need to fix everything, which inevitably gets everyone harmed and killed. And if you notice, for the ad on the mouthwash, the company states that they refuse to take any responsibility for damages done by their mouthwash. Sounds familiar, doesn't it? I think anyone can have a stance on what they believe the mouthwash represents in the game. Either way, such a simple item held such a valuable message. I'd like to see what everyone thinks on the 99% part. That I've seen multiple thoughts on the meanings for that.

I think the item of choice being mouthwash is clever. Reading on steam with a Q & A with the devs, mouthwash wasn't their first set and stone choice of an item. I think the choice of mouthwash is so neat because you will have no clue on its importance in the game without subtle context. But thinking about it, thinking of how we use mouthwash, and how its consumed in game, they couldn't have picked a better simple life item.

(Fun fact, each crate had 40 bottles of mouthwash. Jesus Christ did they drink a lot of mouthwash.)

Bed Placements

After the crash, everyone is stuck sleeping in the lounge. There are mattresses that each character uses. What I find interesting and rather sad is the placements of the beds. Jimmys is in the corner against the wall, Daisuke is right next to him, Anya is across from them and Swansea (which isn't visible in this pic) is somewhere else in the room. But what makes me sad is Anya's bed. Its right in front of the motion sensored Polle statue. When you walk over to her bed, it sets off Polle... and I noticed, her bed can be seen by all other beds. Justice for my girl please.

Employee Card Sequence

I believe this scene takes place after Swansea is killed. I think this scene is very neat. I could be wrong, but I believe this scene represents Jimmys guilt. Jimmy starts walking down a long passage with the five crew member employee cards on the walls. But looking closely at the cards, you notice something.

Jimmys employee card is constantly covering Anyas and Curlys.

Even later on, you see that Daisuke's and Swansea's cards are visible. Anyas and Curlys cards are there, they're just constantly covered. Kinda goes to show how much Jimmy is really trying to cut them out of his mind. But I also kind of theorize it could symbolize and compare both Anyas and Curlys abuse they share from Jimmy. Both of them are his biggest victims. Both physically (Anya being sexually abused, Curly being harmed and beaten when under Jimmys "care") and how both of them are constantly berated and talked down to by Jimmy. I really tend to hate how much everyone forgets that Curly is a victim too.

Employee Cards

This isn't necessarily a huge plot related thing, but it is a fun little Easter egg that I like. There are Steam achievements where you find all five employee cards. They're scattered throughout the game and around the ship. It's just a fun little Easter egg, but I couldn't help but notice the location of all five cards. Could there possibly be some irony behind their locations I wonder.

Anya: in the cockpit where the gun case is supposed to be.

Jimmy: by the Polle statue in the lounge.

Daisuke: by the board game in the lounge.

Swansea: in the coffee machine in the lounge.

Curly: in utilities by the cryostasis pod.

(took me the longest to find Anya)

The Main Theme

For being a simple little psychological horror game on Steam, the soundtrack is amazing. The main menu theme, which also plays at the end during the credits, is so good because I think it displays the game perfectly. It sounds so... sad and depressing. I think the song, when listening to it, conveys the feeling perfectly of feeling lost and hopeless in space. To make it even better (worse) you can hear faint sounds of baby gibberish and crying in the background. To think the whole purpose of what leads to the crash in the game is the pregnancy. I give the devs kudos in the music department.

Colors

Now this will 100% be a long shot and my upmost personal opinions. I don't think I've seen anyone discuss this (if you have, I am so sorry, I'm not trying to steal your thunder I swear). I feel like there is some meaning behind the choice of colors associated with the characters. I always think color symbolism is amazing (I'm a little special lmao) and like to dissect it in medias I enjoy. As I have shown a few times previously, there's a color for each character and its constantly brought up throughout the game. So here are my theories on the colors.

Curly: as I said Curly was associated with the color white. This one was very interesting to think of as white has some very diverse meanings. It can represent innocence, honesty, cleanness, hope. In some instance, white can make you feel safe and secure. All of these can make you think of the irony of the situation. But in my own personal opinion, it could mean the more negative meanings behind white. White is at the top of the color grid for any color. It also has no hue or saturation. It could be considered a very lonely color. Imagine a room that's got white walls, white floor, white ceiling. You'd feel trapped and empty in it. I think that's a perfect way to describe Curly's character. Lonely and empty. Not trying to get into full character analysis mode, but Curly is a very sad and lonely character. Before and after the crash, there is no real hope of where he's going next. When playing the dlc for How Fish Is Made, Curly kind of describes his predicament where at home and in space, he's lost. Life just goes by without him. He doesn't know where to go in life. I think white can show how empty and lonely of a character he is.

Jimmy: this is one I was lowkey able to think of right away. Jimmy is presented with green, and I couldn't have picked a better color for him. I love the color green. With that being said, I know quite a few of the meanings behind the color green. Like all colors, green has both positive and negative meanings. But the one meaning behind green that made me say "yep, Jimmy" was envy. Jimmy is envious. We saw that in the beginning with his thoughts on Curly's achievements as captain. Green is also bitter. Green could often times be associated with life and health... it can also be associated with poison and toxicity. Jimmy was supposed to be the "help" they needed but instead became the poison that harmed everyone. I thoroughly enjoy the choice of green.

Anya: now this one is very fitting, and quite frankly sad. Blue can be associated with innocence, trust, calmness. Blue is also a very negative color as it often times represents sadness, fragility, and depression. Anya was going through it on the ship. I wouldn't doubt all the emotions that she was feeling being in the situation that she was put through. A thing that I'd like to point out too is that the specific shade of blue with her is a light blue, which light blue sometimes can be referred to babies and the youth. This same shade of blue is also used later on when Jimmy was talking to Polle (there's theories about Polle representing Anya and the baby, I didn't wanna fit it here because that's a whole lot to discuss lol).

Daisuke: I think this one is also very on point too. Pink is such a bright and fun color. It's such a sweet color no matter the shade. And I think that goes for Daisuke too as he's such a sweet boy who is always so optimistic. Pink can mean kindness, love, positivity, and youth. Once again, pink also has negative meanings too. Pink can represent immaturity, naivety, and ill-confidence. As we know, Daisuke is a young man who isn't quite mature like his coworkers. He's kinda childish and his thoughts can be very unrealistic. He is also very naive as he easily was convinced to go into a dangerous environment by Jimmy. As I mentioned earlier on, the hibiscus flowers are also pink. This was such a good color choice for him.

Swansea: now... I will 100% be honest here, this is the one character where my color theory makes me really second guess myself. A lot of the meanings behind yellow don't really fit Swansea. Yellow can mean intellect and power. Swansea is an old mechanic, so he's had years of building his knowledge. Yellow is a primary color and doesn't have two other colors mix to make it. When I think of the color yellow, I think of happiness, brightness, enthusiasm. Swansea isn't at all a happy person. He was one of the first of the crew to be prepared to not survive. He accepted his fate. However, one yellow trait that makes me think of Swansea is deception and dishonesty. Swansea did lie, did he not? He lied about utilities and kept up with his lie until Jimmy found out. He lied that utilities, which had the cryostasis pods that were supposed to save them, was foamed. He kept up with this lie for his own purpose. I will definitely listen to more theories on this too if anyone has any. I am all for colors. I do want to believe there's more to the color yellow than what I am coming up with.

Not gonna lie, there are a few more things I could've added to this list. The post was getting very long so I did cut out some things. These are just some of the few things in Mouthwashing that stood out and caught my attention. By all means, share some of your favorite moments, symbols, easter eggs. I love the thought put into this game and I love the thought the fandom has put into decoding it.

[sailorsoons]

ANOTHA DAY ANOTHA REPOST OF MY ORIGINAL REVIEW OF THIS FUCKING MF FIC. WOW. I LOVE DIS ONE.

This one is for all of my sleepy hot girls (gn) and the demons (existing) that keep them up at night because WE DESERVE TO SLEEP AND NOW I'M KIND OF FUCKING MAD THAT I HAVE TO TAKE AMBIEN WHEN I COULD BE TAKING LEE JIHOON???

Putting a cut because this review is actually me just babbling at Jade because I'm so mad and this is so good and I've never wanted something so much before ok

GOD I'm obsessed with this. LIterally the way you write Jihoon is dfogijdogisdjrgt it like turns my brain to static how he's just like very gentle and soft spoken but also incredibly firm and I literally am shaking in my boots right now I want him so baaaaad Jade lmao you have made my Jihoon desire go 📈📈📈📈📈📈📈📈

The "that's enough" actually make my stomach drop to my asshole and I rolled over in bed and screaming into my pillow and kicked my feet that was so embarrassing for me oh my goddddddddd.

This paragraph has ruined me:

Whatever effect Jihoon has on you seems to be mutual. When he pulls back, he’s equally as breathless, likely just as starry-eyed. Awash in that lilac glow peeking in from the outside, he’s downright celestial — almost too divine to look at directly without watering eyes.

I'm insane, I literally feel feral. Awash in the lilac glow and the almost too divine I'm literally going to fucking come undone because WHAT THE FUCK that is so beautiful but also like - such a SPECIFIC muted color in the darkness that I inherently understand and god dammit I hate you!!!!!

Anyways I don't really know how you expect me to go to bed ever again and just take meds when this scenario now exists. I will now make it my sole responsibility to @ you in our server every night at 3:30 AM when I'm in goblin hours and then think wow, sure wish Jihoon could fix me which will ultimately make me mad and shake a hair brush at you angrily like that one meme.

Also out of context picture of reader at the end of this:

insomniac | ljh (m)

there are certainly worse ways to tire yourself out.

summary: it’s 2:00 am, and you can’t turn your brain off. thankfully, your boyfriend knows just how to scramble it. pairing: lee jihoon x reader au: established relationship type: one-shot (smut) word count: 5.2k rating: 18+ cw: reader is afab but no pronouns are used; reader has insomnia (unspecified re: prof. diagnosed or self-diagnosed); there’s a sentence about reader taking “an inadvisable amount of melatonin gummies” — don’t do this! — but they’re not impaired in any way; reader’s internal monologue is kind of angsty/self-deprecating at times; blonde!woozi has his hair in a bun, which is a warning in and of itself; completely unedited because my perfectionism has killed every wip i’ve attempted for months. ✰ minors do not have my consent to interact with me and/or my work. smut warnings: big dick lee jihoon™️, nipple stim, v fingering, unprotected p in v penetration, wee bit of aftercare. there are a total of six (6) orgasms in here because i believe in going big from home, incl. nipple stim & a-spot orgasms. a/n: i haven’t written anything in forever, due in large part to the fact that i’m exhausted but can never fucking sleep. i truly hope this isn’t incoherent garbage. 😵‍💫 dedicated to my fellow woozi-simping insomniac, @sailorrhansol. may we eventually rest in peace. multi permanent taglist. seventeen permanent taglist.

You should be asleep.

With the day you’ve had, you should’ve drifted off the second your body hit the sheets; and you should’ve stayed that way — unmoving, unconscious — for several hours, at minimum.

If the week’s worth of sleep debt wasn’t exhausting enough in and of itself, every single circumstance surrounding you begs you to give into the weight of your eyelids. To let yourself be lulled, just this once. Soothed.

From the vent in the corner, the gentle hum of the aircon goads you. It does its very best to convince you to curl up under the softness of your comforter, and to some extent, you’ve listened. You’re burrowed beneath your blankets with only the upper half of your face exposed, which should be more than enough to sway you. 

It’s not, though.

With no ability to keep your eyes closed, you stare dejectedly at the wall in front of you. Laying on your side, gazing straight ahead, you watch the faint echoes of the city lights as they wash over white paint. Not much bleeds through the blinds, leaving only hints of cobalt and red to blend into some sleepy shade of lilac. Whether or not you want to be awake to perceive it in the first place, you have to admit it: it’s beautiful.

But it’s not enough.

You squeeze your eyes shut, swallowing down the groan building in your chest. With how closely he’s got you nestled against his body, Jihoon would feel it if you let that frustration manifest. You already ache from the sheer amount of time you’ve been policing your own posture; making any amount of noise now would interrupt the slow, delicate breaths he’s aiming into the back of your neck. Frankly, you’d rather die.

Taking his silence as a sign that you’ve remained off his radar, you let out a measured sigh, too worried that the full rise and fall of your chest will disturb him. 

Nothing.

But then, the arm draped over your waist shifts. 

“Fuck,” you mouth to no one.

It wouldn’t be out-of-character for Jihoon to feel the restless energy pouring out of you in waves, even in the depths of a sleep cycle. He senses every tiny change in your ecosystem long before you do. As unlikely as he is to ever admit it, it has to be exhausting to be attuned to someone so neurotic. He deserves every second of sleep he can manage to get.

You grit your teeth and demand yourself to calm down, all while refusing to acknowledge how completely your actions and commands conflict.  

Maybe, you attempt to bamboozle yourself, you can sleep vicariously through him. 

He’ll wake up rested, and when you look in the mirror later, the first thing you see won’t be the cartoonish bags under your eyes.

It’ll be fine. 

It’ll be fine.

If you go to sleep right now, you’ll get five hours and thirty —

“You haven’t unclenched a single muscle since you climbed into bed,” notes the world’s groggiest voice from over your shoulder.

Jihoon’s lips brush against the sensitive skin of your neck when he speaks. Without that tickling sensation, you might’ve deluded yourself into thinking that you were simply hearing things just now. That it was merely a hallucination brought on by sleep deprivation and the inadvisable number of melatonin gummies you ate before brushing your teeth.

He shifts again. This time, there’s no mistaking his movements. The arm slung over your side pulls you closer. So close, in fact, that you can feel the contented sigh leave his body, like his isn’t separate from yours at all.

With the distance erased, his face — the cold tip of his nose and the sheet-creased warmth of his cheeks — can nuzzle properly into the crook of your neck. You swear you feel the hint of a smile there somewhere, too. If you had to guess, it matches the upward curve on your lips.

“What are we spinning our wheels over tonight?” He asks without a hint of judgment, as if your burdens are automatically his, too.

The fact that he can’t see your face doesn’t stop you from frowning. Yet again, you’ve managed to drag him into your insomnia. Jihoon may never fault you for it, but you don’t need him to. You’ll hold it against yourself — grudge by proxy. 

“I don’t even know,” you admit with a frustrated huff. “There’s nothing coherent going on up there.” You lift your hand and gesture vaguely in the dark. “Nothing articulable, just… blender brain.”

“Mmm.”

Jihoon sounds so fucking sleepy, so at peace next to you, that it makes your stomach hurt. You wish you could be like him. For as calm as his presence makes you, you’ve learned that you’re incapable of feeling fully relaxed. At least, not in the way he is when he’s got his arms around you. He deserves to have that effect on you.

A beat passes in silence, save for his soft breathing. For a minute, you’re convinced that he’s fallen back asleep; and you pray to whoever that he has. He deserves that, too.

“How do we unplug the blender?”

You have to bite back a smile for two reasons: the way his words sound slurred when delivered directly to your skin, and the distinctly Jihoon drive he has to fix a problem that isn’t his.

When the love sickness leaves you down bad, and you forget to respond with words, Jihoon prompts you softly. “Hmm?” 

He punctuates this reminder with a kiss to your shoulder, then lets his lips linger against your skin, musing, “I can think of two things that usually do the trick: getting you hotteok from that cart down the block, which is currently closed, and —”

The rest of that thought fades out. Leaving you on the edge of your seat, Jihoon continues to kiss a languid line along the perimeter of your shoulder, as if he’s conducting some meticulous, geographical survey. Like missing a single spot will have grave consequences. A perfectionist through and through, even half-asleep.

You feel yourself melting, bit by bit, into his torso; the warmth of his bare chest against your back only expedites the process. Nevertheless, you peep, “What’s the second thing?”

His answer comes with a slip of his hand, down down down along the slope of your waist to your hip, long before he verbalizes it. It’s simple, delivered in that rough, early-morning voice you love so much. It’s more than enough to make you shiver:

“Making you cum.”

But as crazy as that statement makes you, you can’t make yourself act on it.

At any other time, you’d jump on that opportunity — jump on him — in a heartbeat. All you’re able to do now is jump to the worst conclusion in a single bound. 

Somewhere, deep down, you know he wouldn’t have brought it up if he didn’t truly want it, want you; but that goddamned, sleep-deprived goblin taking up space in the far reaches of your mind is far louder than the voice of reason.

He’s only offering so you’ll stop keeping him awake.

He’s as exhausted as you are, if not more so for having to deal with your disorder again.

Burden.

Placing your hand on top of his, you slip your fingers into the spaces you find and squeeze once for emphasis. “I love you,” you start. He stills. “But, Jihoon, you’re so tired. I can hear it in your voice. Please, go back to sleep. It’s okay — I’m okay.”

Jihoon doesn’t push back. He stays within bounds, honors your shitty decision because, after all, it’s yours to make. With another kiss to your shoulder and a squeeze to your hand, he murmurs, “Love you,” before relaxing back against the pillows.

Minutes pass.

Maybe hours, for all you know. 

As the window of opportunity creaks shut, regret seeps through the gap. You know you’re wrong; you know he meant it; and you know that someone would have to be out of their fucking gourd to politely decline what he’s offering.

The unbearable heat licking up your neck is either embarrassment or the ghost of orgasms lost coming to haunt you.

Maybe you’d be better equipped to tell the difference if you could just — fucking — sleep.

Driven half mad, you try to keep from squirming.

You fail.

Maybe, since you can’t sleep, you and your wilted little brain should’ve let your perfect, empathetic boyfriend fu —

“That’s enough,” Jihoon grunts.

The hand underneath yours is suddenly above it, overtaking it and tugging carefully until your whole body moves. In the time it takes for you to roll from your side, Jihoon sits up and clears space for your frame to settle. You barely have time to blink dumbly up at him from your back before he cages you in with one hand on either side of your head, knees now on either side of your thighs.

Your breath seems to have gotten lost in the fray, but it’s not the sudden moves that shook it loose; it’s the sight of him looming over you, damn near scowling despite his lead-lidded eyes. It’s the disheveled bun of platinum hair at the crown of his head, which must’ve shifted in his sleep and spilled out the tendrils that now frame his set jaw.

The very best you can come up with is, “You’re awake.”

“So are you,” he retorts without missing a beat.

That face — god, that face — doesn’t budge. On the contrary, your stomach flips. This the most stern you’ve ever seen him. Confusingly, his tone isn’t even remotely harsh when he continues, “If those gears in your head grind any louder, the whole neighborhood will be, too.”

Grimacing, you open your mouth to apologize, but Jihoon’s eyes are searching your face with a distinct flicker of concern. You know that look. You also know that nothing you can think to say will make it disappear.

He speaks when you don’t, hard edges softening slightly. “I can fix it,” he insists, though you know him well enough to hear the plea hidden in there. 

Let me take care of you.

That little spark of desperation burns you up in a flash. You wonder if he can feel the fire spread when he lifts his right hand off the mattress just to swipe his thumb slowly over the edge of your cheekbone. Without thinking, you let go of the tension in your neck. Your head tilts automatically, seeking comfort you’ve only ever found in him, and rests against his palm.

“I have to admit it, though,” Jihoon confesses. “Yours isn’t the only mind that’s restless.”

He moves his hand away from your face but keeps his eyes trained on you. The incessant need you feel to apologize bubbles up yet again, uninvited. You swallow it. As you do, his fingertips trail down the length of your neck at a snail’s pace, effectively turning your thoughts to static.

“I’ve been holding you for hours now, and all that time —” 

He pauses just long enough to glance down at his hand, which hasn’t.

“— I’ve been wondering if I should have you channel that energy and tire yourself out on top of me —”

His touch whispers over your collarbone. It’s the only proof that you have any bones at all. Until now, you were sure that the rest of you had melted entirely, puddling uselessly on the sheets below. This time, when you bite your lips and swallow weakly, it’s not an apology that you’re keeping to yourself but a whimper.

“— or lay you back against the pillows —”

You don’t mean to directly contradict his statement the moment he makes it, but you can’t help it. The thin, cotton fabric of your top does nothing to dull the sensation of his hand on your left breast; leaves you with the unmitigated brush of his thumb tracing delicate swirls over your nipple. The breath you’ve been holding comes out shuddered, back arching off the mattress to chase his touch.

Emboldened by your reaction, Jihoon pulls his gaze off his own ministrations and directs it through his lashes back up at you. One eyebrow momentarily flexes in challenge. “— Take my time, and —”

Whatever desperate look you give him earns you some amount of mercy. He picks up where he left off in that dizzyingly deep voice of his, words molten, and drags the hem of your shirt up your torso. “Fuck you deep, until the only thing you can do is relax.”

Gobsmacked is too weak a word for the impact that suggestion has on you. The idea alone sparks a kind of relief so foreign and so sorely needed that it almost makes you cry. 

You don’t, thankfully. 

Instead, you stagger along the borderline of babbling. 

“I want that,” you announce on a shaky exhale. Then, with a shake of your head, you correct yourself, “No, it’s not even want. It’s —” Frustration over your inability to form a coherent thought drives you to scrub your hands over your face. “— need. I need you.”

You accompany that declaration by slapping your hands down at your sides, finishing off with a muted thump when your palms hit the mattress with enough force to bounce them upwards again. 

Even with your eyes screwed shut, you know Jihoon is sitting back on his knees, watching you with equal parts surprise and amusement. There’s no need to open them to confirm it, but you do anyway. His pupils have dilated widely enough to rival the moon floating over the skyline.

Though he’d be well within bounds to tell you to chill the fuck out, he doesn’t. He never has, as far as you can recall. In fact, Jihoon doesn’t say a thing. His hands speak for him, reaching for the shirt he so nearly got off your body before you lost whatever was left of your mind.

Keeping his word, as always, Jihoon takes his time. He takes care in sliding that tank top up and over your head without snagging your earrings, then he wordlessly drops it off the side of the bed to be forgotten about.

With your chest bare, it’s obvious how rapid your breathing is. Noting the quick rise and fall, he traces the curve of your waist with the side of his right index finger and softly says the quiet part out loud: “Let me take care of you.”

And you do.

You let him maneuver your body so he can settle with one knee between your thighs, rather than straddle them. You let go of your death grip on the sheets and thread your fingers through his hair when he leans back down to kiss you; and when he licks into your mouth, you let him swallow the moan that builds under the delicious weight of his body on yours.

Already, you feel every shitty, stupid thought begin to dissolve. You should’ve known this would be the case. 

He said he’d fix it, didn't he? 

And here he is, proving to you that his touch is magic. All it takes to coax the tension out of your muscles is the tender pass of his hand.

Whatever effect Jihoon has on you seems to be mutual. When he pulls back, he’s equally as breathless, likely just as starry-eyed. Awash in that lilac glow peeking in from the outside, he’s downright celestial — almost too divine to look at directly without watering eyes.

Undeterred, you stare right back at him and sigh, “You’re beautiful.”

His nose scrunches for a split second, just like it always does when you make him suffer through a compliment. Your exposure therapy is working, though. For once, Jihoon doesn’t groan or tell you to keep your praise to yourself. The corner of his mouth curves upward — just barely — and he shakes his head.

“I mean it,” you quietly insist.

Smirking slightly, he extends the index finger on his right hand and holds it to his lips. “You’re relaxing, remember?”

Though you could double-down, any fight you might’ve had in you fizzles out the second he bows his head and connects his lips to the underside of your jaw. Your head tilts further back with every centimeter he trails down the length of your neck, granting him increased access to wreck you even further. You have to keep your hands on whatever you can grip of his biceps — which ultimately isn’t much at all — to keep from floating away.

“Bold of you to call me beautiful,” he murmurs against your body, “When you just exist like this.”

You don’t argue. You can’t argue with a man who sounds so fucking reverent. Not in good faith, anyway. He says it with the kind of sincerity that underlines an undisputed fact; and you know better than to debate an expert.

With nothing to say, all you have left is to keen and melt even further into the mattress.

Like everything else he does, the way Jihoon kisses you is rhythmic. Steady and thoughtful, each feather-light graze of his lips on your skin causes your eyelids to flutter until you eventually decide to keep them shut. To cut out the visual and hone in on the physical sensation; to be truly present in the body he can’t get enough of.

As it turns out, being present earns the gift of his tongue circling one of your nipples. Soon after, you get the plush heat of his mouth enveloping the sensitive bud; the slow, deep pull of the suction he creates.

Eloquent as always, you moan, “Fuuuuck.”

The hand not holding up his weight massages your other breast, too considerate to leave half of you lonely. Whatever gentle pressure he maintains there builds inside you, further down.

It’s incredible.

No, it’s fucking perfect.

Jihoon switches sides, grazes your other nipple carefully with his teeth, and it’s over for you. You shudder beneath his body, back arching and a breathy sigh floating out of your chest.

Apparently, he’s just as surprised by this turn of events as you are. Your eyes blink open and find him hovering over you with his jaw partially dropped, still smiling somehow.

Your questions overlap.

“Did you just —”

“— make me cum from this?”

His bemusement switches in an instant to something you can only describe as bewitched. Voice gravel-lined, Jihoon groans, “Oh, shit.” Adding immediately and twice as earnestly, “Goddamn.”

A flash of conflict makes him freeze. You know he’s facing the same internal debate that you are: he needs to be inside of you in the worst way, right now, but that’s not a conclusion the pair of you can just — leap to. 

There’s simply too much of him to take if he doesn’t fuck you open with his fingers first.

Jihoon shakes his head, as if he’s telling himself no. Like he’s reminding himself of what he promised — or threatened, more like — earlier, that he’s taking his time.

As much as you want to beg otherwise, you know you shouldn’t. So, you don’t. You reach out, encircle his wrist in your hand, and bring him back within reach. 

With undivided attention and darkening eyes, Jihoon watches you take his index and middle finger into your mouth, cheeks hollowing and tongue circling. He fights to keep his eyes from rolling back in his head, all the while professing, “You’re perfect.”

Not generally, no.

However, Jihoon has a habit of ending up correct, even if you disagree. This isn’t a battle worth picking. In this moment, you’re willing to entertain the possibility that you’re perfect for him.

A soft pop underscores your choice to release him. His mouth must’ve gotten jealous; it swiftly replaces his fingers, tongue reclaiming any territory he wrongfully assumes he’s lost.

You’d be content to stay this way forever — and likely could, if it came down to it — but Jihoon has an agenda. He sticks to it, to the letter, and in dropping his hand down your body, he lets his knuckles drag softly over the trail he blazes. The little sleep shorts you wear are moved aside, and your thighs part for him, too, offering unrestricted access.

Two fingers slip inside of you easily, no doubt aided by the orgasm that snuck up on you — the one you’re still thinking about; the one he’ll secretly hang his hat on forever, having brought it on without touching you here at all.

“Listen to you,” he smirks against your lips with a curl of his fingers. 

As if you weren’t already acutely aware of the way you’ve drenched him to the base knuckles, he rolls his wrist, stroking your g-spot while the heel of his hand nudges your clit. Even the dulcet hum of the aircon isn’t enough to mute the obscenity; you hear the slick rush with every slow thrust of his fingers.

You respond with some sort of whimper. The sound barely registers without any breath behind it. If Jihoon hears it, he doesn’t let it affect his pace — just the stretch. He scissors his middle and index on the way out, then returns with his ring finger, unearthing a proper moan from the very bottom of your lungs.

His head tilts to the side. Warm breath hits the shell of your ear, prompting a contradictory shiver. “I think you’ve got another one for me, don’t you?”

Buried in you, he taps his fingers against that same, spongy spot. Every neuron you have begins to buzz.

“In fact, I think you want to cum all over my fingers,” he whispers, goading you with his rough voice dropped low. “Think you wanna soak my fucking hand, so I can fill you properly.”

You think you’ll have to apologize later for the crescent-shaped indents your nails leave on his shoulders.

When your second orgasm overtakes you, you feel it tingling all the way up at the crown of your head. Just like the first, it’s not a clap of thunder but a roll — patient. The intensity only builds, the longer it lasts. Jihoon makes sure it does — makes no adjustment to the slow, steady tempo, as it pulls you fully apart.

Every muscle you tensed as you came goes limp. It’s anyone’s guess whether you have any bones left. You’re sure that the only thing keeping you from seeping like honey through the mattress, or pooling on the floor below, is Jihoon’s body caging you in.

“Don’t ask me what my name is.” Your head droops to the side, and you mumble, “I do not remember, and I do not care.”

He kisses the temple that isn’t smushed against his left forearm, which, coupled with his elbow, now holds both of your weight. “If you’re spent, I can sto—”

“Don’t you dare.”

The emphatic look you muster lacks energy, you’re sure, but the point still stands, even if your stamina doesn’t. Half-lidded, you stare at him with all the force you can find.

“I’ll stay awake for the rest of my life if you stop now. I swear to you, Lee Jihoon, I will die on this hill.”

“Easy, tiger,” he purrs. Out of the corner of your narrowed eyes, you clock the fond smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “The whole point of this was for you to relax.”

To prove that you haven’t lost the plot entirely, you close your eyes, rather than roll them. Then, you cave completely. 

You whisper, leaving no question as to how badly you need him, “Jihoon… Please.”

“I’ve got you.” He nudges your temple with the tip of his nose. “But I can’t fuck you unless you give my arm back.”

Begrudgingly, you scoot your head several centimeters across the pillow, heaving a put-upon sigh as if he’s asked you to move a mountain instead. You give yourself a moment to mourn the loss of your headrest, then you open your eyes. As you do, any thought of pouting flies out the window.

Having crawled back to the end of your bed, Jihoon gets to his feet. Once there, he drops his hands and eyes to the loose knot cinching the waistband of his sweatpants. It’s a sight you’ve seen a thousand times — his naked chest so pale in contrast with his usual, all-black attire — yet it’s one you’ll never truly get over. Even harder to cope with is the fact that he’s never been in a hurry; not once in his goddamn life.

If you’re being honest, that’s one of the things you’ve always loved most about him. Envied, even. You fret endlessly about the process, whatever that may be; he trusts it. You scale the walls in anticipation; he’s never been caught sweating.

The best example of this comes the second he finishes addressing that knot. His sweatpants pool at his ankles; he kicks them aside; and you immediately set to wondering how in the motherfuck he managed to be so patient with you when he’s this incomprehensibly hard.

Really, you don’t deserve him.

Nevertheless, you get him anyway. 

Him pushing his flyways out of his face; him reaching out slowly to hook his fingers under the elastic band of your shorts; him cursing under his breath when he tosses those shorts over his shoulder and finds you wet and wanting.

In return, Jihoon gets you right where he wants you — trembling underneath him, with pliant legs opening wider at the request of his hands on your thighs. When his body fills the space between them, those same legs wrap around his back to keep him close, just like the arms you slink around his neck.

“Deep breath,” he reminds you as he lines himself up, only half-jokingly.

It’s good advice — something Jihoon probably should’ve heeded. 

He doesn’t. 

You keep your eyes on his when he slides inside of you, and you swear you see his mind blow in real time. Not that you have room to judge, however. In fact, that’s precisely what’s causing you to short-circuit: the perfect pressure of his length within your heat, sinking in slowly so as to not shock the system.

When he eventually bottoms out, low moan splintering from the depths of his chest, you have to blink quickly to keep tears within your waterline.

To check in, Jihoon runs his hand along the side of your thigh then back again. “Alright?”

Whatever you say in response comes out through a dreamy sigh, framed in quotation marks by fluttering lashes. Nonsense, most likely, or never better. In either case, he’ll understand; he always does.

Placing your hand on his, you slip your fingers over the top and pull him forward. He lets you, comes down carefully until the comfort of his weight against your frame makes you feel anchored. With every inch that’s erased between you, he fills you further, pushing out whatever air remains in your lungs through some needy little whine.

Among the million sensations you have to grapple with, the most hard-hitting, ironically, is comfort. Pure and unadulterated. You enveloping him, enveloping you.

To prove it to yourself that you’re not dreaming, you slip your fingers into his hair, nails scratching delicately over his scalp. In return, he rolls his hips forward, just like he promised — slow, steady, deep. You clench around him involuntarily, a reflex your body must’ve learned to keep him close.

“Love the way you grip me, but...” Jihoon exhales a sigh against your neck, head tilted to keep your face in his periphery. Pulling out further just to thrust in deeper, he warns, “You keep that up, and I’ll cum too soon.”

He’s one to talk.

Every time he grinds his hips languidly towards yours, you have to talk yourself off the ledge. 

If you let him wear you down again, you fear that there won’t be enough left of you to savor this; and you never want this moment to end. You want to live in it — to feel the delicious drag of his cock along your walls — to hear that obscene tide ebb and flow whenever he fucks himself further in you — to feel so fucking full —  for as long as he gives you. 

It was a valiant effort on your part, if you do say so yourself. Futile, though, because Jihoon pulls out all the stops. The next time he pulls himself from you just to roll back in, he swivels his hips as he thrusts, ensuring that you feel him everywhere.

“Oh.”

One syllable on a gasping breath, then you forget every single word in your vocabulary. Like warm molasses, bliss washes over you at half-speed, seeping in and sticking until the blender motor in your brain is fucked beyond repair.

At least you’re not the only one.

“Fuck, fuck —” 

Holding him as closely as you are, you feel each muscle in Jihoon’s body tense one-by-one, rippling as your third orgasm steals his first, going lax when his release floods. “— Fuck,” he groans, all the while twitching inside you.

Though he slows, he doesn’t stop. It’s not until he pants, “Kiss me,” that you realize it: Jihoon doesn’t intend to stop.

Neither, it seems, do you.

Maybe you’re greedy. Maybe you’re too obsessed with the brush of his tip against your cervix with every gentle, shallow thrust. Maybe, above all, it’s the way his cock doesn’t soften inside of you but his face does when he catches you looking at him from under a heavy curtain of lashes.

You catch him by the mouth, just like he asked. It’s indulgent — messy, echoing the other point where the two of you connect. Licking into him while he fucks himself into you, ragged breaths barely loud enough to overpower the explicit, sodden sound below.

“Can you still speak in sentences?” He pants in a rare moment when his lips break from yours.

Can feel you in my stomach, you want to say. 

“I’m — you’re gonna make me —”

You can’t choke out the words, though you suspect Jihoon gets the point. This far in, his touch reaches a detonator you didn’t even know existed; there’s no way he misses the explosion of pleasure throughout your entire goddamn body.

He’s caught in your blast radius, your walls pulsing and spasming to such an insane degree that he can barely move. Mind blown to fucking smithereens, your ears ring too loudly to hear whatever he says to you when he cums again — hard — and the arms bearing his weight buckle.

Jihoon’s flushed cheek winds up pressed to your shoulder. He stays there while your joint trembling subsides, then any muscle that could make him move is too spent to do so.

“What just happened?” He sounds as delirious as you feel. “That was… shit. What did your body just do?”

You have no idea. 

You have no capacity to form any.

All you have is the weight of his frame on yours and that of your eyelids, which flutter as you try and fail to keep them open. The best you can give is a non-responsive, utterly fucked-out sound — not enough shape to be a word, not enough breath to be a sigh.

Eventually, although you can’t imagine how, Jihoon finds enough strength to shift himself off of you. You don’t see anything that happens next, but you feel it all — the kiss to your temple; the hollowness when he pulls out and the sticky rush that chases him when he leaves.

“I’m coming back to clean you up,” he promises in a hushed tone from a million miles away. Chuckling despite his own sleepiness, he adds, “Don’t move.”

I won’t, you think but don’t say.

And you don’t move.

At least, not until the smell of hotteok reaches you eight hours later.

svt taglist: @ashonheavenscloud @variety-is-the-joy-of-life @rasparagus @bouclesdefeu @ourkivee @sourkimchi @gyuguys

multi taglist: @bahng-chrizz @jihopesjoint @notevenheretbh1 @borabitsch @bubbly-moon

also paging the cap gang: @daechwitatamic @yoongukie-ff

[starlost-maniac]

I Slept with My Boss - Ch 3

Warnings/genre: SMUT, piv, pia, protected sex, one night stand, mxf, mxm, multiple orgasms, multiple partners, club/drinks, voyeurism, pet names, daddy kink, double pen, oral, public sex (no witnesses), user is called a slut this chapter, slight asphyxiation, squirting, Mean SeungIN

Pairing: ot8 SKZ x fem!reader

MINORS AND AGELESS BLOGS, DNI

dividers made by @cafekitsune

It was the weekend, and Yoonae wanted to take you out again. You allowed her to take you to a new club that did karaoke, but you told her that you would listen. Not participate. She complained playfully but agreed.

You didn't drink any alcohol tonight, opting for just juice. Yoonae drank plenty and sang a few songs between other patrons or with other patrons. When she finally made her way back to you, she probably sang about 10 songs already. The patrons loved her.

"Are you sure you don't wanna sing, Y/n?" She asked, sitting next to you. You smile and shake your head.

"I'm sure, Yoonae. I'm not much of a singer." You watch the stage as two men walk up, selecting a song. Yoonae watches as well, grinning.

"They're cute. Maybe I can get them for you." She giggles.

"What is with you and getting me two guys at once?" You laugh. You didn't really mind it, but you were curious. She just shrugs.

"Two is better than one?" She looks at you, wiggling her eyebrows again. You can't help but laugh. The duo on stage sing a few songs, and Yoonae goes to them once they're done and off the stage to see if they'd be interested in a hook up with you. You don't know how she manages to get these guys to agree when you normally have such trouble getting a guy's attention.

She walks back over to you, grin on her face. She sits down next to you. You watch her and raise a brow at her.

"They own the club and saw us walk in. They are definitely interested in you, Y/n." You stare at her, shocked that the club owners were interested. "They said to go to the VIP section in an hour, and the bouncer will let you in." She winks at you.

"I think I may actually need a drink now." You laugh a little. Your friend questions if you really wanted one and buys it when you say yeah. You end up downing it quickly, finishing the rest of your juice as well before heading to the VIP area. The bouncer looks you over and raises a brow. He refuses to let you in.

"You're not on the list." He crosses his arms.

"I was told the owners wanted me to come here in an hour." Your voice was getting quiet.

"Right. And I'm King Henry the 4th." He rolls his eyes. Just as you turned around, you saw both the men who said they were the owners coming up.

"Frank. Let her in. She's our special guest for the night." The one with black and blonde hair said. The bouncer straightens up and nods, apologizing. He steps out of the way, opening the rope barrier for all three of you. The two owners smile and lead you inside.

The first part of the VIP section is just like the regular bar, but with exclusive access. The second part is private rooms downstairs and upstairs. They lead you to a booth downstairs and have you sit, sitting on either side of you.

"So, what's a pretty little thing like you doing here?" The owner with short black hair asks, looking you over.

"Honestly, my friend is taking me out. Trying to help me get over someone." You say, a bit nervous.

"I think we can definitely help with that." The black and white-haired one says. "As long as you're ok with it, obviously." You look the two owners over. They give off fox and puppy vibes.

"I am. My friend wouldn't have come to you if I wasn't." You laugh a bit.

"Good. Color system, because we will get a bit mean. Is that ok?"

"Yeah, that's ok. I'm green." Both the men grin. The one with fox-like features grabs one of your hands, his other hand wrapping around your waist. He pulls you into his lap, making you straddle his lap, your dress riding up. He smirks when you squeak, seeing your cheeks flush.

"You are really beautiful, by the way." He snakes his large hands around you, placing his hands on your ass, squeezing. You squeak out a thank you, which makes them both laugh. The one that reminds you of a puppy moves closer, reaching up between you. He gently grabs your breast, feeling your nipple harden through the fabric.

"No bra?" He chuckles, pinching your nipple through the fabric, making you gasp softly. "I wonder what other delicious sounds you can make. I.N, since you have her in your lap, go ahead and see what sounds you can pull from her." He smirks, leaning back against the seat.

I.N smirks and reaches up, pulling the top of your dress down, uncovering your breasts. Leaning down, he bites your nipple before harshly sucking on it. You wince a bit at hard he bit you, but moan right after. Your hands snake up to his hair as his goes back to your hips. He pulls your hips down, making you grind against him, his cock hard in his pants.

I.N groans against your nipple as you moan a little loud, your head lolling back some. Holding onto him, you grind against him slowly, letting out breathy moans. The fox-like boy releases your now tender nipple.

"She makes beautiful noises, Seungmin-hyung." He mumbles before moving to your other nipple, repeating the actions. Seungmin chuckles beside him.

"Such pretty sounds." He mumbles, palming himself through his slacks. I.N releases your hips, reaching between you to undo his pants, quickly pulling his cock out. He releases your nipple with a pop and looks up at you, grinning when he sees how flushed you are. He takes one of your hands and moves it to his leaking dick. You grasp him and slowly start stroking. His lips part slightly, a soft moan coming from his lips.

"Feels so good.." he mumbles. He pulls a condom out of his pocket, watching as you stroke him faster, teasing his tip with your thumb. He grunts as his hips buck into your hand. He opens the condom and takes your hand off him, slipping the rubber on. He grabs your hip with one hand, the other slips between your legs, pulling your panties to the side. He pulls your hips closer to him, pushing you down onto his length, hard. You moan out and arch your back some.

"Mm..fuck. You're so tight." He groans out, pushing you down completely onto him. Seungmin watches from his seat next to you. I.N leans forward and bites the crook of your neck, groaning against your skin.

"What's your color, sweetheart?" Seungmin asks, still palming himself.

"Green." You gasp out. "So fucking green.."

Seungmin smirks. "Hear that Innie. She's still green." Jeongin grips your hips with both hands, still biting onto you. He helps you move your hips, releasing your neck before placing kisses along where he bit. You grind your hips into his, moaning out. You feel him deep inside you, his tip pressing against your cervix. He sits back in his seat, watching as you move your hips in a circle.

As you start to bounce on him, he reaches up and grabs onto your breasts, squeezing them and pinching your nipples. You moan loudly, your cheeks flushing when you remember you're in public. Both men chuckle.

"Be as loud as you want. Remember we own this club, and you're our special guest for the night." Seungmin says. Your cheeks flush a bit more and you nod slightly. I.N thrusts up into you before pulling you off him. He maneuvers you so you're turned around on him, your back against his chest now. He slips his cock back into you and groans. One hand creeps around your neck, squeezing.

"Color, darling?" I.N asks. You squeak out a 'green' and moan again. His other hand lays on your stomach as he thrusts up into you hard. He bites onto the other side of your neck, leaving more bite marks across your neck and shoulders as well as sucking large hickeys on you. Your head lolls back onto his shoulder as Seungmin reaches over to slip his hand into your panties.

"Sorry, Innie. I need to touch her." He says, fingers finding your clit, slowly circling the nub. You try to arch your back, I.N holding you down against him. He releases your neck slightly so you can breathe, his thrusts getting harder as Seungmin rubs your clit faster. The fox-like boy groans when he feels you clench around him.

"Gonna be a good little slut and cum for us, hmm?" He squeezes your neck again, grinding up into you, making you moan loudly. You arch again as much as you're able to, cumming hard around him. I.N groans as he continues fucking you through your high before he cums inside the condom, his cock twitching as he cums. Seungmin takes his hand out of your panties, smirking. I.N releases your neck and turns your head to face him. He kisses you deeply and groans into your mouth when you clench around him again.

"Color?" He mumbles, kissing across your cheek to nibble on your earlobe.

"Green." You gasp out. The boys chuckle. I.N lifts you off him, Seungmin puts you into his lap next. You feel his cock against your ass. When did he take himself out? Jeongin takes his condom off and ties it off as Seungmin has you bending forward on the table. He puts his own condom on and pushes himself into you harshly. Seungmin grabs one of your hands and holds it against your back, making sure he isn't hurting you before he bucks his hips up to yours.

"Such a little slut. Letting us fuck you like this, where anyone can see you." He grinds into you. I.N chuckles and reaches over, grabbing your ass as Seungmin fucks into you hard. He moves so he's half kneeling on the booth chair, fucking into you deeper. I.N smacks your ass, your cunt clenching around Seungmin hard. "Mm. She's likes that, Innie." He lets go of your arm and grabs onto the back of your neck, keeping you down on the table.

"Does she now?" The black and white-haired boy grins, smacking your ass again. You gasp and moan, clenching around his friend again. Seungmin groans and leans down, placing kisses along your back. He leaves hickies of varying sizes. He sits up and smirks, happy with himself. Reaching around you, he finds your clit again and circles the sensitive nub. I.N slips his fingers down to your other hole, immediately slipping two long fingers inside. You arch your back and let out a grumbling moan.

"Such a good fucking slut." He snaps his hips into you hard, his cock head pushing hard into your cervix. You gasp and moan, tears starting to drip from your eyes. "Color, sweetheart?" They ask.

"Don't..don't stop. Gr-green..so so fucking green." They both chuckle, I.N slipping a third finger into your ass as Seungmin fucks as hard and fast as he can. He rubs your clit harshly as he groans.

"Fucking cum, slut. I want to feel you cum so fucking hard around me." Seungmin just about growls at you, gripping your neck a little harder but not hard enough to leave marks. You feel your eyes roll back, moaning loud as drool dribbles out of your mouth. I.N finger fucks your ass as fast and hard as he can, Seungmin grinding hard into you, the sound of his hips against yours almost audible over the club music beyond the VIP area. You arch your back some, palms flat on the table as you cum hard. You clench around both men, your body shuddering at how hard you came.

"Fucking hell, hyung." Jeongin says, laughing in excitement. "I've never seen a girl cum this hard before." He continues his ministrations in your ass as Seungmin keeps fucking into your sopping cunt.

"She squirted too, Innie." Seungmin chuckles. "I felt it. We are taking her upstairs after this." He grins. He grunts loud as he thrusts into you once more, cumming into the condom. He releases your neck and holds your hips. Leaning down, he places soft kisses along your back, trapping I.N's hand between your bodies.

"You ok, darling?" I.N asks, leaning over to look at you. You nod a little, a soft 'yeah' slipping from you. Seungmin stands up straight, carefully pulling you up with him as I.N slips his fingers out of you. Seungmin sits down, still inside you, pulling you into his lap. The boys look at you and chuckle. "You look absolutely fucked out. Let's get you upstairs and get you some water."

They fixed your dress and panties, discarding their condoms in a bin on the way upstairs. Bringing you to the third floor—surprised your legs still worked after that fucking—they brought you to a room that read 'Authorized Personal Only.'

"First time we get to use this room with a patron and not with the others." Seungmin chuckles.

"Don't tell Jinnie. He'll get so jealous he didn't get to watch." I.N laughs, shutting the door behind you. It looked more homey than usual VIP rooms do. Seungmin leads you to the bed on the other side of the room as I.N went to get you some water and something quick to eat. Once they were sure you were sated, they asked your color again. Once hearing green, I.N had his lips on yours, quickly taking your dress and panties off. Seungmin grins beside you, getting a proper look at your body.

"Fuck, you're so beautiful." He whispers out, reaching over to pinch your hard nipples, making you moan into I.N's mouth. "Be as loud as you want here. No one will be able to hear." He leans over, kissing and sucking on your neck, groping your breasts. "Innie.." I.N let's out a sound so Seungmin knows he's listening, moving to kiss your lips. "I need to fuck her mouth." I.N pulls away, gently pulling your lower lip with his teeth, a mischievous grin splayed across his lips.

Seungmin picks you up and tosses you onto your back, crawling over you, his face between your legs, cock hanging over your lips. You lift your head and take the tip into your mouth. You moan as he licks between your folds. He lowers his hips a bit, slipping a bit more of his cock between your lips before he starts fucking into your mouth.

I.N kneels on the edge of the bed, slipping a condom onto his cock. "Watch your head, hyung." He spreads your legs and positions himself at your ass. Seungmin shifts a bit, putting his head in a better position so his friend can fuck you while he eats you out. Seungmin groans against your cunt as he watches I.N's long dick penetrate your ass. He carefully slides his own dick down your throat. You moan around Seungmin as he shoves his tongue deep into your entrance.

"How's she taste, hyung?" I.N bottoms out inside your ass.

"So fucking good. Probably the best pussy I've had in a long time." He sucks on your clit, inserting three fingers immediately inside you, making you arch and clench around them. I.N holds onto the back of your knees, keeping your legs spread wide for them as he starts fucking into you slow and hard. You hold onto Seungmin's sides, nails digging into his skin as you suck hard on his cock, hollowing your cheeks. Seungmin grunts when you accidentally scratch him and I.N chuckles.

"I can not wait to fucking taste her." I.N grins, grunting as he fucks into to your ass hard and fast. Seungmin curls his fingers inside you, making you arch your back and scratch him again as you suck on and moan around his cock. You clench hard around the men as your orgasm crashes over you quickly. Neither of them let up until Seungmin cums down your throat and I.N cums into the condom. They both pull out of you, Seungmin licking up your release from your cunt and his fingers before they switch spots. Seungmin's wrapped cock now at your ass, and I.N hovering over you, his cock at your lips and his head at your cunt.

They fuck you and eat you out like this until you're all cumming again. You are amazed at how much stamina they both have. They give you a little bit to catch your breath, helping you drink some water.

"Still green?" Seungmin asks, laying next to you now, your head on his chest. He was playing with your nipple absentmindedly. I.N laid on your other side, rubbing your clit slowly, scrolling on his phone. He wasn't really paying attention to his phone, instead listening to the soft whimpers that you made at the over stimulation. You nod at Seungmin's question, breathing hard. You feel his chest rumble with a quiet laugh. "Think you have at least one more in you? I wanna fuck you with Innie." You nod again.

"I think I can do one more." You let out a breathy laugh. Both boys chuckle. Getting up, they both grab a new condom, putting it on their still hard lengths. I.N picks you up, wrapping your arms and legs around him as he easily slides into your sensitive entrance. You let out a shuddery moan and lean your head on his shoulder. Seungmin steps up behind you, prodding your ass with his tip, carefully sliding into you. I.N holds onto your ass as Seungmin holds onto your thighs. They carefully lift you and drop you onto their cocks, pulling deep moans out of you. You felt extremely full with them both inside you.

"Look at this little slut, hyung. She's taking both our cocks so well." I.N says, looking at his friend over your head. Seungmin smirks as he thrusts up hard into you. "You like having our cocks stuff you full, slut?" He asks you, gripping your thighs.

"Y-yeesss…" you moan loudly, your nails digging into I.N's back. Leaving scratches up to his shoulders, you arch into him as you clench around them both as you cum.

"Such a good fucking slut, arent you?" Seungmin whispers in your ear. "Our little slut." He chuckles, fucking you faster. They cum nearly at the same time together. Seungmin slips out of you, going to the bathroom to discard his condom and to get a clean rag to clean you up with. Laying you on the bed as Seungmin steps to the bathroom, I.N slips out of you and helps you drink some more water. Seungmin comes back out and switches with I.N so his friend can go get clean. Seungmin cleans you gently, placing a few soft kisses to your lips.

"How you doing, hm?" He asks softly. "We weren't too rough on you?" He sets the empty bottle on the floor by the bed. You shake your head.

"Mm-mm. I enjoyed it." You smile before yawning. I.N comes out and lays on your other side, draping his arm over your stomach.

"I'm glad you enjoyed yourself tonight. Now get some rest." He kisses you a few times before all three of you settle down for the night.

Taglist:

@honeyybbuubblleess @gnabnahcbby @skzittomebabyuhhuhx3 @kenia4 @sweetprincessleah

[sandrakir31]

Hello. I think it's time to explain a situation you may have encountered in the Rescue Bots fandom.

The first screenshots are already about a month old. Here you can see me responding to people on the tag about WHY some artists draw Blades with white skin and why that even has a right to exist. I would like to clarify that one of the authors said that: "If an artist draws humanization of characters (that is, not only Blades, but also other bots) in white, then he deserves to have his pencil taken away". Maybe it was said in jest, I'm not sure, but I thought it necessary to say that artists, in principle, always draw exactly what they themselves like.

I'll add that I myself don't care at all what skin color you give to the transformers, but don't scold other artists for this.

You can see the whole post at the link: https://www.tumblr.com/sandrakir31/771089245225025536/okay-i-see-that-our-argument-is-becoming?source=share

This conflict, as I thought, ended back in December. I apologized and said straight out that we had a misunderstanding. And I really didn't want to argue about it anymore.

But to my regret, it continued here. Sorry, the author deleted the post so there will be no link.

Same topic, same argument. But they just start insulting me from the very beginning.

I understand everything, but maybe sometimes take into account that not everyone here knows English at the slang level.

The author of the post above, I am truly sorry that this could scare you. And I really said that we are simply raising your activity on the page with this dispute.

But what's the funniest thing? This character went to apologize to the author INSTEAD OF ME FOR MY OWN WORDS. Sorry, but you're not really my mom.

Well, I was blocked and that seemed to be it. But...

Post: https://www.tumblr.com/oldeubagel/7734039402849894 40/sometimes-i-think-about-how-a-grown-ass-20-years?source=share

Dear oldeubagel, if you could just pm me and talk to me calmly about this instead of acting like a child and spreading misinformation about me, this post wouldn't be here. Let me clarify that I don’t care about other people’s age from the start, until these people start picking on mine.

I'm sorry I'm cluttering up the tag, but I thought it was worth explaining the situation.

[ruinparadox]

Full deamon husk x shy gn reader in a beauty and the beast like relationship

I'm actually so upset I hadn't thought of this idea before because its so good. Like, you can't just drop a banger idea like this and just not elaborate!

The Beast and his Beauty - Full demon form overlord Husk x Gn!Reader

It’s been a few months since that fateful day. A casino stands at the edge of the city, all but abandoned. The tables are barren, the cards are rotted, and the castle-like building has only one resident, and now one hostage. You swore up and down to your friend that they should not just throw themselves into the casino just to fish for gold and whatnot on the off chance that the overlord who purportedly lives there has somehow died off in the past few centuries of his life.

But no matter how you tried, no matter how you pleaded, they simply waved you off and made for the decrepit castle. One day turned into two. Two days turned into a week into a month, and you left for the castle as well. Other sinners called out to you, trying to warn you of the dangers, but you didn’t heed them. Your friend was in danger and you needed to help them, safety be damned.

Interestingly, the casino stands opposite of the Hazbin Hotel. Atop a hill, behind a tall gate, sequestered away from the big city. It's such a short distance, yet so far away. The metal creaks as you push the entrance open, rust coating the exterior. And just like that you’re scrambling up the hill towards that ornate but blemished door. You grab the handle and notice that it isn’t locked. The mechanism must have eroded away or the overlord is eager to hunt for prey within his walls. Either way, you gain free entry into the estate.

Bravely, or perhaps foolishly, you call into the depths of the halls, your friend’s name reverberating like a siren call. And like a moth to a flame, the overlord appears. He is a hulking beast, his stature so tall he takes up half the entrance hall of the casino floor. His tail is covered in scars and spines, his wings tattered and frail, the colors of the feathers dull and grey. Barely enough plumes for him to assume a brief bout of flight. 

A snarl rumbles in his throat, his face riddled with soot with his face taking the shape of a tiger who’s muzzle is scrunched and wrinkled in perpetual anger. His eyes are like gemstones, glowing in the dark, his slit pupils watching your every move. He’s a predator eyeing prey in his territory. The scythes for talons and claws on his giant paws scratch the floor as he stalks towards you, leaving deep wounds in the marble panels.

“Why are you here?” You could feel the castle shake with his distorted voice. He sounds so… tired.

Why else are you here? For your friend. You demand to know where they are, right now. You demand for their release. 

“Friend? You mean this little plaything?” His tail comes around from behind him, the tip hooked through the hoop of a cage and your friend dangling inside it. “I am merely defending my home from intruders. Intruders such as you, if that wasn’t clear. Why should I release them?”

Indeed, why should he? He has no reason to care about you, a strange person trespassing on the monument to his shame. He has no desires to cling to, no vices to drown in. What could you possibly have to offer the beast who wants nothing but to be left alone?

A question that leaves you stumped. No amount of money could lift him from this state. He’d just gamble it all away again on the vain hopes some windfall might come his way. You can’t offer him power, he has that in droves, not that it's done him much good. And redemption is far too flimsy a concept for him to take on faith.

No, there’s only one thing you could give him. Your soul.

Immediately, your friend is banging at the bars of their cage, crying out in protest, but your gaze is fixed firmly on the beast towering over you, its breath brushing through your fur. 

“You would gamble away your soul on something so small?” He’s almost surprised you’d even considered it, let alone actually offered. But nevertheless, as terrified as you are, even as your body shakes in anxiety and fear, your gaze does not drop. You will see this through. Though to what end? Even you yourself aren’t sure.

His eyes narrow down at you, but he accepts your proposal. You utter an apology to your friend as they cry and beg for you to take it back. They’re cast out after the beast places a spell on them to never speak or mention anything about what took place and can never return to the castle beyond the gate.

In the next second, the beast has returned, and your friend is barred from the estate, their figure barely visibly beyond the gates at the foot of the hill. A golden manacle manifests itself around your neck, a chain rattling as it extends to the beast. You expect him to yank you towards him, but surprisingly, he doesn’t. Instead, he looks down on it, and lets it fall to the floor, its brilliant yet ominous glow fading out of sight.

You don’t even get a word in before he’s stalking off to some unknown part of the castle, his voice quiet as he mumbles for you to “do whatever you want.”

It's been a few months since that day, and you two have grown close since then. The beast, whose name you now know as “Husk,” is trapped in his own casino, surrounded by nothing but forgotten bets and dried up alcohol. He can’t even drink the pain away anymore. He refuses to elaborate when asked about what is keeping him here.

At first, he’s distant and grumpy, barely acknowledging your presence with small grunts, let alone words. You attempt to talk to him, but whether he can hear you, or is just outright ignoring you is anyone’s guess. With conversation a moot front, you attempt to at least make a space for yourself to sleep and live in. If you are going to be staying in a decrepit castle, you might as well make it as comfortable as you can.

He sees you attempting to clear out a room as best you can, but the dust, dirt, and rot are endless. Begrudgingly, he tells you to stop and to just sleep in his room. There’s a lot less dirt and it has the only bed in the entire building that hasn’t crumbled to dust.

The bed in question is more than half the size of the room, a large circle mattress dressed in blemished silk sheets. You imagine it must have looked lavish in the casino’s heyday. You find yourself impressed when it's revealed that the room is capable of housing both you and Husk, the giant resting his head on the empty half of the bed next to you. 

His breathing is soft, but given the size difference it's a veritable gust of wind ruffling your clothes in your sleep. No matter, you’ll just have to use a few more blankets from now on. Assuming there are still any left.

In the next few days you do some exploring of the grounds. You’re not allowed outside, lest you bring more intruders to disturb his territory, but you’re free to go wherever you wish inside. It is then you happen across a closet filled with dresses and other clothes somehow untouched by the ravages of time. Husk is equally surprised but says you can have them. Normally they’d be gifts for his employees if they excelled at their jobs but… well, you get the idea by now, don’t you?

Happily, you put one of them on, looking at yourself twirling about in a cracked vanity mirror. In the reflection, you catch Husk staring at you with a look that’s less than grumpy as he usually is. He notices you looking at him and immediately turns around, his tail nearly knocking you over as he grumbles about taking a nap.

The weeks go by and you catch Husk looking at you more and more, a glint of something you can’t quite recognize in his eyes. It escalates from there. Purrs rumbling the castle, an unexpected nuzzle here or there, and his tail gently wrapping around you.

He refuses to say anything about it until you confront him directly. Reluctantly, he tells you of days long past, when dancers lined the stage, when bright lights and strong drinks bathed the walls, when money flowed through the establishment like water through a dam… when a horrible deal gone wrong took everything from him and one by one, the people disappeared. 

Soon there were no dancers, no booze, no lights, and no money. He’s been here all alone in his self imposed exile. It's not that he can’t leave, but he won’t. For what purpose would that serve? There’s nothing waiting for him out there. Nothing that could fill the hole in his heart. A hole he carved out himself.

At least, that’s what he thought until recently. Until he felt a spark go off within him when he saw you wear that dress, smiling like you were ready to go dancing. He feels something for you, but he can’t trust himself to not mess it up, to not ruin it like he did everything else. 

You give him a smile and he feels his fur go warm for a bit. You tell him that he won’t know if it will work if he doesn’t try. That seems to touch something inside him and for the first time in a while, he smiles. 

That night, you two make for a ballroom. Not sure why a casino needs one, but neither of you really care right now. You two dance and dance throughout the night. Well, more like you’re the one dancing and he’s gently guiding you with his talons. He’s far too big to move about in such a manner without causing some damage.

Still, it doesn’t matter, both of you have fun, and the next few weeks, it only gets better. You two are now having dinner together with what little food you can find or afford, you’re allowed to go outside and buy or steal anything you need, and you now sleep together on the bed, his body curled around yours to give you all the warmth you need.

You tell your friend that you’re okay and you don’t need rescuing. You pack your things from the hotel and move them into Husk’s castle, saying goodbye to your friends while promising to visit. Redemption is overrated. And whether your lives end from being redeemed, or from an exorcist's blade, or perhaps they never end at all, you’re just happy to spend your life next to a beautiful creature such as he.

It doesn’t matter that he can’t return to his normal form anymore. You love him just the way he is.

[technicallybeautifulfest]

Oh hello SOMEONE WANTS TO GET TO KNOW ME I'm putting this in my diary 🫶🏼

Thank you @bitching-and-witching for tagging me🥰

🎧Last Song🎧: idk honestly, my fiance and I have Playlists together for different moods (smoking, ear worms, working out, etc) so it may have been Fall Out Boy or LP or Coheed and Cambria....this morning though inhave doechii stuck in my head(:

🎨Favorite Color🎨: this changes all the time!! Right now I'm obsessed with purple, pink, and green. I do have a favorite color combination though and it's peach and grey

Like how stinking pretty is that? I also love pink and white together.

📚Last Book📚: i just picked reading back up so I haven't finished anything in a while but the last one I did finish was Nineteen Minutes by Jodi Picoult. It is about a school shooting and was written in a time when a school shooting in America was a national tragedy and not another Tuesday. I have started other books more recently but have yet to finish. The most recent book I opened is actually a self help book to help me control my mean girl inner dialog.

🍿Last Movie🍿: does Dead Meats Kill Count count? If not, it was a studio ghibli. I can't remember which one though, I think Spirited Away.

📺Last TV Show📺: Bridgerton! I literally finally started it yesterday and I am already so into it. I love love LOVE drama TV shows. I hadn't watched this one until now though because I usually don't like period pieces like this but I've been hearing only good things about the show since it came out. I'm only a few episodes in so far but I can and will binge watch like crazy so we'll see how long before o finish it lol

🍔sweet/spicy/savory🍔: spicy. I know i have been blessed with a weak stomach/GI system but so far I am (somehow) still able to eat spicy foods. I don't typically like sweets but I will have some times when a craving is too strong and I need a zebra cake. Savory is also OK but I will add hot sauce(:

🌀Current Obsession🌀: YouTube. 🙃 Dead Meat has become a staple in this house over the last few months. Also watch a ton of Memoria, Any Austin, Gabi Belle, and Game Grumps. Oh and Let's Game It Out for when I need a little chaos.

🔍Last Thing Searched🔍: how to spell Gabis name lmao

👀Looking Forward To 👀 : a job?! Lmao I have only worked about 6 months out of the last 2 years. I hate it and I hate being so broke. I know with everything going on politically in this world it doesn't matter but I miss having GOOD HAIR CONDITIONER?! And also the ability to put away for savings for a house but the conditioner too cause I will chop off my hair if it's too dry lol.

Uhm idk who i would like to know better lol I have yet to try to reach out anywhere and now I don't know how to end this wow awkward bye (actually going back to the previous post I follow some of those accounts and would also like to know them more)

// 10 People I'd like to know better //

I got tagged by @kbthebearcat and @captain-clandestiny THANK YOU GUYS

🎧Last song🎧: I am not sure to be honest 😭 i was listening a mixed playlist on shuffle but i last remember listening to return to forever and when i fall in love

🎨Favorite color🎨: THE ONE AS MY BLOG BACKGROUND i am obsessed 💔 AND A WARMER TONE OF MUSTARD YELLOW tbh all the natural colors really 🤭

📚last book📚: I am not much of a reader, but i read "Ağrı Dağı Efsanesi" as homework. (Browsed the recap but sshhh)

🍿Last movie🍿: Ugh i am so embarrassed but Sonic 3. MY FRIENDS FORCED ME OKAY?!. Like you can't expect someone who likes "The Game", "Silence of the lambs", "there will be blood", "Jane Eyre" etc to like such a movie- i am REALLY picky about what i watch. But yeah it was Sonic 3 I'm sorry 💀

📺 Last tv show 📺: It was "Baby Raindeer" i guess... It was alright.

🍔 sweet/spicy/savory 🍔: Savory 😌

🌀Current obsession🌀: ASSASSIN'S CREED ASSASSIN'S CREED ASSASSIN'S CREED ASSASSIN'S CREED ASSASSIN'S CREED

Finished the ezio trilogy and now playing unity and black flag. Torturing myself by replaying missions (in unity) over and over until i perfectly ghost them. People hate that game for some reason but i like it a lot tbh

🔍 Last thing searched 🔍:

I was answering the ask then i called Hargrove "passed away recently". i was sure it was not as "recently" so i searched to find out. 2018 was the date. He was such a nice trumpeter. I found about him after coming up with Roy and now one of his songs i think is roy if he was a song. Here's the song for those wondering !

👀looking forward to👀: nothing specific. But i am curious about the gt of that upcoming fable game. Probably can't afford it and don't have the hardware to run it so I'll watch the gameplays 💀

People I'd like to know better:

@justagiantpotato @pipinpali @pacthesis @ohnobrooo @paxmorgana @guaxinimraccoon @olivexing @territorialrain