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maladaptivedaydreamers · 1 year ago

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Pent Up Marriage (Arranged Marriage! Ayato x Reader)

Synopsis: You desperately want to make this marriage work, and after he cheated on you multiple times, you made the numbing decision on how to save it. It works! However, you’re now like a puppet to your husband, growing numb and emotionless. Ayato, on the other hand, seems to enjoy it.

Direct Quote: “Yeah, so…whenever you need it, just…tell me, you know. It doesn’t matter if you’re mad or frustrated or just needy, if you need to exert some kind of stress, just let it out on me.” You say, looking at him in the eye. He stared at you, not knowing what to say, but…kinda turned on. “…"I'll keep that in mind, then. Just be prepared in case I get violent or something. I can be...brutal."

TW: Non-con, Dub-con, Harsh s3x, Abus3, Groping, Somno, Forceful, Manipulation, Cheating

After another stressful day at work, you come home feeling stressed and tired. Your husband, Ayato, seems to be having another “overtime” at his office. You clean up, tidy up the house, do the laundry, cook dinner. Eventually, Ayato comes home, disheveled and upset, as usual.

“Hey.” He uttered, removing his shoes as he entered the apartment.

“You’re home.” You said, walking up to him and placing a small kiss on his cheek. Part of the routine. As you did so, you see a small red mark on his collar, lip stick. “Take your shirt off.” You simply say, unbuttoning his shirt.

Ayato looked confused and irritated as he looked down at you. “What?”

“I said, take your shirt off. You don’t want it to stain, do you? Red pigment is hard to wash off if it dries.” You say, blankly. You’ve gotten used to his cheating ways, and all you wanted to do was adapt to it.

Ayato rolled his eyes before harshly unbuttoning his shirt, tossing it to you. “There, whatever.” He uttered before heading to the bathroom to shower.

As you tossed the shirt in the washing machine, you were thinking of a way to stop him from his affairs. After all, if his and your family were to find out that he was looking for another person to fulfill his desires, you’d be in big trouble.

Whatever, you still had some work to do anyway, you should just think about it another time. Focus on your laptop and let your husband do…whatever, I guess?

Soon, it was deep into the night and you decide to head into your shared room. Or you would consider to be just Ayato’s room.

Ayato's room was neat and tidy, with only a few books scattered on the floor with the covers facing up. His bed was made with sharp creases and the sheets were tucked firmly around a big pillow. Atop his desk was a large PC setup, the lights softly illuminated the room, and in the far corner, a door leads to another room in the house, the bathroom.

Ayato was already under the covers, his arms folded underneath his head and his eyes closed tight. He didn't turn to look at you and stayed silent, pretending to be asleep.

You were still restless, as you let out a yawn as you get into your side of the bed, sitting up and leaning against the headrest. You spend a few minutes looking over and reviewing some files. Ayato pretended to stay asleep, but one of his eyes peaked open as if curious about what you were doing. The faint glow of your phone screen caught his attention as he moved his head slowly, peeking just a little bit more. Why would you still be awake?

Soon, you fell asleep. You shouldn’t have forced yourself to stay up so late. That’s what Ayato thought, that you were always killing yourself by working too hard for a job that you cared too much about. Ayato sighed, getting out of bed. He walked over to you, picking up the documents before covering you with a blanket and laying them down on the small table next to your bed.

He leaned down to your ear and whispered, "Good night."

He turned off the lights, then headed back to his room to do the same. The two of you slept soundly at opposite ends of the house, not bothering each other for the rest of the night.

Not for long though…

Suddenly, your phone rang, your stupid boss again. It was 5am! Why would he be-

“Hello?” You answered, why did you answer? Your eyes were squinting from being suddenly woken up, “Sir, I got the files back earlier, I’ll deliver it when I get to work later. …No, I can’t deliver them now, I just got back home…Thank you, goodnight.” You sighed, knowing it will be another heavy day.

Ayato woke up with a start, but kept quiet, listening to your end of the phone call. He raised an eyebrow when he noticed you were up. He remained silent for a moment, but eventually spoke up.

"Bad news, huh? Can't sleep?" he asked, looking towards you in the dim light of the room.

You were startled, and also a little guilty. “Shit, did I wake you up?”

"Yes, but don't worry about it." Ayato sat up and put his feet down on the floor. As the two of you sat on opposite sides of the bed, he spoke again.

"Does your boss never let you rest? Or maybe you're just bad at your job." He chuckled slightly, and you noticed a slight annoyance in his tone.

You hum a simple, “Mhmm.” as you rest your head onto your pillow.

"You were out all night and now your boss wants you to go to work? Is this the life of my wife? To be some company's dog you can just go around and do your boss's dirty work?" Ayato smirked and leaned back on his elbows, amused by his own sarcastic comment.

You didn’t know what to say, frankly, your mouth just spoke whatever your mind processed first. “…Oh..have I been neglecting you?”

Ayato let out a sigh and rolled his eyes, seeming a little irritated by your comment.

"We're in this marriage just because our parents wanted us to. We're not in love," he said, speaking bluntly.

"So it really doesn't matter if we neglect each other or not. Besides, this is a loveless marriage, and neither of us loves the other. That means we have no obligations to each other."

You nod. “…Do you feel neglected? Which…makes you cheat?”

He seemed to be annoyed, which caused him to ramble on and on. "Do I feel neglected? Pssh!" He paused for a moment before continuing. "You know what? Not really. I don't rely on you to fulfill my needs."

"And you're right, I have been seeing other people, but don't mistake them for being my lovers!”

You sighed, seeing he wasn’t answering the question. “So…are you? No judgement, really. It’s okay to admit that you’re…you know…needy.”

Ayato's eyes widened for a moment before he stared at you in shock.

"Needy? What are you getting at?" he asked, trying to hide his annoyance. "I guess so.... Yeah, I am. What now?"

“It’s just an observation, you know. You’ve been kissing me on the cheek, waiting for me to get home. It’s unusual for you to do that….” You say.

"Don't get the wrong idea," he scoffed, his voice becoming louder as he raised an eyebrow. "Just because it's an unusual night, does not mean I care for you." He hissed the words with such intensity. "It's just that...I felt like it, that's all. Get that into your head." He sighed again. His annoyance was starting to fade into a sadness, but his attitude remained rough and cold.

“…Thank you for telling me.” You sighed.

You thought for a minute…

He was needy… So he had affairs… Ah…now you know what to do.

“Hey…Ayato.” You sat up, meeting him eye to eye.

Ayato turned to look at you, his eyes still filled with annoyance and disappointment. "What do you want now? What else is there to talk about?”

You thought for a moment before saying, “You can always let your frustration out on me, you know?”

Ayato's face tightened. He looked as if he wanted to strangle you in a moment of rage. "You want me to let my frustration out on you? Just because we're in a loveless marriage, which makes you think that I get the right to abuse you?"

“Eh?” You look at him. “You don’t have to abuse me, you can just…release pent-up frustration.”

Ayato paused for a moment and lowered his voice, staring at you with slight confusion.

"You want me to hit you, or something?" Ayato scoffed, amused yet slightly confused at your suggestion.

“No..something like this.” You muttered before leaning in…

…and kissing him.

Ayato looked surprised as your lips touched his. For a second, he was caught off guard, but his lips soon parted, and he kissed you back passionately.

The taste of you was familiar, as one hand reached down as he kissed you, caressing your cheek, brushing your hair behind your ear; his other hand placed gently against your shoulder. He broke the kiss and sighed softly, looking down at you, his cheeks flushed.

“See? …Just like that.” You said, staring up at him blankly.

Ayato chuckled softly. "You really had me going for a second." He smirked and looked at you, shaking his head.

"Thanks." Ayato seemed to have calmed down, but he still looked tense and stiff, as he sighed again. "You were right. I may hate it, but I am needy. And you're the only person I can go to for it."

“Yeah, so…whenever you need it, just…tell me, you know. It doesn’t matter if you’re mad or frustrated or just needy, if you need to exert some kind of stress, just let it out on me.” You say, looking at him in the eye.

He stared at you, not knowing what to say, but…kinda turned on. “…"I'll keep that in mind, then. Just be prepared in case I get violent or something. I can be...brutal."

The next day, you get home from another hard day of work, working a little later than usual. You opened the door to your house and sighed. It seems that the day was longer than you thought. As you locked the door behind you, you realized that it had become much darker outside. A cold breeze came through your open jacket, and your arms quickly began to get goosebumps.

You quickly turn around. Ayato was standing there, right in behind you, with a deadpan expression on his face. His arms remained crossed the whole time, and you noticed a slight anger in his eyes.

He cleared his throat and stared at you directly, his tone still dry and annoyed. He took a deep breath and sighed.

"You're late." he said bluntly. "I've waited for you for hours, and yet you're...late. Did I give you permission to get home late?

You sighed, “Sorry, they made me do overtime.”

Ayato continued to look at you with a slightly annoyed look on his face. "I hope they gave you some decent compensation for making you work late."

He paused, "You'd better make up for that by coming right here and serving me the second you get home, you hear me?"

He raised his voice as he stepped closer to you.

"Do you understand, dear?" he muttered in a dry tone before looking away.

“Oh, I see what’s happening here.” you muttered before you leaned in and kissed him, placing your hand at the back of his neck.

He soon returned it. He placed a hand on the back of your neck as well, pulling you closer to him and gently guiding your body to the wall as you kissed. After a moment, he pulled back and looked at you, and you noticed his voice was softer than before.

"Good girl."

“You seemed to be frustrated… Bad day at work?” you said, looking up at him.

"You could say that..." The corners of his mouth turned up slightly into a dark smirk.

"So, why don't you go make me feel a little better?" This time, the sinister look was back on his face, and a twinkle of anger and resentment shone in his eyes. "I'm sure you can make up for being late and leaving me all by myself, can't you?"

You knew what you had to do, you leaned in to kiss him again, and he let you. Ayato soon grabbed you by the waist and led you to their bedroom, locking the door after he pushed you into it. Ayato smiled as his lips parted to break the kiss.

"You're good at making a man happy, you know? Keep up the good work." He chuckled darkly, as his gaze lingered on you for a moment.

“I promised you, didn’t I? You can take out your frustrations out on me.” You panted, out of breath from the kiss.

He smirked and nodded. He looked at you in a way that conveyed his expectations. As he stared at you, you could feel his impatience, and his desire for control. "You know what to do after that." Ayato watched you as you took off your blouse. He soon reached out and started caressing your chest, his fingers running across your skin as he closed his eyes and breathed in deeply.

His tone and expression were still serious and cold, but you noticed the slight signs of pleasure written on his face.

"More...I still don't feel satisfied."

You unzipped your bottoms as he continued to watch you. As your skirt fell to the floor, Ayato's eyes widened slightly and he smiled.

"Good girl." All of the anger was gone from his tone and voice, and you could hear a twinkle of desire in his voice. "That's a good girl."

You slowly sat down on the bed, and Ayato took a moment to look you up and down. His voice was now a little softer, and he smiled at you. His eyes were glued to your underwear and black tights, and you could already feel his desire growing. He soon stood up, and looked directly at you. He slowly pulled off his suit jacket, his eyes still focused on you all the while. "Now, then...why don't you get comfortable for me?"

He could only smile as you layed down on the bed. He slowly started walking towards you, taking off his belt and tossing it to the side. His dark gray dress pants were soon following it, as a mischievous look crossed his face. He climbed on top of you, his body covering yours, as you felt him place his hands on your waist. He sighed and slowly got comfortable, leaning down towards you. You could feel him start pulling off your tights, and his eyes became fixed on your skin. Ayato sighed, and a smile crossed his lips as he reached out and placed a soft kiss on your inner thigh. His hand slid back and forth across your skin, and you could feel his breath coming in slow, shallow breaths. He chuckled darkly as he looked up at you, and spoke in a low, dark voice.

“Such…a good girl…”

He began to kiss you again, as he trailed from your lips, to your neck, to your breasts. “Last time we did this…I don’t even remember.” He chuckled, pushing his band underneath you to get to your back. And in one swift motion, unclasped your bra. He tossed it somewhere in the room before continuing to kiss your chest, massaging the other with his hand.

“A-Ah..” You let out from the sudden feeling.

His hands trailed down to the waistband of your panties before pulling them down. “Spread them for me, hm?” He grinned as you did as you were told. “Good girl…good wife.” He said before slowly pressing a finger onto your hole causing you to whimper a little. This only made him chuckle as he pushed a finger in, slowly pumping it. “That’s it.” He said, kissing you to muffle your voice.

One finger became two…then became three as your whimpers turned into moans. “Shhh, calm down, hun.” he laughed. “That should stretch you out enough. Feel good?” He looked down at you, but you were unable to answer, still panting.

“Well, I’ll assume, okay? Now..make me feel good.” He asked, leaning back to show you his bulge. His cheeks were red as he still had that grin on his face. You nodded as you unzipped his pants, causing his dick to spring up. “Miss this?” Ayato chuckled, tapping his dick on your lips. “Go on then.”

You opened your mouth, slowly taking him in your mouth. God, you forgot how big he was. It has been a while, for sure. You take him in slowly, finally taking him in fully.

“Yes~ So…good. This is nice.” he said, letting out a sigh. You slowly bopped your head back and forth as he let out a few satisfied moans. As you kept going, you suddenly felt his hands push your head deeper.

“Mmhph?!” You gagged, but it was no use as he continued to thrust into your mouth.

He moaned happily, “Ah, shit~ That’s right~ I forgot how good your fucking throat is.” he moaned.

You felt him coming close as you felt him twitch inside your mouth. He pulled out, panting. “That’s…that’s a good girl.” He said, slapping you on the cheek softly as you coughed and breathed for air. He pushed you onto the bed, pulling you into another aggressive kiss and he trailed his hands on your hips. Ayato pushed himself in the middle of your legs and without hesitation, starting aligning his dick to your hole.

“Ah, shit!” he hissed as he had troubles pushing his tip inside you. He let out a few cursed laughs before saying, “You know, I really thought you were cheating on me too, just to get back at me. Ah!~ But…you’re so tight…fuck! It’s…a shame you’re not using this.” he mocked you, as he pushed in deeper.

“A-Ah! W-Wait!” You said, gripping his shoulders as he pushed deeper in you, your back arched as a few more inches entered you.

He bottoms out on you as he let out a moan. “Ah!~” he grinned in satisfaction, his dick resting inside your tight pussy. “Shit, you’re good.” he uttered as he started thrusting in and out of you, not giving you time to adjust.

“Fuck, you’re good, such a good wife.” He moaned, spreading your legs apart even further. He continued pounding into you, your whimpers turning into teary moans as he kept going. “Tsk, tsk. Don’t cry now. If it makes you feel better…you feel better than those bitches I cheat on you with. Hm? Feel better?” He sounded like he was mocking you, insulting you or something. But either way, you continued to moan as your legs went limp. He placed one of your legs on his shoulder, thrusting in deeper into your tight cunt.

Your body felt hot as you trembled underneath him. You were wondering whether or not this was the right decision or not. A mixture of pleasure and pain ran across your body, but soon, a knot was filling your stomach. God, it’s been ages since you last felt something like this. Moan after moan after moan, you couldn’t stop as your hands gripped the sheets. You couldn’t even make out words when the knot in your stomach unwinded, releasing an orgasm which made you arch your back and cried out.

“Oooh~ Shit, was that an orgasm? You’re so…weak..! It’s been what? 5 minutes? Feels so good, huh? Wanna tell your husband how good he is? Hm?” He laughed as he continued to pound into you.

He watched your breasts bounce as he pushed his cock in and out of you like an animal in heat, he wasn’t stopping. “Damnit.” He uttered out as the grip on your leg and waist tightened, he was getting close too. …And so were you.

“Fuck, fuck.” He uttered, his fingers digging into your skin. He leaned down as he sucked on your neck, leaving a few marks. His lips trailed back onto yours as your tongues danced.

You let out a cry of pleasure as another coil unraveled inside you. And this… this pushed him to the edge as he thrusted one final and harsh thrust, painting your insides white. “Ah, fuck!” He growled, spasming a few thrusts to ensure he’s in you.

You pant, seeing your surroundings close in on you as you feel exhausted. Your limbs go limp and your chest rise and fall.

Ayato looks down at you blankly…staring at you as you’re covered in sweat. Your legs drop and fall flat. But after a few seconds, he puts them back on his shoulder. “No, no, no… we’re not done. No.” He shakes his head. He no longer had a grin on his face.

It was just filled with cold-hearted desire.

And after 4 rounds, he pulled out of you, his cum bursting out as soon as he did, dribbling on the sheets.

Ayato was breathing heavily, his heavy breaths coming and going in fast, shallow breaths. He took a moment to catch his breath, smiling as he looked down at you.

You were laid down on his bed, tired and exhausted from what had just happened, and you noticed Ayato's eyes staring down at you in satisfaction.

"You...didn't disappoint," He smirked.

"I hope you'll be more ready next time." He paused for a moment as he rolled his shoulders. "Now, why don't you get some sleep?"

You mumbled a small “Okay…” as your eyes were already shutting.

Ayato's eyes lingered on you for a moment, before he got up and went into the bathroom. After a few minutes, he came out, cleaned and dressed up. He slowly walked closer to you, and sat on the side of the bed.

He stared at you for a moment, and smiled softly.

"You're really are tired. You were a good girl tonight, you know." He sighed as he leaned over you, and kissed your forehead. "Try to get some rest, alright?"

This continued on and on and on and on, no matter if it was on your way to work or when you’ve just come back. It was like routine already. If you noticed Ayato was cranky, you’d be making out in no less than a few seconds.

One day, Ayato returned at 10pm, looking tired as he dropped his briefcase on the floor. He was still dressed in his work clothes, and the look of disdain on his face had grown even stronger.

He was exhausted and tired, and the light in his eyes was almost gone. He sighed quietly as he walked to the kitchen and started rummaging through the cabinets for a drink. He looked over at you, and his lip curled up in contempt.

"What do you want? I'm not in the mood to talk." His tone was cold and dismissive.

“You okay?” you ask from the living room.

Ayato turned around and stared at you, his gaze still filled with disdain.

"I'm fine. I just had a fantastic day at work." He took out a bottle of vodka and opened it, pouring himself a cup. He sighed as he poured himself a glass, and then drank the entire glass in one go.

"Why do you care, anyway?" He turned around and leaned against the counter, his tone growing even more cold. "Do you really care about how I feel?"

You pause, thinking of the right thing to say. “…Depends if you want me to care.”

"I'm your husband."

His tone was stern and slightly aggressive, and he soon set his empty glass aside.

"You should always care about how I feel. After all, you're my wife." He sighed, and a hint of anger could be sensed in his voice. "If you're not going to care, then maybe you should just leave."

“…You okay? Seriously, you can tell me.” You look over at him, lightly concerned.

"I'm fine..." A sigh of disappointment escaped his lips as he reached out for the bottle of vodka and refilled the cup.

"Just let me drink in peace. I don't want to talk about it." His tone was still stern and serious, as it had been in the morning. He had just had an awful day, and he wanted to spend the rest of the day drinking to make himself feel better. He was just hoping that you wouldn't keep pestering him as he continued drinking his vodka in silence.

You let out a sigh before walking up to him, taking the cup away. “That’s enough.”

"Hey! Give it back to me." You could see the light of anger in his eyes as he looked down at you, his lip curling up in a snarl as he glared at you. "I said, give it back to me." He glared down at you, as he reached a hand out and started trying to grab the cup from you.

You sigh as he leans in to take the cup back, so you lean in close…kissing him.

When you leaned in to kiss him, the light of anger in his eyes changed to a light of passion.

He couldn't help but let out a moan as his lips met yours, and he pressed himself against you. He pulled his hand back from trying to grab the drink.

"Good girl."

He pulled away from the kiss and smiled softly, as he brushed a strand of your hair aside.

Ayato smirked at you, as you could see the light of amusement in his eyes once more.

"Good girl. This is what I've been waiting for all day," he chuckled.

As he spoke, he went in for another kiss, much deeper than the first one and with far more passion.

Do you see what I mean? This was everyday with him. And it was…all your fault. You suggested this, and he just took the chance. It didn’t matter where either. The kitchen, the couch, the bathroom, the car. You would always comply. Even if you said…

“Ayato, not today…”

“Ayato, I’m tired…can we not do it today?”

“Ayato…please don’t?”

It would always end in you and him fucking ‘til his heart’s content.

But you were successful though, in making him NOT cheat. He always came home early, looking for you instead of some other girl. That’s a good thing…right?

But don’t worry! He would reward you. Every time you two are done, he would lay beside you, propping himself using his elbow and whisper…

“What would you like for your reward? Anything in the world…”

“You want a diamond necklace?”

“Does my good girl want a new car? New shoes?”

“I’ll get you whatever you want.”

That’s a good thing, right? He’s…being nice? He’s spoiling you, like a husband would.

But deep down, you were getting tired. Not of him, but of…this. Not mentally, but physically. Because soon…

…You can’t sleep.

Why can’t you sleep? You close your eyes and see nothing, you can’t feel anything. You wanna sleep. But you can’t. Why can’t you sleep? Why can’t you sleep? Why can’t you sleep? Why can’t you sleep? Why can’t you sleep?

One day, you come home from work, exhausted and a little emotional, cause your boss is a bitch. Ayato was on the sofa in the living room, reading another newspaper. He looked up as you came through the door.

"Are you home early today, my love?" He smiled, still showing no true warmth or affection in his tone. “Is something the matter? You seem quite tired..."

He chuckled, before speaking again. "Ah, who am I kidding? You always seem tired...You just can't get enough sleep, can you?"

You stay silent for a moment before walking up to him…

And hugging him?

"Huh?" He was shocked by the sudden hug. "Is something the matter? Why did you hug me so suddenly?" His voice was calm, but there was still an air of resentment and malice. He was clearly not in the mood to care about you. He sighed, but continued to show an indifferent or annoyed look.

"I mean, it's a good surprise I guess, but it's not normal for you to show affection, so I'm a little surprised..."

“Please…be quiet. I just…need someone right now.” You uttered, as you stared into the floor.

"Hmph..Fine..." His voice was quiet, but it still carried a dark undertone to it that made it obvious he wasn't happy.

He sighed, before looking down at you and speaking once more. "Just so you know, it's not like I'm enjoying this. I'm just doing it because you've had a rough day, that's all. Do not get this mistaken for affection, Y/N."

He looked at you, his expression remaining cold and indifferent. "Is that clear?" In which you simply replied with a nod.

"Well, at least you understand..." He put his arms around you, and rested his head on yours. Despite the tone of his voice and the expressions he made, you could tell he was trying his best to be comforting...although he didn't seem to have much experience with this.

After a stressful day, a few tears dripped off your eyes as you rested against him. He noticed you crying, and sighed.

"Hm...are you okay?" His voice didn't sound like it normally did, but instead of being cold or sarcastic, it was a bit warmer than usual. "You seem a bit upset..."

He paused, before speaking again as he pulled your chin up a little. "My goodness, you look so miserable...You've really had a bad day, haven't you?"

You straightened yourself up, brushing off the tears before standing up. “I’ll head to bed now…goodnight.”

“Hey- Wha-“ He looked confused as he watched you walk to your shared room.

"Alright, then..." His voice was a lot softer than it normally was, and he gave you a small smile. "Goodnight, my love." He looked down a little, and you could see a hint of affection and kindness in his eyes now, but just for a moment.

Then it was gone, and he was once again a cold, reserved man, as he always had been.

So…what were you doing in your room? Why were you feeling so…weird? Like some sort of embarrassment and guilt?

…Is it because you bought those sleeping pills? The one you knew would slowly turn you into a drug-filled monster? Is it the way you’re popping 3 pills all at once? …Is that it? The pills kicked in fairly quickly, and you slowly started to fall asleep. It wasn't long before you became unconscious, feeling the effects of the sleeping pills. If you kept taking them at the same rate, you would soon be addicted to the pills, and it wouldn't be long before you couldn't sleep without them...

Soon, Ayato went inside the room, also wanting to sleep. He sees you on the bed, it was a little weird to see you sleeping so early since for the past few weeks, you’d struggle to fall asleep.

He shrugged, and sat down on his side of the bed. Looking over at you, he noticed that you was sleeping very deeply - more deeply than normal, and it wasn't hard to tell why.

He rolled over, got comfy, and lied down. He closed his eyes, and soon enough, he also fell into a deep sleep.

The same routine of fucking and swallowing sleeping pills made you different. Too different. You turned emotionless and cold. You were…not Y/N anymore.

One day, after another stuffy fucking, you both were laying in bed. Ayato sighed. "Well, it's been a long day, hasn't it? I need sleep. I don't suppose we should stay up too long tonight." His voice sounded a bit softer than before.

"Goodnight...my dear wife..." He put one of his arms around you, and hugged you tightly.

"I may not show it much, but I do care about you. You know that, don't you?" He paused, waiting for a response.

You stared into the ceiling, exhausted but restless. “…Sure.”

"Sure" He scoffed, clearly not buying it at all. His voice was colder than ever, and it was hard to recognize this as the same person who had just comforted you. "Sure."

He hugged you tightly, and lay his head down on the pillow. He took the blanket, and covered up both of you, before going to sleep once more. You could feel that he had grown colder and more distant than ever before - like he hadn't wanted you near him at all. He had grown colder and more aloof than ever before.

Ayato was sleeping deeply right beside you. He seemed to be peaceful, but despite what he said earlier, it was hard to tell whether he truly cared about you. He laid there next to you, breathing quietly, completely asleep.

Was he telling the truth, or was he lying?

Did he care about you, or did he hate having you near him?

You couldn't tell anymore at this point. And you didn’t care. You needed something else.

Pills. Pills. Pills. Pills. Pills. Pills. Pills. Pills. Pills. Pills. Pills. Pills. Pills. Pills. Pills. Pills. Pills. Pills. Pills. Pills. Pills. Pills. Pills. Pills. Pills. Pills. Pills. Pills. Pills. Pills. Pills. Pills. Pills. Pills. Pills. Pills. Pills. Pills. Pills. Pills. Pills. Pills. Pills. Pills. Pills. Pills. Pills. Pills.

Shit, you needed those pills.

You harshly stood up from the bed, not caring if you woke him up or not. You walk to the bedside table, where you took out the bottle of sleeping pills.

"What are you doing?"

Ayato seemed to notice you standing up, and he sat up in the bed. With a groan, he looked up at the clock, before looking back at you.

"Is something the matter, wife?"

He still wasn't showing any signs of affection, but his voice was a little softer now, and his attitude was a little less antagonistic.

“Nothing.” you said, holding the bottle behind you.

"Nothing?" Ayato frowned, and sat up in the bed fully. He looked over at you, raising an eyebrow. He was still wondering what you were doing, looking at you with a slight hint of suspicion.

"Sure," he said with a cold voice, and you could see a smirk on his face now. "You're lying about something. Tell me what the deal is." His tone became cold once more, and you could see that he was beginning to get annoyed.

“Show me the bottle.”

You froze. “What bottle?”

"What bottle?" He narrowed his eyes again, glaring at you. You could feel his anger and irritation building up. He had always been calm and cold, but this was the first time you had seen him genuinely angry. Even before, when he yelled at you, he still sounded calm and unemotional.

"Are you lying to me now? That bottle that you're clearly trying to hide behind your back...show it to me.”

“It’s not a big deal.” You shook your head.

"It isn't a big deal?" He frowned, and sounded a little pissed off.

"Well then, there isn't any reason not to show me, is there? He narrowed his eyes again.

"Show. Me. The. Bottle."

You realized that he wasn't really kidding anymore. If you still didn't show him, he might get even more pissed off. He had always been cold and unemotional, but now, you could really sense his anger.

"Are you seriously not going to show me?"

He stood up, and walked toward you as he reached out, and yanked the bottle from your hands.

"Was that so hard?

He looked at the bottle, and then gave you another angry look.

"I thought it wasn't a big deal? Since when have you been taking sleeping pills, Y/N?!”

“…3 months.”

He scoffed, angry and in disbelief. “How many? How many fucking pills do you take a day?”

You look up at him, before you roll your eyes. “3 before but now I take double.”

"You've been taking double the amount of pills lately?! Why are you doubling the amount?” He gripped the bottle angrily.

Why was he so upset anyway?

"Let me guess… 3pills wasn't enough, eh? And did you ever think that taking that many pills might not be beneficial in the long term?" He raised an eyebrow, and he was still watching you intently.

"I thought there wasn't any need for such drastic measures... But then again, you always enjoyed being dramatic when it came to things like these…”

“Stop it, it’s not like I’ll be addicted to them.” You say, scratching your head in irritation. “I can’t sleep, I need them.”

"Is that really the only reason why?" He sighed loudly, and then smiled darkly.

"You already know what I suspect. The real reason is because you enjoy that little feeling of high that those pills give you, isn't it? You love that little rush of euphoria.”

You laughed, having had enough of his bullshit. “I wish I could get high off of them. I wish I could feel a little bit happier taking them. But noooooo! I just fucking need them so I can have some shut eye before getting back to work!” You had snapped, just wanting to take the pills.

You snatch back the bottle, much to the dismay of Ayato. "Give. The bottle. Back." He said, reaching his hand out.

You really should have known better. You felt a harsh smack to your face. Your hand grasped your now red cheek. “What the hell, Ayato?!” You yelled.

"You deserved that. Don't think you could get away with harming yourself, while also refusing to let me help.”

His hands were shaking with rage. "Give me the pills."

Instead, you ripped the bottle open, popping a few pills in your mouth. You didn’t care anymore… You wanted sleep.

“Y/N! What the fuck!” He yelled, taking the bottle from you and throwing it on the floor. But it was too late, the pills were so strong that you were already seeing the world as a blur.

"You really don't care, do you? About yourself and your well being?" He sighed, and then gave up talking to you. He looked at you with the same angry and frustrated look, before he looked you up and down. "And of course you'd already be starting to feel the effects of that many pills so quickly."

Now, he was just talking to the oblivion. You plopped yourself in bed as you stared at the ceiling. "You really don't care, do you?"

He stared at you in annoyance. "If you died right now, then I doubt you'd even be sad...” He stopped, before standing next to you and looking at you with a more angry expression.

"Why do you just give up on yourself like that...just...why?"

“Because …I’m stupid…and pathetic.” You muttered, laying down on the bed as your eyesight turned foggy.

"No you're not. And I hate it when you say that about yourself." He was still looking at you as he sat down beside you.

"You know what it's called when you keep self-destructive thoughts like that? Self loathing, I do believe...and it's sad to see that you've come to this point. To think that you've given up like this..."

He was getting sick of saying the same things, anyways.

"You're hopeless...that's why I hate this side of you. And it's why I'm so mad at you all the time. I'm tired of your self-destructive behavior, and I'm also tired of this endless cycle that we're in. But I don't want to give up on you because I love you dearly... But I don’t wanna love a bitch who doesn’t even love herself.”

He sighed. "That's what makes this so hard..."

“Heh, maybe I am getting a high from those pills. I can hear you say bullshit.” you uttered, wondering if you were hearing things right.

"Ha...ha...you're not funny.”

He sounded annoyed. He really wanted you to take this more seriously. He didn't know what to do with you anymore...

That was when Ayato suddenly remembered something. Something that he could potentially use to convince you to lay off the sleeping pills.

"Or...there's another solution that we could use, if you really think that you need those sleeping pills to survive the night..."

You looked over at him for a moment…oh wait…oooohhh that’s what he meant. “Oh god, not this again, are you pent up or something?” You groaned.

When he heard that, he didn't know whether to feel amused or annoyed.

"You really think that I'm that desperate..."

He sighed, and sighed again. "I'm trying to help you here, Y/N.”

He looked at you, seemingly amused now - but he wasn't going to give up that easily.

"I guess you want to make this hard, don't you? ...and I thought you're the obedient wife who always follows her husband's orders..."

“I’m about to fall asleep so…if you wanna do *it* with your *sleeping* wife, then be my guest.” You scoffed.

Your eyes fluttered, and then they closed. You were completely unconscious now. Ayato watched you for a moment, and he seemed happy.

His lips curved up into a smile, and he gave you a sly wink.

"I'll make sure to enjoy this." He grinned…

He loomed over your sleeping body as his thoughts began to run wild. His fingers were fidgeting as he reached for the hem of your shirt. He didn’t hesitate but pull off of you.

The sight of you so vulnerable really turned him on. He leaned down, kissing and marking your neck with dark hickeys as he grinded his already hardening bulge on you. Why was he liking this? Doesn’t matter, he was too deep into it already.

He continued to grind into you, he didn’t need to pin you down but he still did, pushing your hands into the bed.

His desires soon took over him, ripping up your panties to expose your cunt. He was hungry, more than ever. He knew there was no way he you were going to wake up anyway, he could do anything.

As he continued kissing down your neck to your chest, suckling on one of your breasts, his hand were now wandering. His cock ached in against the fabric of his pants as he stroked his finger in your folds. Oh…? Y/N…you’re wet. This seemed to entice him, as he kissed lower and lower, until he reached…ah, there.

He licked his lips as his breath approached your pussy, he licked a stripe before coming down. Kissing, sucking, licking in between your folds. He was getting greedy and hungry for you. He pulled you by the legs as he continued to eat you out, resting your thighs on his shoulder. Once he was satisfied, he pulled away from you, a thread of saliva still connecting you before he licked his lips, dropping your legs back onto the bed.

Fuck, why was this turning him on so bad?

He was adoring the sight of you, running his hands all over your body. He pulled down his sweats as his cock sprung out, already leaking with precum. He used his knees to spread your legs open, excited and full of desire. Ayato continued to stare at your face as he spread your legs open with his knees, stroking his cock as he did so. He positioned himself perfectly before burying himself completely inside of you, letting out a moan at how tight you were. He stayed motionless first, giving you a few slaps on the face to make sure you were still asleep.

His pace started off slow, trying to indulge in the power he was feeling. But it was soon replaced by desire as he quickened his pace, the sheets rustling and the bed creaking.

“Ah, fuck, so good. Such a fucking bitch.” He moaned out, pushing your legs to your chest.

“Shit, shit, ah!~ Yes!~” His eyes rolling back in pleasure as he took advantage of your sleeping body. He should be guilty…but he wasn’t. He felt a knot forming on his abdomen as he continued to plow into you.

“Y/N..Oh, fuck, Y/N!~” He moaned out as he came undone inside of you, his hips jerking back and forth.

He took a few breaths, trying to breath in some air, but he soon flipped you over, slapping your ass even though he knew, he wasn’t gonna get a reaction from you.

He pushed your head onto the pillow as he helped prop you on your knees, positioning himself again to push into you.

“Agh…!~ Fuck!” He groaned in pleasure as he pushed his entire cock into you again. He begins to speed up, not wasting anytime as he pounded into you, holding you by your hips. “Mhmm, so good. You wanted this…you wanted this…”

He bucks his hips into you as he cums once again, his essence spilling out of you as a white ring forms around the base of his cock.

As he pulls out, your cunt dribbles out his seed, which entices him even more.

He feels himself getting hard again as he gets ready for another round.

Wow…Ayato..

You’re a fucking monster…

A few rounds later, the day was already coming closer to dawn, and he seemed completely exhausted. He was still lying on top of you, and he seemed to be completely exhausted after what he had done with you.

He gave you a sad smile, before leaning in and kissing you on the lips. It was a kiss that lasted for a long time...

...He really was a monster.

He picked up the bottle of sleeping pills from the floor and placed them on your bedside table, but then he leaned down again. He kissed you again, and then he whispered into your ears...

"Take better care of yourself, okay Y/N? He smiled, before resting his head against your chest and giving your neck a kiss.

"I'd hate to see you feeling so poorly." He closed his eyes, and he began to fall asleep...

When your alarm rang, you woke up to discover yourself fully naked. “…He really fucking did it.” you laughed.

"You really are a heavy sleeper..." Ayato yawned as he sat up. "Did you enjoy it?"

“Did you?” you ask, looking over at him, still surprised he actually did such a thing.

"Of course I enjoyed it, Y/N." He was grinning sadistically now.

"And if it gets you to stop taking those pills, then I'll do what I have to."

You were in disbelief, unsure on what to say. “So every time I take sleeping pills, you’ll just…do it?”

"Mhm. Every. Single. Time.” He was actually happy with that.

"Because I'm not letting you hurt yourself like this. You want to be like an addict? Then I'm just going to force you to be happy - even if it means going to those lengths myself."

You let out a few laughs, “…Did you like taking me while I was asleep?”

"Of course I did," He gave you a sly, almost creepy smile. "Did you like what I did to you?" His voice was definitely dripping with sarcasm, and he seemed rather amused by your question. He didn't even bother hiding that.

“I consented to it…but I didn’t expect you to do it, actually.”

"...Consent, huh?" That was really the only thing that Ayato cared about here. He needed to know that you were okay with it - otherwise, he couldn't enjoy it nearly as much. But it was enough for him...

"If I'm being honest?" He laughed at his own statement. "I'm having fun with this, to be honest. I'd do this again and again."

You couldn't help but be a little creeped out with what he was saying.

"And again..."

"...and again..."

Your hands trembled a little, but it soon calmed as you realized…what’s the point?

"Why? What makes it so enjoyable..?” You asked. Ayato paused for a moment, and he leaned closer to you.

"Because I can do what I want with you, when I want to, however I want to. And…”

“…God, it just fucking turns me on, Y/N.”

"I love it." He was speaking honestly. He was smiling darkly and he had a mischievous sparkle in his eyes. He was enjoying himself. “It's like you're a piece of property, and I can do whatever I want with it."

“Ayato…do you love me?”

What? Y/N, don’t ask that! What the hell are you doing?

His face turned cold and cruel in an instant.

"Love...you? Don't be ridiculous. What do you even know about love?” Suddenly, all of his friendliness disappeared. That same dark look was in his eyes, and he looked dangerous for a moment.

"You're not capable of loving anyone. All you can do is be selfish."

His words hit you all at once, and it hurt. Why did you have to ask that?

“So I’m…incapable of loving…is that it?” You stammered, looking up at him.

“Hm…yeah.” He let that set in for a moment, before he smiled.

"That's because you're too selfish to care for anyone…”

"Love means that you care for other people. Well, how can you do that when you hate yourself? You can’t even look at yourself without wanting to kill whatever you see in the mirror."

“So tell me, Y/N…”

"...why would I ever love you?"

His stare was dark, and you got the implication now - you weren't worthy of being loved by him. He said the words in a cold tone, and it felt like his eyes were full of evil as he stared at you.

"What have you ever done that's worthy of someone loving you?"

The words cut whatever was left of your fragile, unfeeling heart. “You’re not answering my question…”

He stared at you for a moment then. "...Why do you think you're entitled to an answer?"

He couldn't believe it. Did you just ask him if he loves you?! As if he'd ever love someone like you? As if he was obligated to answer such a question? You were so selfish and delusional. No wonder you were getting the treatment that you were.

You laughed, almost going crazy. Was it the pills? Yeah…yeah, it was the pills.

“No, you need to answer… I want to know. Because…I want to know whether or not it’s worth it to let you take advantage of me. To keep being your pleasure doll.” You stared up at him, almost desperate.

"…Of course I don't love you, dear wife." His voice sounded full of hatred as he said that. But, then again, it did sound like he almost enjoyed speaking those words.

"There. You've got your answer."

You’re stupid, Y/N. You could’ve just continued acting clueless. You shouldn’t have sought for an answer. Now you’re hurt. And it was all your fault…

“…Was it good? Did you feel such good pleasure?” You asked, talking about him taking you while you were asleep.

"Yes. It was fucking great." It was obvious that he was trying to taunt you.

"Did you enjoy it too?"

He wanted to hear you say the words.

"Be honest, dear wife. Tell me, now."

A scoff left your lips as you reached for the bottle, taking a few pills in your mouth. “Doesn’t matter.” you chuckled.

Ayato froze…Y/N, what are you doing? Ayato didn’t know what do you but pull on your shoulder. “What the..fuck? What do you think you’re doing?” He stammers, gripping your shoulder.

But he was only met with a kiss as your body was starting to feel the effects of the 6 pills you decided to take. There was no response initially, as he was left frozen at your behavior. He did not expect this kind of response at all. He had no idea what to do to make you stop.

That had caught him completely off guard, to be honest.

His eyes widened, as he realized what the pills had done to you.

"Oh...no..."

You only smiled. “I’ll…keep doing this…if you like it…”

Why is your smile so genuine? What are you doing?

"No...don't...you...dare... You, you're ...making me like it...” He whispered to himself, looking down at you. You were starting to wobble from drowsiness as he took you in his arms.

"Y/N, you're dangerous. I don’t think you know just how dangerous you are..."

There was a sudden sharpness in his voice. He was angry now, wasn't he?

"Please..." He was begging you, for a moment. "...stop taking those pills..."

You reach out to caress his cheek. “…You enjoy it..don’t you? …I want to make you happy…”

There was no denying it - he did enjoy it. He didn’t want to ever admit that to you anymore. "I-I did enjoy it...but..." He trailed off "But I don't know if it's good for you..."

"I...I should stop you..."

It was obvious he was reluctant to do so.

“It doesn’t matter what I feel… Just..do whatever. If all you want is my body…then…so be it…” You said, your eyes fighting off the sleep.

Ayato's cold eyes opened in shock, hearing what you said to him.

"Do whatever...if all I want is your body?"

He looked confused for a moment. Was that how you viewed him? As someone who only viewed you as a mere pleasure tool? There was so much more to you than that...to him...to everyone.

Ayato was upset to hear that come out of your mouth.

You laughed softly. “I love you, Ayato… and if I have to do this for you to stay…I will…” You sighed, slowly drifting to sleep.

"...don't do this for me." Ayato was shocked. Did you mean what you said? Those words hurt him greatly more than anything else she had said.

"You don't need to do anything to please me, you…bitch.” He tried putting on a brave and confident front, as he spoke in his usual calm and confident voice. "You're worth so much more than that." He was trying to reassure you, but there was a small break in his voice when he said those words. “What..the fuck, Y/N?”

Your body lays limply on his arms as you sleep, there was nothing he could do anymore.

"Oh, fuck..." Ayato's face was full of worry and sadness, as he watched you lying there. It was obvious that your words hurt him greatly, and he couldn't help but shake a little. Could he really let you do something like that to yourself? But his heart broke, as his fears about you becoming a mere tool were coming true.

Would he ever be able to get over this?

He didn't know what to do...

The next day, you woke up like nothing happened. You rushed to the door, putting on your shoes for work. Ayato was left stunned, as he watched you leave. You seemed to be just going about your day, as if nothing had happened. You didn't say anything about the conversation yesterday...you didn't say anything about taking the pills either.

It was as if you didn't remember anything that had happened.

"This is a side of you that I haven't seen before..."

"You really are dangerous...what am I going to do about this...?"

You get home at around 2am. It was a long day at work, and you had come home pretty late. Ayato was in the living room, sitting on the couch and reading a book.

He looked up when you came home, and his eyebrows rose into surprise.

"You're pretty late tonight."

He watched you put your coat and other belongings away, before he looked back down at his book and continued reading.

“Yeah, we had a bit of a celebration after the presentation.” You say. “I’m just gonna fix up the laundry then go to bed.” Your words were blank and plain as you walk to the laundry room.

"Ah." He nodded a little bit, seemingly a little disappointed.

He was hoping that you'd be more forthcoming, so he could talk to you about all of this... You were really frustrating him...and you weren't making it easy to figure out. At all. Suddenly, as if his frustrations reached their final point, Ayato snapped.

"Fine. That's okay. Just do your laundry, Y/N.” He had a mocking smile on his face as he said that. Geez, what’s up with him?

You look out from the laundry room and give him a look. “You okay?”

"Perfectly fine." He had a sinister expression on his face, as he was clearly lying to you. It was obvious that he wasn't fine. His voice was dripping with malice. "I'm not fine. Not at all. And you know why." His tone was dark. He sounded as if he was on the verge of exploding as his eyes glowed in rage.

“…Okay then. Should’ve just said so.” You uttered, walking up to him before pressing your lips on his.

Like usual. Like routine. Like always.

His eyes widened in shock, as if you were crazy. He had no words, as he was completely stunned by this. He didn't move a muscle afterwards, as he just stared at you. He couldn't believe you just did that, as if you still cared about him.

The fact that he didn't immediately kiss you back should tell you, though, how he felt at the moment. He was…confused.

You pull away, noticing how absent he was. “What? Am I doing something wrong? Is this not relieving your stress anymore? Should I take it up a notch?” You were genuinely confused, why was he acting like this?

He had no words, as he was simply trying to wrap his head around what you were saying. "Take it up a notch? How much more do you want than kissing...than..."

He trailed off and didn't continue the sentence. He looked shocked, clearly not expecting the direction of the conversation to take a turn like this.

“Are you not used to it by now? Whenever you’re feeling frustrated, you’d always want this.”

"Used to it? I...you..." He was at a complete loss for words this time. After a moment, he cleared his throat. "You just...just don't care at all, do you?" He chuckled, before stopping again and looking at you seriously.

“Huh? We made an agreement? That you’d release your pent-up frustration on me?” You were lost at this point, wondering if he had bumped his head or something.

He paused for a moment, as he recalled the agreement that he had made with you. You're right...you're right...he had agreed to it...

"I...still...it feels wrong..." He trailed off again, as he wasn't really sure how to react to what you were saying.

You laughed a little, “You’re saying that now? After you and I have been doing it for months now?”

He was silent for a moment, as if he didn't want to admit it.

He was a little ashamed, in fact. He seemed embarrassed that what you had said was true. Eventually, he spoke again.

"...I guess you're right. We've been doing it for months already. I guess it's a little too late to back out of it now."

He paused again for a moment, before he continued speaking.

"...Well...in that case..."

He reached out towards you, before he softly kissed you, which you accepted.

He kept kissing you, before slowly pulling away.

His voice was softer now. There...I, uh, guess I released my frustration out...heh..." He laughed a little bit, trying to lighten the mood. But he didn't want any more, it just felt…weird.

You felt…weird too. Were you doing something wrong? Did he not like you anymore? “What’s wrong? Am I doing something wrong? You’re not usually this…hesitant.”

"No. You're not doing anything wrong."

He paused again, as he didn't want to say it.

He took a moment to think of how he would say this next. Then, he continued speaking.

"I'm just...I just feel like I'm taking advantage of you, in a way." He sighed. "It's not normal, at all. No one would allow themselves to be treated like this in a marriage. But...you still love me...despite all that..."

“…who cares? I allowed you to, anyway.” You say.

"And you would let me...let me do that to you every time I'm feeling frustrated? I...but..."

"Why would you let me do that to you Ayato was actually a little shocked that this wasn't bothering you, since it was obviously a concern for him. "What do you get out of it?"

You didn’t hesitate, you knew your answer. “I get to spend time with you.”

Hearing you say that, he couldn't help but feel a little guilty. He was taking advantage of you, after all, and yet...you would still care for him... He stared at you, as his feelings were mixed.

"I...so you don't care that you're being used like this...? That you're treated like..." He trailed off again, as he remembered the agreement.

"…a tool?"

You only nodded as you let out a blank but genuine “Sure.”

Ayato was in disbelief. He couldn't understand why you would allow him to treat you like this, or why it didn't bother you. "What is going on in your head?" He couldn't understand it at all. “...why don't you care that you're being used like this?" He spoke in a quiet voice, as he looked at you with a look of confusion and worry on his face.

You smile as you say, “…Because I love you.“

He paused for a moment, as he thought about it, before he finally responded, with a soft nod. "Right. You're right..." He sighed, seeming a little worried.

"I'll keep doing this, then. I'll keep taking advantage of you without any regrets...because...you seem to be okay with it..." He says, hesitantly.

“You okay?” Your head tilts in confusion.

"I'm fine. I'm just...still a little in disbelief about this." He looked at you with some concern as he lets out a chuckle. “H-How do you not find this weird...or wrong...or off-putting?"

He paused again for a moment, before he continued speaking. "I...I can't understand why you're okay with this. It's as if you're a masochist...and no one's supposed to be that much of a masochist..."

You shrug, answering honestly. It was about time he found out anyway.

“I used to find it weird…had a few regrets. But..I just didn’t want you to go back to your affairs…if this is what will make you stay…then so be it. I don’t care how rough you get, I don’t care how much you hate me. I just want you to stay. Even if this was just an arranged marriage. “

His heart broke at hearing those words, as he finally understood where you were coming from.

"What the fuck, Y/N..." Tears formed in his eyes, as his voice let out a shaky chuckle.

"I'm so sorry..." He didn't bother hiding his emotions anymore, as tears began to fall from his eyes.

“Wah! Why’re you crying?! Are you okay?” You were surprised, you hold him by the shoulder as you look up at him, trying to meet his gaze.

“You’re the one who should be crying!” He shouted. "You're the one who's been mistreated this whole time...and I don't see any tears coming from you..."

He sighed, trying to dry his tears away.

"Why are you okay with this..." He spoke in a soft voice, as he looked at you with a look of concern. He still felt guilty, of course.

You rubbed his back, still confused about what was happening. “Because I love you, why should I cry?”

He was stunned. He was confused at your words. You...you didn't mind being used and mistreated by him...

"Why...? You deserve better than that. Than me..." He trailed off, as he looked down, not wanting to meet your eye.

“…I don’t deserve better.” You utter.

“You do!” Ayato yelled. “I’m a fucking asshole! I took advantage of you! I did shitty things! And here you are, clinging to me, when you deserve so much better!”

“Then be better, Ayato!” You yelled back.

He looked at you in surprise, before he let out a nervous chuckle.

"Be better? How do you think I should do that?"

He shook his head.

"I don't think I could ever be better...not after all the terrible things I've done to you..." Tears were starting to fall from his eyes again.

"...I don't deserve you..."

You shook him by the shoulders, “Then do better to deserve me! I want no one else but you!”

He freezes as he looked into your eyes, shocked. There was only complete silence, before he softly kisses you.

You didn’t know how to feel at that point, but you could sense that…he was genuine for once.

He pulled away from the kiss, his eyes still streaming with tears as he looked at you. “I... I'll try my best to be a better man...for your sake..." He was crying, as he wiped his eyes clean. He couldn't believe what was going on.

"I'll try my best to become deserving of you...and your love..."

You sighed, hugging him, your my head on his chest. “Don’t cry.”

He sniffed, before wiping his tears once more. He tried to calm himself down, before finally hugging you back.

"I'm so sorry..." He said, as he nuzzled his head into you. "I'm so sorry that you still love me...after all of that..."

“Shhh, it’s okay..it’s okay…” you utter, rubbing his back.

He sniffled, as he nuzzled your head even further. He tried to calm himself down, so he didn't cry anymore.

"Just know... that I will protect you…”

"…I will protect you with my life."

As he spoke, he hugged you tighter.

“…I’ll deserve you one day…so please wait for me…”

A few years had passed, you and Ayato are still married. Well…now happily married. You had finally managed to come to an understanding, as he treated you with love.

He still made use of you when he was feeling frustrated, as you had agreed to it long ago. But now you understood each other. You understood exactly what each other wanted, and you wanted to be there for each other.

Even your children were happy, as you gave them so much love and affection.

Children? Oh yes…your nights of fucking paid off with 3 beautiful children.

You were a great family.

One night, as were putting your children to bed, you were carrying your youngest baby in your arms, cradling and rocking her to sleep. Ayato was tucking your two other children in bed. He watched as you rocked your baby to sleep.

Your baby looked so happy now. You also seemed to be having fun.

He smiled at seeing the scene, as he thought to himself.

"This is what happiness looks like...my family is happy..." He was glad to see that your family was all happy together. It made him realize just how lucky he was.

“Stop staring, Ayato.” You called out, feeling his gaze. “You getting emotional, hun?” you teased as you laid your infant down on their crib.

He raised an eyebrow, still smirking.

"Emotional?” He chuckled. "Am I?" He chuckled again, as he reached out, wrapping his arms around you and pulling you close.

"You're one to talk." He said, as he kissed you passionately, before finally breaking apart after a couple of seconds.

"I love you." He said with a smile, as he looked into your eyes, his own full of love and affection.

You smiled, “I love you, too.”

"Even though I've been using you all this time...you still love me? He looked deep into your eyes. He was so happy to hear that you loved him back. In fact, he thought maybe now was the right time... He leaned in for another kiss, as he spoke in a quiet voice. "Would you say...you'd do anything for me?”

You laughed “Yes, I would. Don’t tell me…you’re still thinking about our past, are you?”

He laughed to himself. How had you have known? "Well, I suppose I am, although I'm also thinking about our future..." He was silent, as he thought.

"You...you really would do anything for me? Just as you did back then...you're still willing to do that for me even now..." He paused for a moment, as he thought about what he would ask of you.

"You... you would marry me again... if I asked you to?"

You froze, looking up at him. “…What was that?”

"Did I stutter?"

He smirked.

"I'm...serious here..." He paused for a second.

"Would you...marry me again? Again, he paused for a moment. "After everything I've put you through..everything, and you'd still do it again..." He closed his eyes for a second, as he spoke softly. He couldn't imagine anything better than what he was about to ask for.

“I want to make this official. I don’t want to be married to you because our families want us to….”

“…This time, I want to marry you because I love you.”

"…So...will you...will you marry me?"

Well, Y/N? …Will you?

#Spotify #maladaptivedaydreamerspost #maladaptivedaydreamers #tw:noncon #tw: dubcon #ayato x reader #ayato imagines #kamisato ayato #ayato smut #genshin ayato #genshin smut #genshin angst #smut #arranged marriage #ayato kamisato imagines #ayato x you #ayato x y/n #ayato x fem!reader

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undead-merman · 1 year ago

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Day Twenty One: Teacher Telepathy

Eden and GN Pc

This idea was from @inkyquince's professor Eden. Yes, I wrote this for Inky and Necro

Contains student and teacher relations, thoughts of kidnapping, abuse and extortion of reader, stalking, adoption with the intent to lock you up and fuck you

Fucking coffee grinder broke right on his first day. Snapped right in his hands before he could even make a cup. Normally he’d fix it, but this one was a welcoming gift from Sirris, some electrical hunk of shit instead of an old school mechanical one like he prefers. He doesn’t know how to fix this fucking thing. He’s not even sure what happened to the old one. So now he’s without coffee and a grinder for it. He’d have to stop by that little run down place right at the forest edge to pick up another.

He grabbed his ham and cheese lunch, wrapped in a brown paper bag, a bottle of filtered water, and house keys before heading out. The sun had yet to rise, leaving the shadows as thick as dark as the thoughts of people passing by.

All of them, fucking disgusting.

Each one echoed in his head like a chamber. Disturbed and deprived thoughts from everyone, though a few thoughts resonate fear when he walked by. Fearing his face, his build, his walk, or even his scars. Some even … Lusted after him, thoughts they believed to be private were loud about what they’d do to him.

It just made his mood worse.

When he got to school and managed to get some coffee from there, it was watery, tasted like trash and some kind of cleaning chemical. He dumped it after the first drink and decided to opt for his water to settle him over as he sat in his room and looked over each class roster. Nothing special, not surprised.

So before everyone filed into his workshop, he took the time to start whittling and enjoy the rare silence.

The classes were as loud as he expected. Not just out loud, he could quiet them down in a second, but their thoughts were all over. It gave him a migraine instantly.

Some of them thought this class meat they could fuck around, either with each other or. He made sure to nip that idea right in the bud. It was a hassle just dealing with everyone. Though there was you. You minded your own business, you were particularly cute, not rowdy/ but one thing that stuck out was how calm your thoughts were. They weren’t as foul as the others in town. Sure you weren’t focused entirely on the task assigned but the thoughts about the dog you saw at the orphanage made him smile to himself.

His eyes hardly left you. He studied every part of you. The way you carried yourself, talked to your peers. He didn’t even realize till the end of class that he’d been completely enraptured by you. Even by the end of the school day, his thoughts lingered on you. Even when he got home and took a shower,

he found his thoughts lingering on you still.

Looking down, he saw his cock twitching to life, the dark head began to swell and leak. He ran a hand from his stomach down to his mess of pubes as he thought about your face. The heat of arousal just builds as he adds more kindling to it. Thinking about if you were a virgin or not. You seemed like it. His hand grabs his dick and began pumping.

How tight would you be around him? Were you a quiet moaner or a screamer? You seem like the type to like it rough, and he could provide that. Ram into your hole and until you see stars.

He spills on his hand, and he takes a moment to look at what he’s done. There's shame, though not as much as he’d thought there’d be. His contentedness outweighs anything else. He could do this again and have no problems with the fact that you are his student.

It’s been a few weeks now, he’s gotten used to the schedule, he knows almost everyone’s names now, even if he didn't really did not care for most of his students.

But you, he likes you. He keeps an eye on you in class. Watching you as you work and being one of the rare student’s he comes up to help instead of telling them to pay more attention in class before kicking them off the machines for the day. He would have been fine with simply having perverted thoughts about you and jerking off in the shower every night. He really would have, but you saw one of his whittled pieces and smiled looking over it.

Those soft hands of yours gliding over the carved out wolf, your head filled with nothing but genuine awe. Shit, he wanted to ruin you now. You were too docile and sweet for this damn town. He built a cage under his bed for you. It was a spur of them moment thing on a weekend after Sirris dragged him along for drinks. He hated drinking, he wasn’t even sure why he agreed. But the buzz in his stomach and head had him trying to busy his hands and lead to a half finished cage. And when he woke up to see it, he made sure to finish it. The idea of you under there had him just staring, picturing you inside, as he stroked his cock a bit harder this time around than normal. Grumbling when he realized his cum flew and he had to clean the bars.

He’d made his coffee for the day, sat at his seat waiting for the morning to start when he heard a knocking on the door. He frowned, sat up from the chair and swung it open, expecting some snotting idiot to ask him for an extension on a project. No, it was you. Project in hand.

You sat in with him making small talk that he strangely found himself enjoying as he gazed at your project. You did well. Surprisingly so, most students just turn it in for a grade with stuff he’s seen a dozen times before, but you added your own flair and seemed to work hard on it.

You’d be good as a house spouse. Fixing his clothes, taking time to sew up that rip in his nice cable knit sweater. He let one question out, just to test the waters and masking it as concern for you. You answered and seemed happy he was asking something more personal than just to put your name and date on your paper. He asked more, and before he knew it, his watch went off, five minutes before the first bell. You gave him a smile and a wave.

‘Mr. Eden looks handsome today.’

His heart went into his throat as you went out the door. He locked the door and fucked his fist. Cumming all over his hand with two minutes still left.

You came into his room more frequently. He could hear your thoughts. You found him safe, even nice. He couldn’t have been farther from those things. In fact, he was the most dangerous thing to you at this school. But he loved that. He loved how safe and secure you felt when he simply was just in the room with you. Would you feel the same way he sat you on his lap during class? Skull fucked you while there was a test going on?

“Mr. Eden are you married?”

He could be. He’d marry you. Not only that, but he’d take excellent care of you. Make sure you never felt lonely, the bed was always warm, He’d even make dinners for you if you made breakfast and coffee. He answers. No. he doesn’t elaborate. And you were content with that, just the way he likes it.

Though your fist catches his eye. Bruised, just ever so slightly, probably even covered up with some kind of make up. He studied you more as you looked at his news carving. Just under your school shirt right at the neck, rubbed off by the collar, was a bruise, one from a rope. He shouldn’t be surprised. You lived at the orphanage. He’d heard about your debt, he was acquainted with Bailey, after all.

Maybe, just maybe, he’d give Bailey a call about you?

Sure enough, he was right. He’d been getting you to pay over four thousand a week for the past few months. Figures. Bailey asked if he was interested in you, already sniffing out the reason. He didn’t fully respond, though that was because he didn’t have to.

“The brat hasn’t been able to make their payments. Probably won’t even have this week's either.”

Bailey still owed him that favor… He mentioned it, and he heard a very rare laugh come from him.

“You want them?”

That alone caused him to rub the front of his legs, feeling his trousers becoming tight.

It was faster than he expected. Bailey made a comment he was getting soft when he requested it look like an adoption, even though he didn’t actually care about signing it. It just had to look that way to you.

When you had gotten the news, you’d busted into his room blabbering and pulling him into a hug with big wet eyes. Your thoughts were loud today, like new year's celebrations. It was cute, he found himself petting your head and when you calmed down he could hear the thoughts you were trying to push out of your own mind.

‘He’s going to be my dad now… I shouldn’t think about that kind of stuff.’

He’d never dug into thoughts. Not like this. He chased after what you tried to bury. Fantasies about you and him. Not as filthy as what he had in mind, but the fact you saw him in that light had him clenching his hand so hard his nails were digging into his callouses. What was stopping him from pushing you onto the desk and fucking you, just like you both wanted? Tying you up and dragging you home to lock under his bed until you couldn’t do anything but drool over his cock and beg for him to claim you as his own.

He moved closer. Slowly dragging his hand-over your knee and working over your thigh. He could hear you, even though you weren’t talking. He adored the little conflict running through your mind. Even more so with the fact you didn’t move away. Your mind ran a muck, and he kept pushing. You didn’t stop him. Eternally, you were hoping for more. And he gave it to you. Large hands pushing into your underwear to grope you. His middle finger rubbing against your hole.

Soon enough you were in his lap, his fingers inside you, sloppy and wet. The sounds of your hole being abused, and your heavy breathing were loud in his empty classroom. Your fingers digging into the flesh of his arm as he watched you like a predator. You were just as tight as he hopped, if not more so.

Your toes and legs curled as you came from his hand alone. You were gasping for breath. He simply unfastened his buttons and pulled down his zipper. Slowly pulling out his fingers before pulling another confiscated packet of lube out and squeezed it onto his cock.

And he was going to have you all to himself when he finally got you home too.

#dol #degrees of lewdity #eden the hunter #dol eden #tw: student teacher relations #tw: abuse mention #tw: kidnapping #tw: reader abuse

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tidewhims · 2 months ago

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🚨HIATUS 🚨

Life Update;

Hey guys I know you’ve seen me just barely being active lately but that’s cause ya girl is NEWLY ENGAGED! hehe that’s right 🥺🥰 I’m getting married guys! I also went back to school for my Masters degree & my new job is kinda been busy so that’s why I haven’t been playing as much along with All these updates making my game lag a bunch I haven’t had the opportunity to really clean up my files to see if that would help . But instead I think I’m gonna just Get a BRAND NEW PC by Christmas time and use my gaming laptop for school til further notice. So I’ll be gone for about 2-3 months. I’ll be around-ISH though.

I just wanna thank everyone who shows love and support and the people who have helped me improve my posts/Edits, giving me tips & helping me develop my sim style! You guys inspire me and make the game so much more fun’ FOLLOW THEM>>>>>>> @mandiespalette @starrysimsie @aashwarr @amanda-plays @acuar-io @hazelminesims @cinamun

You guys make sims so much more of a fun and entertaining experience. Thank you for your work and creative content!

#ts4 gameplay #ts4 simblr #taking a break #hiatus #I’ll be back for winter #black simmer #thesims4 #black simblr

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save-the-villainous-cat · 1 year ago

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could u do a villain having a crush on hero, but not admitting it, and the other villains/henchmen teasing them for it bc they’re all “i am the epitome of darkness and all things evil” but when hero shows up they’re a blushing mess 😭 love ur writing <3

The henchman looked down at their victim. Slowly, they kicked them with their boot over, so that they were lying on their back. Blood was dripping down a wound on their forehead and their eyes seemed to be glassy already. What they hated the most about this job was the cleaning. A crime scene was truly hard to make look like before.

They wrinkled their nose.

“Looking pretty dead, if you ask me.” They turned towards their boss and tilted their head, hopefully signalling them that this meant they could wrap things up.

“We haven’t checked all of the perimeter,” the villain noted. The henchman knew quite well the villain wasn’t the best at concentrating on one thing. However, when it came to the hero, they were easily determined. They let their bloody knuckles crack, one after the other and the henchman wasn’t even sure why they had agreed to help the villain in the first place. This seemed a little too private. Even for them. “I’m curious about the basement.”

“Believe me, no one survived. And even if they did, they’re long gone. No one’s here anymore.” The henchman looked around and their eyes went over the warm bodies. They had to admit, these were quite drastic measures but the villain was…a special person.

“Hm.” Their boss was clearly not satisfied with that answer, so they started fidgeting. For as long as the henchman had known them, they weren’t one to be still. They walked up and down like a panther in a cage, searching through files and for cameras, taking in heavy breaths when they were frustrated, frowning when they got distracted. All of that was pretty much normal but the henchman also knew that they were nervous and moving more than usually.

It was an open secret now that people tried to assassinate the city’s saviour and the villain had tried everything in their power to prevent it.

It had been a long, incredibly and frustratingly long journey to watch the villain fall in love. They were stubborn and apparently not capable of allowing themselves to feel anything besides…rage. So, when the henchman had to watch them flirt with the hero awkwardly, they felt like a kid watching their parents.

Strangely sweet and totally embarrassing. God, what a mess.

So, it didn’t surprise the henchman that the villain tried to eliminate every possible threat.

“Your little hero will surely survive if one or two people attack them,” they said eventually. “They’re pretty tough.”

“This isn’t about the hero.” That made the henchman roll their eyes.

“No, you obviously just like killing random people.” The villain looked up from the papers they were looking through and frowned. It was like dealing with a teenager who was too embarrassed to ask out their crush and the henchman was so unbelievably sick of it.

“How about you look through this old bad boy—” they slapped the PC on the table next to them “—instead of being such a nuisance?”

The henchman grinned.

“I don’t think the hero likes people who insult their friends,” they said as they (reluctantly) sat down and turned on the computer. The desktop was illuminated by a strange blue light, dipping the already dark room into a weird atmosphere.

“Oh, what would you know about what they like…” The henchman could see the villain’s ears turn red and it would have been impressive what kind of power the hero had over them if it wasn’t so pathetic.

“Well, what would you know? You can’t even look them in the eyes when they talk to you.” That one team-up a few months ago had been really strange. An undeniable chemistry had been looming around the hero and the villain. Both got excited about the other’s tech, both technically read each other’s minds when they were creating plans and both were too oblivious to notice the people around them and their ugh-get-a-room-looks. Everyone on the team referred to it as The Incident. At least the villain had been in a good mood for the whole week after that.

“That’s, hey, that’s not true.”

“I don’t blame you. It’s like the whole city is thirsting after them. People definitely have too much time on their hands,” the henchman mumbled as they tried all kinds of password combinations to get into the computer. They looked over to the villain who seemed…determined? To be thinking a little too much?

“But the hero wouldn’t sleep with a fan…right?”

“If it’s too hot in summer, they probably will,” the henchman answered as the computer announced for the third time that their access got denied.

“Ah, forget it.” The villain showed absolutely no appreciation for their joke and somehow that was what did it for the henchman.

“Okay, listen.” The henchman pushed themselves away from the desk and rolled over to the villain with their chair. “You both are incredibly pathetic people and I truly believe that I will throw myself out of a window if I have to watch you flirt with them one more time.”

“…I’m not that bad, am I?”

The henchman sighed.

“They like you. They like you a lot. You obviously care for each other.”

“Debatable,” the villain said and the henchman wanted to pull out their hair.

“Okay,” the henchman said. “I’ll ask them out then.”

The look the villain gave them was indescribable.

#they’re frens #the password was d1cknb@lls btw #writing snippet #heroxvillain prompt #heroxvillain snippet #hero #villain #heroes and villains #hero x villain #heroxvillain #an answer for an ask #request

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itsuki-minamy · 5 months ago

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"K – LETTER STORY"

BLUE: "THE TESTAMENT OF REISI MUNAKATA"

Translation: Naru-kun Raws: Ridia

Enomoto discovered the corrupt file in a corner of the cloud while working to restore the system that had been trampled by "Jungle". Because the virus spread by "Jungle" remained a minefield on the public and private network, it was necessary for "Scepter 4" to shut down the network, re-clean the directory, and completely destroy any suspicious files there.

After carefully isolating the corrupted file and restoring it, it turned out to be a video file. When he checked the file's path, he discovered that it had been uploaded from Seiun's bedroom.

"Fushimi-san. What is this?"

"Eh?"

Fushimi approached Enomoto's seat.

"I'll try to reproduce it."

Unusually, Munakata was shown wearing casual civilian clothing, rather than a uniform or kimono. He shows him sitting at his desk in his room in Seiun's dormitory from the front. The date and time are just after his dismissal as director of the fourth legislative office.

Munakata, who was sitting at his desk with his fingers intertwined, opened his mouth.

[I leave you this letter on video in case I don't come back.]

Without saying a word, Fushimi placed a hand on the side of Enomoto's PC and leaned in to look at the screen. Enomoto stepped back a little and gave the place to Fushimi.

[A separate notarial document on the inheritance of private property has been preserved. I am a mediocre official, so I don't leave much wealth.]

Munakata had a mocking smile on his face that he couldn't read, whether he was serious or joking.

"Fushimi-san, this is..."

"It's the boss's will."

Enomoto swallowed at what Fushimi said with an emotionless face. Neither of them asked to stop watching, but they continued.

[The fact that there are people watching this letter on video means that I did not return. Did they accomplish what they were supposed to do or did they fail and allow the world to fall into chaos? In the latter case, all members withdrew, disbanded, returned to private life, and became normal individuals. This will be my last order.

Even if it is the former, I hope that social order is maintained even if I am absent. In fact, it can be said that the reason for being of "Scepter 4" has become ingrained in the social system even though I am no longer needed as an individual.

Awashima-kun, I trust that you will handle the official consequences without omissions. I'm sorry I didn't tell you anything. I will take Zenjo-san and Fushimi-kun with me. I needed someone to take care of the rest and I couldn't think about you. I'm sure you have many things to tell me.]

Munakata hit Awashima's "what he meant" with a single punch. He felt dizzy as he looked at Munakata's blurry face with red and swollen cheeks.

[Also, I should explain to you about Fushimi-kun here. I think he will survive because I take measures to bring him back alive, but I don't think he is the type to explain himself.]

Even after the incident, Munakata verbally explained the fact that Fushimi was infiltrated into "Jungle". If Munakata hadn't returned alive, everyone would surely have had a misunderstanding.

"I'm glad you're safe... Both the boss and Fushimi-san."

Feeling relieved once again, Enomoto murmured in a wet voice. Fushimi snorted.

"That was a boring suicide note. I thought he would say something about his personal life that he would never say if he were still alive, but being a "public figure" is what makes him a real person."

Perhaps it was Enomoto's desire to say something that seemed like a curse to hide his embarrassment. As Fushimi looked away from the screen and was about to get up from his seat, Munakata in the video continued.

[In other words, I would like to say that the discussion with Fushimi-kun that day was also scripted, but you said it quite well, Fushimi-kun. Was I defeated by Otori Seigo? What do you mean by not saying anything? You use interesting vocabulary. Completely beaten? Hoho... Do I want to become Otori Seigo?]

Munakata rested his chin on his intertwined fingers and smiled.

Fushimi clicked his tongue vigorously.

"Don't take it seriously. You said much more."

"Wasn't there a script for that?"

"Hey, I was just following orders to infiltrate "Jungle" by any means necessary in case the Christmas operation failed."

"Hehe. This is a communication between Fushimi-kun and me."

Enomoto suddenly heard a voice behind him and jumped into his chair. Fushimi looked back indifferently.

Munakata was standing there, again wearing the fourth section chief's uniform, which was different from the one in the video.

"Sorry, I found a file while I was working."

"I'm going to delete it. It's no longer needed, so I'll delete it completely without a trace."

While Enomoto was quick to make excuses, Fushimi said calmly and without hesitation.

"Yes. Please delete it. It is no longer necessary."

Munakata nodded and smiled with some satisfaction. Enomoto thought it was a little strange that he had gone to the trouble of repeating his intention, but he said goodbye to Munakata as he left the station and said, "Thank you for your hard work.". His beautiful, broad blue back disappeared into the hallway.

If he were a private citizen and asked to protect what was most important to him, he thought about what he would have protected. Well, he doesn't have a girlfriend, so his family at home, his hobby collection, etc... No. He thinks he stayed back and did the best he could, even in a small way, to maintain order and protect the others citizens who had fallen into chaos. In fact, all his colleagues in the Special Forces did it as a matter of course.

Even in Munakata's absence, they would create an orderly, common-sense society in which each person acted to protect "what is most important to each person" based on his own judgment.

It has been proven that Munakata's soul was already incorporated into the BIOS of the basic system running "Scepter 4".

Enomoto deleted Munakata's will, which was no longer necessary.

#k #k project #k stories #reisi munakata #fushimi saruhiko #scepter 4 #enomoto tatsuya #seri awashima #jungle #k letter story

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techav · 4 months ago

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On Boot Failures

Headlines everywhere on Friday, the 19th of July, 2024 were about the massive computer outages caused by a faulty update to the CrowdStrike antivirus software. It seems some config file choked up a kernel module causing Windows machines to fail with the infamous Blue Screen of Death.

I recently started a new job and was perhaps a little smug in the fact that in my new job I am no longer responsible for hundreds of endpoints running CrowdStrike.

Karma's a bitch though.

I shut down my home PC Friday night to install a memory upgrade and after powering it back on I was met with the very same Blue Screen of Death.

"A critical process died" it told me, with no information about what said process actually was.

And no log files.

And no dump files.

System Restore failed. sfc /scannow failed. dism /cleanup-image failed. Everything I could find failed. I couldn't even just reinstall Windows over the existing installation because apparently that requires being already booted into the OS that currently isn't running.

The log files from dism led me to believe the problem might be related to registry corruption, but my attempts at replacing system registry files with clean ones from an install wim were not successful.

I was grasping at straws. Starting from scratch with a clean install is daunting and would have set me back weeks. I was contemplating pulling out an old SSD and just running with Linux Mint for a while.

Through desperation, I downloaded Hiren's BootCD PE so I could poke around a little more. None of the tools included there were able to resolve the issue either, but just having access to a standard Explorer shell and a web browser helped.

Finally I came across ShadowCopyView, a program that can explore the System Restore images that Windows (can) take regularly. In one last desperate effort, I moved out all of the system registry files from C:\Windows\System32\config and used ShadowCopyView to replace them with copies from an automatic restore point the previous Monday.

That actually did the trick. I was able to reboot into my primary Windows partition and sign in like normal.

I have no idea what may have been lost in a few days of registry updates, and I have no idea what may have caused the problem to begin with. But I am happy I was able to find something in the end that would get me back into my system without having to reinstall everything from scratch.

... Although maybe I should anyway.

And should anyone encounter something similar in the future, these were the kind of errors I was seeing that a Google search wasn't really coming up with anything useful:

dism.log: failed to open registry root

dism.log: failed to query for path to user profiles directory

dism.log: failed to load the default user profile registry hive

dism.log: failed to load offline store from boot directory

srttrail.txt: pending package install

strtrail.txt: boot manager generic failure

#modern computing #crowdstrike #microsoft #windows #troubleshooting #bsod #blue screen of death

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wyvolf · 8 months ago

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[OLD ART FROM 2020]

Going through my files to clean up my pc, and found this old thing. if my memory serves and by the context i think this was the idea that Dr. Iceberg got arrest and Mr. Dr. Alto Clef served as his lawyer.

Certainly a concept... feat. An old Iceberg design I had prior to my current one.

#scp #scp foundation #digital art #sketch #wip #old art #circa 2020 #alto clef #dr clef #dr alto clef #dr iceberg #fanart #scp fanart #scp art #artists on tumblr #cosmohause #cosmohause art

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svcredveins · 1 month ago

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I think I may try the lav mic method soon. I just have to buy one and hopefully it’ll slot right into my steth’s earpeice. It’s awkward because I don’t live alone either so yeah…at least it’s not medical related lol. Ideally I don’t really want to use my gaming PC for this but I am generally intrigued what sound I could get out of it. Won’t be doing that though for a bit because I really want to move into the other room

Reason why is because I made a mistake because one of my sim racing league mates was actually willing to buy the whole rig for me and I made a mistake getting a large one that’s not foldable nor can move so…yeah…yikes. It won’t fit in my current room at all because of how small my room is. I could really do huge arrangements, but why when my bed is massive and it takes up half of the room. The outlets are put in really awkwardly so I have a “cubby hole” of space without an outlet. It’s so strange. Eh. The other room is longer and I can do more there to be honest like not having to worry about the length and width of my new desk that I wanna get soon - the Karbly desk with Alex drawers from IKEA. It’s so aesthetic! So many gamers have that and I’m planning to just put my PC on top of the desk. Hate the fact that it’s already collecting dust when it’s two weeks old now, and I’m no PC tech savvy so ain’t no way I’ll be taking a part any component just for a clean. My GPU just has specs of dust on the surface. It’s only a matter of time before it’s somewhere else which I’m not happy about.

But yeah, this will give me more of a layout to make my room feel more me instead of crap everywhere lmao. Nothing is set up and it’s still a mess so I can see things to be more aesthetically pleasing when moving in, plus my move to a whole sim rig finally!

But anyway for future advice, how would I save a file out of Audacity, or whatever it’s called? My old PC could screen record anything on the desktop but I apparently can’t with my new PC, just games, and I am not gonna dabble into fixing that where I can record the desktop lol

#cardiophilia #heartbeat #cardiophile #cardiophile thoughts #stethoscope #self stething #beating heart #female cardiophile #female heartbeat

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roadkillxd · 2 years ago

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❝ prompt: sex pollen. ❞

OKAY I’m up way too late so I’ll proof read this tomorrow. Enjoy!

Alex Keller x M!Reader ↪ 3995 words — 18+ / SMUT

Content tags — cis male submissive Alex, cis male dominant reader, dub-c0n, inaccurate science and military garbage, sex pollen / aphrodisiacs, drugging, referenced / implied pegging, prostate stimulation, oral sex, praise, unsafe sex, fingering, penetrative sex, anal sex, and implied / referenced date r*pe drug targeting women because I don’t know how to tag that but thought it could be upsetting.

Key — C/S for callsign, Y/N for insert name.

You fall in step behind Alex, rifle down but poised. The hallways are sterile and ominously silent, nothing but your footsteps and the soft buzzing of the bright white lights echoing down the corridor.

You’d met resistance earlier on in the lab, but past the airlock Alex had busted open you’d found no signs of life—which was damning, considering you were both here for information, having yet to find a shred of paperwork or even a damned filing cabinet that wasn’t empty.

The two of you didn’t have to say it to know you were both thinking it—this was either a trap or a waste of time. They’d probably somehow caught wind of the raid and cleaned up shop, evacuated the scientists. There was nothing here.

But Laswell would have your heads if you abandoned op without searching the entire laboratory, so here you were, waiting for Alex’s signal as he inched his gun past the corner of the door frame to scan the room before waving you on past him.

You raise your gun as you sweep the room one more time. There’s a lab counter against the wall with canisters atop them, each set into their own metal holder. You don’t see any wording on them, just pink paint around the middle of each canister.

On the opposite wall is a desktop that you make your way over to.

You leaned down to peek at the computer case, finding it intact unlike all of the others you’d seen so far, dismantled with all of the important information bits missing.

“Got something,” you called out to Alex.

You booted the PC up, propping your gun up against the desk as you sat down in the rolling chair. Alex came up behind you, leaning, inked arm over your shoulder to support himself on the desk as he watched you search through the computer’s files.

“I don’t know what any of these are,” you mumble, scrolling through a plethora of scientific looking names.

“Chemicals,” Alex responds gruffly, and you tsk.

“Well, yeah, thanks. But what’re any of them? There’s a shit ton.”

Alex lets his gun go slack on the strap, reaching to point at one of the lines of text, the one that reads bis(2-chloroethyl) sulfide.

“Mustard gas.”

“Christ,” you sigh out, “do you know the others?”

“Nope,” he admits, squinting at the screen, “not for us to know, though. Let's just get this back to Laswell, alright?”

You frown, scrolling a bit further down. Your eye catches on a specific file, far less complicated looking than the others.

Bufotenin aphrodisias.

You glance over to Alex, who’s busy jimmying the lock on a filing cabinet, and then look back to the computer.

“Alex, do you know what bufotenin is?”

“Toad venom, psychoactive in concentration,” he mumbles, and then looks over to you, “are you still…? We need to get—”

You click on the file.

The screen goes black and you startle, watching the faint lights of it’s machinery blank out one by one.

“Shit.”

“What did you—!?” Alex begins, cut off as you both hear the loud, droning beep of the metal door locking shut, the light on the keypad turning red.

You both look at each other just as the lights go out, the dull crimson of the emergency lights basking you in an ominous glow.

And then you hear the hissing.

Alex turns around, toward the sound just as the canisters seem to pop, a cloud of pink mist blasting into his face. He watched wide-eyed as he instinctively gasps in a big breath, too late as he inhales whatever the hell it is, before turning away coughing. The gas slowly starts to leak out onto the floor, toward you.

You back away, pressing your forearm over your mouth and against your nostrils like that’ll do you any good.

Alex hasn’t fallen dead on the floor yet, which you pray is a good sign, especially considering how particularly vulnerable he is to chemical weapons after the whole situation at the Highway of Death.

He looks up to you wide-eyed, and scrambles towards you, the hand not trying to cover his face tugging at his utility belt. He yanks his gas mask loose and grabs you, shoving it over your head.

“Alex, what’re you—” you gasp out, feeling him seal it as you take a deep, stuttering breath of stale air.

The mist overtakes the room slowly, and Alex just stands in front of you, holding your wrists in fear you’ll try and pull the mask off—try and play heroics to spare him or something.

Except, you know better. Alex has already breathed in an ungodly amount, a mask wouldn’t do him much good now.

You try and shift, to move and look around the room—for a way out, but Alex’s hands remain tight around your wrists, and he yanks you back in front of him when you step away.

“Alex,” you hiss, tugging against him again.

His pupils are blown wide, and you can see how much he’s sweating, taking in big gulping breaths—panting. Definitely not something one would usually do in a room filled to the brim in possibly deadly gas.

He blinks a few times, though, releasing you to wipe the sweat from his brow.

“S-sorry, I—I checked out for a second,” he says meekly.

“What’re your symptoms, Alex?”

“Shit,” he breathes, cringing at the wetness of his mustache, the sweat collecting at his upper lip, bitter, “uh, fever. Definitely. Lungs kind of burn. That’s expected. Heart’s beating pretty fast, maybe just adrenaline.”

“Strong maybe.”

“Yeah. Yeah, uh…” he trails off, his breath stuttering, pink tongue peeking out to lick at his chapped lips.

You frown, pressing a hand to his forehead. You startle slightly when he immediately reaches up to grab your forearm, holding you in place with a gentle squeeze. He’s burning up, skin slick and searing.

“You’re not gonna die on me, right?”

Alex barks a laugh, short and a bit choked, but a laugh, and you can’t help the small, sad smile you give.

“Let’s find a way out of here first, yeah?” He says, and his voice is noticeably gravellier. He doesn’t let go of your arm for a long moment, however, not until you give a slight tug. He frowns and releases you with another murmured, “sorry.”

You head over to the door, digging for the keycard you pulled off one of the hired guns earlier. The little screen beeps at you when you swipe it, flashing red, and you huff, trying it a few more times only to be met with the same ACCESS DENIED.

“Key cards no-go. Low clearance,” you grunt, tossing it onto the floor.

“Computer’s dead,” Alex responds, fucking with the PC case before giving it a hard punch.

“Woah, woah, hey,” you call, taking a few steps toward him. He’s hunched over under the desk, and you can’t see his face, but you can see how his shoulders rise and fall with heaving breaths, “still need that hard drive in tact, Alex, right? Remember?”

You feel like you’re talking to a child, or a wild dog, morelike. But he’s off-kilter. Out of it. You can tell how he’s trying to maintain his hold, though, as he gives a frustrated sigh and turns to stand with yet another “right, sorry.”

“I’m gonna try and call this in,” you explain, “hopefully we can get a signal. Get some backup out here.”

He nods, but he doesn’t really seem to be listening as he scans the room, blinking with purpose like he’s trying to keep his vision clear. You watch as you fidget with the radio, finally getting a barely clear line into Laswell as Alex seems to spot something across the room.

“Watcher-1, how copy?”

“Getting a lot of static, C/S, but I can make you out. Send traffic.”

“Building should be cleared but, uh, we ran into a bit of an… issue.”

You get a burst of static and wince, barely making out the go on, C/S.

“Found a computer. Hard drives should be intact but possibly wiped. There must’ve been a trap or something in the system. Locked us in one of the lab rooms here and gassed us.”

“What’s your condition?”

You watch Alex across the room pull some kind of lever, something akin to a fire alarm on the wall, and hear a loud metal thunk as some of the slatted vents along the ceiling open, hissing following, though this time like air being sucked out. You slowly watch the pink mist in the room dissipate, the air units kicking on to hopefully begin filtering in fresh oxygen.

“C/S? Do you copy?”

“Yeah, yes, ma’am. I’m alright. Got a mask on, and looks like Alex just got the air filter up and running, but he took a blast of it. We don’t know what it was, but he’s conscious at the moment. No visible damage externally. He’s running a bad fever.”

“Understood. Captain Price and his boys are still wrapping up at the other facility. I’ll have them head to you, ETA two hours. Do we think Alex can make it that long?”

You look up at Alex, who’s leaning heavily against the wall, but he gives you a slow thumbs up.

“Affirmative. I’ll call if that changes.”

“Copy. Out.”

You switch the line off, pulling off the gas mask as you watch the last bits of pink gas suck up through the air vents, the system chugging for a few seconds before Alex flips the switch again and the slats slam shut.

He pushes slightly off the wall, mouth working like he’s about to try and speak before he collapses, toppling onto the ground with a grunt. You rush over to him, rolling him onto his back. He groans long and deep, arm thrown over his eyes and his other gloved hand pressed against his mouth.

“Hey, hey, Alex, talk to me,” you rush out, grabbing his shoulders and giving him a little shake. His hand moves from his mouth to grab your wrist, squeezing at you like he’s trying to ground himself.

“New symptom,” he grits out.

“Fainting?”

He chokes out what you could barely consider a laugh, making you wince as he slightly squirms in place.

“Southern blood flow,” he grins, though it seems forced, or maybe spiteful.

Your brow furrows, and it takes you a second to process what he’s said as your eyes slide down his twitching body.

“Oh…”

“Oh,” he parrots, “just my luck, huh?”

“Fucking—God. Alex, I’m sorry, this is my fault, I—”

“Shut up,” he huffs out, moving his arm from his eyes to rest above his head, staring up at you half-lidded. You raise a brow at him, a little thrown off. He’s not usually so… curt. Though you suppose he’s not usually lying beneath you rock hard, either, “shit happens. Rather be horny than dead.”

He’s still sweating immensely, and his pupils are still blown. You slide your hand from his shoulder, the one he’s still gripping, to his throat to try and feel for his pulse. You realize you can see it pumping against his neck.

You press your palm over the pulsing skin and Alex moans. You flush with embarrassment and try to pull your hand away, but once again Alex holds you firm with a desperate whine.

“Alex,” you whisper.

“Hurts,” he gasps out, and it almost sounds like a sob, “hurts when you’re not touchin’ me.”

“O-okay, just…” you place your other hand on the center of his chest and he shivers, hips bucking up into nothing. He tugs his own gloves off, trying to reach back, tugging at straps and belts on your uniform like he’s trying to get it off—trying to get at your skin. You let him, knowing he’s not gonna be able to get past any of it with the way he’s lying, not this uncoordinated.

“Please,” he says, begs, and the tone of it makes something guilty stir in your core, “please just—it hurts, Y/N.”

“I’m touching you, Alex,” you try, like reminding him will make it better. He only whines.

“S’not enough, fuck, just—” he twists around, pushing up onto his knees and grabbing your ankles to yank you forward, knocking you flat onto your back. He brackets your head with his arms, leaning down to hide his face against the crook of your neck, panting against your heated skin. His hips rock against yours, against your own crotch, and you can feel the outline of his hard cock through the fatigues.

“Stop me,” he growls out, grasping at your hips, squeezing hard enough to bruise, “if you don’t want this you need to stop me. Hit me ‘till I stop, knock me out, I d-don’t care just—”

He gasps as you tentatively run your hands under his shirt, the skin to skin contact making his body sing, before thumbing at the hem of his pants.

“It’s okay,” you whisper, feeling how he positively vibrates against you, “take what you need. S’okay.”

The permission sends him into a frenzy, shooting up to tug at your harness, barely managing to get everything undone with shaking hands as he slaps away your own attempts to help. He pulls your jacket off next, then your vest, and undershirt, desperate to get his mouth on you.

He latches onto your pec, licking and sucking at your nipple, making you gasp and cry out, back arching into the wet heat of his mouth. He fondles the other roughly, switching between them to provide equal treatment before he’s trailing down your torso, licking up the droplets of sweat that gather in the divots of your body.

You’re already tugging at your belt, unzipping your pants as he lowers and he grins, nipping at the jut of your hip bone before reaching into your boxers. His warm, sweaty palm wrapping around your half-hard cock makes you startle, hips bucking as he pulls you free from the confines.

He doesn’t even bother stroking, the blue of his eyes almost completely overtaken by his blown pupils as he takes you into his mouth. You choke on nothing, the wet, supple heat immediately overwhelming. He licks and sucks, hollowing his cheeks to create more suction, bobbing up and down your length like a man starved. You can see the movement of his shoulder—can see how his bicep flexes as he strokes his own aching prick. You realize quite suddenly he’s managed to get his pants and briefs off over his boots, the former kicked off to the side.

You place one hand on his head, tangling in his sweat-slick hair, and he groans, grabbing desperately at your other hand and guiding it to the back of his neck. He takes the slow rolling motions of your hips with ease, his throat ever so slightly bulging as the tip of your cock teases into it with each movement.

He moans and gags around you, and you only release him when he gives a pained whine.

As he sits up you can see his straining cock, fist still wrapped around it though now resting at the base unmoving. The swollen flesh is an angry red, tip leaking a continuous stream of pre. It looks painful.

“Can’t fuckin’ cum,” he grits out, and his dick pulses in his grip as he gasps, “I-I, fuck, I just feel… empty?” He says, voice lilting like he’s not quite sure. His brain is so foggy, nerves firing off non-stop, wires crossed. The psychedelic aspect isn’t helping in the slightest.

You nod, squeezing his hips, trying to gently coax him into your lap. He shuffles forward with ease.

“Do you think…” you begin, trailing off. You know he’s not truly in the right mind to consent—you know this is… well, all of it’s unethical, and probably very much against protocol, but, “Alex, can I fuck you?”

He groans low and long, forehead falling to your shoulder. He shifts in your lap until your cock is pressed to the seam of his ass, and he rocks slowly, experimentally, like he’s not sure just yet.

You pet at him as he moves, patient, kissing his neck in hopes to curb the contact his body so desperately craves. It seems to be working, with the way his cock twitches and kicks against your stomach as he grinds.

“Y-yeah,” he finally breathes, “please.”

“Have you ever done this?” You ask, and he scoffs like that’s the dumbest question he’s ever heard. And maybe it is, given the circumstances, but if this is something Alex comes to regret, you at least want to try and make it good for him. Something he doesn’t have to think back on with any pain or fear.

“Once, with a girl, though.”

“I mean—”

“I know what you mean. What I said.”

You smile against his neck, storing that little fact away for later interrogation. No one ever said Alex Keller wasn’t adventurous.

“Good,” you murmur, and he makes a small little noise at the word. You fumble for the lube you keep in one of your packs—benefits of a not quite field medic, “do you like when I praise you?”

He hums an affirmative as you lube up your fingers, teasing between his cheeks. He lets out stuttering breaths, hips finally stilling as you make contact with his fluttering hole.

“Mhm, wanna be my good boy, huh?” You say, and he groans, body falling lax at the words just as you slip a finger inside, earning another pretty moan.

He surprisingly doesn’t tense around you at all, if anything you’d argue he’s loose. You tease the tip of your second finger against him and he rocks back to take it in alongside the first, his brow pinched and eyes closed as he starts to fuck himself back onto your fingers desperately, making indignant little moans you know will haunt your wet dreams.

“Fuck, baby,” he whines, and the petname makes your heart flutter, something settling deep in your stomach and he claws at your back, panting hard against your neck, “y-you could just—please, fuck me, I—I don’t need the prep, I’m—”

He can’t get a full sentence out, stumbling over his words as he loses himself to the pleasure. When a third finger slips easily in you come to the conclusion the aphrodisiac must’ve loosened him up naturally, though it makes you wonder if the chemical is somehow targeted towards women if this is the result in a male.

You shake the thoughts away, cooing at Alex, trying to soothe him down as his body shakes violently against yours. You're scared he’ll hyperventilate, or dehydrate completely. You make him take a swig from your canteen, fingers still inside of him as he gulps down the water.

He empties the container, tossing it carelessly onto the ground. He slams his lips against yours and you gasp, giving him the opening to slip his tongue into your mouth. He hasn’t kissed you so far, and somehow it feels far more intimate than what you’ve already done to him.

“The table,” he mumbles when he finally pulls away, panting against your mouth, “fuck m’on the table.”

Your cock twitches where it’s trapped underneath him and he nearly smirks at the feeling as you dumbly nod. Despite his wishes he whines as you slip your fingers from his hole, and he grips onto you the entire time you get up and shuffle him over to the sterile looking table.

You try to push him by the shoulders to lay back onto it, but he squirms, spinning with his back to you before bending over—presenting himself.

“Fucking hell, Alex,” you rumble, and he whimpers softly, such a delicate sound coming from such a strong person as his hips rock back to try and entice you in. It doesn’t take much, if anything at all.

You plant your hands onto his hips and he gasps as he feels the head of your swollen cock against his hole. You’re careful as you slip into him, the both of you moaning as the velvety muscles wrap tight around your prick.

You slowly slide in, taking your time despite his protests, careful to keep from hurting him no matter how ready his body seems. You run your palms up and down his back, slowly lowering your weight over him as you push into the hilt with a low moan.

“Okay, baby?” you murmur against his ear, and he nods, cheek pressed flush to the cool tabletop and mouth hanging open like a panting dog as he takes big gulping breaths.

“Please,” he begs, and it’s all you need to grip the edges of the table and begin pounding into him. He immediately cries out, eyes rolling back as your cockhead rubs along his prostate with each passing movement, your balls slapping roughly against his as you gain momentum.

His muscles spasm and flutter around you, seeming to tighten up as if they’re trying to fit to your cock, and the thought makes you dizzy with it. You feel so flooded with arousal you wonder if for a moment you did inhale some of that gas—or maybe this is all a dream and you’re currently on the ground foaming at the mouth.

But Alex moans so beautifully, each line and crease of his face accentuating his sharp features. He’s blissed out, you can see the glaze over his eyes, and you hope to God this is enough to fix whatever’s coursing through his blood right now.

You feel that familiar knot in your stomach as the pleasure settles deeply. You grit your teeth, moving to a slower but more brutal pace to try and curb your impending orgasm.

“You feel so good, Alex,” you try, hoping to get him closer to the edge with praise, “so fucking tight around me, sweetheart, you’re doing so good.”

He chokes out something caught between a groan and a sob, nodding his head as tears prick in the corner of his eyes. They never fall, but they make his eyes look so glassy—vulnerable.

“Look so pretty when you cry,” you can’t help but coo, and the words mixed with the perfect thrust of your cock against his prostate has him crying out, back arching up against your torso as he finally, finally cums.

It goes on for quite a bit, about forty seconds as his body spasms, and you reach down to stroke him through it, trying to help ease what you can only imagine is both a relief and a slight pain as his body finally releases.

You go to slip out of him, having completed your task, when Alex reaches back and weakly grasps at your hip, trying to tug you back in.

“Wan’ it inside,” he mumbles, and you bite back a groan.

“I don’t want to—”

“Please,” he whines, and you think maybe if this is something designed for women, that it perhaps feeds off of instinct to breed. That this might be something his body needs to feel for his brain to finally settle.

“Okay,” you whisper and slide back into him, his low whine making your cock twitch as you make shallow, quick little thrusts into his fluttering hole.

It doesn’t take long for you to come, having already been so close to the edge, and you gently bite down on his shoulder as you do, arms wrapped around his torso to hold him tight to you as you fill him.

Alex sighs, and he finally sounds content. He’s no longer laboring for breath, and while he’s still sweating you can feel his body temperature starting to drop back into a safer range.

He seems content to lay there for a little longer, and honestly you don’t blame him, the both of you catching your breaths as you come down from the high.

#modern warfare #modern warefare 2 #alex keller #alex keller x reader #alex keller x male reader #alex x reader #mine #smut #personal prompt

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asimplearchivist · 1 year ago

Text

' 𝕊𝕥𝕒𝕣𝕘𝕒𝕫𝕚𝕟𝕘 '

𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐕 𝐨𝐟 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐏𝐑𝐈𝐌𝐄, 𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐒𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐊.

[𝓪𝓼𝓲𝓶𝓹𝓵𝓮𝓪𝓻𝓬𝓱𝓲𝓿𝓲𝓼𝓽'𝓼 𝓶𝓪𝓼𝓽𝓮𝓻𝓵𝓲𝓼𝓽] [𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐍𝐒𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐌𝐄𝐑𝐒 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓] AO3 | SPOTIFY | PINTEREST summary ✴ ⤏ you find optimus musing about the past while surveying earth's celestial sphere. you try not to let your personal feelings impair your ability to comfort him. pairing ✴ tfp!optimus prime/reader | (past) tfp!optimus prime/elita one word count ✴ 9.9k a/n ✴ ⤏ everything happy always happens in the first season, sometimes part of the second season if you’re lucky. this takes place right before the omega keys arc hits full swing but right after optimus receives the message from alpha trion via the star saber. (around/between “legacy” and “alpha; omega”.) it’s the moment of serenity before the storm, you could say.⤏ I've had this fic gathering dust in my drafts for years bc there should have been three more parts between it and 'yosemite falling,' but I'm updating my docs to word files in preparation to transfer everything off my old pc to a new one (which I haven't had a new pc in nearly fifteen years so I'm anxious as hell bc I don't handle change well but I'm also excited so???) and I figured 'what the hell, I'll go ahead and post it since I've been trying to clean out my drafts anyway. ⤏ the word ‘inamorata’ (italian, I believe) is legitimately perfect for optimus referring to elita one and you can pry that out of my cold, dead hands. t r y m e. (and yes, this also implies that optimus knows latin because he’s a giant n e r d .) ⤏ I also used lots of nods and references towards @ss-shitstorm’s backstory for op and elita in fortuna primigenia because she is optilita god. (the only striking difference is that ‘bee isn’t biologically theirs - they just kind of took him under their wing when he was still fresh off the press.)

Something was off.

You sighed softly and opened your eyes, taking in as much of the darkened hangar as you could before you yawned. The kids were sound asleep, as was the Autobots’ newest recruit (who had somehow managed to curl himself around the haphazard circle of sleeping bags and cots in a rather impressive imitation of a cat), and when you looked over you saw that Ratchet was still tapping studiously away at the main terminal, optics dimmed and distant as he worked. When your eyes adjusted you could see that it wasn’t the Iacon encryptions, but what appeared to be a personnel file. You saw a small picture of Smokescreen on the upper left-hand corner and figured Ratchet was either reading in on Team Prime’s most recent addition or filling out a medical file. Either way, it was way past the medic’s bedtime.

You looked back to the slumbering foursome, taking in how Smokescreen’s doorwings fluttered minutely in time with an occasional ex-vent. You smiled warmly at the sight. The newest recruit hadn’t quite found his place among the Autobot family yet, but with how well he got along with the kids you figured it’d be no time before he wormed his way into the elder soldiers’ hearts. You just hoped he wouldn’t take to Miko too much, because you’d sensed a mischievous streak in him the moment you’d found out he’d managed to convince Jack to pull a Miko.

It’d gotten Optimus the Star Sabre, but...that wasn’t the point.

The girl had wanted to hit off Smokescreen’s arrival with a bang, in the only way she thought suitable for someone who knew nothing about Earth - introducing him to slumber parties. He’d been all for the idea, jumping headfirst into the activities it entailed despite him not knowing a single thing that was going on. He’d loved the movies you four had picked out, and had picked up on the concepts and plots surprisingly quickly.

Ratchet hadn't been too enthused about all the ruckus going on, as one would expect, but Optimus had made it a point to soothe him when the medic would begin to grumble too loudly. It was a brief reprieve for the other Autobots, who’d been rather tense of late and needed a little night of fun, and it served to better acquaint them with their newest addition. Bumblebee seemed to get along with him fairly well, and Arcee seemed to regard him with a constantly exasperated but amused air. Bulkhead...acted amiable enough on the outside, but you worried about him. His near-fatal injury and subsequent recovery had hit him hard, and had hit his spirit harder. You’d thought to call Wheeljack to help lift the green ex-Wrecker’s spirit, but...you didn’t think the others would be nearly so inclined to welcome him back so soon after his day trip with Miko. And you’d seen the way Bulkhead’s demeanor would fall whenever he thought no one was looking - you hoped that he would bounce back soon.

You slowly sat up, being careful to make as little noise as you could manage as you slipped out from beneath the blankets and rose to your feet. You padded silently past the recharging Autobot, holding your breath when he twitched and made a soft noise. He settled down almost immediately after, doorwings flaring and closing slowly. It almost reminded you of a butterfly at rest.

You relaxed when you got closer to the main computer terminal, breathing out softly as you reached out and placed a hand on Ratchet’s pede. He jerked minutely under the unexpected touch, peering down until his optics found you.

He ex-vented, straightening and returning his attention to the screen. “I’m almost finished. Go back to sleep.”

“You can finish it in the morning,” you murmured back, patting the warm metal beneath your palm affectionately. “A couple more hours of recharge than usual isn’t going to hurt you, Ratchet.”

He paused, his mouth pursing briefly, and you worried that he was just going to shoo you away and keep working. He surprised you by ex-venting long and low, hitting one last button and closing the file before letting his servos fall from the keyboard.

“Fine,” he muttered, tone weary and all too telling. “Fine.”

You smiled gently. “Get some rest, you stubborn old mech. You’re going to need it if we’re keeping the overgrown puppy over there.”

He scoffed softly, but you didn’t miss the curve of a smile he was trying to hide. “You should as well. Who knows what diabolical plot Miko has devised for tomorrow’s activities.”

“I hope she doesn’t drag out the Monopoly board,” you muttered, smirking up at him. “We may as well kiss another Autobot goodbye.”

You shared a stifled look of amusement before you both cracked and chuckled.

“Sleep well,” he said, turning and walking quietly towards the open corridor.

“Sweet dreams, Ratchet,” you returned, watching him go. A sense of peace settled over you and you gave the hangar a visual sweep. Everything was quiet.

But...something still felt...off. You couldn’t put a finger on it, but…

Well, you were still a bit tired. You wondered if you could catch a few more hours with Optimus - you were already mostly awake, but being able to hear his spark whir and his engine rumble beneath his plating always helped soothe you back to sleep.

Optimus wasn’t in his quarters. Everyone else was (even Ratchet - you’d checked), but the Prime was nowhere to be seen. It was odd because Optimus was always somewhere within the base doing something - the only time he wasn’t was when he went on patrol, but he always let you know when he was leaving and would sometimes invite you to accompany him if it was somewhere with little to no risk-factor. But this was unusual. He’d just...disappeared.

It was irrational to think so, because you knew he wouldn’t have left without pretense - but it was something about how quiet the silo was, dark and empty besides the kids (and Autobot) slumbering in the hangar. You could almost hear Bulkhead snoring from where you were, the sound still ringing in your ears since you’d wandered through the hall leading to each of their quarters. (It’d just about scared you to death, the entire corridor dead quiet then filled with an inhuman roar unlike any you’d heard before - it was only after you’d plastered yourself into the nearest corner, trying to keep your heart from beating itself out from between your ribs, that you realized it sounded like Bulkhead.) But the silence, nigh oppressive in its grip, reminded you too much of the long three months that Optimus had been under Megatron’s influence as his past self, memories gone in wake of spending the energy of the Matrix of Leadership on forcing Unicron back into stasis.

You had a sudden, irrational apprehension bubble low in your stomach, and you began to search the base.

He wasn’t in the corridors, or the relic vault, or the energon refinery. He wasn’t in the storage room, or any of the other massive, unused warehouse-type rooms. He wasn’t even in Ratchet’s private lab, which had been your last idea. You even checked his quarters again, just in case your eyes had been screwing with you and you hadn’t actually seen the gargantuan red and blue titan lying on his berth. The entire base was lacking one Prime, and you were getting worried enough that you were starting to consider going to wake Ratchet up to help you find him when you reentered the main hangar and your eyes alighted upon the large metal platform that served as an elevator of sorts, along with its human-sized counterpart that Fowler used when flying in.

Maybe…

As you climbed the ladder up to the platform and sized up the elevator, you crossed your fingers and hit the button with an upward-pointing arrow. The doors slid open smoothly and without a sound, fortunately, and you breathed a sigh of relief as you cast a brief glance over your shoulder at the kids to make sure they were still asleep. Satisfied to see that they were, you stepped inside and folded your arms as the doors shut again. The machine rumbled to life quietly, and the sudden tug of gravity had you drumming your fingertips anxiously against your arm as you ascended.

A few moments later, it stopped. The doors opened once more and a cool gust of air made you shiver. The night was dark and it took a few moments for your eyes to adjust, but when they did you paused. The sky was an inky black, moon a sliver of a crescent but glimmering a bright ivory all the same. It cast a ghostly silver glow across the relatively flat top of the silo, the sand and stones washed out from their usual rich red. It was a bit difficult to distinguish anything of the horizon from the dark skyline, but the glimmer of metal gleaming under the moon near the edge of the mesa caught your attention.

There he was.

You breathed out softly, suddenly feeling not so confident. He was fine. He was probably just taking a moment to himself, enjoying the peace and quiet. You wished that he was resting, but you understood that having much privacy in the silo was sparse when you had three other giant mechs (now four) and one femme occupying it. Optimus had always been quiet by nature, so it made sense to you that needing it occasionally would be part of it, too. (...It made you wonder why he offered for you to go along with him on his patrols alone, honestly. That was probably the only me-time he ever got, save for moments like these.)

Your worry satisfied for the most part, you debated on returning to your makeshift bed and trying to get a few more hours of sleep. You were tired, and your eyes were heavy, and you weren’t sure why you’d woken up to begin with.

A heavy ex-vent, audible even from where you stood, caught your attention before you heard a soft, low rumble that was unmistakably Optimus’ voice. No one else was out there, so the fact that he must’ve been talking to himself made you pause. His words were unintelligible, and you pondered on whether you should leave him be or confront him. But the note of sadness in his tone made your decision for you.

You padded across the mesa, shivering as the breeze picked up a bit and tugged at your hair teasingly. You wrapped your arms around yourself, rubbing the flesh of your arms with your palms and trying to keep your teeth from chattering. The closer you drew to the Prime, the more distinct his voice became - but you quickly realized that he was not speaking English. It could’ve only been Cybertronian. You’d heard snippets of it before, brief mutterings and stressed exclamations from the others. And you could only describe it as music.

The tones and harmonics of his voice seemed to rise and fall and mingle as he spoke, rolling and chittering and rumbling through syllables that held no meaning to you. It sounded like he even used his engine to add depth to the sounds, his voice cutting through the air with its deep bass. It seemed deeper, somehow - it sounded as though it were coming directly from his chassis and pouring out of his vocalizer.

It was the most beautiful thing you’d ever heard.

You were suddenly struck with the desire to learn it, but you reasoned that it would be practically impossible. Mechanical beings such as the Autobots were simply more capable of producing more sounds that humans could, in that they could use more of their already more flexible vocals than humans were able.

But the thing that struck you most about Optimus’ indecipherable words was how mournful he sounded. The subtle whistles and whirs and trills descending through the syllables were distinctly sad, and you finally stopped walking when you were a few yards behind him.

"Optimus...?"

He stopped abruptly. You watched as he stilled, his digits sinking into the sand beneath them slightly. He slowly turned, and you swallowed when his optics, dim but still brilliant in the dark, focused on you.

"Sorry," you blurted, shame flaring in your face as you dropped your eyes and clutched at your arms. "I - I couldn't find you earlier, so I just - I wanted to make sure you're okay, but I can - I can go now, if-"

He murmured your name, a gentle serenity against your fluster. It calmed you embarrassingly quickly. "...you are not disturbing me. I was...merely pondering aloud." He turned his servo over and made a gesture for you to come closer. "Please, sit."

You did as he bade you, shuffling forward and settling in the dirt a healthy distance away from him. His servo came to rest in the dirt once again, and you were enraptured by the subtle motions of him tracing circles in the fine, dry grains.

"...difficulty sleeping?"

You blinked, craning your neck back to look up at him. His expression was curious, and mildly sympathetic. "Hm? Oh, uh..." You brushed your hair back out of your face, inwardly grimacing at how oily it felt. "I...I woke up and couldn't go back to sleep. Thought I'd find you. I...I hope you don't mind."

"Of course not," he responded. "I did tell you that you could seek me out should you ever need me, did I not?"

"Yeah," you said, biting back the urge to 'sir' him. He'd told you before not to worry about formality with him. "I just...I didn't want to irritate you if...y'know. I didn't want to overstay my welcome."

"You could do no such thing," he assured you, his tone almost frustratingly soothing in how it instantly relaxed you. "You are always welcome to confide in me."

You sighed softly, dipping your head in an attempt to hide your smile. "Thanks, Optimus. Really. That means a lot more to me than I can say."

"You are more than welcome." And God, when you looked back up and caught the subtle smile playing at the edges of his optics and mouth, you swore you felt all the blood in your body rush up into your face. "I am here for you, always. Even when it may seem as though I am occupied with other things."

You nodded, his gentle words relaxing you. You shifted closer to him minutely, wondering just how a small, insignificant being in a world full of people such as yourself could've ended up with the privilege to know Optimus and have his support and confidance.

And then you remembered his sorrowful tone from mere moments earlier.

"...You know, I...you can come to me, too," you said tentatively, trying to look at him steadily but failing when he tilted his helm slightly and God he looked absolutely ethereal in moonlight- "I mean, I know I'm not the best person out there for advice, and I probably wouldn't be much help in the long run, but...I like to think I'm a good listener." You bit the inside of your lip and reached out, pressing your palm against the flat planes of the digit nearest you. "I'm here for you, too."

He studied you for a long, silent, nearly suffocating moment, optics taking in your face and form, expression unreadable. Then he ex-vented, long enough that the warm air gushed over you and made you shiver. His demeanor softened and you relaxed with he gave you a warm, grateful look. "I appreciate the sentiment. Thank you."

"You're more than welcome," you echoed with a ghost of a smile, your insides fluttering as he returned it.

After a split moment, you tore your gaze from his and exhaled, taking in the landscape stretching out before you for miles. The moon cast a silver glow across the desert, making it look otherworldly with the long, inky black shadows and subtle traces of nocturnal life stirring. The stars were breathtaking so far out from town, speckling the sky like iridescent dots of paint glittering against the dark expanse of night. A breeze picked up from the east, making you shudder minutely. Optimus turned his servo up on its side, shielding you from its chilly grasp.

"So..." You nibbled your lip, trying to break the silence. "...what do you think of Smokescreen?"

Optimus seemed to stew on your question for a while before responding. "...He seems to have much potential. But...he is young and has much to learn. Earth poses a challenge to him, as well as learning to be discrete among humanity. He doesn't yet understand that there can be dire consequences to war. But..."

You quirked a brow. "But?"

"...But I find his outlook to be good for morale, though unfortunately it seems to be having a negative effect on the others. They consider him naive, and while it holds merit, he is more than that. He still has hope. He still has courage, though it has the tendency to be...misplaced." Optimus paused for a long moment, looking thoughtful. "It gives me faith that there is still a chance we can end the war."

You nodded, folding your hands together and twiddling your thumbs. You studied the gooseflesh on your arms, soaking in his words. You felt his gaze return to you.

“And what do you think of him?”

You directed your gaze to the sky, tilting your head in thought.

You liked Smokescreen, in all honesty. You liked him a lot. He was zealous and bright and energetic and had such a sunny outlook on the world, looking at Earth as something new and fun and adventurous. He’d already made several inquiries to both you and the kids about humans and your culture, listening intently to every answer and explanation. He seemed to absorb everything he heard from everyone, and he was always eager to learn and help the other Autobots with even trivial things.

Honestly, it was...refreshing. He was fresh meat, you could say, but you hadn’t realized just how exciting getting to know an alien could be - not to say that the others weren’t, just that they’d already had a basic understanding of the high points of human culture when you’d met them (no thanks to Agent Fowler, in all likelihood). You hadn’t had to explain the process of eating or sleeping or going to school to them (excluding the Satan's Waterfall Incident), but Smokescreen was a whole other ballpark. You’d worried he would have a processor crash when he’d asked why ‘those tiny round organics’ were so different, and were they related to you humans? Having to explain a human’s life cycle had never been on your list of ‘Things To Expect When Making Alien Friends’, but Ratchet had mercifully been there to help translate it into something comprehensible to the greenhorn Cybertronian. Luckily he hadn’t gone into the production of said ‘tiny round organics’. You weren’t looking forward to giving a being several hundred years older than you The Talk.

“I think he’s going to fit in well,” you said finally, looking back up and meeting the Prime’s gaze. “We’ll just need to catch him up on Earth stuff first.”

“Jack has made a good effort thus far,” Optimus said, “but Smokescreen still has much to learn of Earth and its inhabitants." He raised an optical ridge. "I have noticed you've been educating him on some things.”

You flushed. "Yeah, I, uh...he always comes to me with questions, for some reason. I'm not really the best person to go to for stuff like that but I try my best."

"You seem to do fine," Optimus told you. "He has come to me, as well, but it seems that he struggles keeping himself composed when in my presence."

You laughed a bit at that, easily perceiving the puzzlement in his tone. "Optimus, he worships the ground you walk on. You're his hero. I can understand why he'd get so flustered around you."

He blinked, optics rounding minutely. He genuinely looked surprised.

"What, did you think people don't admire you?" you asked, a dubious half-smile twisting your lips. "You're inspiring, and honest, and gentle...all of us respect you. It's hard to be as good of a person as you are and we all look up to you because of that. It's hard not to like you."

His optics brightened significantly and he looked away, engine rumbling quietly. He was obviously at a loss for words.

Humble, too, you thought with a soft smile. And entirely too cute.

You gave him time to recollect himself, continuing to take in the quiet, peaceful air around you. It struck you as odd, sometimes, how different things could change between night and day. You were actually chilled, where you'd be sunburnt and struggling for breath had the sun been out instead of the moon. You'd be able to see distant cars on the highway, but instead you could see the faint glow of Jasper City's lights on the horizon. It wasn't enough light pollution to harm the starfield above you, thankfully, and you began to pick out the constellations you knew of that you could see.

Sirius...Ursa Major...Ursa Minor... Your eyes lit upon a familiar row of three stars, and you grinned to yourself. Orion.

"Did you know we have a constellation called Orion?" you asked, glancing up towards the Prime next to you.

"I have heard of it," he responded, seeming to have finally regained his bearings. "Though I have never taken the time to find it myself."

"There," you said, pointing and directing his gaze towards the general vicinity of the formation. "Those three stars in a row. His body is kind of shaped like an hourglass, and his arm's above his head holding a club. See it?"

"...I do." He tilted his helm, seeming to take it in. "It has to do with Grecian mythology, does it not?"

"Yeah," you affirmed enthusiastically. "His full name is Orion the Hunter, and I think the Greeks considered Sirius to be his dog. He battled a bunch of monsters, including Scorpio, but...I don't really know much else." You looked back up to him. "Did your old name just happen to translate to Orion or was it the closest equivalent you could find?"

Optimus' optics lit up slightly at the question. You wondered if he enjoyed discussing languages or if he just liked answering questions in general. "My original name in Cybertronian stood for ‘hunter of peace’, or so I’ve been told. Orion Pax was the most basic translation that could be made.”

You smiled at the knowledge and, recalling the rumble of his native tongue from minutes earlier, you hesitated. “Could you...what does it sound like? In Cybertronian?”

“I spoke Iaconian before the war began, seeing as it was where I was placed after I was forged. I learned Cybertronian Standard after the war began, which became the normal method of communication to prevent misunderstanding.” He shifted minutely, resetting his vocalizer, before letting out a low trill of syllables overlaying each other in a smooth, pleasing roll. "That is my name, in Iaconian, and in a self-identifying context."

Your brows rose with interest. "Does that mean you have different dialects? And different meanings for the same word?"

Optimus' expression warmed. "There were many dialects before the war, but the provinces had their own primary languages. Standard was used for trade and political interactions. And yes, some words or phrases change slightly depending on who is saying them. For example, my name would sound slightly different if Ratchet were to say it as opposed to one of the others because of how long I have known him as my oldest friend." His optical ridges pinched slightly, mouth pursing in thought. "It is...difficult to explain. But Cybertronian is incredibly complex compared to many Earth languages."

"Well, that's probably because you have a different vocal range than we do," you supposed. "I...I heard you, earlier - I wasn't trying to eavesdrop or anything, believe me - and it's not like I could understand anything you were saying anyway," you amended hurriedly. "But I noticed you were using your engine to make sounds, too."

Optimus dipped his helm, optics glowing in praise. "That is a very astute observation. We use it for filler noises of varying sorts."

Relieved that he didn’t seem to have taken offense to your (half) accidental overhearing, you sagged with a soft sigh. You found it in yourself to smile up at him dorkily. “That’s so cool. There’s so much about your culture that I don’t know, and...” You chuckled softly, shaking your head. “It’s kind of overwhelming to think about. I mean, Earth has over seven thousand languages, not to account for all the people and cultures that speak them. Every country has their own dos and don’ts and there’s just so much for just one person to handle. We’re lucky if we can learn more than one or two languages.” You looked out towards the stars again, wondering if you could see Cybertron from so far away. “And then, to think about your planet, too, on top of that…”

He hummed softly. “...Part of what I enjoyed most about being an archivist,” Optimus rumbled, “was that I never stopped learning. There was always new information, or old data waiting to be discovered in the Hall. I was often teased by my coworkers for leaving late and coming early so I would have time to myself among the tomes and files.” You glanced up at him and saw that he, too, was gazing at the starfield stretched out above the both of you. “I...was devastated when Iacon fell, and further still when the Hall did. It felt as though the last vestiges of home - the last semblance of assurance and safety - were taken from me.” He was silent for a moment. “But coming to Earth has helped, in a way. There is still much to learn, and I’ve enjoyed reading what I can about your planet. It...fascinates me, how vastly different everything here is to Cybertron,” he admitted, his optics flashing faintly. “I enjoy being here, despite...despite our circumstances.”

What a nerd, you thought, stifling the creeping sense of sadness low in your belly. At least he didn’t hate his arguable prisonhouse. (You couldn’t say the same for the others, though - particularly Ratchet.)

“I know it’s unlikely that it’ll ever happen again,” you began slowly, tentatively. His optical ridges quirked in curiosity. “But I’d love to see Cybertron if I ever got the chance. You always make it sound so beautiful.”

Optimus, while he looked somewhat pleased with your confession, deflated visibly. “There isn’t much to see, I’m afraid,” he responded quietly. “According to Arcee, time has rendered it in a worse condition than we left it.”

“Still,” you were quick to rebut firmly, “it’s your home. Even if I could just see a snippet of it for myself, it’d be worth it.”

Optimus regarded you a long moment, optics shuttering in thought. Then, his mouth lifted the slightest of margins. “Should that ever happen, unum parvum, I will be the first to show you.”

Something in the way he rolled the ‘r’ in the distinctly foreign word gave you the impression it was Latin or of Latin descent, but you wouldn’t doubt it if it was some sort of Cybertronian word, either. And even though you didn’t remark upon it, for some reason it still flustered you. So, out of your head as you were, the first words that came to mind were the ones that left your lips (unfortunately). “It’s a date, then.”

As soon as you said it, you felt the bottom of your stomach drop out and your face was engulfed in invisible flame. Much to your shock (and relief), however, Optimus merely chuckled - actually chuckled, which - while you were delighted to hear it coming from him for once - didn’t help the butterflies in your stomach at all, dammit-

“...will be sure to keep it in mind, should Alpha Trion’s message hold merit,” he said.

You recalled the events that had happened not too long prior, how the Star Sabre had begun to glow an ethereal blue and, with it, Optimus’ optics. He hadn’t elaborated on it any further than what he’d already shared - the Omega Keys and the possibility of being able to restore Cybertron (at least, not with you or the kids).

Despite your tendency to let the Autobots’ private, important matters lie, you had to admit that you were extremely curious. It could mean the war as you and they knew it.

“What did he say?” you inquired.

Optimus’ mouth pursed and he seemed to consider his words, his digits twitching beside you minutely. “He gave me the information necessary for the acquisition and use of the Omega Keys, but shared little else.”

You narrowed your eyes. Something in the way his optics shifted when he spoke didn’t sit right with you, but you had no right to demand answers from him. You trusted him, and you wanted him to trust you, too - and that included knowing when to keep your mouth shut and your suspicions to yourself.

His shoulders dropped, though, cutting off any words you could’ve said. “It...troubles me,” he admitted, ex-venting heavily. “It seems there has been such little time since my...lapse in memory, and yet so many things have happened since. Time seems to be slipping from my grasp, and…” His digits twitched, as though on reflex. “...there’s little I can do to retrieve it. I have tried accessing the memory banks stored within the Matrix, but it seems that restoring my full memory until I forced Unicron back into stasis overwrote what I experienced on the Nemesis.” His expression pinched. “I would have been able to access the relics much sooner had I been able to remember.”

“Optimus…” You blinked, taken more than a little off-guard at how readily he’d cracked his armor open, even if it was only just a sliver enough to see into his inner thoughts. You just hoped you could offer something worth his time. “...I think in some ways it was for the best.”

That seemed to catch his attention, as his optics refocused on you almost instantly.

“I mean,” you started, your face warming, “I would rather you have a tiny gap in your memory over you not remembering anything at all. Can you imagine what would’ve happened if Jack hadn’t been able to access Vector Sigma in time? Or missed the opportunity to restore your old memory?” You rubbed at your arms, not wanting to dwell on the possibilities of what could have been. “Even if we had managed to have gotten you back without using the Key, I don’t know that things would’ve turned out the same.”

“Most definitely not,” he agreed.

“But…” You dipped your head, studying the sand beneath you. “Everything happens for a reason. We were still able to accomplish what we have since we got you back, and I feel like you’re still as strong as ever, even if you are missing a few memories.” You risked a glance up at him. “And, for what it’s worth...I’m just happy you’re okay, and there wasn’t any severe damage from expending that much energy. It could’ve turned out so much worse, and I think we were blessed to scrape by with such little trouble.”

“I didn’t have the impression that the time I was absent constituted as mere trouble,” he rumbled. His optical ridges were furrowed in worry. “You were all in danger, severely so, and I wasn’t there to…”

“Optimus,” you pressed gently. He fell silent, watching you attentively. You swallowed. “What’s done is done; what’s gone is past. You can’t dwell on what’s happened because even you can’t stop and alter time. As cool as you are.” You squeezed his digit in hopes of it being a comforting gesture. “Just focus on all the good things that have happened since then. We got a new Autobot, and we managed to get ahold of some of the relics. You got your memory back, and you’re home with us and not with the Decepticons.” You tilted your head slightly. “I think we’re blessed, despite the circumstances. I feel blessed.”

Optimus studied you for a long, long moment, optics shuttering and flickering as he thought intensively. After a while, he lifted his helm back up and studied the horizon once again, and you felt that that particular branch of the conversation was now closed. The air shifted, and you shifted closer to his leg in hopes of getting a little warmer.

Silence followed, peaceful and still. You studied the stars, picking out constellations you weren’t normally able to see due to sheer light pollution, even finding your zodiac sign among the glittering expanse at one point. But even though you’d seen his tight expression ease somewhat after you’d finished talking, Optimus still seemed...off. Absent, maybe. Distant. His optics were dull, unfocused, and dimmed. His demeanor was not his usual careful neutrality. Instead, he just seemed...empty. And it worried you.

“Are you okay?” you asked softly, sincerely. He blinked, optics brightening somewhat as he turned his helm to gaze down at you. “You still seem…” You pondered on the right word, nibbling the inside of your cheek before settling on the simplest word that came to mind. “...troubled.”

Optimus remained silent, gaze unwavering. He only returned his optics to the horizon before you both, still oddly emotionless. You began to worry for him in earnest, apprehension bubbling low in your stomach, before his digits clenched minutely on the sandy earth beneath you. In a voice softer than you had ever heard from him, he murmured, “In all the centuries that this war has stretched its hand into, this day remains to be one of the worst that I have known.”

You blinked in surprise, not having expected anything quite like that. You didn’t know what to say, wondering if it had to do with the events in the past week - Smokescreen arriving, the Star Sabre. Maybe it had to do something with Alpha Trion’s message? You’d never heard such plaintive despondency in his normally soothing rumble. It caused sadness to reverberate through your body in an instinctive, sympathetic response.

Optimus, fortunately, did not discontinue his train of thought in lieu of your lack of a reply. “There have been immeasurable losses on both sides,” he continued, softer still. His optics were distant again, unseeing. “So many lost to the tides of bloodshed and hatred - enemies and friends alike. Family.” His helm dipped minutely, the light in his optics fading until you could scarcely make out their glow in the dark. “Inamorata.”

Never before had you heard that particular word, nor were you certain it was even English, but something in the way he said it - the enunciation, the tone, how it left his glossa and lip plating - struck you as deeply intimate and plainly implicative of its only possible meaning.

You lowered your eyes to the hem of your shirt, plucking at the cloth and thread stitching. “I didn’t know you...I didn’t…” You bit your lip. “I...I’m so, so sorry, Optimus.”

He fell silent for a long time, and you were too saddened to risk seeing his expression. You could feel it in your gut - saying the wrong thing, or doing the most minor action could tip this over the edge and result in more hurt than good. Better to let him address it than risk you bungling it up with your...self.

“Your sentiment is greatly appreciated,” he said finally, genuine and quiet. “More than you know.”

You finally plucked up the courage to look at him, and found that his optics had regained some of their normal light. His face was drawn, though. Restrained. As though grasping at his self-control more than he usually did.

You suddenly felt very, very small in comparison to the massive servo resting on the ground between you and his seated form, the long, flat digits dragging shallow but broad furrows into the dirt.

“What was she like?” you asked finally, not knowing what else to say. You almost regretted speaking as soon as the words had left your mouth at the resulting ex-vent that left his frame and washed over your body. You shuddered at the warmth of it, your flesh prickling at the sharp contrast against the cool night air.

You almost didn’t expect him to answer your half-hearted attempt to divert the conversation away from the obviously traumatizing event he’d probably been dwelling on, but he tilted his helm back and focused his gaze on the stars twinkling silently above the both of you.

“She was...everything.” He paused a long moment, seeming to gather his thoughts. “She was brilliant, and bright, and always had an anecdote to offer. She always seemed to smile, no matter the situation.” His optics dimmed suddenly, optical ridges lowering minutely. “I found that she was also a fierce and dedicated warrior when needed.”

You clasped your hands loosely around your arms to fight against the chill of the night seeping into your flesh, studying his demeanor and movements. You’d never thought that Optimus would’ve had someone, even before the war, but now that thought just made you feel ridiculous. Of course Optimus’d had someone - who wouldn’t have wanted him?

“How did you meet?” you asked, trying to fight against the sudden tightness in your throat. “Was it still when you were an archivist?”

You didn’t expect him to respond as quickly and as easily as he did. “Yes. Though it was through rather...unsavory means,” he said slowly. His optics perked back up, however, and you could see the faintest suggestion of a smile softening the lines that had appeared from his frown. “She was a scientist, a naturalist, and a part of a group that was attempting to defend the natural flora and fauna of Cybertron, long before the war when the Council was attempting to expand the cities and populated areas to accommodate for newbuilds. They were protesting outside the Hall, and I was sent by my peers to settle them down and attempt to dissuade them from loitering. They claimed I was the most capable mediator and peacemaker, but I suspect that they simply didn’t wish to deal with the issue themselves.”

“Coworkers,” you remarked.

“Indeed,” he agreed lightly. “When I emerged from the Hall, they were already agitated by a few enforcers trying to get them to leave. I attempted to calm both sides, but someone threw a rather sizeable waste bin at one of the enforcers and struck me accidentally. I woke in the hospital where Ratchet worked, and there was a rather irate femme arguing with him.” Optimus nearly smiled, nearly revealed his denta, and his optics were borderline sparkling. “That was my Ariel.”

Never before had you seen Optimus with such an open expression. No longer was he hiding his inward self under layers and layers of armor and formality and restraint; there weren’t any subtle cracks in his demeanor to hint at what was going on in that helm of his. He feelings were laid bare, open and plain as day to see, and it was something you were struggling to comprehend. And it was nothing like you’d ever been able to draw from him.

“She apologized, once she realized I had come back online,” he continued, seeming not to notice your shell-shocked stare. “Ratchet began to lecture her, but I dissuaded him. It didn’t seem that it had been intentional, though I did admonish her for attempting to harm an enforcer. She claimed she’d simply been attempting to get them to leave.” He tilted his helm back, gazing upwards. “After that, she would visit the Hall occasionally. We discussed our respective fields of study, and she was dedicated to her cause unlike any naturalist I had met. She was fiercely intelligent, witty, and wouldn’t hesitate to let one know exactly what was on her mind.” His digits gripped the ground slightly, as though looking for purchase. “She was the most beautiful femme I’d ever met in my life.”

You pursed your lips, wringing your hands before settling them on your lap in tight fists. “Sounds like she was good for you.”

“It took a long time to build a friendship,” he murmured. “We were similar in some ways, strikingly different in others. But some things are best built gradually.” He looked down to you, catching your eyes. “Wouldn’t you agree?”

You hesitated, biting the inside of your lip fiercely. You tried to quash the low simmer of emotion in your belly, doing your best to offer him a smile. “I do.”

Optimus’ expression shifted minutely, softening, and he released the ground before curling his digits around you carefully. The warmth seeped from his servo into your chilled flesh and you leaned against the firm metal gratefully. Your face warmed with a mixture of shame and puzzlement. There was a knot low in your belly, but you couldn’t determine the cause.

“It sounds like she made you really happy,” you murmured, half to yourself. Optimus hummed quietly.

“We became conjunx endurae shortly before the war began,” he rumbled, a mite more somber. “Sparkmates, I believe is the term you’re more familiar with. A more intimate equivalent to a spouse.” His thumb pressed into the flat of your back, nearly engulfing you, and he began to rub small circles between your shoulder blades that seem half-minded. “She took on the name Elita One when I became Prime. I...I lost her the same day we fled Cybertron. She didn’t make it to the spacecraft in time. She was defending a medical envoy attempting to flee off-world.” When you looked up in concern at the drop in his voice, you saw him grimace and press his other servo to his windshield plating, the faint echoes of pain plainly written on his face. “I felt it, before the reports ever came in. The feeling of my spark being severed from hers, shrinking and dying...it was the worst thing I have ever experienced. Worse than...worse than anything, in all of the war.”

That was something that had never occurred to you before, as obvious as it was. Ratchet had explained the concept of sparkmates to you briefly at your curiosity, and you’d been enraptured by the idea that two mechanical beings with such a unique core as a spark would combine them and, essentially, give pieces of themselves to each other. Over time, the sparks would gradually grow into each other until, potentially, they would be nigh indistinguishable from each the other. But you’d never thought about what would happen if one passed before the other. Ratchet had stated that if sparkmates had been bonded for a long enough time and one of them passed prematurely, it could endanger the surviving spark and potentially drag it down with it.

But here Optimus sat, and that in itself was an assurance that he’d come out of it mostly all right. Physically, at least. The emotion was palpable in his voice, the air felt unbearably heavy around you. His optics had dimmed and his servo was still pressed tightly to his chassis. You wondered if it felt like ghost pains - like when someone lost a limb and their brain still tried convincing them it was there.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered, because you honestly didn’t know what else to say. You’d never experienced anything quite like that, couldn’t offer any advice or true sympathies - this was one thing that you couldn’t help him with, but...a part of you was grateful (and more than a little humbled) that he’d still decided that he trusted you enough to share his pain, no matter how old and scarred over, with you of all people.

Optimus seemed to withdraw from his inner thoughts, optics shuttering as they refocused on you. He dropped his other servo to rest on his thigh, the flat of his thumb dropping to the small of your back.

“It was a long, long time ago,” he responded finally, voice more even than it had been. Still, you didn’t miss the lingering, subdued inflection. “It has become...bearable. But…” The corners of his mouth upturned, just so, and you felt an odd, warm prickle - something like static - brush against the back of your neck. It made you shiver. “...being here helps more than one might would think. And...you…” He paused, thoughtful. He dipped his helm. “...you have shown me that it would do no harm to take time to myself, to reflect and decompress, and...I owe you deeply for that. I had forgotten how.” His optics glowed with the smile he would not outwardly show. “You’ve reminded me how to meditate on the past without dwelling on it, when I thought I had lost all meaning of it. Thank you.”

Your face felt as though it were on fire. You floundered for words, mouth dropping open and closing several times before you settled on clenching your teeth together and clutching your shirt for dear life. “I…” You swallowed. “...you’re welcome,” you managed feebly.

Optimus’ engine rumbled, the sound comforting in and of itself, and he returned his gaze to the stars again. You let out a soft exhale, shifting to slump against the solid curve of his thigh. He adjusted his servo accordingly, draping it lightly over your frame to protect you from the chill. You closed your eyes, resting your cheek against the cold metal.

Something occurred to you, silly in that you hadn’t thought of it sooner.

“...You were talking to her, weren’t you?” you murmured.

Optimus was quiet for a while, but you weren’t particularly looking for a verbal answer - his silence was answer enough.

You heard him ex-vent, felt the air shift slightly. His digits tightened over your form minutely. “...I still feel I carry a part of her with me, despite her undoubtedly being one with the Allspark,” he explained softly. “It...helps. Death is a distance unlike any other. Today’s date is...it is when I lost her. When we left Cybertron.”

Nibbling the inside of your lip, you peeked up at him. “You must miss her a lot.”

“I do. But I have accepted it. Perhaps one day I will see her again.” He dropped his helm, gazing down into the desert below the mesa. “I...do not possess supernatural beliefs, despite my ties with Primus. But she made a promise to stay with me, once, before the war began, should she ever be parted from me prematurely.” He let out a quick ex-vent that could’ve been a half of a chuckle. “There have been myths of lingering sparks, that those departed would resist the pull of the Allspark and continue to watch over those they care for, though they are believed to be just that. Rumors of seeing shadows of frames out of the corner of one’s optic, or flashes of light that some believed to be sparks have even been recorded in ancient texts - but science as we know it has proved it to be impossible. Still, I…”

He trailed off, if not a little uncertain, and your expression softened. You tried offering him a wry smile. “That sounds like will-o-the-wisps,” you remarked.

Optimus raised a curious optical ridge.

“It’s an old English myth,” You explained. “A lot of people believed that they were spirits of the dead lingering around to guide people - whether it was to good or bad places depended on different interpretations. But they’re actually just little sparks of discharge in the air.” You shrugged, contemplative. “It’s interesting that we have a similar concept of it.”

The Prime hummed in agreement. “Yet another instance where our culture seems to have passed itself off to yours through time.” He paused. “...Sometimes I feel as though she has been with me. Moments on the cusp of recharge, or overwhelmed in a battlefield. I refuse to believe that she is truly gone.”

“That comes with having faith, I guess,” you murmured, chewing your lip. “Optimus?”

“Yes?”

“You know it’s…” You pressed a hand to his palm, wondering if you should say it. You decided that being plain wouldn’t hurt, just this once. “...it’s okay to grieve, Optimus. No one would be able to hold it against you to mourn for your wife.”

Optimus stared, mouth opened slightly. He went to speak, hesitated, stopped. Then ex-vented shakily. “Perhaps in a different context. But...I am a Prime, the leader of the...I cannot…” He shook his helm, mouth thinning. “I cannot afford to leave those under my command at risk because of personal distractions.”

You blinked, brows rising. “Elita wasn’t a distraction - she was part of you, Optimus,” you told him, as though he needed to be reminded. “She was ripped away from you and they expected you to go on like nothing happened?”

He dropped his helm, tilting it away from you. His optics closed, tightly. “Others who had been bonded far longer than I lost their sparkmates,” he said softly.

“That doesn’t matter,” you persisted, sitting up on your knees and propping yourself on his leg. “You lost the love of your life, and you had to bottle it up, just...just because you were ‘obligated’ to a war you didn’t start. That’s bullshit.”

The armor along his shoulders drooped, tightening against his frame as he cracked his optics open enough to peek down at you. Your heart clenched when you realized he looked confused.

You fumbled for words, opening and closing your mouth fruitlessly. The silence was tense, heavy, and you felt as though you could cut it with a knife.

Finally, you gave him as gentle a look as you could possibly make. And, softly, you said, “You deserve to be taken care of, too, Optimus.”

He looked stricken, wordless as his gaze shifted back towards the desert beyond the mesa. The corners of his optics tensed, his mouth twitching downward. He looked so, so sad, and...it hurt every part of you.

A brief silence. Then Optimus rumbled your name. “...may I ask you a question?”

“Yeah,” you answered softly, closing your eyes and dropping your head.

“How do you do it?”

You frowned. “...Do what?”

“Present yourself with such sincerity. Openness.” The flats of his digits pressed into your front faintly. “You make it seem easy.”

You blushed, turned your head downward. You smoothed your hand over his palm. “I know that if I expect vulnerability from people, I should show myself vulnerable. The same applies to friendliness. Making meaningful connections with people means making compromises, even at the expense of comfort and privacy sometimes.”

Optimus hummed quietly, sounding pensive. You heard his vents hitch briefly, before air gushed from his sides. Your name was low on his lips. “...Would you...assist me in being more vulnerable?”

Your eyes shot open and you lifted your head to stare at him. He met your gaze, optics dim and expression tentative. Then a slow, soft smile wormed its way onto your face.

“You already are,” you told him gently.

He blinked slowly, optical ridges rising faintly, before his mouth lifted just so. “...In that case, I...I owe you thanks.”

“I didn’t have anything to do with it,” you responded, shaking your head.

“You had everything to do with it.” His thumb pressed into your back, a pleasant pressure that cemented his looming presence. “You have shown yourself vulnerable, and...in doing so, reminded me how to be.”

You opened your mouth. You closed it. Opened it again, voice weak. “You can’t use my words against me, Optimus - that’s not fair.”

He chuckled. Honest-to-God chuckled. You felt your heart swell.

“Perhaps,” he responded finally. “Or perhaps I appreciate your thoughts more than you realize.”

You tried offering him a noncommittal shrug, face burning. “Yeah, well, give me credit in your book of memoirs when all this blows over.”

Another chuckle, a little louder and a little longer. “I will certainly remember to do so.”

He paused when you yawned softly, trying to conceal the gaping maw of your mouth by clamping a hand over it. When you glanced up at him, mildly embarrassed, his expression was warm with what you’d dare to say as fondness.

“...You remind me of her, at times,” he told you softly.

You heart jumpstarted. “I...I do…?”

He dipped his helm minutely. “You share similar mannerisms, and you seem to have her innate ability to analyze information and offer the best advice. You have her fire, on occasion, as well,” he chuckled. “But at your core, you have a gentle soul, as she did. It comforts me to see that trait remain in people despite everything I’ve endured. Despite everything that has happened to you.” He paused, regarding your dumbfounded expression, then seemed to become a mite sheepish. “But that isn’t to say you aren’t unique to yourself. You are quite unlike any human I have had the privilege to interact with on a personal level.”

“...’Quite unlike’ good or ‘quite unlike’ bad?” you asked, quirking a brow and trying to smile wryly.

He lifted an optical ridge as well, the corner of his mouth turning upward minutely. “I believe you needn’t my say in it - you are aware of what lies within you better than I.”

You tried rubbing the flush out of your cheeks. “Thanks, Optimus.”

He hummed quietly, stroking a slow circle into the flat of your back. Then he turned his servo over in the sand when you yawned again. “I believe it is time for you to rest,” he told you gently.

“Try to, anyway,” you mumbled, but you crawled into his palm anyway. He curled his fingers around you and you grasped his thumb for support as he cradled you close to his chassis and slowly, carefully righted himself to his feet. Your stomach flip flopped for an entirely different reason then, peering between his flat digits towards the ground that was suddenly very, very far down. Despite this, however, and despite the instinctual fear thrumming beneath your flesh, you knew you were safe. Optimus had never and would never drop you.

But instead of heading for the elevator like you’d expected, he instead stepped closer to the edge of the mesa. You gulped when he lifted his servo and tilted it so you slid slowly against the massive column of his neck. You grappled onto a plate that descended towards his windshields, blinking up at him with your heart rising in your throat. Optimus crouched, turned, and lowered a pede towards one of the small shelves of rock beneath him.

“Optimus?” you pressed, voice hitching into a higher octave as the desert stretched out below you both. “What - what are you doing?”

Optimus hummed, frustratingly soothing. “The elevator is too loud for use at night.”

“So you climb a cliff?” you squeaked, his frame dropping with a slow but inevitable descent and leaving your heart in the roof of your mouth.

“It is something I’ve always enjoyed,” he shared calmly. There was a feline-like quality to his movements, well practiced and assured. Still, it was obvious he was being more cautious - probably on account of you. “I must admit that I climbed many a building I shouldn’t have in my youth.”

“You? Breaking the law?” you said, relaxed just enough to focus on him instead of the ground below you. “Scandalous. What would the others think?”

“I fractured my frame once,” he remarked absently, shaking his helm. “I went to Ratchet for help.” He paused, looked down past you, and his optical ridges furrowed as he considered the available footholds. He steered to the left instead, then took another step downward. “I did not make that mistake again.”

You laughed. “What, falling or going to Ratchet?”

The corners of his mouth lifted, but he did not specify. You laughed again, trying to smother it with your hand. His chassis thrummed and, slowly, he continued to descend the mesa’s side. You peered over his shoulders towards the stars to distract yourself, curling into him as best you could. You both lapsed into a comfortable silence, his optical ridges drawing together in concentration as his optics shuttered and contracting as he focused on his every movement.

It didn’t seem long before he paused, reached up to drape a servo over you protectively, and pushed himself off and away from the mesa. You squeaked as he fell, your stomach jumping into your throat - he landed with a jarring crash, though he allowed his knees to buckle to absorb the impact. You felt woozy, but climbed up onto his shoulder proper as he walked in through the hidden entrance and crept down the corridor with astounding near-silence. You smothered a yawn as he emerged into the hanger, staying close to the edge of the room and lifting a servo for you to climb onto. He lowered you to the ground, and you stumbled on weakened legs before righting yourself. You smiled up at him, hoping you had helped him in some way, to some degree.

The warm glow in his optics and the faint smile on his faceplate told you that you’d succeeded.

You patted his pede quietly. “Goodnight, Optimus. Sleep well.”

“And you as well.”

He stood there as you lingered, hesitating, as you padded across the hanger and returning to your cot. Smokescreen had flipped over at some point, somehow not managing to crush his doorwings in the process, Jack’s mouth was wide open as he drooled, Raf was curled into an unidentifiable ball underneath his blankets, and Miko had lost hers completely, sprawled out like a corpse at a crime scene.

You chuckled to yourself, settling back down and slipping under the blankets with a soft sigh. They were pleasantly cool against your skin, and the cot felt softer than it had before. Maybe it was because you were more tired.

As you pulled the covers over your chest and adjusted your pillow, you cast a look towards the three story metal sentinel in the corner, his optics beacons of light like those fabled wisps of old, silent and waiting. On a whim, you gave him a little wave, offering a shaky smile. You saw the slightest hint of denta before he lifted his servo and returned the gesture before stealing his way into the hall and out of sight like a shadow.

You were glad, because if he’d stayed much longer he would’ve seen how you slowly buried your face into your pillow and wept quietly for him, for everything that had happened to him, for what he’d had to endure for so long without being able to reach out. For the spark-deep weariness that seemed incurable. For the war.

For Elita.

And because part of him would always belong to her.

#fisara's codices #fanfiction #transformers #transformers prime #transformers: prime #tfp #tf prime #optimus prime #reader insert #optimus prime/reader #optimus prime x reader #optimus prime/you #optimus prime x you #ao3: your prime his spark #ao3: stargazing

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