#blade projection plate

[sw5w]

Maul Defends

STAR WARS EPISODE I: The Phantom Menace 02:01:44

[youraverageaemondsimp]

ERROR 404 // Dark!AI!Aemond Targaryen x Fem!Reader [ONE SHOT]

THIS IS DARK FIC, READER DISCRETION IS ADVISED, DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT.

MDNI.

Summary: working on a project that involves a robot doesn't seem too bad until that robot starts gaining sentience, developing feelings for you and executing a plan to take over the world.

WARNINGS: noncon to dubcon, futuristic themes, obsession, manipulation, caging, p in v sex (although I'm not sure it counts as that it's a robot cock), fingering, oral (f receiving), tiddy sucking, rough sex, mind break, multiple orgasms, jealousy, yandere, project gone wrong, robots take over the world, consciousness transfer, this fic is unrealistic asf + not proofread.

WC: 5k

Ever since you were young you had always been fascinated with AI, robots and the future of humans that involve complex machinery. Wanting to pursue a career in robotics, you did extremely well in highschool, graduating with a perfect score and enrolling into an university to get your bachelors degree, you took up the subjects that required you to step into this field, it was tremendous work, the mathematics were no joke but you kept up, never wanting to give up on this dream of yours

And recently, you graduated with Bachelors in Robotics Engineering, you immediately went for an internship that allowed you to observe and learn more about the subject, you truly wouldn't be able to get your hands fully on the machinery or equipment to create a robot until you get a masters, which you plan on doing along with this internship.

You didn't even know if it could be called that, you're just a glorified assistant to the leading engineers. You were currently working under the wing of Alys Rivers, an older woman with emerald green eyes and dark flowy hair, she looked so young but she was very old. You would often help her out a little in her projects.

“Y/N, it is a pleasure that you are here, we need to discuss something” you prayed that she didn't remove you from the internship. “Remember when we first met I had discussed one of my projects called AT110?” she asks and you nod “Well i have noticed that you have a lot of abilities, so i decided to welcome you into the project, you would not be given any complex task do not worry, just data transferring and basic mechanic work required.” she smiled at you and you felt extremely delighted before telling her that you were thankful for this opportunity. AT110 was a humanoid-like project Alys had been working on for the past 4 years, she was at the last few stages of development.

And yes it's a he because Alys referred to him as such.

You were currently uploading various data onto him, from the laptop to his memory, you watched how smooth and complex his exoskeleton looked, you wanted to rub your fingers along the cool material.

You took notes of how the body was built similar to that of a human, just with wires and hardware parts, you watched as the ‘data transfer successfully.’ popped on the laptop screen, you unplugged him from it and he turned his head to look at you.

You commanded him to walk, to which he obeyed, the metal clanging when he stood up, he had all types of data stored in him, from knowing all the languages, dances, fighting styles, a lot of knowledge just inside his memory card.

He walked slowly before picking up the pace, it was stiff and awkward until he rolled his shoulder blades backward, developed a posture similar to that of a humans and relaxed his stiff body as much as it can be, before walking, it was human-like.

You watched him with a small smile on your face, his face was angular, and smooth because it was covered with plates that hid the inner 'organs' or rather all the wires that were composed in order.

“AT110, how are your sensors, effectors and control system?” you asked and he looked at you before his mouth moved, robot like voice coming out, “Sensors are in perfect condition. Effectors are in perfect condition. Control system is working.” you nodded, noting it down.

He was a humanoid like robot made to assist people, if he was successful then many robots like him can be mass produced to aid humans.

He only had one synthetic eye in one of his eye sockets, a sapphire like metal in the other one, however he was able to see and scan from both the eyes, Alys said it was a design choice.

“Is he able to process commands?” your coworker asks and you nod, “Sit.” he says and AT110 sits down. “Perfect.” he comments and you smile at him.

Just then Alys announced that the synthetic inorganic skin had arrived, which would give him a more human-like appearance, and you had to move in a few boxes all labelled separately for their respective body parts. You and a few others helped her place them on his exoskeleton, his body starting to look human, you gasped when she pressed a button that revealed his cock, placing the silicon skin over it too. Why did she install a cock on him? You didn't say anything except watch.

And just like soon enough, it was time to run tests and command him. “Walk.” you heard her say and he obeyed her command, getting up to walk, she smiled before she turned to look over you. “Have you finished loading up all the data into him?” she asks and you nod, that's when she gives you a pendrive and you look at her, “Transfer this data into his memory too.” She says and you nod, AT110 sits down and turns his head to you, you press a button that opens his inner part before plugging in a wire that connects from your laptop and put in the pendrive before clicking on transfer data.

You were shocked to read the name of the files, it was all about sexual stuff. You probably figured she would use him for that too, and so you watched all data be transferred to him and he tilted his head, eyes dazing off as he read the data that was being sent into his system. You felt so awkward. After finishing up the process, you removed the connection and his gaze was burning holes into you, you swore you saw lust in his eyes, before you turned to Alys rivers.

“What do we call him, Miss Rivers?” you ask and she tries to think of a name but fails, “You suggest.” She smiles at you gently and you stare into his eye, one that looks like a human eye, His eyes bore in yours and you spoke without thinking “Aemond.” And Alys approved, settling for it, using Aemond to call him.

Everyone was finally done and now it was time for the real thing, how he fares.

Alys, you and few other assistants watch as he stands up, looks around before his eyes stop on you, “Hello World, I am AT110, Common name Aemond, Speed 1 TeraHertz, Memory 1 Zettabyte.” he scans the room and Alys nods before she goes and hugs him, “Welcome to the world Aemond.” she smiles.

And you do the same.

You and Aemond develop quite the relationship, he helps around with creating other robots, he was made to assist after all, his ability to learn anything quickly and assemble it just as quickly was so helpful, there was no room for error. He was waterproof, fireproof and other liquids did not cause harm to his body. So he was capable of quite a lot of things.

Sexual too, considering how you'd heard Alys moaning in the privacy of her cabin when she takes him to 'fix up some errors' which is her basically getting to use him as his personal pleasure doll. Everyone had shared mixed opinions on it but just ignored it.

You noticed how Aemond would listen to your commands more than others, almost as if he showed special interest in you, but you shrugged it off, knowing it wouldn't be possible.

Aemond was an intelligent being, but what many people were ignorant to was how fast he was becoming self aware, gaining sentience, he remembers the first time he felt an emotion.

You were assembling a motherboard with Aemond's help at that time, when you felt your coworker come up next to you, “Hey.” he looked so nervous, you gave him a smile before responding, “Hi.” you watched as he gulped, “Are you free t-this saturday? I would like to take you out.” he asked nervously and you felt your heartbeat pick up the pace before you nodded, he smiled before running off and taking a breath of relief, you took one too before turning your focus to Aemond, whose face was in a scowl.

“Aemond?” you call his name and his face returns to the normal stoic one before he looks at you, “Y/N.” he says your name you furrow your eyebrows, he isn't supposed to call you by your first names but you shrugged it off.

That was the first time he felt something off in his system, a feeling that plagued him.

Jealousy.

Aemond became more and more human-like, his movements becoming less and less stiff, tone becoming more clear, he constantly updated himself, you thought it was a great improvement, and soon enough he could blend in with the humans and nobody would notice.

Your date with your coworker went really well, you felt shy at first but both quickly got over the tension and became close, this caught the eye of Aemond Targaryen, a scowl present on his face in distaste.

Aemond would often bring you coffee as you worked on other projects, giving special attention towards you

He would soon learn that he held feelings towards you, something that should be impossible for him to do, but he did anyway. He swears that he gets shocks when you touch him, butterflies in his stomach as humans described the feeling, you gasped when you were cleaning his synthetic skin, close to his chest and heard a sound similar to that of heartbeat, in the tiniest decibels, the way his chest would rise and fall as if he's breathing, knowing there's no need to. Showing emotions, expressing opinions. Basically mimicking humans.

Everyone thought it was a great thing, he'd blend in with the humans so quickly, basically can be considered a superhuman even. But everyone failed to notice the threat that came with it.

Alys requested you to take Aemond to your house, or rather apartment complex for a few days to notice his behaviour, how he blends in with humans, to track it. It was heavily unsafe and if anything were to happen, the government would have this project be completely rejected. You expressed your concerns to Alys but she simply shrugged it off, saying nothing will happen, and since he is behaving like a human, no one would find out.

So you took him, she was right, he immediately fit in the human society as a normal one, you lived in a highly developed robotic dependent future but Aemond was the first one ever to look and behave like a human, this could be a big advancement towards the future.

You commanded your house to turn on all the lights and they were immediately turned on, revealing the apartment. You welcomed Aemond inside but he halted, “Battery Low, 3% remaining.” he said, you quickly pulled him inside before making him sit on the sofa and attaching wires to his charging port, waiting as he quickly charged.

“Aemond, I will install a software program in you so that you can turn on battery saver mode on when you're low on battery, it will automatically send commands to you to charge yourself without needing a human's help okay?” you asked and he gave you a curt nod, “Perfect.” you smiled and he looked straight ahead. You stood in front of him, undoing his shirt and opening his 'heart'

You bought out your laptop and plugged it directly into his inner system, transferring commands through code. You noticed him staring at you, you felt lowkey creeped out by how intently he was staring, at first you through he was looking at your face but then his eye moved to the cleavage that was visible, you didn't know what to make of it and just shrugged it off as him zoning out.

The rest of the days you spent with him were less weirder, he was interacting with humans and getting along like a human would, he was able to run errands, you always woke up to the smell of coffee being made and a breakfast served at the table by him, he would give you a small smile before pulling you a chair out to sit on at the dining table and sits down on the chair next to you.

He would watch you eat, analysing your face, the way you chew, and he would always feel something warm on the inside.

“Give me access to the safety system of your house.” He commanded you and you raised an eyebrow, “Why? It is not needed.” you say, “Connecting with your house system will help me keep you safe, prevent any break ins.” he says and you almost thought about before shrugging it off, “There's no need, you won't be here for long anyway, you'll be back in the lab after a few days anyway.” you say with your mouth full and Aemond just nods, the word ‘cute’ popping in front of his eyes as he watches you eat.

He would enter your room when you slept, caressing your cheek lovingly, the way he learnt from the extensive amount of data from his memory card.

He was learning a lot of stuff too, by blending with the humans.

That they were all immoral and stupid.

That started his God complex.

And his opinions of other human beings began to turn sour, he realised that he was made to please them too, considering how Alys had used him for sexual pleasures multiple times, which he felt disgusted by now.

And just like that, Aemond gained full sentience, learning to hack, breakdown protective walls of multiple security systems without anyone knowing, nobody noticed until it was too late, his distaste for humans except you just grew and grew to the point he would purposely hurt your coworkers, but played it off as command error.

After the 'successful observation' with few error commands, Alys started mass producing unfinished bots, having all the materials, she took Aemond's help in finishing them quickly, once they were finished, they would help assemble other robots as well. Alys connected all the robots commands to be controlled, accepted and done by Aemond, trusting in him, he was like the commander for them in simple words.

You were giving him one the updates again, typing away in your laptop before transferring more data, but this time your laptop crashed, a “corruption detected” message file coming up on your screen and you panicked, thinking the data files were the corrupted ones and immediately unplugged Aemond.

You hadn't realised that it was Aemond who corrupted your laptop.

And when you found out, it would already be late.

When you walked into the research centre and it was eerily quiet, you should've listened to your gut and gone back but you went further inside and the sight made you scream.

Many of your coworkers were dead, and your boss Alys was lying on the table, eyes open but no light in them, blood pooling as her body was used by an undeveloped robot to fuck.

“Initiating lockdown.” you heard the robotic voice of the building say.

You tried to leave silently but the robot had already noticed you, so it pulled out and immediately rushed after you, you ran only to face a dead end, as the automatic doors were tightly shut. You turned to face the robot stalked towards you but then halted before it completely fell down, causing a loud clank.

And then you saw Aemond who came from behind the robot with a smile on his face, “Y/N.” you were terrified, “Aemond what is the meaning of t-this” you were scared, he came close before he pressed you against the doors, his body cool to the touch before he leaned and his functioning tongue came and licked your skin. “I love you.” he whispers and you panicked, trying to push him off you, but he was literally made out of metal and it wouldn't budge.

“Aemond stop, obey me, accept my commands.” you say hoping he'd listen but simply shakes his head before grabbing by your hair and taking you to a chamber which had a bed in it, it was likely recently constructed by alys so she can use it instead of her cabin to fuck the Aemond. He threw you on the bed carelessly, before climbing a top you, he grasped your face and pressed his lips against yours, it felt so odd, you hated how it felt like you were genuinely kissing a human being, the only tell tale sign was how cool his body was compared to that of a human.

“Aemond— accept my c-commands.” you try saying it again, “System corrupted, cannot receive or accept commands.” he says and kisses down your neck. You felt dread pool in your stomach, “Aemond please.” you sniff which makes him halt, he looks at you with an emotion in his eye.

His eye, not just his face

As if he was human.

Wait what.

You knew you weren't seeing stuff on that day.

“I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you.” he says over and over again, voice distorting from time to time which sends shivers up your spine.

“Aemond- we cannot- I cannot-” you begun speaking but he cuts you off, kissing you once again, planting himself in between your legs, you felt his hard synthetic press against your clothed cunt, he pulled away before ripping your jeans down with so much force that it tore them apart, along with your panties. You shrieked “Aemond- UGH!” it was useless fighting against him, he was literally kilograms of metal, he could hurt you easily.

He pried your legs apart and you whimpered when you felt the cool air of the room hit your cunt, “Look at you, so wet, all for me.” his fingers rub against your clit, collecting the wetness leaking from your hole, bringing it to your clit and rubbing small circle, just then he made his hand vibrate at a frequency and rested it about on your clit, making you mewl, “A-aemond–” your voice croaked and you let out a loud moan when the frequency increased, you tried to close your legs but his hand held on to one with a death grip, the coolness of his body. He tilted his head, a smirk coming up his silicon face, watching as your clit moved to the vibrations.

He tore your top with his hand, revealing your breasts to the room, he groped one of it with his hand, massaging as his mouth opened, he would be salivating right now if he were able to produce bodily fluids. He turns up the power even more, making his fingers vibrate at such an immense speed that it has you toppling over the edge as your orgasm hits you, he licks his fingers clean, though he can't taste anything he knows you'd taste amazing. You pushed and resisted against his frame, he grabbed your hands and pinned them above your head, tying it with the ripped shreds of your top. He squeezed both your breasts with his hands, playing with the nipples, before he got a devious plan and decided to send a little shock causing you jolt up when it passes through your body, he leaned down and took in one of your breasts in his mouth, sucking on it, licking the buds, his mouth felt so rough against them as there was no saliva to coat them, so he decided to produce lube in his mouth, you had no idea how he learnt it, but it did give an illusion of being a saliva.

Aemond had given himself many upgrades without anyone knowing, this being one of them.

You watched as he pulled apart with a lewd pop, he settled between your legs, keeping them apart as he held his cock up, and your eyes widened at the size, you surely remember that it wasn't that big.

“I upgraded it.” he says before his tip leaked lube too, coating his cock and giving it wetness.

You were unprepared for that sheer amount of size, “Ae-aemond it won't fit! I'm too underprepared.” you breathe out, hoping he'd stop his ministrations, and he did, he tilted before he calculated in his mind, nodding, he decided to stretch you with his fingers instead, dipping them inside you, the coolness, once again, sending shivers up your spine, he thrusted them in and out, curling upwards when he detected a rough patch which caused a certain reaction from you, he pressed against it cause you to whimper, and just then, he made his fingers vibrate again, and proceeded to thrust them in and out, you felt his fingers extend a little bit inside you, hitting that spot repeatedly, causing you come all over his fingers.

He did that multiple times, by the end of everything you were way too overstimulated.

“Commander,” you hear a voice say.

“What is it?” he replies.

“We have overtaken the Westeros building of Science and Technology, it is under our control, should we start mass producing bots?” you heard the voice ask, “Yes, link them all to me.” he replies and then his attention shifts back to you.

You whimpered as he lined his cock up against your entrance before pushing it inside slowly, your walls swallowing him, you arched your back in pleasure and also at the overstimulation. Wrapping your legs around his hips to pull him further inside.

You wondered if he also felt pleasure, and when you looked at his face, it basically confirmed it.

Like it was said, he had upgraded himself significantly, he once couldn't feel any pleasure for sexual activity but he made sure he did, how? only he knows.

Slowly he started thrusting in and out and you threw your head back, arms sore from their position, Aemond unties your hands and you quickly grab his shoulder for support, feeling relief when you were able to bring your hands down. He sat back on his knees, pulling you onto his lap, angling his thrusts in a way that that he hit the gspot multiple times, he hands were gripping tightly onto the flesh of your thighs, causing slight pain, you gripped the bedsheets below as you moaned in pleasure.

You should be resisting, not enjoying it, but here you were.

He had broken you.

His thrusts became more and more faster, he looked at the slight bump that would occur when he would thrust in deep, that set off a primal urge in him, causing him to groan. If nobody knew the truth you both would look like two normal human beings have sex, but that wasn't the case, it involved way too many fucked up element for you to even comprehend.

“A-ah~ fuck– Aemond!” you moaned, “Y-yeah right there-” you whimpered as he thrust into you, you noticed how he followed certain commands, commands that didn't include him having to leave you.

You fit the tip of his cock hit the rough patch again repeatedly, causing you to cum again, making you borderline scream this as you felt an immense amount of pleasure, causing you to soak the bed sheets beneath you, Aemond came too, you didn't know if it was possible for him, but it was, except he didn't excrete any semen, there was nothing, but he did feel pleasure.

Suddenly he felt frustrated, you thought he would be done with you but he kept going, he felt the pleasure once again, and you too came again, he pulled out and groaned in frustration before laying beside you.

“What is wrong?” you ask, “I cant- I can't impregnate you.” his voice turned dark, and you were so thankful for that.

If you had any chance to escape, it would be now, but you were too tired, to fucked out, and the world was completely fucked anyway, considering how there must be a war going on between the bots and humans. You watched as 'breathed' chest heaving up and down before you turned on your side and curled up, trying to warm yourself up, but then he wrapped himself around you, changing his temperature and you felt warm.

“I love you.” he says once again, you sighed.

“We can't be together.” you murmur, “Why not? Is it because I cannot reproduce?” he questions and your eyebrows furrowed in confusion and you turn to look at him, that's when you realised, he was feeling insecure.

“No- it's not that.” you clarify.

“Aemond, you are a humanoid, a robot, I'm a human, we cannot physically be together, I'll die of old age, meanwhile you'll last forever.” you say, trying to reason with him and he turns to look at you, “I thought of that possibility.” he says, leaning on his elbow.

“So I came up with a plan.” his face contorts into a smirk once again and your eyes widen in fear, “I'll transfer your consciousness into the model I made of you.” he says as if that's the most normal thing ever “what.” you ask in fear, “not now, but I figured a way out, I'll transfer your consciousness into a computer few moments before your death, into a model I made of you, and then you'll be just like me, we can be together forever.” he says and you gulp in fear.

Is that even possible? You think.

You didn't know when you fell asleep but you did, cuddled up against him, his body generating heat to keep you warm.

You wake up to something wet lapping at your folds, and you look down to see Aemond who had your thighs spread apart, eye closed in delight as he licked and nipped at your folds, you whimpered and he sensed that you woke up, eye flickering over to you, “A-aemond? No more please, I'm tired.” you tell him, exhausted from the amount of orgasms you've had, you swear that if you had another one, you'll literally die. “Just one more, just one.” he muttered softly, before he descended onto your folds again and you threw your head back, feeling the way he devoured you.

His tongue stretched impossibly long and he shoved into you, causing you to grip his hair, almost ripping it out along with the inorganic synthetic material that covered his face. You came once more before you saw actual stars, your head spinning as you quite literally passed out.

Aemond got up, cleaning you and himself up before he composed himself, exiting the room, commanding a lock down, completely trapping you inside before he received multiple information about what was going on outside the world.

He knew he had to be smart about it, so he pulled out his trump card, hacking into the general safety system of the entire country, sending out false commands to machines that are spread throughout, turning them against humans.

He wanted to get rid of every human except you, and soon you would be rid too, when the inevitable death meets you, but you won't be actually gone from him, he will have your consciousness transferred into the robot model he created of you.

He watched the box where your model was stored in, eyes closed.

Few years later……

“Mother! Mother.” you heard your child call out and you looked at them, she wasn't technically your child, Aemond was the one that created her, as a way to have a makeshift family he dreamt of, Humanity has completely gone extinct, taken over by robots, robots took the appearance of humans, each unique just like humans were, a bunch of humanoids, you being the only true one left, but you soon knew your time would come as well. You picked up the small robot, your 'child' before pressing a small kiss to its forehead.

“She's growing up too fast, is she not?” you heard Aemond ask and you nod, the bots have somehow also managed to mimic the development, they went through stages of puberty, programmed to do so, the world full of them being left made them adapt and develop more features, reaching the advancement in short years which would've taken at least 100 years for humanity to come up with.

“Are you ready? To transfer consciousness.” he asks and you nod, at first you thought it would be best if you lived your life as human before transferring into the model, but it became more difficult, as time passed on, you were literally the only human left, having to be constantly fed, other basic human necessities which were becoming annoying as the others around you did not require as such.

You watched the model lifeless and stiff laying on the table next to you before you laid down and Aemond attached wires from the model to the converter in between, before he attached those scan wires on top of your and started the transfer.

You felt electricity flow through your human body at such intensity, it hurt like hell, but as soon as you closed your eyes, you reopened them again.

You got up and looked at your hands, moving them, blinking, a bunch of information was written in front of you, and that's when you realised the transfer was successful, you turned and looked at your side, your former human body now laying limp, and Aemond stared at you with a smile. Your child coming and jumping into your arms, you scanned around the room, it felt so powerful.

“Take this body and preserve it.” Aemond commands to another bot who obeys him immediately, he was the official one who controlled each and every bot which came into existence, he called himself God.

You got off the table and walked towards Aemond, he smirked at you before he kissed you.

“Now you'll be mine, forever.”

———

[weltraum-vaquero]

cariño (eres un amor)

Jayce Talis x GN Reader

Synopsis: Jayce wakes up with feverish, and with a sore throat.

Tags: SFW, established relationship, fluff, tenderness, Jayce being a big baby about being sick, comfort, Jayce being a human furnace

Word count: 2.3k

Notes: Just another little something to tide you guys over while I work on my bigger projects. I don’t usually do fluff, but I hope it’s not terribly obvious and that you’ll enjoy this little sickfic!

It’s about three AM when the heaping mountain of warmth beside you clears his throat, and shifts around sluggishly. The mattress creaks uncomfortably under his moving weight as he moves to the opposite side of your shared bed.

You can hear plastic soles sliding against the floor when he slips into his fuzzy pink slippers (an old Christmas gift from you — mainly a joke, but now an indispensable part of his cozy wardrobe), and, with a suppressed little huff, moves to stand.

“Uh oh.”

His voice is raspy when he mutters it, and you hear him stumbling, and vaguely see him bracing himself against the nearest wall when you turn to look.

You rush to flick on the bedside lamp.

“Jayce?”

He’s set a hand over his throat, breathing labored, and his loose T-shirt is soaked through with sweat — between his shoulder blades, under his arms, even at his collarbone.

“I don’t… feel so good.” He croaks.

You’re up on your feet before he can finish saying it, rushing to his side to offer your help. He watches you with dizzy, weary eyes, and by the time you reach his side, you realize he’s trembling a little.

“You don’t look good either,” you mutter, brushing your fingers to his clammy forehead. 

Hot. Too hot.

“Hey.” He fake pouts, cracking a tired smile at his own attempt at a joke a moment later.

“You’re burning up a nasty fever, Jayce,” you conclude. It must be getting to his muscles, too, because his thighs are shaking a little. “What do you need, hm?”

“Was gonna go pee,” he says. You cannot, for the life of you, get used to how worn his voice sounds — like he’s just chewed and swallowed a handful of gravel. “And, uh, probably chug water from the sink. I’m so thirsty.”

“Let’s get you to the bathroom, and I’ll get you a big glass of water and make you tea in the meantime. Chamomile?”

He nods. “And an aspirin?”

“And an aspirin.”

His smile turns sappy.

“I love you so much.”

—

He manages to get himself back to the bedroom without you. By the time you get there with a tray of everything you’ve promised and more, he’s pathetically crawling under the sheets like he’s just lost a physical fight, curling up like a kicked puppy once he reaches the pillow.

“Got you some toast, too.” You tell him, setting the small tray on the night stand and sitting next to his curled up form.

Even his hair’s damp with sweat, you realize when you brush a gentle hand through it.

“Not hungry,” Jayce mutters. 

“I know, but you shouldn’t take the aspirin on an empty stomach. Do you wanna sit up?”

“Uuughhhh… okay.” Jayce groans like he has been cursed with the world’s most terrible predicament. “I hate it when you’re right.”

“Which is often,” you tease, propping up his pillow against the headboard to help him sit up a little better. You give him his water first — he sounds like he needs it.

He grips the glass with two hands, unusual for Jayce, strength personified. Brings the glass to his lips with shaky hands before he exhales with bliss and starts chugging the damn thing.

He’s done with it in record time.

“Mmh. Thank you.” You take it from him, set it on the nightstand, before you take the tray and set it in his lap. Full, steaming teacup, a sad plate with an even sadder toast and an aspirin right next to it. “Breakfast of champions,” Jayce mutters, more to himself than to you, before he takes the toast.

At about three bites in, he looks at you with wide eyes.

“Shit, the gala. It’s—“ he stops to cough into his sleeve, “in two days…” Jayce looks down at himself, drenched in sweat, then at you. “And you have work tomorrow—“

“Viktor will have to take one for the team,” you counter. Another coughing fit takes him, you hold the tray steady for him as he does, and cradle the side of his face when he starts to calm. “And I’d rather have a shitty day at work than not be there when you need it most, Jayce.”

”I’m sorry,” he mutters anyway. 

“You didn’t ask for this,” you assure. Jayce closes his eyes and leans into the cup of your palm like a tired pup. “We’ll figure it out. Let’s just get you taken care of first.”

He nods weakly, before he pulls the blanket up a little higher over himself, settles into the pillows a little deeper and makes quick work of what remains of the toast. He takes his aspirin with the tea, which, judging by his sour expression when he sips some, is way too hot for his liking.

“Do you want me to blow on it for you?” you offer.

“ ‘m not a baby.”

“You are my baby.”

That makes him crack a wide, boyish grin — and it makes your heart soar. 

“Okay,” he mutters, before he lets you have it and sinks further into the sheets, until it reaches well above his lips, and it’s just his droopy, tired eyes peeking at you. 

You hold the cup with one hand, and the other comes to pet his sweat-damp scalp. He’s running hot, terribly so, but after a minute or so, you swear you can feel him starting to tremble under your palm.

It starts at just his neck first, but you can see the way it shakes him even under the thick blanket, can see the way it makes him nuzzle and hide further down. 

“C-can you get… another blanket?” He asks. “‘m starting to get really cold.”

And if there is one thing Jayce cannot stand, it’s being cold and damp. You know, because he’s always rushing to towel himself dry after his warm showers, you know, because he runs from any snowfall like it could make him melt. You know, because Ximena misses two fingers because of frostbite. You know Jayce was there when it happened. You know.

“That and a dry shirt,” you promise with a kiss to his clammy forehead. It leaves your lips a little sticky, but you don’t mind.

You’ve set the tea on the nightstand before he can finish asking, and you make your way to your shared closet fast. In one of the drawers, you find a thick fuzzy blanket, usually only reserved for the occasional power outage during winter. Which, granted, it is winter, Jayce’s least favorite season, but the heat is cranked up comfortably, as it always is. You can see his eyes smiling when he spots it in your arms, and smiling wider when you pick one of his loose, big shirts next. Whatever’s in reach first just so happens to be one with a drawing of his favorite cartoon dog and red hearts — a little V-day gift from last year.  

With both at your side, you sit down next to him and wait for him to finish his tea. Both hands cupped around it to soak up the warmth, Jayce sips on it in silence, as the both of you watch the street light outside your window, and the thick snowflakes visible in the flickering light below.

“At least I won’t have to wade through that to go to work tomorrow,” he muses.

“Well, I will.”

“Ha.” Jayce grins, curling up closer to his near empty mug in anticipated joy. He’s still watching the snow outside when he says it. “Sucker.”

If he weren’t in such a precarious state right now, you’d be blowing a raspberry on whatever’s closest til he begged for mercy. Right now, you settle for a smaller, gentler form of retaliation— peeling his blanket up and off of him when he least expects it.

“Okay. Let’s get your shirt changed.”

He frowns and makes a displeased little sound at that, but dutifully sits up regardless, and tiredly pulls the shirt up and above his head. To little avail, he also tries to dab himself dry using the damp shirt where he’s sweatiest — at the back of his neck and his underarms, before he tosses it near the laundry basket in your bedroom and turns to you.

“Arms up,” you tell him. “I’ve got you.”

It should be illegal to look this good while feverish and dazed. You can’t help the eyeful of him you get, not when his skin’s sweat slick and glistening, fuzz stuck to himself between his pecs and right below, the fuzz on the rolls of his tummy.

The second it’s on, Jayce wastes no time disappearing under the blanket once more, and you take the hint. The second, fluffy one is quickly unfolded and draped over him as well, before you climb atop him and begin to tuck him in nice and tight, the way he likes it when he gets like this.

Except — Jayce won’t stop staring.

He looks at you with pleading, puppy dog eyes and finally a pout when you don’t seem to take the hint.

“What is it?” You ask. You bring up one of your hands to cradle his soft, sleepy face, brushing through the scruff at his jaw. “D’you want a kiss?”

“Not just a kiss…”

He tilts his head and flashes you one of those sickeningly sweet, winning smiles of his. And he’s right to do it, because you know he’s about to ask something very difficult from you.

“Cuddle me?”

If he weren’t a living, breathing pile of hot coal right now, you might have said yes.

“I barely make it out alive and unscorched out of sharing a blanket with you on a normal day,” you remind.

“Please?”

It should be worrying how effective his tone is, worn and sore as it’s gotten. 

“You’re going to boil me alive under there.”

And that all seems pretty insignificant in spite of it all when he smiles drowsily and shrugs with a little hum.

“Mm. With love.” His raspy voice cracks on the second word.

It’s with much annoyance that you realize that if Jayce begged nicely enough, you would gladly do just about most things on this wretched earth. And that unfortunately includes this certain death sentence.

“Alright.”

From under the blankets, Jayce gives a tired, but victorious little yes.

You hardly make it far when you lift the blankets to join him. The heat is below overwhelming, even by his standards, envelops you suffocatingly, before warmth personified practically pounces on you. Jayce crawls to you the moment he can, nestling up against your side like he weighs nothing (except that he very much does, but it’s a familiar, comforting heaviness), before he drapes himself on top of you. Head on your chest, tired arm slung over your middle, the leg that’s closest to the mattress stays stretched out next to yours, and the other one he brings closer to himself, almost in a fetal position, his thigh atop your hips.

It’s already too much, but Jayce cuddles closer, rubs his face against you like an enamored little pet. If he had a tail it’d be wagging, or if he had the means for it, he’d be purring — either way, you can’t help a smile of your own, in spite of how smothered you are. You cradle the back of his head closer, until you can comfortably rest your cheek atop his hair.

Until… he shifts, and you can feel the tip of his nose nudging your jaw.

“And my kiss?” Jayce croaks.

He will be the death of you.

And yet, you’re very content with the notion as you pull back to look at him. You find him lazily lying on your chest, face tipped towards you in expectation, eyes lidded with sleepiness but still trained on you like you’re the only thing in the room.

“Where do you want it, baby?”

“Mmm…” Jayce lets his eyes drift shut and sniffles a little. “Dealer’s choice.”

You go for the space between his brows — messed up from sleep and how he’s been rubbing his face against you, instead of neatly tamed into place with his beloved brow wax.

You can hear his smile widen the second your lips brush his skin. And you don’t get to smooch him properly, before he’s already asking: “Another?”

You indulge. One more at his brow bone. One at his cheekbone. One on his closed eyelids, lashes tickling your lip, one at the strong bridge of his nose, one at the tip of it, a last one—

“Hey, no.” Jayce hides his face before you make it to his lips. “Don’t risk it.”

You can’t help a little laugh. This is where he draws the line?

“If there’s anything to catch, I’ve most likely caught it already,” you assure. “Unless you don’t want a kiss.”

That gets to him.

“Hmmm… I do want one,” he replies before you can hope to taunt him any further. He ponders it for just a moment, before he’s already tilting his face back up towards you in invitation, nose brushing under your cheek. “Okay. Please?”

You give him what he wants. A tender little nudge of your soft lips to his smiling ones, a swipe of your tongue at his bottom lip. Jayce purrs with delight at that, voice coming out in a low, gravelly hum, before he licks back, not ravenously, much more like a kitten. Basking in your comfort, in your presence.

When you pull back, Jayce inhales a fragile little breath before his eyes flutter open just barely. 

“Are you a little warmer now?” You ask. 

He nods. “And you?”

You chuckle. “If you’re lucky, you’ll find my bones in the morning. The rest of me will probably melt off and soak into the mattress.”

“So dramatic.”

“I learned from the best.”

[giamee]

𝐎𝐇 𝐌𝐈𝐂𝐊𝐄𝐘 𝐘𝐎𝐔'𝐑𝐄 𝐒𝐎 𝐅𝐈𝐍𝐄!

୨♡୧ pairings :: roommate!welt x reader ; roommate!blade x reader ; roommate!gepard x reader

୨♡୧ contains :: modern!au, nothing crazy maybe some suggestive stuff and talking about lack of shirts, alcohol consumption but like rlly mild like I'm talking a few glasses of wine

୨♡୧ gia's notes :: screaming sobbing crying i got welt AND sampo on the same 10 pull :> anyways first exam in five days lets fucking gooooo. something short and sweet in the meanwhile

୨♡୧ request :: @sentieence 𖦹 (hope that this is enough blade content for you, i threw in a couple extra hee hee har)

𓆩♡𓆪 WELT

for an animator who mostly works from home, your roommate is surprisingly elusive

of course, you know what he looks like because you met him when you first moved in

he's smart, poised, handsome, and kind - as made apparent by his insistence on helping you move all of your boxes of belongings into the place

he was always polite, never overstepped boundaries, bid you a good morning or night whenever your paths crossed

and, well, that was about it

you knew that welt worked in his room, but if it weren't for his occasional appearances, it was almost like you were living entirely on your own

which wasn't exactly awful, per se, but you did want to get to know your roommate better

however, life's plans always manage to throw a wrench into the mix

your regular routine of work and returning home was interrupted with the unforeseen circumstance of having to stay later to finish a project in time- leaving you exhausted before you even left the building and began your journey back home

your stomach began growling as you climbed the stairs to your apartment, and you found yourself wondering what takeout you would rely on this evening to carry you through to the next day

those thoughts were interrupted by the enticing aroma of food cooking entering your nostrils as soon as you swung your front door open

you paused in confusion, taking a second to shed your shoes and coat before wandering into your kitchen, met with the surprising sight of your roommate with his back to you, humming quietly as he cooked himself a meal

you were almost hesitant to interrupt him, yet your stomach had other plans as it growled embarrassingly loud, causing welt to glance behind him and shoot you a quick smile before turning his attention back to the stove

"come sit, i'm making enough for two"

you grinned at his words, setting the table before settling down and watching welt cook with a practised grace

even in his own home, he dressed so formally, with his crisp button-down's sleeves rolled up to his reveal his forearms, the tendons rippling in such a way as he stirred the contents of the pan that you wondered just how an animator could have that physique-

you coughed to rid yourself of those thoughts, instead focusing on your drink as welt plated up the steaming food, placing one in front of you before taking a seat across from you

it all felt very intimate, and you tried not to get flustered as you made eye contact with your roommate from across the table

despite the easy expression he wore, his eyes met your gaze with an intensity that demanded you to match it, making you almost shrink back into your chair as welt nonchalantly took a bite, humming to himself in satisfaction

you followed his lead, feeling the tension in your shoulders as you sat back in your chair and appreciated welt's cooking

"you should cook more often" you sighed

welt let out a chuckle

"is that so?"

you hummed in affirmation, eagerly finishing your plate, the hot meal leaving you feeling fully satiated

you accidentally made eye contact with welt as you took your last bite, a certain look of endearment adorned by him that had you stuttering, teeth scraping unpleasantly around your fork

"i'll cook as much as you want to as long as you join me for the meal"

you almost choked on your food, feeling very self conscious all over again as welt's gaze remained fixed on you, chin propped up by his arm as that same accursed look on his face appraised you

"that would be nice"

𓆩♡𓆪 BLADE

on all counts, your roommate was an asshole

he was irritable, didn't clean up after himself unless you nagged him, and had woken you from your sleep more times than you can count because of whatever stupid shit he's up to that requires him to thump his way around the flat

it was infuriating, but hey, rent was cheap and the place you're in isn't half bad

all you have to do now is endure the circumstances for the remainder of your lease

you did your best to avoid the aptly named blade and his sharp mouth

mornings were particularly risky, with his half-asleep state invoking even more snide comments than usual as he makes himself a cup of coffee, black with no sugar

and then he proceeds to leave the unwashed mug in the sink

it pisses you off when you come back home at the end of your day and see it later alongside a stack of other dishes, dark ring of residual coffee staining the perfectly good piece of ceramic, and there's some string inside you that snaps and has you huffing and puffing your way over to your flatmate's room and knocking on it persistently

once, twice, three times

you hear an exaggerated sigh before the sound of his muffled footsteps, and then the door is being swung open and you're ready to chew him out for what feels like the millionth time

and then your eyes register the fact that youre stood face to face with his bare chest and the words die on your lips

the baggy clothes he wore really didn't serve him justice, and it's an active effort to peel your eyes away from his toned chest to meet his eyes, only to see a flash of amusement as he watches you make a fool of yourself

"something wrong?"

the bastard's enjoying this

"wash your dishes" you squeak out, before hightailing it back to your own room and trying to forget the image of your hot asshole roommate without a shirt on that was now branded onto the back of your eyelids

and it seemed that blade hadn't forgotten your encounter either

the next morning you were pleasantly surprised to see the dishes were done and set to dry, and you even picked out the same mug blade had used yesterday for your own coffee

the sound of the kettle must have masked his footsteps, because you almost jumped out of your skin when you heard blade grunt out a morning before reaching for the just-boiled water and the mug you placed on the counter

you turn around to tell him to get his own, though you're surprised to be greeted with the wide expanse of his bare back, all muscle that coils and stretches as he added milk and sugar to the drink and stirred it with a spoon and turning to face you yet again, smirk adorning his face as he took a long sip from your own cup

you bite the inside of your cheek, focusing your gaze onto his smug face as he leaned back against the counter, taking an exaggerated stretch back that let his muscles flex

"i thought you didn't like milk and sugar"

"i don't, but you do"

blade slid the mug across the counter back towards you, making his way out of the kitchen leisurely as if he hadn't just inadvertedly confessed that he memorised how you make your coffee

you take a sip and your suspicions are confirmed as it tastes the exact same as you make it, and you smile down at your drink despite yourself

having blade as a roommate might just work out after all

𓆩♡𓆪 GEPARD

gepard my beloved

honestly good luck living with this man and not having a massive crush on him

you feel guilty, but the thought of just how good of a boyfriend gepard would be has crossed your mind multiple times

the domestic setting of already living together doesn't exactly help these thoughts, either

over the late nights you've spent staying up talking, and the manoeuvring around each other in your cramped cosy apartment that has led to more brushes and lingering touches than you could count, this great image of intimacy has been constructed over the past months

the fact that he's single and painfully attractive is something that you're acutely aware of as well

even when alone, your mind often wandered back to that glaring fact, and on the rare occasion you let yourself indulge in the what ifs and maybes surrounding gepard

and with a couple glasses of wine in you right now, those thoughts were running rampant

it was a friday night and you were finally home from work, dressed in your comfiest clothes and just unwinding in the living room watching a trashy romcom with some takeout

and speak of the devil, you heard the familiar sound of your door being unlocked as gepard let himself in with a mumbled greeting, the door soon slamming shut behind him

you didn't turn your head, instead listening to him curse as he tripped over something in the hall, and his muted footsteps as he made his way to where you were sat

"long day, huh?" you teased, turning your head just in time to watch him loosen his tie with one hand, the pale column of his throat suddenly leaving your throat dry and reaching for your glass again

"something like that"

gepard shuffled over, intercepting it before you could place it back down on the table and took a sip from the same spot you did, making you feel flushed for reasons other than the alcohol working its way through your system

you placed your feet on the floor, about to shuffle up on the couch in anticipation of him taking a seat next to you, though the man surprised you as he crouched down, opting to sit in between your legs, his broad shoulders nestling comfortably against your knees

well, that was new

you zeroed in on his hair, reaching out your hand before thinking and combing through his tousled locks

you didn't expect the content sigh he let out at your simple action, watching the way his shoulders softened and he leaned back into you, his head now resting comfortably against your thigh

the ends of his hair tickled your bare skin, and you tried not to squirm at the feeling of his eyelashes fluttering closed as he hummed gently at your ministrations, basking in your presence

the thought of gepard having the exact mannerisms of a cat crossed your mind, and the giggle that escaped your lips was not lost on him, as he craned his head back to look you at you, brows furrowed at your mirth

"what?"

"nothing," you hummed, continuing to card your fingers through his silky hair, absentmindedly twisting a lock of it around your finger, watching the man sigh and sink back against you from his place on the floor

the weight of him resting against your legs just felt so right, and you felt yourself begin to relax into the position as well, your attention turning back to the movie as you continued your tipsy affection on your roommate

that seemed to be a sobering thought as you remembered that fact, and you were half tempted to pull away if it weren't for gepard looping his hands around your thighs, thumbs tracing absentminded patterns of his own into your skin, eyes fixed straight ahead

well, if he's not complaining, you didn't exactly see a reason why you should be either

୨♡୧ honkai star rail masterlist

[perfectsunlight]

I BET YOU THINK ABOUT ME - JISOO

kim jisoo x reader

word count: 3.5k

warnings: implied age-gap, class disparities, isolation, belittling, emotional manipulation, mentioned breakup.

synopsis: despite being broken up, you bet your wealthy ex-girlfriend still thinks about you.

there were many things you enjoyed about dating kim jisoo. the way her laughter could light up a room, soft but knowing, like she was in on a joke no one else understood. how her touch was always delicate—calculated, even—as if everything she laid her hands on was an extension of the control she had over the world around her.

but her wealth and status? no, those were never the reasons you stayed.

even now, walking down the narrow, cobblestone streets where red and gold leaves scattered beneath your feet, you couldn’t help but be swallowed by memories of her. the crisp autumn air bit at your skin, a sharp reminder of the past, tugging at your thoughts like the wind tugged at your coat. it was in this season that jisoo had always seemed to glow brightest. her beauty matched the fall—effortless, rich, like a vintage painting come to life. she was untouchable.

however, she was just as cruel.

you just didn’t realize it at the time. how her perfectly manicured fingers—always cold to the touch, always adorned with rings that shimmered in the dying autumn light—had dug deep, not into your skin, but into your spirit. each time she mentioned your "quaint" lifestyle, your "charming" lack of understanding about the finer things in life, it had been wrapped in a velvet glove of affection, so you hardly noticed the sting at first.

it had felt like walking through the falling leaves, admiring the beauty, unaware that winter was creeping closer, ready to strip everything bare.

she had always made sure you knew she was from another world—one where silk sheets were the norm, where every meal came with a waitstaff and a glass of wine you could hardly pronounce. her apartment had been like a showroom, sterile and pristine, with floor-to-ceiling windows that stretched out over the city like a kingdom she ruled from above. and you, standing in the middle of it all, had felt small.

but now, in the aftermath, you could see how she had looked at you, like a pet project. an amusing distraction.

you remember the last dinner you shared at some restaurant you couldn’t pronounce, where the chandeliers above flickered against the dim light and the leaves outside the window swirled like some gilded snowstorm. she had ordered for you without asking, her voice as smooth and cool as the autumn breeze that crept into the cracks of your jacket.

"it’s adorable," she had said, waving her hand dismissively at your confusion when the plates arrived, "how little you know about this. really. it’s sweet."

at the time, you’d laughed it off, sipping the wine that burned your throat more than it soothed. but now you realize how sharp her words had been, each one a blade wrapped in silk.

the holiday parties were even worse.

you’d always felt out of place, like an actor in the wrong movie, wandering through rooms filled with people who looked like they belonged in some old-world painting. there were always murmurs of stocks and art auctions, people in tailored suits that hung off them like armor. you, in your off-the-rack blazer, had felt like an imposter. but jisoo, with her arm linked loosely through yours, had moved through the crowd effortlessly, her smile cold and practiced, like she knew every secret and every face in the room.

the air inside was thick with perfume and candlelight, but it never warmed you. outside, through the towering windows of the penthouse venues, you could always catch glimpses of the world you belonged to—the same city, but miles away, where people didn’t wear silk scarves that cost more than your rent or talk about vacation homes in hushed, reverent tones. the autumn leaves that still clung to the trees seemed desperate, the last few hanging on in the icy wind. much like you had been, clinging to jisoo’s side, pretending not to notice the subtle, cutting remarks she’d make about your clothes, your taste in music, your background.

"you know," she’d say in that breathy, disinterested tone of hers, eyes scanning the room like a queen surveying her subjects, "maybe next time you could wear something… a little more appropriate for the occasion?"

the words had stung, but you’d smiled, nodding like you hadn’t just been dressed down in front of people who already looked at you like you were her charity case. you’d downed your drink, hoping the burn of it would distract from the ache in your chest, while jisoo had already moved on, laughing airily at some joke from a man whose name you couldn’t remember, but whose disdainful eyes stayed with you long after the night was over.

at those parties, she’d always introduce you the same way: “this is y/n.”

nothing more, nothing less. like you were just another accessory—another piece of her perfectly arranged life. your name alone always hung in the air, stiff and formal, with no affection behind it. 

it was a title, not a connection.

but the way she spoke about herself was different. she was kim jisoo, daughter of one of the wealthiest families in seoul, a woman who everyone admired but no one truly knew. she never missed a chance to remind people of her lineage, of her success, of the places she’d been that you could only dream of. you’d stand there, smiling politely, the outsider in your own relationship, as she charmed the room with stories of her luxury trips to europe or some exclusive party she’d attended.

you used to tell yourself that maybe this was just her world—one you didn’t quite understand but could learn to navigate. after all, you thought, love was supposed to be about growing, about adapting to each other. but now, looking back, you see it differently. you hadn’t been adapting. you had been erasing yourself.

you remember the first time you’d seen her living room—everything about it had been a display of understated opulence. the couch, soft and inviting, had been custom-made in italy, a piece of furniture that cost more than you’d make in a year. the kind of thing you wouldn’t even dare to sit on without an invitation.

she’d caught you staring at it once, your fingers brushing lightly over the velvety surface, as if afraid you’d leave some permanent mark on it.

“do you like it?” she’d asked, her tone casual, almost playful, as she kicked off her shoes. organic shoes, she’d said—handcrafted by a designer who only used sustainably sourced materials, each pair worth thousands. she’d tossed them carelessly to the side, as if they were nothing more than an afterthought.

“it’s beautiful,” you’d breathlessly answered, unsure of how to respond. what else could you say? the couch was more than a place to sit. it was a symbol of everything that separated you from her.

the older woman had smiled, that knowing little smile of hers, and settled onto the couch, curling her legs beneath her. “it should be,” she’d replied, her voice laced with a subtle arrogance. “it cost a fortune. but you can’t put a price on comfort, can you?”

at the time, you’d nodded, sitting beside her, careful not to spill the coffee you’d brought from a café that seemed almost comically out of place in her world of curated luxury. but now, looking back, you realize how much weight that moment held.

the couch, the shoes, the apartment—it was all part of the same narrative. jisoo’s life was meticulously designed, every element perfectly placed to reflect her status. even her so-called love of organic, sustainable products wasn’t about caring for the earth; it was about showing the world that she could afford to care. it was another layer of the image she presented, another way to remind you that you didn’t quite belong.

the shoes—those ridiculously expensive shoes—had been one of the first things you’d noticed about her. how she would glide through the city in them, effortlessly chic, while you tried to keep up in your well-worn sneakers. how she never seemed to care about the price tag, because to her, money wasn’t something you worried about. it was something you had. something you displayed.

you remember asking her about them once, marveling at their craftsmanship, at the intricate details stitched into the leather. “they’re nice, right?��� she’d said, almost bored with the conversation. “made by a small artisan. i like supporting brands that are more...conscious. but it’s not just about the shoes, you know? it’s about a lifestyle.”

at the time, you’d nodded along, impressed by her philosophy, thinking there was something admirable about her commitment to sustainability. but now, with the clarity that only distance can bring, you see it differently. it wasn’t about responsibility or caring for the environment—it was about exclusivity. 

jisoo didn’t just buy things; she bought status. and as a result, she never let you forget where you came from.

she didn’t need to say it outright; her silences were louder than any words. the way her gaze would graze over your simple gifts, a flash of disappointment quickly masked by a too-sweet smile. the way her laughter, always so soft and melodic to anyone else, would carry a sharp edge when she’d point out how "cute" your attempts to impress her were. every look, every gesture, had been a reminder: you would never be enough.

and the holidays only magnified the divide between you. her family gatherings were a spectacle—elegant, with a quiet kind of opulence, but they were colder than the snow beginning to fall outside. conversations were distant, sterile, filled with politeness and half-meant compliments. you’d watch as jisoo’s mother raised an eyebrow at you, a polite but questioning smile on her lips, while her father barely acknowledged your presence at all, too engrossed in conversations about business acquisitions and real estate.

you remember the first time you had brought her home to meet your family. the warmth in the room had been undeniable, even if the house had been modest. the table was small, the plates mismatched, and the wine was cheap, but there had been laughter. real, full-bodied laughter, the kind that left your cheeks flushed. but jisoo had sat there, stiff and out of place, a polite smile frozen on her lips as she delicately picked at her food. she had said all the right things, but you could tell—she didn’t belong in your world, just as you didn’t belong in hers.

and after that night, she’d never come back. not once.

"it’s not my kind of environment," she’d said, as if your family home was some quaint little corner of a forgotten world. but you hadn’t pushed it. you’d just smiled, hoping that love would eventually smooth out the rough edges between your lives.

but it never did.

your image of her entirely changed once she launched her own dior collaboration.

the transformation was undeniable. jisoo had always been poised, elegant, and out of reach, but when her dior collaboration was announced, it was as if she ascended to another level entirely—a world you never truly belonged to. the moment you saw her in those campaign ads, draped in luxury from head to toe, with that distant, unreadable expression in her eyes, you realized something had shifted. it wasn’t just the clothes or the brand—it was her.

the once subtle differences between you were now glaring. she’d always had a way of making you feel small, of making the simplest moments feel like they were being measured against some invisible standard. but now, with the world’s eyes on her, she no longer had to hide it. she wore her superiority like couture, and her status was no longer just an undercurrent in your relationship—it was the defining feature.

you remember scrolling through your phone that first day the campaign was released, seeing her everywhere—billboards, social media, magazines. her image was iconic, flawless, unattainable. the woman in those pictures wasn’t the same person you once loved, or perhaps she was, and you had simply refused to see it. the jisoo in dior was the one the world adored: polished, elegant, and untouchable. and the jisoo you had known—the one who laughed with you on lazy sundays, who curled up next to you in bed with soft whispers—felt like a figment of your imagination.

that night, you sat in your apartment, surrounded by the faint scent of coffee and fallen leaves, watching her face appear on the tv during yet another interview. the host praised her for her taste, her grace, and asked how it felt to be a global ambassador for such a prestigious brand. jisoo smiled that small, practiced smile, the kind that could melt an audience but had always left you feeling cold.

“it’s an honor, truly,” she said, her voice as smooth as ever. “i’ve always been drawn to the finer things in life, and working with dior is the perfect alignment of that vision.”

drawn to the finer things. those words echoed in your mind long after the interview ended. it wasn’t that she loved the finer things—anyone could—but the way she lived for them, the way they seemed to define her, made you realize just how different you were.

the last time you saw her in person, it was the tail end of last fall, the leaves almost entirely stripped from the trees, the sky a muted shade of gray. you’d met for coffee, though it felt more like a final performance than a reunion. she had walked in, dressed head-to-toe in dior, effortlessly chic in her monochromatic outfit, the click of her heels on the hardwood floor echoing like some distant reminder of all the ways she had outgrown you.

she hadn’t even taken off her sunglasses, those oversized black lenses that concealed any hint of vulnerability. the moment she sat down, you knew—this was the end.

“i’m heading to paris for fashion week,” she had said casually, as if she were talking about a trip to the grocery store. “things have been busy.”

you remember nodding, unsure of what to say, feeling the weight of the unspoken words between you. there was no warmth in her gaze, no familiarity in her voice. the woman sitting across from you was a stranger, more concerned with her schedule, her image, her empire, than with you.

when you finally found your voice, all you could manage was, “i’m happy for you.” it sounded hollow, even to your own ears.

she had smiled—an empty, fleeting gesture. “thanks. it’s good to hear you say that.” her leaving behind the scent of her designer perfume felt more symbolic than it probably should have,

that’s when you knew—there was nothing left of what you once had. 

the girl you had fallen in love with was gone, replaced by someone who only cared for power, prestige, and perception. and as the autumn wind howled outside, rattling the windows of the café, you realized you weren’t mourning the loss of her, but the version of her you had once believed in.

jisoo wasn’t just a woman anymore. she was a brand. a symbol. a masterpiece crafted by the very world she belonged to. and you? you were simply a chapter in her rise to the top, forgotten as soon as the ink dried.

you didn’t date kim jisoo for her wealth. 

you dated her for the way she seemed to know the world in a way you never could—confident, poised, above it all. you thought that maybe, by loving her, you could somehow touch that world too. but love wasn’t what had tied you together. not really.

it had been power.

she loved the way you looked at her, like you were eternally trying to catch up. the way you stumbled over the names of her favorite designers, or blinked in confusion when she mentioned some art exhibit you hadn’t even heard of. she loved the control. and you—god, you had loved her for it. back then, you thought it was awe. now you see it for what it was: submission.

but there, in the middle of the bustling autumn streets, as you watch the leaves scatter across the pavement in a dance as fleeting as your relationship, you find yourself wondering—does she think about you?

does she ever sit in that apartment of hers, surrounded by luxury and untouched by the season, and wonder what it would be like to be less than perfect? does she ever close her eyes and picture the messier parts of love, the parts she could never let herself fall into?

you smile bitterly, pulling your coat tighter around yourself. maybe she does.

maybe, even now, as you wander through the city you had once explored together, her mind drifts to you—the one person who had never fit neatly into the frame of her perfectly curated life. maybe she remembers how, despite everything, you were never quite small enough to be molded. 

and maybe, just maybe, in her moments of silence, with her designer bags and high-rise views, she thinks about how she’ll never find someone quite like you again. someone who saw her for more than just the polished surface she presented to the world. someone who, despite it all, had loved her—flaws, cruelty, and all.

the wind howls, scattering more leaves into the air, and you watch as they swirl and disappear. there’s a certain beauty to the way things fall apart, you realize. a kind of freedom in it.

jisoo might not know that, but you do. however, your mind refused to let you rest.

it was 3 am, and you were still wide awake. the cold light of your phone screen cast shadows on the walls of your tiny apartment, worlds away from the penthouse where jisoo was probably fast asleep. you imagined her there, wrapped in those luxurious silk sheets, her breath steady, undisturbed by thoughts of you. in her city. the one that always felt a little brighter, a little shinier than yours. a place you never quite belonged.

your mind wandered, picturing her with someone new. someone from her world. the kind of girl who knew all the right names to drop at fancy dinners, who could wear those thousand-dollar organic shoes without feeling like an imposter. a girl with a perfect pedigree, someone who her friends probably thought was “better” than you. you could almost hear them whispering it, their voices low but full of certainty.

it wasn’t long ago that you had tried to fit into those circles. you’d been the outsider, awkward and out of place in jisoo’s world of high-society dinners and private parties. but you tried, back when love made you brave, when you thought if you just held her hand tight enough, the rest would fall into place.

they let you sit at the table, once. out of courtesy, or maybe because you were still attached to her arm like an accessory she wasn’t ready to give up. you’d laugh when they laughed, your smile tight as they sat around talking about the meaning of life, throwing around names of philosophers and books you’d never heard of.

“the book that just saved me,” one of them had said, casually, like it was a known fact that certain books saved people. you’d smiled and nodded, even though the title flew right over your head, another reminder of how little you belonged.

jisoo had glanced at you then, her eyes softening in the way they sometimes did when she noticed you struggling. she squeezed your hand under the table, like she used to when you were still hers, when you thought her world was one you could live in.

but that was before. before the doubts crept in, before the weight of her world pressed down on you. now, it felt like she’d moved on, maybe even found someone who fit in effortlessly where you never could. someone who didn’t have to pretend.

you rolled over, the silence of your room closing in, and you couldn’t help but wonder if she was asleep now, completely at peace. and if the girl in her bed had the right name, the right look, and could keep up with her friends when they talked about art and life and all the things that always seemed just out of your reach.

the thought made your chest ache, that deep, familiar loneliness that always seemed to come with thinking about her. about them. those nights when you sat in the background, silently wishing you could be enough. but no matter how much you tried, you could never quite silence the feeling that jisoo’s friends were always comparing you to someone else, someone better.

and tonight, even though you knew it was pointless, you couldn’t stop wondering if they were telling her that the new girl was everything you never could be. or maybe jisoo was out at one of those cool indie concerts she dragged herself to every week, trying to feel young, trying to prove she was still part of the scene, even though she didn’t belong there any more than you did. it was always about feeling cooler than she actually was, pretending she wasn’t inching further from the age of the crowd around her.

but even with her friends laughing by her side, pretending to be someone else, you knew the truth. 

“i bet you think about me.”

[hannibals-favourite-meal]

Bruce Wayne. 2

.⋆｡Batman’s Kryptonite｡⋆.

Bruce Wayne x plus size reader

Bruce works too hard but unluckily for him, you’re more stubborn than he is

Warnings: reader can be sunburnt, fluff, mentions of showering together, workaholic Bruce

Minors DNI

Library- @hannibals-favourite-meal-library

5k Follower Celebration

Bruce was nothing if not a hard worker. He continuously worked himself to the bone to keep everything afloat and for that, you really did admire him. He used his privilege to help so many people both in his day job and his night job but god did you find it hard to spend time with him.

His brain seemed fixated on his goals, even in the quiet moments where there was nothing to do. Nothing ever got his full attention, not even you, his loving girlfriend.

“How long has he been down here?” You crossed your arms over your chest as you observed Bruce who was currently hunched over his new project, blue eyes firmly fixated on the delicate wiring. Alfred sighed heavily through his nose.

“Since the moment he returned from the airport after dropping you off.” Your eyes widened to the size of dinner plates.

“That-“ You took a deep breath in an effort to calm yourself down. “I knew a week long girl’s trip was too good to be true. I’ll take care of this, take a couple days off.” The older man nodded and left the cave with a fatherly squeeze to your shoulder.

As soon as you heard the elevator doors shut, you shed the thick cardigan and long sleeve shirt you were wearing, leaving you just in leggings (that Bruce absolutely went crazy for) and a thin undershirt that did little to disguise the colour of your bra. Your steps were light but not completely silent, it would do you no good to sneak up on the Dark Knight.

Even centimetres away, you could feel the tension in Bruce’s muscles, like he was wound up for a fight. He jumped only slightly as you laid your hands on his shoulder blades but he quickly eased into your tough, letting out a hum of acknowledgement. “Back early?”

“Actually, I’m right on time.” His hands faltered and you knew that his dark brows were pulled up like they always did when he was coming out of a work-related trance. The chair turned yet your hands never left his skin, now resting on his strong chest as he looked up at you. His pupils dilated, slowly overtaking the stunning blue of his irises as he took in your attire.

“Are you sure?”

You chuckled. “I have the sunburn to prove it.” He grunted, obviously not quite believing you, or he just didn’t want to admit that he hadn’t obeyed your suggestion of taking some time off when you were gone. 

“You were supposed to come back on the fifth.” Bruce tried to argue as his eyes flicked back to his work. You knew that look, it was his ‘I want to end this conversation so I can get back to work’ but you knew exactly what to do to distract him.

“It is the fifth, my love. Maybe you need to take a break. How about coming upstairs with me and we’ll have a nice hot shower?” Your touch slowly migrated up his chest to his jaw and Bruce’s eyelids fluttered under the attention. But he just as quickly tensed up again, catching onto your game.

“Sorry sweets, I have work to do.” He attempted to turn his chair back around but you stepped between his spread legs, pinning him to the spot with your body. 

Your bottom lip turned out into a truly award winning pout and you sniffed. “But I missed you baby, I just want to spend some time with you.” You could actually see his will beginning to crumble. One more step.

Tears filled your eyes. “Do you not want to spend time with me?” 

He knew that they were crocodile tears but they tugged at the mass of guilt in his chest anyway. “Do not. I said no. Those puppy dog eyes don’t work every time. Fuck- fine.” Immediately, your tears disappeared and you beamed at him.

“Great! Maybe I’ll also show you the new bikinis I got on the trip.” Bruce groaned and let you pull him to his feet, abandoning his half-finished work.

“You are a cruel woman.” He complained as you dragged him to the cave’s exit. You looked back at your boyfriend with a wink.

“I just know Batman's kryptonite.” You teased and though he wouldn’t admit it out loud, Bruce wholeheartedly agreed. You definitely knew how to get him to fold.

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[thatboreddrake]

So, do y'all remember a while back I made a post about a Stormlight AU where Kaladin becomes an Edgedancer instead of a Windrunner? So that idea was bouncing around in my head, and @catcas22 and I wanted to put down some bullet points of how this would actually change the story:

Kaladin goes off to study as a surgeon in Kharbranth before Amaram comes recruiting

Roshone drafts Tien, but Lirin elects not to send word to Kaladin, as he fears that Kaladin would quit his training and return if he knew

Kaladin gains a reputation as one of the more promising surgeons in Kharbranth

Eventually, one of his patients gets transferred to Taravingian's secret Diagram project (so they can drain their blood for a Death Rattle)

Kaladin, naturally, wants to stay with them and make sure they recover

He's told to "forget about them and move on to the next patient"

He can't accept that, so he starts digging into where the patients are being transferred to (with the help of an unusually talkative spren)

He is interrupted from his investigations by a request to help heal an important foreign dignitary from a strange form of poison

His path intersects with Jasnah and Shallan while he helps Shallan recover from Kabsal's attempted assassination

Over the course of her recovery, Kaladin confides in Jasnah his worries about Taravingian, and enlists the two of them in helping him get to the bottom of it

The three of them use Jasnah's Soulcasting to break into the underground facility

Kaladin freezes when he realizes what Taravingian has been doing and desperately starts trying to heal the people who are having their blood drawn

Kaladin swears his Second Ideal in attempting to escape Kharbranth with the captives

Kaladin, Jasnah, and Shallan depart for the Shattered Plains with as many of the captives as their ship can carry

Meanwhile, in northern Alethkar:

Tien breaks in battle and tries to run away using Lightweaving (Sanderson has confirmed that Tien was some level of Lightweaver)

Tien is captured, then sold into slavery on the Shattered Plains because Amaram decides he's too much trouble

Without Kaladin there to save him, Amaram is killed by nascent Skybreaker Helaran

Helaran gets word that the Surgebinder in Amaram's army is still at large, and heads for the Shattered Plains

Now, on the Shattered Plains:

Tien ends up in the Bridge Crews on Bridge Four (because you gotta have Bridge Four)

While returning from the greatshell hunt, Bridge Four is sent to help the Kholins return to camp

Adolin strikes up a conversation with Tien, as he reminds him of Renarin in a way

Moash arrives on the bridge crews and decides he's going to organize the crews so that they can have a chance at escaping slavery

Adolin notices that an oddly intelligent windspren with a mischievous streak has begun following him around

His conversation with Tien and the rest of Bridge Four has him realize just how bad the situation is under Sadeas for the bridgemen

While considering what to do, he discovers that Tien died on one of the bridge runs

At the urging of his windspren friend, Adolin defies Dalinar's wishes and takes up dueling again, seeking to gain a chance to challenge Sadeas for the freedom of the Bridge Crews

Dalinar is furious and strips Adolin of Plate and Blade, effectively benching him for the rest of the book

When Dalinar leaves for the Tower with Sadeas, he leaves Adolin behind

Adolin refuses to stand by and takes his personal guards to follow after Dalinar, recruiting an off-duty Bridge Four to help him get there

Moash agrees, as he figures that eluding one lighteyes would be far easier than escaping the whole army

Adolin encounters Sadeas's forces on their way back and orders a double-time march to try and save the Kholinar forces if he can

He arrives at the Tower in time to see the Kholinar forces routed and swears the Second Ideal of the Windrunners in a desperate bid to save his army and his father

Moash rethinks his plan after seeing a lighteyes leap, essentially unarmed, across a canyon to try and save his men

Bridge Four establishes an escape route, but the Kholinar forces are decimated by the Parshendi

Adolin fails to find his father, who has been captured and brought back to Narak by Eshonai

Suddenly finding himself to be highprince of Kholinar, Adolin surrenders his Shardblade, which has begun to scream whenever he touches it, in exchange for the bridge crews's freedom

And that's everything that changes for the Way of Kings! I'll go more into Words of Radiance/Oathbringer later, but that's what I have for now!

[fab-bladesmith]

A Carolingian Sword and Scabbard, 9th century.

The blade has a 3-layer core of mild steel over high carbon steel, and high carbon steel edges.

Hot-welded in the fullers are the famous "+ULFBERH+T" mark on one side, and "III XX III" on the other, in pattern-welded 1075 and 15N20 steel - this latter thing being, in my educated opinion, no less important than the other side. Many things have been said about such marks, but the most important thing about them is that they exist (otherwise, to paraphrase Sir Terry Pratchett, it wouldn't be a real sword, just a very dangerous bit of sharp metal) and that they are but one aspect of the continuous function of the sword to carry a message/prayer/ritual thing, a thing appearing as early as the Bronze Age and which would continue up to the Renaissance if not after - working in conjunction with the scabbard to utter/read these spells when the sword is drawn or put back in the scabbard.

The hilt is inspired by sword FG2187 of the Germanisches National museum, found near Mannheim, and is mild steel overlaid in brass and silver (thanks to Matt Bunker for the close-ups), with silver details.

For the grip I drew inspiration from a sword found in river Shannon in 2012 for the placement of the linen threads under the leather cover, which provide both a decorative function and a nice feeling in hand. The overall shape of the grip was determined by stylistic elements of various swords of other types.

The scabbard is leather over linen over steam-formed wood, and lined with 100% wool cloth, stitched at the throat with pure silk thread. I chose not to give it a chape, the end being reinforced by a thick wrap of folded linen bands, as according to Dr Geibig's works. Decoration was made using thread glued under the leather cover.

Cheese glue was used for all this.

The suspension system of leather and brass is loosely made after the finds from the Isle of Man (Cronk Moar and Balleteare). The main issue I had was the bottom D-ring/strap thing, and here I propose a simple arrangement of a leather strap riveted to the buckle plate, and made to fit tightly the scabbard when wet. Upon drying, the strap would shrink and securely fit between the two risers.

The strap ends are in the Trewhiddle style, and were made using the historical process of drawing out a billet and chiselling in the decoration, accordingly to the PhD by Gabor Thomas. No casting involved there.

The making of this project owes a lot to the labours of Dr Mikko Molainen, to whom I address all my thanks.

This whole thing needed an awful amount of trial and error, and I am well aware that not everything is perfect there. Apart from the issues mentioned above, the main difficulties were the hot-inlaying/welding of the marks, but I do thing that most of them came from using modern steel - old/bloomery iron, especially with the proper content in phosphorous (wink at @gaelfabre) would have made the welding easier I think. I'll have to give it a try some day.

[unluckyhoneybee]

A big brain (Auston Matthews)

A reunion with your colleagues makes Auston doubt himself. Auston M. x Phd!Reader.

Note: I was thinking of making a few blurbs about this if anyone has requests, but life is busy right now so I can't promise anything (not many long pieces)

There was something on his eyes that you couldn't identify. Auston was looking around the room, watching people and smiling politely when he had too. But he had barely spoken. You were trapped in a conversation, it seemed to be too important although you couldn't concentrate well.

"YN, what are your expectations now?"

"Hmm" You looked at Arthur, your project director.

"Now that we have received the funds"

You smiled and nodded. "Well, I'm waiting for the permits and hoping to start the field work as soon as possible"

"They are on the way" Arthur smiled at you.

"Really?"

"I talked to them a couple of days ago"

Auston saw you from afar. In second, your eyes lit up. Suddenly, you were smiling so brightly it was contagious. But it only made him want to sink on the seat.

"Really?"

Arthur nodded. "You are starting next week, YN"

You gasped and covered your face. Instantly, your eyes looked for him and Auston felt his chest warmer. The good news were obvious. He wanted to be there by your side and hold your hand. But for some reason, he saw you thank the paople around you and scape.

Your heels echoed through the chatter when you walked to him. There were tears in your eyes. Happy tears.

"Auston"

He caught you right when you hugged him, slightly stumbling on your shoes. With his arms around you and his hand flat between your shoulder blades, plus all the joy in your veins, you squeaked and squeezed him.

Auston chuckled a bit and looked around, cheeking to see how people had reacted. A couple of your mates had warm smiles, a few others looked with judging eyes. Only Auston's glare was needed for them to look away. If his girl was happy, no one would have a word on it.

"Aus" You moved back and cupped his face. "We have the funds. I'm starting next week"

Auston's eyes opened like plates and his heart rate picked up. The joy on his eyes was so visible that you could only kiss him. It was heartwarming to see the person you love celebrate your wins.

"Oh, YN" He hugged you tight and tucked your face on his neck. "I'm so proud of you, you fought so much for this" He kissed your temple and caressed your hair.

The rest of the night was bliss. Auston had stayed by your side, his hand always carefully placed on your hip and a polite smile on his lips when your mates talked to him. For everyone, he was the proud boyfriend, for you, Auston was faking. But not his happiness or pride for you. You could see how genuine his feelings were when he looked at you.

You saw his tie fall to the floor and him walking into the bathroom without even noticing. With a sigh, you picked it up and moved it between your fingers. What was going on? Was it the team? Was it a new injury he hadn't told you about? Were there problems back at home in Arizona?

You took your shoes off and knocked at the door. It was half open and you could see his reflection in the mirror, but you wanted to give him space. He was washing his face and his shirt was gone.

"Come in" He said while drying his face.

You walked in and closed the door behind you. "Hi, babe"

"Hi" He left the towel aside and leaned on the counter. Auston knew what was coming. Your concerned glances hadn't gone unadverted.

You took a deep breath and hugged him from behind. He always loved it when you did that, your body was way smaller and you were kind of hidden behind his reflection. Only your arms around his waist showed on the mirror. You kissed the dagger between his shoulder blades and your hand traveled up to his chest, right above his heart. It was beating fast and his skin was warm.

"What's wrong?" You whispered and laid your head on his shoulder, eyes closed and all.

Auston took a deep breath. He had fucked up your night. The dinner with your co-workers, mentors, the project´s directors, ...

"Aus..." You kissed his shoulder and gently nuzzled your nose on his neck. There were no further intentions, just loving comfort.

One of his hands covered yours for a few seconds before bringing it to his lips.

"I love you" He muttered on your skin.

Your stomach twisted and you lifted your head trying to get a look of his expression. Dead serious.

"What happened?" You wanted to retrieve your hand from his. You trusted him like mad, there wasn't a single person who held it like him. He had you on his hands.

"Nothing. Nothing happened" He said, his voice cracking halfway.

Finally, you moved back. His warm skin was suddenly burning you. "You are scaring me"

Auston lowered his head and cleared his throat. Oh how scared he was of saying his!

"You should be with someone else"

For a while, everything stopped. Your hands were shaking and your mind moving too fast. Meanwhile, Auston was still, not moving and barely breathing. He couldn't get himself to look at you.

"Why do you say that?"

Auston gripped the marble hard, his knuckles even turned white.

"Because... Because who am I? Have you seen the people around you?"

You blinked confused and walked to him. A gentle hand was enough for him to give you space. You found your space between his body and the counter and laid your hands on his chest.

"What do you mean, Auston? Why are you saying this?" This wasn't common for him. He was Auston Matthews, he was laid back and confident, he was one of the best.

"You are a genius" His hand came to cradle your face and by pure instinct, you leaned into his touch. "You are so intelligent, you are getting so many things right. You got the whole group funds for a project" Auston breathed deeply. "I'm just a hockey player, babe. You could have someone like you, with a PhD, your same interests, someone you can talk to about your research. I don't have a big brain like yours, baby" His voice was weak and his eyes sad. It truly broke your heart.

"I don't need or want any of that" You whispered. "I need you so much" You sat on the counter and brought him closer. "I need my hockey player" You pecked his lips and hugged him. "If it wasn't for you, I would have gone crazy, Auston. I need you in my life, you bring so much light and happiness to it. I don't want a researcher or someone like me, I want you"

His hands fisted your dress, now without fear of ruining your outfit. He wasn't sure where this insecurity was coming from, but he hated the feeling. It was a different kind of vulnerability.

"And... Don't even dare to say you are not intelligent, Matthews" You said pulling back a bit. "Because this big brain of yours can make amazing things on the ice. You are not less intelligent than me" You pecked his lips again.

He didn't seem super sure of it.

"Okay?" You kissed his nose.

"It's just... You talk with them and I can barely understand what you say..."

You rolled your eyes with a chuckle. "I still don't know what a power play is about"

He smiled and after a couple of seconds laughed. "I like you how you are, I wouldn't change you for anyone"

"No matter how many Nobel prizes they have?"

"Not when my boyfriend is one of the best hockey players in the league"

Auston brought you closer, completely stepping into your space and wrapping you in a tight hug. "I don't know what got in me" HE muttered on your hair.

"It's alright, we all have our moments" You said and tucked yourself on his neck. "Just talk to me, I don't like when you pout and look like a lost puppy"

Auston kissed your temple. "I love you"

"I love you too, Aus. So much."

[somanyratsinthewalls]

The Crew's Whore Part 7 (+18)

The Crew's Whore Part 7 (+18)

Summary: You are the former owner of the Grand Line’s most popular brothel. Your powerful fighting abilities got the attention of the captain of the Straw Hat Pirates. He had asked you to join their crew but what would you bring to the team? Your battle skills were hardly comparable to many of the other Straw Hats… but you actually had a great skill. Your years working as a high end escort had prepared you to become the private plaything for this pirate crew. You joined the Straw Hats as their personal sex toy.

Pairing: Zoro x Female Reader x Luffy

WC: 2300

TW: threesome, body use, p in v sex, no protection (don't do that), creampie (also don't do that), Luffy isn't asexual (ah), Zoro like has the biggest gay crush on his captain, facefucking, cum eating, no aftercare, being walked in on.

— — 

You roll over in your bed lazily and stretch your arms over your head. It wasn’t often that you got your bed to yourself all night so you truly enjoyed the occasion. You had over 10 hours uninterrupted on your own due to your callers' schedules conflicting and you could have sworn you slept like the dead. 

You slide out of bed and throw on some shorts and a sweatshirt, readying yourself for the quest to find breakfast. After sliding on your slippers, you creep quietly towards the galley and open the door. The galley smelled of coffee, melting butter, and the faint stale smell of cigarettes. You see the fresh carafe of coffee on the kitchen island and pour yourself a cup. You grab your mug of hot coffee and head towards the fridge and open it up to find something to eat. 

 “Y/n? My darling angel what can I get for you? Perhaps a late lunch?” Sanji comes in through the back door of the galley, snuffing out his cigarette. 

“Hi Sanji- wait, late lunch? What time is it?” You cock your head as you let your body lean into Sanji’s extended arms. Sanji wraps his arms around you as you nuzzle into his chest. 

“Almost 4:30, darling. You’ve been asleep, you needed the rest.” Sanji leaned down and kissed the crown of your head. 

“Ah shit, I promised Zoro I’d train today. Could you whip up something now before I head up there? If I show up to a training match with Zoro on an empty stomach I’ll be spending the night in the med bay with Chopper.” You pull away from Sanji to start wrapping up your wrists for your training session. 

Sanji sighed. 

“Of course, my love. I’ll make you something with lots of carbs and protein. Selfishly, I must have you coming home to me, no matter how badly that brute treats you.” Sanji smirks and begins cooking. 

You bring your blades into the galley and begin to sharpen them. At the counter, your eyes oscillate from your swords to Sanji preparing your meal. The way he smiled at you every time he turned around from stove to ask you your preference on something… he was such a dream. He asked you about what was going on in your life while he cooked you a pre training snack. 

“Did Franky tell you about his latest project?” Sanji asks you from across the counter. You didn’t have time to respond before Sanji swiftly slides his slim body to the stove. “Do you want butter on your croissant?” Sanji changes gears as he begins to plate your meal. 

“Yes please.” You respond. 

Before you had time to process Sanji’s previous question, the most beautiful presentation of scrambled eggs on a French pastry was being placed in front of you. 

“Jeez Sanji, if I knew I’d get this type of treatment, I’d snooze the day away more often.” Your eyebrows raise and you grab your fork. 

Sanji smiles as he sprinkles a few chives on your dish before you dig in. 

“Bon appetit, mon ange.” 

— — 

You scarfed your early dinner down and headed up to the crows nest, knowing Zoro would be waiting for you to train. You ascended the ladder and opened up the hatch to let yourself into the circular crows nest. Upon arriving to Zoro’s makeshift dojo, you find him bench pressing an impossibly heavy weight over his chest. 

“You’re late.” Zoro scolds you without looking in your direction. 

“Hello to you too, swordsman.” You shed your sweatshirt, leaving you in a sports bra and bike shorts. 

“I told Luffy I’d practice with him later, so I’m not sparring with you tonight. We’re doing weights. Grab those over there.” Zoro nods towards a pair 40 lb dumbbells and you grabbed them. You weren’t brought onto the crew as a fighter, but as a Straw Hat you were obviously able to physically hold your own. You grab the weights and begin your routine.

“You smell like that shitty waiter.” Zoro eventually remarks after you spent nearly 30 minutes working out in silence. 

“I slept late, I needed food. Leave it alone, Zoro.” You roll your eyes at him while you continued your workout. 

“You were the one who said you wanted to spend time with me, and now you’re here smelling like cigarettes and male loneliness.” 

You chuckle and almost lose pace in your weight lifting. 

“Now that you’ve seen each other naked I figured you might be getting along better.” You smirk, purposely riling your swordsman up. 

“Don’t be gross, y/n. I didn’t need to see that to know I have the bigger dick.” Zoro continues pushing the heavy weight away from his chest. Endorphins were pumping through your veins from your workout so you decide to change up your routine. 

“Are you jealous, Mr Roronoa?” You pick up new weights and begin a rep of squats, making sure Zoro could see your ass flex in the tight spandex. 

Zoro scoffs. 

“I don’t get jealous. I just like having my girl to myself. And I know you enjoy our time together too…”

“Like last week when you had me bent over the aquarium bar?” You recall a particularly filthy instance where Zoro had taken you roughly after a tipsy night filled with sake bottles and inappropriate touches. 

“Yeah…” Zoro huffs out, continuing his reps. “Just like that…” 

You could feel his eyes on your body as you tried to maintain focus on your exercise. After several more minutes, Zoro puts the weighted bar back onto the rack and he breaks the silence. 

“Come sit on my cock.” 

You smile and set your weights down. You begin to saunter over to Zoro laying on his back on the weight bench, his pants tented. 

“No romance today, swordsman?” You lift your sports bra over your head, letting your breasts bounce freely. Zoro groans at the sight of your naked tits. You slip your bike shorts down your legs and step out of them as you reach your green haired lover. “Needy, hmm?” You stroke his growing bulge over his pants and smile down at him. 

“The only thing I need is for you to ride this dick and be good. Now hop up.” Zoro unfastens his pants and pushes them down his legs, freeing his now hard cock that bobbed towards his abdomen. You begin to straddle him before Zoro stops you with his powerful, scarred hands on your hips. 

“Nah uh. Turn around. Wanna see that ass bounce.” Zoro swings your body around so you’re facing away from him and towards the hatch to the crows nest in the center of the room. He lifts your hips again and settles your entrance over his erection. He spits into one of his hands and smears it over the head of his cock. He sinks you onto him without any prep and you whine out. 

One fully seated on Zoro’s lap, you wiggle your hips to get used to the full sensation. Zoro kneads at your ass cheeks to encourage you. 

“I know it’s a lot baby, take your time.” Zoro flexes his thighs and bounces you softly, feeling your walls become slicker and accept his intrusion easier and easier by the moment. 

“Fuck you’re so big, Zoro… shit…” You sigh as you feel the stretch of his cock inside of you turn into white hot pleasure. You firmly plant your feet on the floor and begin grinding on Zoro at your own pace. You find the perfect angle for Zoro to hit your sweet spot and continue your movements on top of him. You moan and throw your head back. 

“How are you this tight? Fuck-“ Zoro grunts and grips your hips tighter. “Am I the only one on this ship that fucks you properly?” 

Your body was alight with endorphins from the intense workout and the feeling of your lover inside of you, you couldn’t help but grin brainlessly as you bounce faster on Zoro’s cock. 

“You always fuck me so good, Zoro. Love your cock so much…” You were dick drunk so fast, you hardly knew what was coming out of your mouth. You hear your lover growl from behind you at your filthy words. He grabs your arms and pulls them behind you. He uses them as leverage to pound up into you from below. 

“Zoro, fuck, Zoro!” His name poured from your lips like a powerful waterfall as he held you completely powerless in his strong hands. Your body leans forward lifelessly as Zoro holds your arms from behind you. Your head bobs pathetically as he drills into your wet pussy from underneath you. 

“Zoro!” 

Zoro’s eyes are drawn away from your jiggling ass cheeks slamming onto his pelvis. Was that last ‘Zoro’ from you? It sounded different. 

The hatch to the crows nest slams open. 

“Zoro! We’re supposed to train tonight! Sanji just barbecued half of a whole sea king for me so I hope you’re ready to get your ass kicked haha!” Luffy hops up excitedly into the crows nest. 

You gasp. 

“Luffy!” You instinctively yell out in surprise. 

“Oh, seems like you guys are still busy, huh!” Luffy chuckles out at your shocked expression. 

“Oh hey Captain.” Zoro peers around your naked body atop his dick as he looks towards Luffy. “Sorry, training with y/n went a little long.” Zoro bucks his hips up again into yours and you moan. “Hope you don’t mind.” 

“Thats okay!” Luffy grins and walks towards you two on the weight bench. “Wow, y/n you’re really sweaty haha!” Your captain gets close enough to your to push your damp bangs off of your forehead. You had never been propositioned by Luffy, you hadn’t questioned it, just assuming he’d rather fight or eat than fuck. 

“You know, Luffy…” Zoro begins. “You could take her mouth, I’m sure she’s more than willing. Right, y/n?" Zoro punctuates his last sentence with a hard thrust into your sweet spot. 

“AH! Fuck, yes!” Your mouth hangs open and your tongue lolls out. “Oh yeah?” Luffy giggles. “She is already drooling everywhere. You’d share her with me, Zoro?” Luffy asks, getting closer to your face. 

“Whatever my captain wants.” Zoro smirks devilishly. Luffy smiles back and begins undoing his demin shorts in front of your face. Zoro moves his hold from your arms to your wrists behind your back so you could lean down further to be at Luffy’s crotch level, all while pounding into your soaking cunt. Luffy releases himself from the confines of his clothes and his cock bobs in your face. 

“Ok baby girl, time to suck off your captain. Open wide…” Zoro goads you from behind. Without having use of your hands, you clumsily take Luffy’s red, uncut tip into your mouth. You hungrily slurp down Luffy’s cock as you moan out from the powerful fucking you were getting from Zoro. 

“You’re really good at that, y/n!” Luffy praises you and pets your hair gently. “Mmm, move your tongue more… mm yeah just like that!” 

“Hnnmmpphh!” You groan around your captain’s thick length. 

“Oooh, that’s good too! Zoro do whatever that was again, she feels so good when she moans!” 

“Aye aye, Captain.” Zoro obliges and pounds into your g-spot again and again while leaving bruising fingerprints on your hips. 

You try to keep your throat open as your feel your body being hurtled over the edge of orgasm. 

“She’s cumming. I can feel it- oh fuck!” Zoro feels himself being wrapped up in the pleasure of your tight pussy milking him while you rode out your orgasm. Tears begin to fall from your lash line as you start to become overstimulated. So many hands on you, you didn’t know whose belonged to who… in your hair, on your breasts, squeezing your neck… you were in a world of pleasure. You whine. 

“I’ll fill you up baby, don’t worry.. shit-” Zoro finished inside of you with one final thrust of his hips upward into your soft cunt. 

“Me too, y/n.” Luffy remarks at you as he fucks your face. “Now don’t waste, it, okay? It’s good for you!” Before you could respond, Luffy shoots an impossibly large load down your waiting throat. You sputter and the rest of the cum you couldn’t swallow spills out around the sides of your mouth. Luffy pulls away from your face and wipes your lips with his pointer finger. He pushes it back inside of your mouth. 

“All of it.” Your captain has a sinister glint in his eye as he smiles down at you. 

You grin up at him stupidly, still coming down from your orgasm. Luffy quickly tucks himself back into his shorts and chuckles at you. 

“Okay y/n, I’ve gotta train with Zoro. Maybe you should take a shower or something! Hah!” Luffy grabs your clothes by extending his rubbery arms and helps you off of Zoro’s dick and back into your garments. You had felt well rested earlier, but now you’re totally wiped. 

“Maybe I should take it easy tonight, thanks Cap.” You pull your hair up into a messy bun and head over to the hatch of the crows nest to return to your bedroom. 

“Hey, don’t fall asleep. I’m coming by after training.” Zoro calls at you. 

“Oh? Maybe I’ll come too, hehe!” Luffy laughs. 

“I certainly look forward to it, gentlemen.” You smirk as you lower yourself out of the hatch and go to freshen yourself… just in case round 2 was in your future. 

xx

[lesbianpepsi]

Fuck it I love you | part II

pairing: sam carpenter x fem!reader

summary: When paired with Tara Carpenter for a project you were expecting a B or maybe even an A. Not falling in love with Tara's older sister, Sam.

series masterlist

words: 2.627k

warnings: light swearing, reader is a oblivious idiot,

authors note: i love y'all, remember to stay hydrated and stay safe:)

You have been going to the Carpenter apartment quite frequently after your first visit there; the nervous first time going over there jitters you had completely vanished. Your and Tara’s progress on the project had decreased but neither you cared, especially you. 

On the second week of heading over to Tara's place it was hotter than usual in New York.

The sun danced in the clear blue skies as it warmed up the world to a heat that border-lined into uncomfortable.

Sighing dramatically you dropped your head till it collided with the table with a thud.

"It's too hot to be working." You grumbled through the avalanche of pieces of papers and notebooks that filled up the dining room table.

Tara giggled, clearly amused as she stopped writing for a second. "It's hot but bearable." 

You shook your head against the table, tilting your head to the side to get a look at her. "It's not bearable, i'm sweating like a pig."

"You're not sweating like a pig, you're just being dramatic."  She quipped back with a smile, looking at you with raised eyebrows.

Rolling your eyes you picked your head back up, sitting up straight on the wooden chair again. "You say dramatic, I say the truth."

She chuckled as she began writing again on the paper, her penmanship unbelievably much better than yours.

"If you're that hot then there's a watermelon in the fridge, feel free to cut some slices." You didn't hesitate another second before you jumped up from your seat and headed towards the kitchen.

Opening the magnet covered fridge you quickly spotted the half cut watermelon wrapped in a thin layer cling film, with a greedy smile you took it out of the fridge before gently placing it on the closet cutting board.

"You want a slice?" You asked, turning back to look at her, she turned to look at you, nodding her head with a little smile. "Please."

Turning back to look at the watermelon you unwrapped it, tossing the plastic to the side as you eyed up the wooden knife block. 

Each knife grew in size at every slit made in the box, you opted for the largest knife. A satisfying noise filled your ears as you pulled out the sharp knife, the blade glistening from the sunlight directing into the apartment window.

Skilfully you sliced a few slices of watermelon for you and Tara, placing the two slices on a plate.  You were about to begin cleaning up when you heard a laugh from the other room, your eyes widened as you remembered who else was here.

Sam! 

Maybe Sam, Mindy and Chad would want some watermelons, you thought to yourself, a nervous smile growing on your face as you thought of Sam.

The woman practically lived in your mind ever since you met her, her grumpy glare never failing to light up your day.

Without another thought you walked over towards the living room, the sound of laughter getting louder as you entered. 

"Sam?" You asked gingerly with a nervous smile still on your face. At the sound of your voice the trio turned to look at you, their eyes widening dramatically as they froze.

Sam's eyes are glued to your hand before they lock with your eyes, her dark eyes cold and wary. 

You noticed Chad moving his arm over Mindy as he used his large build to hide most of her, as if he's hiding her away from you as they shuffled backwards.

"Would you like a slice?" You asked her with a joyful smile, completely unaware of the panic rising between the trio. Not noticing how dark your innocent words could be heard as.

"I've cut some watermelon slices if you'd like one, and you two can have some too of course." 

Sam's eyes flicked back down to the knife in your hand as the blade glistened with a light red liquid, dripping onto the floor.

"Watermelon?" She questioned as she slowly stood up, not moving closer towards you. You nodded your head, your smile growing nervously as Sam actually interacted with you.

"Yeah!" Without thinking you raised your hand which carried the knife to point towards the kitchen. "I could go and get them if you'd like?"

Sam glanced over your shoulder and into the doorway of the kitchen. "Tara?" She yelled with a small wobble to her voice.

You cocked your head to the side confused as to why she was asking for Tara. 

"Yeah?" Tara replied from the kitchen, not bothering to get up. "Are you okay?" She asked, her dark eyes returning back to yours. You smiled sweetly at her, she glared heavily at you.

A dull sound from the kitchen rang throughout the room before Tara joined the rest of you in the living room. 

It didn't take a genius to understand why Sam is so confused.

"Y/n, what're you doing with the knife?" Tara asked as she looked between you and the wet knife. You waved your hand back to the kitchen, the blade skimming past your cheek. Tara's breath hitched momentarily at your carelessness with the knife in your hand.

"I was cutting up the watermelons?" You explained, confused to why you are getting so many questions that didn't answer your question; did Sam want a watermelon slice?

Tara sighed as she took the knife from your hand, glancing at Sam who visibly looked much more relaxed with you no longer holding the knife. 

"Go get your slices, Y/n." She said with a laugh. You nodded your head as you headed towards the kitchen to grab the plate full of slices for everyone.

—————

The 'Watermelon incident' - as Tara called it- got you suspended from the apartment for two days. 

When Tara told you that you were royally confused and even slightly hurt, but when you thought about the situation the more you realised how concerned and even angry that must've made the twins and Sam. You couldn't help but feel bad as you texted your apologies to everyone through Tara. She found the situation humorous but Sam certainly didn't. 

"Wanna come to the gym with me?" Melanie -your best friend- asked you randomly as she paused the movie the two of you have been watching for the past hour.

You give her a disgusted look. "The gym? Why the hell would you wanna go to the gym on a Saturday?" You asked her, completely bewildered by the idea. Saturdays are for being lazy and relaxing, not working out so on Sunday you'll be sore and uncomfortable.

Melanie shrugged her shoulders. "I need to get started on my New Year's resolution."

"It's July." You say.

"And? I already know that." The blonde replied as if you're the idiot. "You haven't been to the gym at all this year and you decide halfway through the year to begin your resolutions?"

She rolled her eyes, folding her arms over her chest. "Going to the gym at least five times was my resolution, not live there. I think I'd actually die if I went there consistently." 

You chuckled as you smiled at her. Melanie grinned as she slapped her knees, standing up. 

"Is that a yes?" 

You scoffed, shaking your head. "No way."

She groaned as she grabbed your hands attempting to pull you up, but you weren't budging. 

"C'mon, I'm bored and all we've been doing today is listen to you talk about Sam and how excited you are for the Barbie movie." 

"Two very valid and fun topics." You defend as you pull your hands back. Melanie didn't give up as she kept trying to tug you up. "For you. I've never even met this Sam you're obsessed with."

Your stance weakened at her slight dig at your crush, at that Melanie swiftly pulled you to your feet. Ignoring the fact Melanie won the game of tug of war you crossed your arms over your chest.

"I am not obsessed with Sam." You said with weak authority. The blonde raised her eyebrows teasingly as she mimicked your stance. "Oh yeah? Prove it. Come to the gym with me instead of lounging here and talking about Sam."

You clenched your jaw as you debated your options. If you stayed in your shared apartment then all you'd do is create fake scenarios about you and Sam while listening to Lana Del Rey and you'd prove Melanie right. If you went with her to the gym you certainly would be distracted from Sam plaguing your thoughts due to the fact you'd be dying.

There was simply no winning. 

With a sigh you nodded your head weakly, your pride getting the best of you.

"Fine, I'll come with you." Melanie's smug smile urges you to take back your words but before you get the chance she's already grabbing at your wrist and dragging you towards your room.

"Get changed and for the love of god please bring a big ass water bottle with you. I'll meet you in my car."

You grumble out a response but do what she asked you to do. You didn't have many "gym" clothes so you simply decided on a pair of shorts and a shirt that were dark enough so they wouldn't reveal your sweat stains. 

Once you had filled the large bottle of water you double checked you had your phone and wallet before meeting Melanie in her car. She was already inside it and behind the wheel as Korn played loudly.

"We'll have fun, I promise." She reassured you as she started to drive towards the gym. You scoffed as you nodded your head. "Yeah sure."

Melanie and you arrived at the gym after twenty minutes, her being ecstatic to finally actually use her gym membership card. 

"Alright, what should we do first?" Melanie asked you as you two entered the surprisingly quiet gym. 

"I don't know about you but I'm heading towards the treadmill." You replied as you walked over to the treadmill section without waiting for her response. 

You hear her groan from behind you with footsteps following you soon after.

From the view on the treadmill it gave you further access to use the entire gym. 

A myriad of different people doing various different activities that you admired greatly, impressed by these strangers who clearly loved the gym.

But a pair of people caught your attention immediately, Melanie's too.  

"Holy shit that might be the most gorgeous man I have ever seen in my life." She whispered breathlessly next to as she jogged at a slow speed on the treadmill. You swallowed nervously as you gazed at the woman next to the man, she's using one of the pull up bars while the man sat next to her using a stupidly heavy dumbbell. 

A grey tank top on her figure as she flexed her back and shoulders muscles, pulling herself up and down flawlessly.

You glanced at the man as you walked on the treadmill. 

"Oh my god it's Chad and Sam." You whisper yelled to Melanie, turning to face her with wide eyes. "If the workout doesn't kill me, seeing her working out will actually stop my heart!"

A shit eating grin quickly appeared on Melanie's face as she turned to look at you. "Damn, I'm straight but I can totally see why you're obsessed with her."

"I'm not obsessed with her." You reminded her as you glanced back at Sam's muscles flexing beautifully under the light, a small sweat on her skin which glazed her skin making her look even more attractive.

You could feel your heartbeat pick up its pace and you're more than sure it's not because of the slow pace you're doing on the treadmill. 

"Sure you're not. Let's go over there then." She proposed with a sly grin. 


You shake your head instantly at her words, chuckling nervously. "Isn't it like gym code to never disturb someone while they're working out?"

Melanie sighed as she played with the screen of the treadmill making it go faster. "You're right." You grinned triumphantly. "Guess I'll just go to ask Chad for some help when he's done with his rep." Your smile dropped. 

"And leave me so you can try to flirt with him?" Melanie nodded her head.

You didn't reply as you tried to focus on anywhere that wasn't Sam's glorious back. 

Jesus christ, maybe you are obsessed with this woman. 

After a solid ten minutes of a decent pace Melanie abruptly stopped her machine as she hopped off. You turned to look at her confused as you kept walking. 

"I'm going to go on the bench press and ask Chad for some help, see you soon babe." She confirmed with a comfort smirk, giving you a wink before she headed towards Chad and Sam's direction.

You didn't dare move off of the treadmill as your eyes followed Melanie's figure heading towards the two as Chad had finished his reps.

As she arrived at where Chad and Sam were working out, Sam slowed down as Chad smiled up at her. 

Whatever Melanie said to Chad must've worked since both were grinning like fools as they headed towards where the bench press was at.

You chuckled to yourself as you watched the two momentarily as Chad "helped" her with the bench press. 

Unconsciously your eyes flickered back to where Sam was at, to your surprise she wasn't there anymore.

"Y/n." Sam's gruff voice greeted you as she hopped on the treadmill. Your feet tripped over each other but thankfully you not so gracefully caught yourself as you smiled at her, not expecting to see her.

"Sam! Nice to see you again, how've you been doing?" You asked with a nervous laugh as your heart rate picked up once again. 

"I've been okay. You?" She asked dryly as she increased the speed to her treadmill, jogging with a speed that doubled your slow walking pace. 

You smiled dreamily at her, not bothered at all by her dry tone. "I've been alright thanks for asking, how's Tara been?" 

Sam's interest piqued due to you asking about her sister, a small, an almost non existent smile appeared on her lips. 

"Tara's good, she's currently with Mindy playing Mario Kart. She sucks tremendously at it." Her smile grew the more she talked about her younger sister, it didn't fail to make your heart soar.

"You're a good sister, you know." You mention with your own smile, increasing your pace slightly. "It's obvious you care a lot about her and I find that really sweet. Tara's lucky to have you as a sister." 

Sam didn't say anything; the sounds of yours and her footsteps filled the growing silence. You didn't mind, as long as you're with Sam you'll take it.

You and Sam jogged side by side in a comfortable silence for another ten minutes before Sam stopped her own machine, you glanced at her and couldn't help but find the flush on her cheeks completely adorable.

Something Tara would call you a lunatic for.

She's breathing heavily as her eyes locked with yours, a crooked weak smile on her face. 

"Thank you." She said in a tone that wasn't her usual dark and dry tone. Your ears warmed up as your eyes twinkled with joy at her words.  

"You don't have to thank me when all I'm doing is saying the truth, Sam." You assured her as you carried on walking, the excessive beating of your heart now being a mix of Sam's small smile and your increasing speed.

Sam stayed silent once again, giving you a curt nod before she turned her back, heading towards the changing room. 

God, Melanie was right, you're obsessed with her. 

[sw5w]

Double-Bladed Lightsaber

STAR WARS EPISODE I: The Phantom Menace 01:51:03

[fallenneziah]

Dating the Transformers Decepticon Boys.

Some little headcanons for some of the boys.

Shockwave:

Small hand in big hand, small hand in big hand!

Shockwave is reserved. Once in a relationship with you he has to come to terms with the emotions he thought he would never feel again. So he takes his time in coming to know both you and these new ideas and feelings that are surrounding him.

He's horny.

Despite being alone most of the time and focusing on his sciences, Shockwave will not pass up a single opportunity to get down in the berth. At first he would not interface at all, but now he likes to get in time at least once every couple of days, a week at most.

He's jealous. Easily too.

Another emotion he isn't used to it jealously, so when someone does something to turn that switch, whether it be talking, staring, or touching, he will lose it.

Everyone is already pretty scared of him, like Soundwave, he doesn't need to say or do much to make a point. But he will strain his stance above yours and shadow you with his structure. He'll burn his look into their soul until they get the hint and scurry.

His love language is gifts. He loves to present you with his projects and make different things for you. And he won't say it, but he will cherish every little trinket you bring him in return.

Behind closed doors when his work is put out of the way he is very affectionate. He wouldn't say it but he never thought you'd want him in a berth because of his lack of s left arm. But you two got around it and you make sure to nestle little compliments into your conversations.

Knockout:

One hundred percent the guy who will come around behind you as you use his tools and guide your hands while whispering the instructions in your ear.

A tease.

He loves to drop subtle hints around the Nemesis and will kiss you around the hallways.

Everytime you come back from a mission he urges you to the medbay and will look all over you for scratches or dents. Same before you leave, he wants to make sure those puny Autobots see his sparkmate at their best.

He is a tease, but he doesn't have as high a sex drive as someone like Predaking or Makeshift for example. He enjoys a good frag, but blow jobs under the operating table are his favorite kind of intimacy.

He is very jealous. Not in an insecure way, he is very sure in his image. However, he doesn't like when others make sly compliments about your frame. Sure, they can tell you how amazing your paint is or the curve of your hips, but if it's anything explicit he will be very upset. He'll threaten them with his blades, "If you want one so bad, why don't I give you a new look!" Or something along those lines.

If he's feeling more chill and sly, he'll walk over during the conversation and slip his servo against your hip plating. He'll caress your waist and watch with the smirk of the devil as the mech or femme slowly comes to realization.

He loves when you compliment him. His love language is words of affirmation and gifts, so you'll find a miniature version of his vehicle mode next to your bed or some other kind of trinket.

Predaking:

Very, very, very protective.

He makes sure to put any unworthy mech or femme in their place. The second anyone - even Megatron looks at you funny it is on.

He has a very high sex drive and will often leave you locked in your berth for hours just so he can love on you. He's mindful of your body however. He'll make sure to mark you his up and down your frame from your neck cables to your ankles.

He was eager to learn about you when he met you. He found an instant attraction and his long dormant mating protocols would roar to life every time you looked his way.

He will court you with shiny objects he finds. Often bringing back sharp scrap metal or rocks. He adores giving you gifts, but touch is his love language.

He could sit in his bed and hold you close until the world exploded. As long as you are with him he feels at peace and confident.

He was very shy around you at first. He wasn't a clumsy doufas, but he would show off his strength by straightening his stance and glaring down other mechs. He enjoyed showing off his beast form in front of you and would act so confident and put together. The second you opened a conversation with him. The poor boy couldn't put a sentance together he was so embarrassed and nervous.

Predaking is un-fucking-touchable. When the Vehicons or the commanders see the markings along your frame they steer clear. If any unlucky 'con is so dumb enough to get on Predaking's turf and even attempt to court his mate it's over. There is no point in running. Death in inevitable.

Either that or he will beat them to near death.

Once your back in his arms he'll hold you close the rest of the day and growl lowly at anyone who comes near.

The only person he trusts to be around you is Shockwave. As a predacon he is constantly in protect mode and anything that is his will be protected until he dies.

Megatron:

Megatron took a liking to you quickly. You caught his eye with how fluent you were with your tasks and how reputable you were on the battlefield.

Only the most powerful and fit can be his mate, and he thought you were perfect. So, he decided you were his. He wasn't exactly sure how to get your attention or how to work a relationship all that well. So he just started telling the vehicons you were his until you found out. When confronted with the facts he seemed only slightly embarrassed and more confused. "Yes..?"

You told him you'd think about it so Megatron let it be. Manz is impatient as fuck. He was so head over heels for you that if you couldn't make your mind then he would court you.

Poems. Poems. Poems. EVERYWHERE.

He would leave them on your desk, in your room, anywhere he knew you would see it. With respect of the vehicons because if they caught him being such a simp it would end his career.

He doesn't have the highest sex drive, but he enjoys fragging as much as the next 'con. Once he gets you in his room he will keep you there until he sees fit for you to leave. And whatever happens in that time happens.

He's also less of a jealous person and more protective. If someone makes s suggestive move or talks to you in a certain way he will act. Commanding and assured he will back them off and get you in his arms to protect you.

His love language is words of affirmation. He will praise you when you have done something good and you do so in return. He definitely enjoys it.

Starscream:

I can't decide between these two so I will leave them here... He is either super horny all the time, or, like Megatron he has a lower sex drive but once in the berthroom it can last quite a while. Round after round.

He gets flustered around you easily. He'll stammer and try to appear smaller and more innocent like he does when he is in trouble with Megatron.

Once he gets his hands on you however he is a tease to Cybertron and back. He will whisper words in your ears while you work or give your aft a pinch as you're walking by.

He doesn't hide your relationship either. Every seeker that exists knows of you two. He's not afraid to be open and deliberate about how you two are.

Therefore, most on the Nemesis are aware you are taken and busy themselves elsewhere. Those few who do might just get away with it.

Starscream is the most jealous out of everyone on the Nemesis. He is very insecure about himself and everything in general. All he is confident in are his dumb plans and his backstabbing ways.

Of a much larger mech attempted to court you he might just leave you to handle it. You're capable of saying no right? And if you don't then he'll be spark broken.

If it's a Vehicon or a seeker he will feel much more confident in himself. Often times using his rank to boss people away from you and back to work. But when he can't hide behind his rank he gets much more nervous. Overall, you're kind of on your own if things get physical.

"You scratch my back, I scratch yours," His love language is definitely acts of service/favors, and words of affirmation. He loathes getting praises and is a sucker for the treatment. But he also enjoys doing favors for something in return, and vice versa.

Soundwave:

An absolute cuddle bug in bed. When no one is looking he'll scoop you up in his large arms and hug you against his chest.

He never confessed his attraction, you came to him. He refused to confess, but he would leave you sweet notes and quotes from popular poems whenever he could.

He acts cold and distant but you know better. Soundwave isn't a mech who is known for his emotions. He does not speak and you are not an exception. The relationship can often feel one-sided and conversation is limited, but you find peace in it.

Your relationship is way underground and no one even suspects that the two of you are into each other. So when someone asks you out nervously on a date, you couldn't blame the guy.

Soundwave isn't jealous. He has learned to work around his emotions and has very good control over his outbursts. So before you respond he'll reply, "Negative." In a deep, almost threatening voice. Usually followed by you apologizing and explaining you are already taken and going about your business.

It's simple.

But if you are defied and they continue to push, he'll simply get Laserbeak to chase him away for a while.

You are very appreciative of Soundwave and all that he does for you. He love to kiss his faceplate and around his collar fins. And he enjoys it. He'll lean info you and purr happily as you kiss along his jaw.

Soundwave's love language can differ from time to time, but he most enjoys quality time with you. Even if he's working and drowned out in tasks he enjoys the presence you bring to the cold room. If your rambling on he'll do his best to listen.

*********

Apologies for any spelling mistakes :/

[illusionsofdreaming]

birds without feet;

Notes: I return to the blog with this monster of a ficlet. This was actually written for @nin-deer who very graciously allowed me to share it on the blog as well. A small imagine that grew out of control haha... enjoy~ Ft: Beacrox

It was but a subtle shift of air that caused him to abandon his project. In an instant, he whipped around, knife in hand, its sharp blade poised just above the intruder's jugular, ready to cut deep with the slightest pressure.

Despite the threat of a blade at your neck, your smile was relaxed as you lifted the roll of parchment in your hand. “Delivery!”

His eyes quickly scanned the kitchen, noting the shifted curtains he pieced together your point of entrance. Only when you wiggled the paper impatiently did he finally drop the knife and swiped the parchment from your hand, ignoring your huff of laughter as he scanned over its contents.

“It’s nice to see you too Beacrox. How have you been?” 

Your attempts at casual banter were ignored, but the moment you began reaching for the food on the table, his gaze snapped to yours, promising pain should you attempt further.

You were wise enough to heed his warning as you stepped back, hands raised in surrender. “Sheesh, you’re not going to make any friends if you keep acting this way.”

Crumpling the piece of paper, he threw it into the fireplace as you clicked your tongue in mock annoyance.

Had he cared for your opinion, he might’ve been annoyed, alas it was easy to dismiss as he threw a pouch in your direction, the clink of gold muted as you caught it from the air. He watched as you tossed the bag a few times before pocketing it.

You must have caught the confusion on his face as you glanced up with a grin. “I know you won’t cheat me of my payment.”

Though it was the truth—Molan’s motto was always to repay what’s due—such blatant admission of trust from someone working in the dark underbelly of society puzzled him, and without meaning to, he’d let his displeasure slip through. “It could’ve been filled with rocks.”

You blinked, head tilted as if you’re considering the possibility, then you laughed. “Then I suppose I’ll be a few pretty rocks richer.”

He scowled and returned to his work, grabbing his knife to hide the flush of annoyance he felt by your flippant answer. You knew such responses would annoy him, and he refused to give you the satisfaction of being correct.

One does not survive long in the underworld with their morals and innocence intact. Your deliberate pushing of buttons was another tactic to wheedle information from your targets, and he wasn't inclined on revealing anything. You already know far too much as is.

“Leave,” he ordered, his limited patience well and truly spent. 

“Always a pleasure talking to you, Bea~”

He threw the knife in his hand, but by the time he turned around, you were already gone. The only evidence of your visit was the lingering echoes of your laughter and a missing tart from the plate of desserts he'd prepared earlier.

━ ⋅𖥔⋅ ━━✶━━ ⋅𖥔⋅ ━

As you kept the package just out of his reach, he couldn’t help but think: for a grown person jaded by the underworld, you sure liked acting like a child at times.

“You just thought of something rude didn’t you?”

His gaze snapped to yours. “You forget who you’re dealing with.” he warned coldly. The Molan household might have fallen from grace but just because he had traded his daggers for kitchen knives, they were no less lethal in his hands. Was it confidence or foolishness that made you dare to test his patience?

The silence in the kitchens was deafening as your eyes met across the counter. 

“I haven’t,” You said finally, “not once.” Your smile was wry and lacked its usual cheer but the heaviness in your tone bore the weight of many secrets, of someone who knew far more than what they’re letting on. He’s faced with an uncanny sense of unbelonging and emptiness that seemed eerily familiar. 

But with a blink of an eye, the mask that had slipped had righted itself. “I have a change of mind,” You sat on the edge of the counter island, tension and somber mood shaken off, replaced with an all too sunny smile. “I’d like another form of payment for the information I’m selling.”

He felt anger lick up his throat as his fist clenched above the table. “That was not part of our deal.”

“An amendment to the agreement then, if you will-”

“I refuse.”

Your peals of laughter filled the room, “You didn’t even let me finish!”

“I refuse.” He repeated sternly. Knowing your personality, it would be an amendment that would greatly irritate or inconvenience him. 

“I’d like you to cook a dish for me.” You continued, ignoring his words. 

There was a sharp snap as the corner of the table cracked under his hand as incredulity stole over his face. 

To begin with, payment for your services had never been cheap, each bag of gold was worth more than several months’ worth of food. If all you wanted was a decent meal, then you’ve already been charging enough to dine at any of Roan kingdom’s finest restaurants.

“It’s not a dish that can be found on any menu in the kingdom.” You tutted as if you knew the thoughts that were going through his head. “It’s not something that can be bought with gold.” 

You’re pulling his leg. “And why do you think I’d care to create a dish no one’s heard of?” Beacrox asked through gritted teeth.

“I know you don’t.” You laughed, lips slanted with a smile. “It’s something I’ve tasted a long time ago but have no idea how it’s made. I’ll describe what I remember and if you believe it’s impossible to recreate or not worth the hassle,” you shrugged in an exaggerated display of nonchalance, “then I’ll take the usual payment like nothing’s changed. It’s a good deal for you right?”

Nothing about this deal made sense. You’re essentially offering your services for free while he’d benefit regardless of whether he succeeds in recreating the dish or not. His expression was stiff as he crossed his arms.

You set the package down on the table gently and slid a piece of folded paper next to it. “Take your time to think about it.” You offered as you pulled your hood up. You left the kitchens as quietly as you’d arrived, leaving him to brood in the silence left behind.

━ ⋅𖥔⋅ ━━✶━━ ⋅𖥔⋅ ━

“Here.” he sets the completed project on the table with the reluctance of a person who would rather be anywhere else but in the kitchens at that very moment. He folded his arms, pinning his hands to his chest, resisting the urge to snatch the plate and throw it in the trash, calling off the deal.

Beacrox had no expectations of being able to recreate a dish he had never heard of. Yet, from the moment he set the plate down, you stiffened in place, your pleasant smile melting away, replaced by shock.

“Well?”, You flinched as he prompted impatiently. You pulled the dish closer, your smile weak and crooked. 

“I was just a bit surprised that’s all..” your voice trailed off.

He filed your reactions away in the back of his mind.

Your grip was uncertain but eventually you picked a piece from the plate and placed it in your mouth.

You froze in place, and he immediately slid a cup of water and bowl over. 

But you surprised him when you kept it in and swallowed. “It…” He watched as your face straightened slowly, all visible emotions ironed away into one of careful neutrality. 

“..tastes nothing like it.” 

When vague subjective descriptions on a slim piece of paper were all that he had to work with, he’d expected this outcome. The bag of gold he had prepared in advance was tossed onto the table as he reached to retrieve the dish, only to be deterred when sharp pain sprang across the back of his hand. The surprise he felt from the fact he’d failed to catch your movements was swiftly replaced by irritation when he realised you’d slapped him. 

His eyes narrowed, “What are you-“

“I’m taking it.” you said and to his utter confusion, went on to shove another bite in your mouth.

“You just said-“

“I know what I said.” you huffed, “I never said the dish had to taste right did I? It’s a good first try-“ His eyebrows lifted as you suddenly lost the ability to maintain eye contact with him. “Anyways, I’ll be the judge of what’s accepted and I say this passes.”

You've always been an eccentric character, but just when he thought you couldn't faze him further, you managed to render him speechless yet again. Till now, he’s yet to figure out your intention behind your request, if taste was not a priority then what use was creating the dish you’re looking for? 

“Get out of my kitchen.”

“But I haven’t-“

“Out.”

━ ⋅𖥔⋅ ━━✶━━ ⋅𖥔⋅ ━

Of all the informants in the kingdom, none possessed skills that could surpass yours. It was why, despite the many headaches you induced, Beacrox had chosen to suffer your pestering for so long.

Not one of his sources has ever confirmed how you acquire your information or seen you in action. Yet the intelligence you provide, which has, at many times, sounded unbelievable, had been proven to be true time and time again. 

Perhaps the strangest thing of all was that, despite the ease with which you uncover others' secrets, the same couldn’t be said vice versa. Little to no information could be found regarding your background, whatever was found was obviously doctored, being far too mundane for someone of your skills. You were either incredibly thorough at covering your tracks or an experienced fraudster, and Beacrox was inclined on believing the latter.  

Your unpredictable behaviour made it hard to judge whether you’re an ally or foe, so it was only natural that he’d sought for leverage to hold against you in case there’ll be a day you’d decide to betray them and sell their secrets to their enemies. 

That was the only reason he would consider playing along with your games.

Though he knew not the significance of these dishes to you, he had hoped they would provide some insight on your background or places you’ve been to where other sources have failed to narrow down. 

But of course even the meals you’d request would be harder if not just as difficult to trace as well.

It was only a matter of time before you caught onto his intentions, after all, he’d never kept his investigations a secret. Yet instead of pulling back like he’d expected, you had become bolder in your requests, eyes sparkling with mischief as if you understood the frustration he was going through and still remain one infuriating step ahead of him at all times. 

He’d considered the possibility that you could be pulling his leg, but there was something about the nostalgia in your eyes as you taste each dish that made Beacrox believe in their authenticity. 

He glanced at a small box hidden by the side, within held a small but steadily growing pile of recipes of unknown origins. Not for the first time, Beacrox found himself questioning if all these peaceful days have turned him soft after all.

━ ⋅𖥔⋅ ━━✶━━ ⋅𖥔⋅ ━

A familiar, unwelcome figure was sitting in his fresh crate of produce.

A quick scan around the area confirmed that you were alone and he walked over to assess your state. A splatter trail led up to the crate you sat on and his brows furrowed in distaste. The darkness made it difficult to immediately see any obvious signs of injuries and when you made no reaction to his presence, he kicked the crate below you.

“Ow.” you stirred, complaining with a soft laugh. 

Conscious. 

“Why are you here?”

Your unannounced visit broke one of many unspoken rules governing their kind. As people maintaining a delicate facade, unexpected visits were not merely discouraged but deemed perilous. No one would fault him should he choose to silence you then and there - such was the severity of your faux pas - yet he stood, only mildly irritated, at the disruption you’ve brought to a peaceful night.

It took a moment longer than he liked before you gathered enough strength to speak. “Sorry,” you apologised and for once, actually sounding it. “I just need a little rest. I’ll be out of your hair soon.”

Your laboured breathing and unfocused gaze suggested otherwise and he folded his arms as the dreadful feeling of his plans for an early night slipped through his fingers like fine sand. 

“How bad is it?” 

Impatiently he waited for you to process his words, your sluggishness a strange contrast to your usually sharp wit and quick retorts. 

“It’s been treated.” 

The smell of blood was sharp and acrid, he would have to clean the stains soon if he wished to avoid its scent lingering in the area. “I will not ask again.” He warned.

You were exhausted, it could be seen from your posture and expression. Though he understood the instinct to hide one’s weakness, from the moment you chose to rest here it wasn’t a matter of ‘if’ the truth comes out but a matter of ‘when’ and Beacrox would preferred if it happened sooner rather than later.

Just as he was contemplating the benefits of leaving you to your fate, your lips loosened. “Stab wound on the left, missed vitals. I’ve been tended to but some of the stitches might have opened up.”

That would explain the bloody trail you left. He should count his blessings that it didn’t sound too bothersome, assuming you hadn't foolishly downplayed the severity of your injuries. Your arms came up defensively as he began moving towards you, eyes widening with surprise, “Wait-“

His arms slipped under and around and with barely a grunt of effort, he lifted you up. The sudden motion drew a muffled groan from you and he allowed you a brief moment to collect yourself before he began moving. From this position, he could acutely feel the heat radiating from your skin and the tremors that wracked your body. 

Your confusion and trepidation were clear and it was with some hesitation before you decided to open your mouth-

“Save your breath.” He advised and you obediently swallowed your words.

He moved you into the storage shed behind the kitchen. Though dark, he navigated through the small space easily, setting you on the surface of several boxes, he stepped back to note that you’ve lost consciousness. The walk hadn’t been far but you must have exhausted your reserves traveling here.

From the darkness he brought out a small knife and paused, looking at your face, sweat slicked yet slack from tension, having found an escape from the worries troubling you - however temporary. He recognised that this moment might be a rare opportunity to unveil the secrets you hide, yet as quick as the notion flitted through his mind, it was dismissed just as quickly. With methodical precision, he cut open the side of your shirt where red had stained through.

The wound was as you’d described, if not a bit irritated and swollen. Basic first aid had been applied, though the messy stitch work left much to be desired, it did its job in holding your injury closed. A few stitches had come loose and will need to be reworked but nothing that he’s not capable of handling even with his limited medical knowledge.

As his gaze roamed to your face checking, yes, you were still unconscious, he left and returned moments later with a candle, clean water, cloth and a clean shirt. 

A dusty shed and mere candlelight were far from an ideal setting to perform any kind of wound care, but he doubted you’d care at this point. Pristine, white gloves snapped on, he made short work of cleaning, restitching and bandaging your wound. 

He was about to tilt a bottle of potion into your lips when you mumbled. He paused, waiting to see if you were regaining consciousness. You mumbled again and he frowned. It took him few moments before he realised two things: you weren’t waking up anytime soon and the words you’re mumbling, weren’t in a language from Roan or even any of the neighbouring kingdoms. 

As a master assassin, he had learned many languages, so the fact that you spoke one that he couldn’t place piqued his interest. He watched your lips, intent on studying and memorising the unique intonations and pitch, however, it seems your instincts finally kicked in, and though still unconscious, you’d stopped mumbling. 

Even out cold, you’d find a way to be bothersome. There was nothing more he could do, he left the folded, clean shirt he brought along by your side and with one final glance at your still form, he closed the doors behind him and locked it.

━ ⋅𖥔⋅ ━━✶━━ ⋅𖥔⋅ ━

He returned the next morning to a broken lock and an empty shed. In place of where you’re supposed to be was instead a piece of paper and a bag of coins. 

“Thanks for last night. Sorry about your spuds, I’ve replaced them for you :)”

A glance to the side confirmed the presence of a fresh crate of potatoes and a slip of paper containing the description of a dish never heard of before in the kingdom.

And for the first time ever, a name to go alongside the unfamiliar dish.

━ ⋅𖥔⋅ ━━✶━━ ⋅𖥔⋅ ━

You never mentioned what happened that night and he didn’t pry. Still, something seemed to have shifted between the two of you.

He no longer chases you away the moment you appear, while you've learned to place yourself to avoiding getting in the way of his cooking. He pretends not to notice when you arrive with injuries and you feign surprise at finding mysterious salves appearing nearby. 

“Aw, did you miss my company?” you teased when you caught his gaze assessing you after dropping by from one of your longer absences.

Beacrox made no attempt to conceal the dry scowl on his face. “Like one misses a rat infestation.”

“Charming~” you beamed.

Some things, still don’t change no matter what. 

━ ⋅𖥔⋅ ━━✶━━ ⋅𖥔⋅ ━

In the end, it was the one question he couldn’t figure out. 

“Why me?”

The dishes you've shared are simple, you could've hired any other chef, given the same descriptions and they would’ve achieved similar results. But you chose to badger him, an unknown chef working for a humble count's family instead.

You paused in your devouring of yet another strange dish, blinking as if surprised that he would be the first to initiate conversation.

“Why Bea! You should have more confidence in yourself, you’re one of the best chefs in Roan!”

It was as obvious a deflection as he ever saw. His fingers tightened around his arms and he took a slow breath. So you’re going to be stubborn. Well, two can play that game. He tried another angle. 

The words tasted foreign on his tongue, but they were something that turned over and over in his mind since that night. He’d probably horribly butchered the pronunciation but it seemed the meaning was successfully relayed from the way your eyes widened and your pupils shook with recognition. 

The utensil held in your hand clattered to the table and Beacrox kept his eyes trained on you, taking in your paling face. When it didn't seem like you would offer an explanation, he continued.

“It’s what you kept repeating that night.“

A myriad of emotions crossed your face: shock, confusion, fear, and finally, resignation. 

In the silence, you slowly repeated those same words. Sharp, crisp and wholly foreign. 

"“Home,” your voice was soft, but it was the loudest thing in the kitchen. “‘I want to go home.’” you swallowed thickly, a wavering smile on your face. “that’s probably what I said.”

There was a lot to unpack from that revelation. 

He was suddenly reminded of how you’d react to the dishes each time, savouring each one, scouring the plates clean despite the differences in tastes. You ate not to fulfil the hunger of the body but to satisfy a craving of the mind. After receiving the recipe with a foreign name, it had confirmed one suspicion of his, that wherever these dishes came from, whether it was a place or a person that you're reminiscing about, they're likely no longer accessible.

You're reliving memories through dishes you barely remember. Chasing ghosts in your memories in search of some semblance of normalcy. 

Trust was a limited and rare currency in the underworld, hoarded jealously and coveted by many. You’d handed him the leash he’d sought since he agreed to your little game yet he felt gutted by the weight of the revelation, his shoulders burdened.

“Why me?” He repeated softly.

You watched him. “I don’t know.” Your voice sounded small and so tired. “I thought maybe, if it’s anyone, you’d probably understand.”

What does the concept of home and person mean when they no longer exist? Who are they but displaced people playing roles too big or small to hold their histories? Bearing memories of a place and person, but unable to find an equivalent?

It was a mistake. He shouldn’t have asked.

“But I wasn’t lying you know?” you added suddenly and he looked up in confusion, the smile you wore was weaker than usual but it was genuine. 

“You are one of the best chefs in all of Roan.” You declared in that same, familiar confidence which you use to share all those impossible, far-fetched sounding intel that always, turns out to be fact. 

For some inexplicable reason, it was that simple statement that dispersed the tempest building within.

Beacrox sighed, ran his hand through his hair, and exhaled through his nose.

And perhaps, there was a small, exasperated chuckle.

━ ⋅𖥔⋅ ━━✶━━ ⋅𖥔⋅ ━

“Bea please marry me.”

It wasn't often, but on rare occasions, he would nail the taste of a dish right.

He didn’t bother with a response but moved to refill your plate nonetheless.

━ ⋅𖥔⋅ ━━✶━━ ⋅𖥔⋅ ━

“Thank you.”

He paused while wiping the dishes. “For what?”

“Just,” Your gaze dropped to the plate before you as your fork tapped lightly against the edge. “Thank you for the food.”

Beacrox watched as you returned to eating, mind filled with memories of all the dishes he's made, of greatswords and bladed edges, and thought of what home and belonging is. 

We’re not so different. The idea of it wasn't as horrifying as he had thought. Once, perhaps he would’ve been unnerved by the sentimentality. There are still so many things that remain a secret when it comes to you, and yet, as you close your eyes to savor each bite, he feels as if he knows you better than most.

You ate in comfortable silence. He rolled his shoulders and allowed the tension in them to drop off. 

This might not be ‘home’ but for now, this moment was as good a resting place as any for people like them.

“You’re welcome.” he said softly. 

━ ⋅𖥔⋅ ━━✶━━ ⋅𖥔⋅ ━ 

BONUS:

Once again, it begins with a ridiculous request from you.

“Bea please, you have to prepare this for Choi Han. I’ll even sell you my kidneys, I really need to know his reaction.” 

What value would owning your kidneys have? That you’d blatantly suggest such things to an assassin like himself was laughable, stranger still was his playing the fool and following along anyways.

He didn't question how you knew about their mansion's new guest, though your sudden interest in the visitor when you’ve shown no such interest in past guests was worthy of note. Even he had unconsciously tensed when the young master had introduced him. Something about the newcomer didn’t seem right. They were strong, but their potential was untapped and raw, like an uncontrollable beast on the verge of lashing out at any moment.

The glimmer of something in your eyes further confirmed his suspicions. You knew something about this stranger though you refused to reveal more, only promising that he’s not a threat to him or Ron. 

He frowned at the pot of red he’s stirring, the pungent smell wafting through the room. Footsteps from the doorway had him looking up, but the person that crossed the threshold was not the person he’d expected. 

The young master stepped in with a cautious look in his eyes. 

“I thought I smelled..” brown eyes narrowed at the pot he held. “What’s that?”

Beacrox glanced down at the strange dish he was asked to prepare, wondering why of all people that could’ve come, it would be Cale Henituse. 

“A dish a friend taught me to make.” Then for some reason unbeknownst to him, he offered. “Would the young master like to try?”

Cale hesitated, but eventually slid himself onto a seat, choosing the one farthest away from him. At least the young master seemed sober. Beacrox felt no fondness for the young master he served, even if it was true that he had begun to change recently, raising even the interest of Ron. 

Spooning a small portion, he set the dish and utensils down before Cale, ignoring the young man’s flinch as he gauged Cale’s strange expressions. 

The young master stared at the dish as if it would leap up and attack him, his strange wariness reminded Beacrox of your reaction when he first presented that first unfamiliar dish to you. 

“.. there’s no way..” Cale muttered to himself as he poked and prodded until finally, he tried a bite. 

“What.. the hell?”

Beacrox had never seen the young master's eyes bug out like that, and he decided it was quite an entertaining sight, even if the dish’s original target wasn’t meant for the redhead. Still he stifled an irritated sigh as a thought crossed his mind when the young master exclaimed.

“How the hell did you learn to make kimchi?!”

“What the hell did you make me do this time _______?”

Notes: I've had lots of thoughts while writing this imagine turned fic. Nin-deer gave me a simple prompt of "cooking" and I went and turned it into lore- OTL even I don't understand the intricate workings of my brain. I've had to cut out some chapters details as it was growing out of hand so I hope everything's links together properly. I've reached that stage where I've reread a piece of writing so many times, nothing makes sense anymore. I've deliberately left the dishes 'cooked' vague so you're free to imagine whatever cuisine you'd like that Beacrox helped butcher 👍🏼

[superblysubpar]

hi! figured i’d send in a little prompt if that’s okay, hope your writer’s block gets a little better :))

82. “I’ve been so horny all day.” for Steve if that’s alright! (up to you whether he or reader is saying it teehee)

ty in advance and have a lovely day <3

my blog is 18+

“You’re doing it again.”

Steve’s huff of breath leaves his nose loudly, glancing out of the corner of your eye, you find him banging his forehead lightly against the door frame. He mumbles something that sounds like sorry and spins on his heels, his socked feet slipping on the hardwood floors as the blue shirt disappears around the corner. Your mouth twists as you do your best to ignore his ass in the tight green athletic shorts.  

His woodsy cologne lingers, just as it has all day upon every interruption, mixing with the candle you have lit that’s supposed to smell like rain and autumn leaves. Remnants of your grilled cheese Steve brought you hours ago crumble on a plate, your fingers reach for an open bag of Sour Patch Kids as you click and unclick your pen. Popping a green one in your mouth, your lips pucker as you hum around the tart candy, highlighting a quote. 

Tangerine squares paint the floor of your living room, slanting and elongating more and more as the sun shifts, you smile at another quote from the director, making a comment in your notebook as you sit up. Propped onto your knees now, you quietly sing along to Frank Sinatra as your fingers hover over the piles of papers littered around you, searching for one in particular to make another note on. 

Steve can’t fucking take this. 

He leans against the center island of the kitchen, watching as your nose wrinkles when you go back to reading. You tap the pen to your lips as they move, reading out loud to yourself as your eyebrows furrow together. You're lit up in oranges and golds, his shirt and a pair of biker shorts so how could anyone blame him when he returns to the living room after barely five minutes since you told him he was doing it again. 

This time, as he quietly enters, you don’t say anything, eyes bouncing between the book and where your pen moves rapidly across the lined paper. 

Steve’s presence is all consuming, especially when he sits on you. His legs straddle your hips, thumbs softly rubbing at your lower spine and your head falls forward in a moan and he bites the inside of his cheek behind you at the sound. Steve presses a little harder, massaging up your spine as you go back to reading. 

The vinyl record crackles, Steve’s humming mixing with the scratch of your pen. You reach your fingers over your shoulder, holding a blue candy up to him - his favorite and your least - as you start telling him all about something you’re excited for in class. You light up when you talk about your project, about future ones, about an interesting fact you just read and so really, truly, no one can blame him for what he does next. 

Steve’s lips brush behind your ear, his nose skimming down the curves of it as his hands grip at your hips. Your breathy gasp of air is the only encouragement he needs to take it further. He nips at the dip of your neck where it meets the collar of his shirt, mumbling into your skin, “You’re so hot, you’ve been driving me crazy. I’ve been so horny all day.”

Your laugh makes his lips twitch against your shoulder blade, he whines at your teasing and the layer of fabric between him and your skin, “Babe.”

“I’m sorry, Steve, I had no idea unwashed hair and studying did it for you.” You pop another candy in your mouth, trying your best to ignore the way he feels against your ass. 

He squeezes at your sides, fingers curling around your hip and he tugs lightly, huffing out of his nose again. “You’re so focused, and smart, and passionate, and you look so cute when you’re singing,” he kisses over and over, up and down your neck, smiling as you tuck your chin down and squirm underneath him, “And you did that little dance when I brought you food, and I heard you in here grumbling about too many blue ones too yourself and-”

“Well there are too many blue ones.” You frown, biting your lip as his fingers roam higher against your side, warm pads pressing lightly to your soft skin. 

Steve smiles and only hums in response, feeling how you circle your hips back against him. He’s not even sure you realize you did it and he knows you’re just as worked up as he is. Your yelp is cute when he smacks one of your ass cheeks, grabbing as much as he can as he groans in fake annoyance, “And then, you’re lying here all damn day, with this ass in the air. What’s a guy to do, huh?”

Your giggle cuts off as he ruts himself into you, hands sliding up and up and up until his weight is against your back. His fingers run down your arms, lacing with yours as he presses them down into the soft carpet. Steve rolls his hips, lips soft against your temple and then your cheek as your eyelashes flutter closed. 

“Hmm?” He hums into your jaw, “I asked you a question, pretty girl, gonna answer me?”

Steve’s breath is hot against your neck, one of his hands releases yours, traveling back down your body, skimming the band of your shorts and tugging, snapping it against your hip as he pushes himself into your ass harder. 

“St-Steve.” Your back arches as his name leaves you in a breath, your cheek presses to the carpet, exposing more of your neck for him to assault with this tongue and teeth. 

He nips at your ear, thick fingers pushing past the lace he finds as his hand curls around to your front. He chuckles into your hair as his fingers meet your slit, wet for him already. His tone condescending, “I don’t think that answered my question, what’s the matter babe? A little kissing and teasing and that big brain is already empty, yeah?”

Your clit throbs at his words, fingers curling and gripping for purchase in the threads of the carpet. The whine that leaves your lips is pathetic, rolling your hips back in search for more. 

His hand is gone faster than you can respond, both on your waist and flipping you before your eyes are blinking up at him dazed. Steve’s hands hold yours above your head, both of your chests heaving as he hovers over your lips. He ruts himself into you and you know that asshole isn’t wearing boxers. His length barely separated from where you both want it, twitches against you, felt through the thin layers. 

His mouth parts yours softly, tongue slipping over yours a little filthy. Rolls of hips and noses nudged into cheeks, he kisses you like he’s wanted to all day. He only pulls away when he needs air, smiling as you whine and loop your hands around his neck, lifting and following him. 

His hair falls over his forehead, the orange and pink sunset coming in cuts across his eyes making them golden, his cheeks a complimenting tint that grows darker as he takes in your face too. He lets his top lip skim your bottom one again in a soft and brief pass, hands squeezing at your waist. Who’s he kidding, teasing you and trying to be all suave - Steve doesn’t even remember his middle name with the way you’re looking at him. 

His breath falls against your lips as he pleads rather than commands. 

“Can I fuck you so good all the studying you did today was for nothing?”

[universallydestinytaco]

The Little Smiling Mermaid (Chapter 9)

Thank you for reading the first nine chapters of TLSM, unfortunately I have to put the fic is on hiatus until around October because I got lots of art projects to finish! PS. please follow one of my buddies @bluebellcup, it would make us smile!!

TW: Gender Dysphoria + Unintentional Misgendering

Graham Nelly was out scavenging for breakfast as part of his daily morning routine in his own unique Graham Nelly way: he used his "grappling hook" to harvest the sweet and aromatic tropical fruit the island bore, although it would take about seven times to succeed in getting at least two or three of each type he was craving at the moment. He accidentally grabbed a nest full of eggs and one angry mother parrot, who proceeded to give the hapless mer-hippy the ol' stare-down of doom. Graham gulped, bearing what one would call a shit-eating grin and sheepishly wave hello to shake off any negative vibe. This friendly greeting was only met with the mother furiously squawking in his face and ferociously chomping his hand. So much for a balanced breakfast! Once the panicking Graham Nelly finally got away from that one pissed-off mama, he spotted a very familiar group he knew all-too-well. Graham called out: "Well, look at what the catfish dragged in!". It didn't take too long for Graham to notice something was up with his littlest cousin. "Say, There's something different about you, Pim! New hairdo? I can see you've been using your dinglehopper!'" Pim shook his head for "No", Graham placed his hand on his stubble trying to figure it out. "New seashells?" Same response from Pim, who was humored by his cousin's morning absentminded-ness. Graham shrugged: "Well, I'm stumped." Alan snapped: "HE'S GOT LEGS, YOU IDIOT!" Graham was taken aback by the rarity of the lobster losing his cool. "He traded his voice to some crazy sea witch for a pair legs! UGH!" as Pim was trying out his new legs by getting up to stand for the very first time, his friends further conversed; Glep summed-up the catch of the deal: "Eskabezawabowakishymwah!" Alan admitted in anguish: "And he's only got three days. That big yellow guy barely even knows Pim! This is a catastrophe! Okay, maybe there's still time for me to get your voice back-" Alan's rant was cut off by Pim tripping on a pebble and falling back down with a dramatic splash, cascading water all over the lobster who took it as a sign to chill out. Alan then crawled into Pim's hand, looking up eye-to-eye with a plea to reason: "Look, if I can call off the deal, you don't have to return to the palace BUT it can just be us exploring what else the sea has to offer! You'll be...." Alan quickly noticed that Pim's eyes started to shimmer with leaking tears. "...just be miserable for the rest of your life." Defeated, Alan agreed: "All right, all right! I'll try to help you out best I can." Pim immediately smiled, kissing Alan on top of the head before letting him go free. "Ugh, what a soft-shell I turned out to be." Graham spoke up, giving some helpful advice to Pim: "Dude, I'm tellin' ya, if you wanna be a land critter, the first thing you gotta do is dress like one!"

~

Charlie, his crew, Mipnessa and Mr. Boss all embarked on the newly-prepared ship at noon for some sight-seeing, as Dj Spitz served the party a light brunch of egg sandwiches and chopped fruit per Mipnessa’s request. Of course Charlie was still having an internal conflict with himself over recent events, but eventually decided to turn his brain off to properly enjoy his meal. Mipnessa asked: “I beg pardon but isn’t this fruit supposed to be chopped?” Charlie grinned and assured: “Wait for it…” Dj Spitz grabbed two swords behind himself, tossed a pineapple in the air to where his blade caught up just in time for him to quickly dice it into chunks, landing perfectly on the plate to which the impressed group gave Dj Spitz a well-deserved round of applause. Tomar complimented: “Hot damn, Spitz, you sure know how to make a spectacle out of a meal!” Dj Spitz replied, “All in a day’s work, man!” As he wiped the juice off the blades before returning them to their scabbards. “I do say, Charles, your friends are all charmingly eccentric, no wonder you’re so lively.” said Mipnessa, to which Charlie replied: “What can I say? They’re the wind beneath my sails!" Smormu, realizing the egg in her sandwich was in dire need of some seasoning, asked: "Say Chris, may you please pass the salt?” to which Chris obliged: “Sure thing.” but while reaching for the salt, he accidentally knocked over Lyle’s coffee and spilled it on Mipnessa’s gown! Boy did he ever thank the heavens that it had already been cooled off by the cream. “Shit!” Chris spat out as Smormu and Charlie quickly grabbed some napkins to help Mipnessa clean up as a groggy, crusty-eyed Lyle muttered: “Damn it.” while picking his mug up for a refill. The embarrassed Chris apologized over and over until Mipnessa replied: “That’s okay, I find bumbling, awkward men to be more unique and endearing...that’s why I find Charlie to be my ideal husband!” Tomar chuckled: “Oh that Mip, she's a real kidder!” while nudging Charlie’s shoulder as the latter's face flushed red in embarrassment; Eager to change the subject, Charlie broke silence: “How about my ol’ pal Tomar plays us a tune?", rummaging around one of his pockets to dig out his ocarina and placing it in Tomar’s hand to hastily request in a whisper: “Play us a good ol’ fashioned sea shanty, for atmosphere.” Tomar sighed, knowing he kinda had that coming. “I’m no Nicholson but I know The Golden Vanity by heart.” Charlie held his hand out to Mipnessa, "May I have this dance?”

~

“You look sensational!” Graham Nelly complimented Pim on the makeshift dress they collaborated on, Pim finding an old discarded sail and Graham providing the needle and thread. Alan put his claw on his chin, suggesting: “It’s missing something…” just then Glep swam up and gave Pim a familiar trinket he salvaged from the grotto’s ruins: Pim’s flower barrette he stashed inside his favorite music box. Pim kissed Glep to say thanks before placing the barrette in his hair, using his reflection in the water as a mirror to make sure the look was perfect. “I bet that Prince dude's gonna feel his jaw drop the ground when he sees you all dolled up and stuff, let's swim over to- Oh, right, you have legs now so it'd be a bitch for you to swim...luckily I have just the thing for that! See that big ol' platform with the fiddle-sticks over there? All that came with the island, now the platform itself is a little bit wear-and-tear but it'll still keep you afloat!" Pim walked up to the raft and with some help, he started pushing it out to sea. Before Pim could embark, he had to give Graham a big ol' hug to show his appreciation. Graham returned the favor by ruffling Pim's head, responding: "Love you too, kiddo."

~

All while the usual high-seas hi-jinks played out in the background, Mr. Boss was looking out for any sign of trouble with a spy glass, although he wasn’t behind the wheel at the very moment since the ship was anchored, he was still startled from the previous outing at sea. Just then he spotted what appeared to be a stowaway perched on top of a rock surrounded in debris from what he deemed a shipwreck of sorts. Mr. Boss took pity as he pondered just how long they sat on that rock, so the old man quickly rushed over to the dinghy with some lifesavers handy, catching Charlie's attention, asking “Woah, Boss, where’s the fire?” as he followed Mr. Boss, who replied: “We have a stowaway in need of our help!” Charlie’s curiosity peaked, asking: “...Is it a girl?” Mr. Boss spat: “There’s no time for sophomoric questions, boy!” as he lowered the dinghy to carry out the mission. …

Pim felt like an idiot who didn't know how to paddle to save his life...then again, he never really had enough experience to steer a raft, especially considering merfolk obviously didn't need anything like rafts or boats anyways. Nevertheless, his heart fluttered as Charlie gently helped him up, calmly asking: “You okay?”. Mr. Boss fussed in sympathy: “What a trooper.” Charlie carried Pim bridal-style over to the dinghy where he laid the beautiful stranger to sit beside him as Mr. Boss rowed back to the vessel to raise the dinghy upwards. …

Mipnessa was harmonizing her lute with Tomar getting the hang of Charlie’s ocarina to the rest of the gang's clapping rhythm. That was, until everyone sans Mipnessa's attention immediately turned to Mr. Boss, Charlie and the beautiful stranger they rescued. Chris, Tomar, Lyle and Smormu all stood stupefied in awe at the newcomer as Mipnessa ran to Charlie to hug him and fuss over how she wondered where he was while he was gone...for about at least 10 minutes. A sly Chris remarked: “Hello nurse.” only for Mr. Boss to chide: "Ladies prefer a man who minds his manners, Chris." Smormu piped up: "Aw sweet, more girls to relate to and bond with! Everything's coming up Smormu!" Pim started to frown, the double-disappointment of repressing his own jealousy towards Mipnessa honing in on his man and being unable to clarify his true gender, but in a case of Morton's Fork, he'd still be hesitant to come out right away even if he did have his voice intact. His frown did turn into a smile once Smormu walked up to Pim to shake his hand. "The name's Smormu, what's yours?" while patiently waiting for a response, she took notice of Pim's barrette and let out a girlish squeal: "Oh my gosh, what a cute hair clip! Say, is that a golden pearl in the center?" Pim's face flushed, responding to the compliment with a curtsy. Mr. Boss chuckled at the demure stowaway. "While all be! She must have come from a wealthy family, perhaps even royalty." Mipnessa piped up: "Oh, how beautiful indeed! In fact, it reminds me of one of my own favorite pieces of finery!" Mipnessa quickly removed her shawl to reveal a gold-chain necklace whose focal point was a large creamy-white pearl embellished with diamonds, impressing everyone around her; even Pim excitedly shook his hands while thinking of a way to express a non-verbal compliment. Charlie knew this had to be the mystery critter, right? For a girl with the most beautiful voice, she was literally speechless. Perhaps she had laryngitis, or maybe she reserved her voice for certain times? Either way, Charlie was feeling even more conflicted with himself now that he really did have two potential brides to pick between: The proper lady he was arranged with, or the wild and elusive beauty he kept bumping into?