#holy god i never thought this would EVER happen
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deadsetobsessions · 1 day ago
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Short DPXDC prompt #2, from @stealingyourbones.
“It’ll be good for you!” Dick threw an arm around Tim’s shoulders as he beamed his way through Gotham U’s campus.
“I could have done this online. They have virtual degrees. I could have hacked my way into one.”
“Yeah, but then you wouldn’t get the authentic experience!”
The group arrived at the dorm building, one of many, and Damian gave it a dubious once over.
“If this is authentic, I refuse to be a part of the locals.” Damian quietly remarked, before peering cautiously at Dick. “I have obtained my degrees. I do not need this experience.”
“It’s really not that bad, guys.”
“How would you know? You went to Blüdhaven for college.” Tim retorted with the voice of a young man resigned to despair. “You lived off campus and your door pin was Zitka’s birthday, month first then date second.”
“… Tim, why the fuck do you know that.”
“When I knocked on your door, that was just common courtesy. I didn’t actually need you to open it. I could have opened it myself.”
Dick’s smile brightens even further, with the light of an LED bulb instead of his usual sun, and places a hand on Tim’s head. “You’re creepy sometimes, you know that?”
“And you’re careless sometimes, you know that?” Tim groused. “Ugh, whatever. Let’s just get this over with. I can’t believe I’m going to have a roommate.”
“It’ll be fun! And if it isn’t, you can always swap roomies. We have enough pull to have that happen.”
“Doubtlessly.” Damian said. “This campus barely passes the bar of acceptability. Why is the campus like this. Why is it incorporated into the city.”
Tim smirked. Even though Damian spoke with formal language only found in the highest of echelons of society, Jon’s influence was beginning to make itself known. Good for him, the little shit. Privately, Tim thought the presence of a Kryptonian brought out the better sides of a bat. God knows Kon did, for him.
“Okay, enough whining you two! Let’s get Tim settled in.”
Tim elbowed Dick in the gut and kept walking into the building as his big brother wheezed dramatically. Damian rolled his eyes- he’s seen Nightwing take harder hits than Drake’s pointy elbows and walk it off- and followed. Unbeknownst to them, Dick all but beamed with joy at their solidarity. His plan was working.
——
Tim settled into the dorm, disgruntled at the small and uncomfortable twin mattress. The dorm smelt of faint mildew, had at least ten safety code violations, and had ventilation that probably hasn’t been cleaned since the last fear gas attack. The vent thing honestly might explain the state of Gotham U’s students and their proclivities to become supervillains. Tim is more tempted to go into villainy than ever before with these conditions.
That is, until his roomie walked in.
Step 1) reboot brain.
Holy shit, his roomie was HOT.
Step 2) notice all the weird things his roomie all showed unconsciously. Too graceful. Walking carefully, like how Kon does sometimes when he’s remembering to be careful with his fragile surroundings. Meta? Too sharp teeth.
Wait. Sharp teeth?
“Uh, hi. I’m Danny. You must be my roommate. Tim, right?” The guy, Danny, had a deep voice. And too sharp teeth. Because he smiled. It was a damn nice smile.
Step 3) bi panic. DID TIM MENTION HE WAS HOT??
“Uh. Hi. Yeah, I’m Tim.”
“Cool. What’re you majoring in?”
“Forensic Analysis. You?”
“Aerospace engineering.”
They looked at each other awkwardly. “Cool, I’m just gonna set my stuff down.”
“You’re not from here, right?” Tim asked and promptly flushed when an amused smile gets thrown his way.
“The accent give it away?”
“Yeah. Uh. You want a tour, man?”
“Sure. Thanks.”
——
It was flashes of things.
“Oh. I don’t go anywhere without my thermos.” Danny smiled, patting the dented thing. Except, Tim’s never seen him drink from it.
Or:
“Oh, woah. Food’s not attacking me.” And the thing is, Danny actually looked apprehensive before poking at the cafeteria food.
What??
And a month passes before Tim realizes he’s one hundred percent absolutely fucked.
Because it’s one thing if it’s an extremely attractive dork with brains and humor.
It’s an entirely different thing if the extremely attractive dork with brains and humor was a complete and total mystery. Tim is an absolute sucker for mysteries. It’s even more attractive than smacking him in the face with a brick!
“Hey, Tim?”
“Uh. Yeah?” Tim screamed at himself. He’s dated like fifteen different people! Why the hell is he so awkward with Danny?
(Tim was always awkward. He has that autistic rizz.)
“Tell me more about blood splatters?” Danny asked with a hopeful smile. Tim folded like wet paper. (It helps that he knows a lot- too much- about analyzing blood splatters.)
——
Outside of their window, Nightwing cackled to himself. It was worth using the Wayne name to get Tim the most interesting college kid Dick could find as a roommate. Who said Tim had the market corner on stalking anyways?
Nightwing flipped off of the roof, all but skipping home.
Robin, his patrol partner for the night, grimaced. For all Richard was his favorite, the man unsettled him at times.
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rhettmotel · 2 days ago
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Sin Worse Than Whiskey
Summary: With a preacher father and the threat of Hell, it's no wonder that you repress your longing to feel comfortable in your body. When Rhett returns to Wabang as the youth pastor at your father's church, both of you have repressed sins that you can't keep down.
Pairing: Rhett Abbott x AFAB!Reader BUT reader is a repressed transman and Rhett is a repressed bisexual
Rating: nsfw content, 18+, mdni!
Warnings: Talk of religion and homosexuality as a sin. Heavy religious themes, talk of body dysphoria and self hatred for both Rhett and reader. Use of slurs and talk of "fixing" yourself as in "praying away the gay"
Word Count: 635
Author Note: Please make sure you read the warnings provided. If you like my writing and would like to support me, I'd really appreciate if you would check out my Ko-Fi. I use these donations to help with the cost of groceries. If Ko-Fi is not your thing, I also have a list of things I use at Uni. That being said, Please don't feel any pressure to support; just a simple reblog also helps. ❤️ This was inspired by The Starling Girl, Preacher's Daughter by Ethel Cain, a little bit by Midnight Mass and with lots of gentle encouraging by @sebsxphia I love you ❤️
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"Remember when you said if you were a boy, you'd want to look like Rhett?"
"Shut up!" You grunt, pushing your sister on her shoulder.
"Girls!" your mother shouts, already way ahead of you and at the car.
It was true, you had said that, but that was in the comfort of your bedroom, not for your sister to be blabbing about where anyone could hear.
There had always been lingering thoughts in the back of your head about what it might be like to live as a boy with short hair and a flat chest, but that was never going to happen.
Once, when you were young and stupid, around twelve, you asked your mother why you hadn't been born a boy and how you wished you had been. This had gotten your mother irrationally angry, ranting at you about how God made you exactly as He wanted you to be and to change anything would be blasphemous. After that, you never brought it up again.
You wanted to be good and holy; you wanted to get into heaven like the rest of your family. You tried to forget about those feelings and even tried to counteract them by dressing and acting as girly as you could. It was going pretty well, too, until Rhett Abbott came back to town again.
Your father, the preacher at your church, had hired him to look after the youth worship and although you were eighteen now and no longer part of the youth group, your father asked you to sit in and observe instead of just letting you have the job. You had argued with him about it for quite a while, but he just kept saying that you needed to observe someone else doing it before he trusted you to do it.
"Don't ever say that out loud again,” you hiss at your sister, low enough for no one else in the van to hear. Who Knows what your parents would do if they heard you or anyone else speak those words again.
The first time that you sit in on the youth group, Rhett can’t seem to stop looking at you. It was probably just because you were neither a youth nor a pastor and still sitting in on his group, but his eyes still made you shift in your seat.
“Why are you in the youth group?” Rhett asks as most of the children are filing out of the room. “You’re eighteen now, ain’t you?”
“I am,” you nod with a soft smile. “I’m just here to observe.”
Rhett looks at you for a moment, then his face softens. “Ah. Did I take your job?” He asks, swallowing a swear word that threatens to escape just after he realizes.
“No, No,” you hold up your hands, not wanting the older man to feel guilty about doing the job your father clearly thinks you are unfit for. “To tell you the truth, I don’t think my father would’ve given it to me anyway,” you admit, trying to push out a soft smile that doesn’t look too sad.
 “I’m sure that’s not true.” Rhett shifts awkwardly on the linoleum floor, and his shoes squeak to fill the deafening silence, “I’ll… see you tomorrow?”
You frown. “Youth group is only held on Sundays.”
“I know I just… I thought since your dad was the preacher and all, you’d be coming to daily mass. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to assume,” Rhett apologizes.
The truth was, you’d never gone to daily mass before. You’d always been in school just like your younger siblings, but since you graduated from one of the strictest Catholic schools in all of Wyoming, now would be the time. “No, I… I’ll be here tomorrow,” you nod, walking before you can embarrass yourself further.
—— Thanks for reading. Chapter 2 will be coming at you next week ❤️
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deckosbades · 2 days ago
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Preparation: I have a bag of lays potato chips, a (which I will eat later, potentially after both films), I am also brewing tea and I have my water filter in my fridge. I have seen Babe Pig in the City, or maybe the original Babe(1995) at least partially on television, and am familiar with the oft referenced phrase "that'll do pig that'll do".
I am currently recovering from a bout of pneumonia, and am taking a break from gaming because my controller doesn't quite work right. If this film makes fun of neurotic gamers of sickly Victorian chimney sweeps I will be upset.
The first streaming website I tried had the worst bitrate I've ever experienced so I had to swap only two minutes into the film.
4:01 Did the farmer just fucking die??? 4:18 Okay he didn't die, he's just terribly injured 4:46 That's a gnarly hand injury 5:02 I am the singing rodents 5:58 I hate these white dudes. For now I'm gonna just stop writing my thoughts and experience Babe Pig in the City (I definitely lied when I said this and started writing notes again) 9:36 Word spread fast to all the sheep. They must be big gossips 11:55 Decent amount of flight safety for a pre-9/11 film 13:00 Can't trust cops, even when they're dogs 16:30 Love the pig man and the singing rodents 18:55 This woman is lovely 20:47 California has lovely architecture 23:44 Racist orangutan? 25:59 Video player begins buffering indefinitely, have to swap again 26:10 I was worried for the little rats. I'm glad they're okay. 26:40 Those cops just got cooked. 27:10 Cooked twice 28:04 This is just like Ranma 1/2 36:19 Average American gun club 39:01 Open Sesabob 42:20 The amount of action in this movie is thrilling. I didn't realize how hardcore Babe was 43:26 The dog actor is so happy. Just look at his tail 44:31 For some reason I didn't think pigs could swim 45:07 Holy shit That's brutal 45:27 Babe knows right from wrong 🥲 50:07 streaming sites just aren't what they used to be �� I'm feeling almost biblical imagery from this scene. Pig is the saviour figure 51:33 What a polite fish. He still feels the beauty of kindness as well 56:14 Goth pig is some drip The other pigs are here 😒 1:01:08 Was the first Babe movie this sad by the two thirds mark? I am deeply saddened right now. 1:01:54 He's got a fucking gun holy shit 1:02:40 Ableist pound 1:05:27 Name drop 1:05:52 Babe really is a saint-like figure Or perhaps a moses figure 1:08:14 These pig men are consistently wonderful people 1:09:44 Thelonius has experience the original sin. 1:11:45 What a sad day it is when internet streaming sites aren't reliable. My anime streams are much more consistent. If I had my VPN or I wasn't on college internet I would have just torrented it :( 1:12:00 I hate nimbies 1:16:07 I have finished my potato chips 1:20:51 Just give her the damn pig 1:21:55 He is dedicated to protecting the champagne 1:23:00 I love this film. Thank the pig 1:24:08 The struggle is never ending 1:27:00 He said it :)
Preparation: I have finished my lays. I am going to start Poor Things (2023). I know nothing about this movie. I also have a bottle of water prepared.
Not sure what connection there is between these films. I will have to watch and see
1:13 Quilted introduction images 3:48 Is that Willem Dafoe? 4:19 Many weird things happening. Piano playing with feet on the keys, odd vocalizations and bubble creation. No English spoken so far. Chimera animals, and fisheye lenses. I do not believe that is Willem Dafoe It is Willem Dafoe I checked 10:18 So far a deeply uncomfortable film in comparison to Babe Pig in the City 11:30 I would describe the cameras and imagery as almost myopic. 15:58 This feels like a Greek tragedy 16:33 Willem Dafoe was definitely the right casting choice 18:42 Again a deeply upsetting film. A challenging work of art for certain. 22:21 The film is interested in theatre imagery. I think Babe is similar in a way 23:21 God that looks disturbing 27:30 This is definitely one of the films 29:15 I would not describe what is happening as a positive romantic relationship 32:47 The combination of 20th century value adherence and 21st century value avoidance is what adds to how uncomfortable the film is. 35:21 I fear she might kill him 35:34 This film also seems interested in heights. 36:59 Oh goodie, cutting up brains 38:49 She seems to have a powerful understanding of herself and her surroundings but not of other people or societal norms. 41:08 Oh gosh, the first color shot in the entire film. Did they teach her what contraceptives are? 41:55 Oysters always struck me as an erotic food for some reason. 45:05 I did not realize how much scifi was present 46:01 As the film and her understanding of reality expands it feels like the framing and the cinematography does too? Like the audience is experiencing the film from her POV right now. 47:40 Reality is both beautiful and upsetting 50:30 Bella's so real But also Again, this film can be described as myopic. Everyone is so focused on one detail or themselves. 53:47 First character to recognize Bella, her real name is Victoria Blessington 54:42 The music is once more deeply unsettling She is again dancing childishly but it's so macabre 56:48 Films like this make me very anxious, I must keep watching. 58:17 Very surprised he has not yet brought her bag to Godwin 58:56 He told her not to fall in love with him, and she was really good at that I think. 1:00:26 This film is deeply interested with fucked up family relations. 1:01:27 You could not have paid me to get into that chest 1:04:05 Feels like a theater set again, but that seems completely intentional. 1:05:15 Just remembered that she is developmentally a child and she is currently drinking a lot of alcohol 1:08:05 "Polite society will destroy you" you said that first Duncan 1:09:20 You broke the man's heart Bella 1:10:04 They found another????? 1:10:19 She has found transcendentalism it's over 1:10:50 "It is indicative in me and it is definitely indicative in all" she is so real 1:11:25 I love the way she creates similes 1:13:57 No shot what the fuck 1:15:55 A slow exploration of so many human ideas. Birth and death, love and sex, and kindness and cruelty. 1:17:35 Showing a child impoverished dying children. 👍 1:23:00 Interesting seeing her handwriting is still childish, but her art is beautiful. It was shown in a previous shot. 1:26:26 I don't know how to put my feelings about this film into words consistently anymore 1:27:55 No music, just ambient creeking. Incredibly uncomfortable once more. 1:36:56 A very catholic idea 1:38:15 Good joke. I am happy with how much French I remember from middle school. 1:41:15 Freud would be having a field day 1:41:58 "c'est vrai" -> that's true 1:42:20 He's still here? 1:43:18 She has the craziest insults 1:43:45 I was starting to believe they would not come back to these two. 1:47:15 This movie utilizes its soundtrack so well 1:48:26 Big decision to provide no subtitles. Middle school French once more paying off. 1:51:58 Crazy visuals. Lowkey reminds me of filmcow 1:54:15 I am compelled to be intrigued 1:58:33 Once more, Freud would be incredibly proud 2:01:13 I am enraptured 2:04:17 Holy shit 2:15:40 They put a goat in him holy shit
Final thoughts overall: Reviewing my notes I see some similarities. First I'd like to say that IMDB was wrong when it rated Babe Pig in the City a 5.8/10. It was good, and I liked watching it. First thing I think is interesting about Babe is how biblical all the imagery felt. I described Babe as a Christ like figure, but that's not accurate I think. Definitely feels biblical though. Like Babe demands religious iconography. Babe is purity and innocence and kindness. I also liked Babe's voice a lot. All the animal actors did great jobs also.
In comparison Poor Things felt biblical and also didn't. It couldn't have been an accident that Bella refers to Godwin only as God. He is definitely playing god, but it didn't feel like a religious genesis story in the same way. It felt more like religious transgression. I wrote down around the 16 minute mark that Poor Things felt like a Greek tragedy, and I still feel that way after completing it. Maybe not a Greek tragedy, but if you transplanted some of the ideas in Poor Things into Greek mythology I wouldn't bat an eye. For both I don't actually know how much of that is vibes, and even how much of it was intentional.
In terms of characters, I think both Babe and Bella are interesting characters because of how innocent they are. And how they cause a lot of trouble in a lot of situations with good intentions. Bella definitely scared me a little bit more (I thought she would kill someone, and I was surprised that more characters didn't die in Poor Things honestly speaking). Babe also plays a little bit with that sense of discomfort. When Thelonius talks about how Babe is a pig meant for human consumption, and then Uncle Fugly kidnaps him, I was more than a little bit worried about Babe! Poor pig! I was also surprised that they outright killed uncle Fugly. In a way Babe was a little bit more brutal than Poor Things. I think you were right to say that Babe had one of the most brutal animal drowning scenes.
In terms of plot structure, a lot happens in both films. Babe goes form farm animal, to entertainer, to heist distraction, to Christ figure, and that's only a little bit past the halfway mark. Bella similarly accomplishes a lot even by the halfway mark. I do see parallels for the events, where they are on some level both fish out of water stories, and I am constantly left worrying about Babe and about Bella because they don't always understand the consequences of their actions or their circumstances. Thelonius is similar to Willem Dafoe. Both are good films that on different levels left me compelled and a little bit confused.
okay i know i got some followers out there who have nothing better to do. Can you watch babe pig in the city and then follow it up immediately after with poor things and get back to me on your findings
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humantome · 7 months ago
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oh my GODDD HE'S GONNA BE REAL i cannot take this
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littlepetbee · 2 years ago
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keferon · 23 days ago
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Chapter 2 of Blurr storyline >:D
“Actually” says Swerve ”I'm an alien.”
“Heh” giggles Blurr ”sorry, my head is all cloudy, I thought you said you were an alien.”
Part one
Holy shit I actually managed to finish it…..Oh. My god.
Under the cut⤵️
Is it stupid to miss someone who doesn't even exist?
Probably yes, but hey, Swerve already has several degrees, might as well get another one. A degree in Stupidity or something. Who cares?
For the first few days after waking up from his coma, he feels like he's going crazy. Everybody has realistic dreams, right? The ones where you can scrutinize every angle, memorize every face and smell and sound. The ones that make you lie still for a while after waking up, grasping at every thing you can. Trying to memorize everyone you meet, imprint them in your head.
Because apart from your mind, they don't exist anywhere else. So that's your only way to keep them.
It never works. Obviously. Details slip away. Impressions fade. Just a couple days, and you won't be able to recall anything but the main events from memory.
Wait, hell, not days. Cycles.
His life is a weird, pathetic, fantastical circus. Earth term. Heh. There are no circuses on Cybertron, haha!
But Swerve remembers. And the word circus, and the smell of asphalt, and rains that were made of water not acid. Remembers the English language. Can speak it fluently, even if you wake him up in the middle of the night.
Remembers his work schedule and remembers which company makes the best details. And Tailgate with his bright blue uniform and Wheeljack with his endless experiments and Swindle with his expensive coat and of course...yeah, no, don't think of Blurr, don't think of Blurr, don't. Don't.
He'd heard about it. Read about it, too. Mechs waking up from comas and doing wild things. Some forgot how to speak at all, some gained a new skill, some lived a whole life while they slept.
Articles tell Swerve, don't worry, what you've experienced isn't unique. The doctor tells Swerve that the same thing has happened to others before you, it will be okay, it will pass.
Swerve isn't sure he wants it to pass.
He's been in a coma for who knows how long. The medic said it was caused by an internal trauma that decided to suddenly get worse. One minute he's recharging , the next he's gone. Internal injuries are insidious.
So it turns out. One day he just disappeared from the world because he was busy slowly dying in his room and no one noticed until a thief tried to sneak in. The only one who came to him was a Mech who wanted to steal his stuff. Huh.
That feels revolting. Swerve liked to think he had enough friends. Or at least enough good connections. Enough those who should have noticed his absence, right?
Apparently not. His shifts at work were reassigned, his contacts never texted him first, his...
His small persona wasn't important enough for anyone to notice his disappearance.
Would his human coworkers notice? Would Tailgate have noticed? Or Jazz? Swindle?
Jazz would have noticed, he was always surprisingly attentive when it came to his friends. And he was friends with just about everybody.
Swindle would probably get upset about the money he'd lost.
It's amazing how much his brain-- wait, no, his processor. How much his processor could create to entertain him. It's a more elaborate world than the most complex series Swerve has ever known. And that scrap had forty-six seasons and fifteen encyclopedias!
People, Earth, a bunch of new languages and rules and all for the sake of the end being like, OOPS! ...it was all a dream. Hilarious. Worst plot twist ever. Swerve hates it when stories go in this direction even more than when they kill off their characters.
In his humble opinion, death is better than the revelation that none of the experiences made sense or had any value. In terms of writing scripts obviously. Haha.
He's busy roaming haphazardly through his own memory. He's looking, comparing, trying to find inconsistencies or things that don't make sense. All the stuff that usually gives away the fact that what happened was a dream.
Most of his memories are occupied by--No. Frag.
Don't think about Blurr, don't think about Blurr, don't think..
He's thinking about Blurr. A lot.
Blurr occupies a surprisingly important role in his comatose dreams.
In the time he spent just looking at him, you could hand-build an entire Mech. Maybe even three. Swerve remembers picking up every bit of merch he could reach with his paycheck. Watching hundreds of videos and buying every new themed drink even if it was a flavor he didn't like.
Then spent a surprising amount of time resenting Blurr for not living up to his fantasies.
Blurr's behavior hadn't helped either, of course, but now, looking back at the past himself Swerve thinks that.. Oh wow. You weren't just annoyed at him. You blamed him for ruining your beautiful fantasy. You were having so much fun entertaining yourself with thoughts of this marvelous image, and he came along and corrupted it. Poisoned the well you drank joy from.
But that's not quite true, Swerve thinks.
Blurr was more complicated than that. But exactly how, he'll never know. All he has are his memories, and those memories are cut short at the most interesting point.
Swerve knows this plot twist. The asshole character that no one loves at the last second turns out to not be what everyone thought, but it's too late.
Oh no, he's not an evil jerk, he's actually traumatized. Oh no, he wasn't bad, he was actually secretly helping everyone. You thought he was awful? Well now you're going to feel awful reading fanfics.
Serevus Spayne didn't actually betray the main character's dad, no no, he was in love with him! Bam. Drama.
Swerve isn't a big fan of this stuff. He likes his characters developed properly. But he can't deny the appeal of a character leaving behind a bunch of questions you thought you knew the answer to.
Uggh.
The doctor was wrong. These thoughts don't go away. These memories don't dull.
Swerve just boils in them, constantly getting stuck in his own head. Sometimes he puts English words into his speech and everyone looks at him strangely. Sometimes he reflexively says some inside joke and no one gets it and he's left standing there with an awkward smile. Because. Guys, you don't understand, if my coworkers were here they'd think it's hilarious. I promise, in my fantasy world, it's funny.
When he gets a job on one of the Autobot ships, he accepts it thinking it might be a good distraction from his thoughts.
When he happens to see Prowl with a tiny human on his shoulder in the corridor of that ship, he thinks he's lost his mind.
The whole thing. The whole load-bearing structure on which his picture of the world has been held suddenly gives a lurch. Living your life in a super realistic dream is wild, but meeting a character from your dream in real life??
Freaking cursed.
Jazz looks puzzled by his reaction, but all Swerve can think about are two things.
One, if Jazz is here, does that mean everything else was real, too???
Two - holy shit, Jazz is tiny.
It never occurred to him. But he didn't really know what size humans were. Well, sure, he could measure it in numbers. But he was among humans himself. And about the same size. He was generally even shorter than most of them.
If Jazz is so small, he can't imagine how tiny Tailgate would be. Or--
He can feel his spark freeze. In fact, he can almost hear the sound of a string breaking in his processor. Does that mean Blurr is real too? Real and just as tiny and currently dead? Because Swerve was there but was too convinced it was all just a dream to help?
He's going to get sick.
He needs to talk to Jazz right now.
____________
Swerve taps his fingers nervously on the countertop. Come on. You're good at talking. Talking is your greatest skill. All you have to do is tell someone else about your comatose hallucinations and hope they don't think you're crazy.
They're sitting at a table at the bar. More specifically Swerve and Prowl are sitting at the table, and Jazz is sitting right on the table. (God he's so small).
“So uh. I got injured a while back and...uh...well, it got worse, turned out important systems were affected and I kind of. I was in a coma. For a really long time.”
Jazz frowns
“Oh. I’m sorry to hear that.”
He speaks in a mildly wonky Common, Swerve notes to himself. He waves his servo a little too cheerfully in response.
“'Ay it's no big deal really. I saw a whole other world while I was asleep and like. See, I thought it was just my fantasies, but it seemed very real and...”
Swerve mentally crosses his fingers.
“And it was about this planet called Earth and about people who were building their own inanimate huge robots to fight huge aliens and their boss wanted to launch Mechs into space, so he picked the best of the pilots named Jazz and sent him on this test mission and...”
Jazz looks at him with huge eyes before switching to English in surprise.
“Mech, what the hell?”
“...And we lost him...” finishes Swerve with a sad smile.
Before thinking for a bit, and adding.
“I'm going to show you a trick I can do.”
And then projects his holoform onto the table in front of him.
This. It's weird. Not in a way that would tilt it in the direction of unnatural. More like walking around in his comfy indoor pajamas right in the middle of the street. Being human is familiar to him, but being human amongst huge Cybertronians? Strange. And a little creepy.
Prowl looks confused.
Jazz looks absolutely frantic.
“SWERVE????”
Swerve doesn't even manage to respond, only to smile in relief before Jazz rakes him into his arms. In his holoform, Jazz feels right again. He's taller than Swerve and oh boy, he's alive and unharmed. To think everyone thought he was dead, staying up nights trying to find what was left of him, and he was on the other side of the universe the whole time?
Swerve chuckles into Jazz's shoulder. Then picks him up and spins him around a couple times just because he needs something to get his energy out. Man, it's nice to hug people. Warm and soft, eight out of ten.
Jazz pulls away but still stays standing very close. Swerve can literally see the happy stars in his eyes.
“Dude, I'm not complaining but what...how???? You just kinda..."
Swerve laughs and twitches his eyebrows playfully.
“I still speak English, you don't have to torture yourself with Common.”
“Oh thank fuck.” Jazz throws his hands up dramatically “you're my favorite person right now.”
There is a polite click of the vocalizer resetting above their heads.
“I” Prowl says “very glad you two are happy but I'd like some explanation”
Swerve presses his head into his shoulders guiltily. Prowl has the unique ability to always sound like you've done something wrong in front of him.
Although Jazz doesn't seem to feel the same way?
“Short version - I sleepwalked my holoform to another planet.”
He pauses dramatically.
“The long version is...”
Jazz raises his hand
“What's a holoform?”
Swerve sighs.
“It's a holographic avatar that I can project using a holomatter generator. Sort of like a remote controlled game character.”
Jazz whistles impressed. And then immediately turns back to Prowl
“Have you been able to do that all this time too?“
Prowl hums
“I can create an avatar, but it takes a lot of practice to make it at least believable. And to fully perceive the world through it takes even more. It's a whole new technology. What Swerve does is essentially an art form. Sophisticated and impressively detailed may I add.”
Swerve shrugs shyly. He's still using the holoform to stand on the table next to Jazz. Looking up to speak to Prowl isn't exactly comfortable, but Jazz definitely looks like he's been missing the human presence. Swerve isn't human, but he might as well be.
“Thank you. Yes! Uh. Anyway, it seems while I was in a coma my processor projected my avatar onto Earth and I...let's just say I lived there for a while.”
Jazz laughs
“Dude. So you're telling me you were basically sleepwalking the whole time?”
“ I was.”
Prowl frowns.
“But the range limit of the holomatter generator is only four hundred miles...”
“.... I had a lot of practice...”
Jazz claps his hands.
“You learned a whole other language! Got an ID!. You had a job!!!”
“I got carried away,” Swerve admits.
Jazz scratches the back of his head, still looking very amused
“How many degrees did you get? Haha wait no, I have a better question, did you pass your driver's license?”
“Two. And I failed my driver's exam.”
“Dude you are literally a car without a driver's license!” collapses Jazz on the table with laughter.
Swerve blows the hair out of his face
“Says you who retook the physical several times. You couldn't pass the "being human" exam.”
Jazz just wheezes incoherently in response. Prowl looks alarmed.
“Don't worry, that's him getting excited. So...where have I been...”
Swerve nervously shoves his hands into his pockets
“...Do either of you two know where Earth is?”
Prowl twitches his door wings
“No. Since Jazz was teleported we don't have much clues.”
Swerve grimaces. Scrap. Of course nothing's going to be that easy. He's also been, like,....teleported.
He stands there for a couple minutes and just feels fifteen different emotions rise up in his head at once. A crooked, unsteady smile creeps across his face.
He's thinking.
Oh hell, yeah! I knew it wasn't a dream!
Then he remembers the mess he left behind.
Oh, no, it wasn't a dream.
Jazz puts a hand on his shoulder.
“Swer... Swerve? Dude, are you okay?”
“Ah frag..” Swerve says weakly ”it wasn't a dream.”
Jazz looks...puzzled.
“Is that bad?”
Swerve remembers his friends. Remembers the Mecha program. Remembers fire and smoke and screams and rumbling and crackling flames. Ashes flying through the air and the smell of burnt wires. He remembers blood and debris and...
“It's...complicated.”
This wasn't just a stupid plot twist he'd dreamed up because he'd watched too many shows. This wasn't a hallucination or a disembodied fantasy that just happened to linger in his head. This was real. His friends exist out there somewhere. His work and his collections and his little apartment...
And Blurr. Was real. Or still is? Swerve doesn't know. Blurr wasn't a product of his imagination. He was real and what he did was real and Swerve left him there alone, bleeding and trapped in rubble and tiny and...
Hahahahah oh fUCK.
He doesn't like this plot. It's too much. Too much to handle, too complicated, too ambiguous.
It's also probably too late.
But he can't leave it like this, right? Blurr went into the damn burning building just because of the possibility that there might be someone alive in there.
And Swerve doesn't even have to go through the flames. He has to look. He has to try at least.
Jazz glares at him with a worried look on his face
“ That expression you have...”
Swerve puts the smile back on his face.
“I need to get to Earth.”
___________________
Swerve is not an idiot.
Or maybe more accurately an idiot, but with several degrees.
He's well aware that finding Earth in space with only a description of it is impossible. Which leaves him with two options.
Ask the Quintessons. Or look for it himself.
The first sounds like death. The second like coma. Swerve has exquisite enough taste to know which is better.
He just needs to do some preliminary reserch.....
Jazz, now back inside his Mech looks doubtful.
“You're not going to die suddenly and for no reason, are you?”
Swerve laughs.
“Pfffff what, no of course not, would I kill myself hah. No no, look I'll just put myself in stasis for a bit. Send myself to Earth. And try to figure out where it is from there. Get the coordinates. If I'm lucky, I can see what Space Bridge the local Quintessons use. All you'll have to do is wake me up after a while.”
“It's not harmful?”
Swerve makes an uncertain gesture with his hand...servo.
“If I have enough fuel. And an additional connection to an external generator.”
Jazz tilts his head
“ Why are you so eager to get to Earth? Don't get me wrong, I miss it too and want to go back, but.”
Swerve bites his knuckles.
“ I have some unfinished business?”
“Pshhhh you sound like a ghost.”
Swerve only laughs in response.
_______________
Concentration is tricky.
Swerve tries to think about Earth. And not to think about the fact that he doesn't know where it is. If he's already been there once, he might as well go there again yes? In theory? Perhaps?
Except for the possibility that his sleepwalking just takes him to random planets. That would be very inconvenient. It would be a whole new level of lost
Shit. No. Earth. Think Earth.
What's he even gonna do when he gets there? How far away is it? Swerve is very talented with his holomatter generator, but if it's really far away... maybe he should reset some settings.
He mentally starts going through his options. Does he need tangibility? Probably not. Come to think of it, it would only make him more vulnerable and take a lot of energy. Yeah, the tangibility has to go. What else? Touch, too. Sight and hearing should stay, that's not even a question, but colors and textures are not really necessary.
The amount of detail and picture quality can be reduced as well. His holoform will become colorless and grainy and will probably ripple with static, but he'll survive it.
After he finishes making changes to his holoform he thinks about his old stuff left in his house. Then about the posters. Then reminds himself that he needs to focus on the goal or he'll never find Blurr and...oh FUCK his phone! Where was his phone when he disappeared? Was it found?? There were so many personal things on that phone, he's hoping the phone was burned under the rubble. Either that or the arriving investigators will find his browser history and he'll go into another coma from pure embarrassment.
He blinks dazedly when he realizes he has loads of rocks in front of his eyes. Oh..Did he screw up? Did he end up on the wrong planet? Is it a cave or--
Then he notices the odd shape of the “rocks” and. Oh, no. It's not a cave. It's charred concrete debris.
This is the place where he was last.
He hastily looks around. Anxiety creeps up the back of his neck, makes him feel like something slippery and cold is crawling over his skin. There is nothing but ruins all around.
Blurr is not here. The place where his Mech was lying is empty.
Which means he was at least found and dragged out. Dead or alive.
Swerve's bites his knuckles. Okay.
All right.
He's got things to do.
_______________
He's trying to stay out of sight. Which isn't hard, considering he's just a hologram. At first, he just sneaks around in the quiet areas. Then proceeds to do a facepalm and start teleporting. Think, Swerve. Did you read all those comic books for nothing? Superheroes who couldn't really use their superpowers creatively always annoyed him. And he does, in fact, have a superpower. Gotta get creative, right?
He stops and looks at himself again. His holoform is going static and is a dull white color. He thinks for a bit, and then shrinks himself. Thinks some more, and makes himself almost transparent. There's no way he could pass as a normal human right now, so he'd better just do his best to avoid being seen by anyone.
He looks around thoughtfully. Hmm. Even if he's going to be absolutely tiny, he needs to make sure no one sees him, otherwise the whole base will think the Quintessons are now spying on them through holograms or something.
Breaking the rules feels...it's exciting.
All his ..human life here he hadn't thought about it, but if he threw away the rules he was used to about what people could or couldn't do...
He looks up in a sudden rush of sly genius. All people look under their feet when they walk, but how many look up? And how many of them notice the barely visible tiny holoform hiding just behind the blinding lamps?
The answer is probably none.
Swerve projects himself onto the ceiling and mentally pats himself on the shoulder for his impressive intellectual accomplishments. A creativity degree should definitely be a thing.
A degree in spying on the Quintessons' ships wouldn't hurt him either.
Fortunately sneaking onto their ship turns out not to be that difficult. Swerve makes himself absurdly tiny and hides in the darkest corners that no one would ever think to look into. Why hasn't anyone thought of using holoforms for spying before? Could he be the first to think of it? He doesn't know, but he mentally decides to patent the idea.
Finding the Space Bridge is surprisingly easy. The local Quintesson fleet is clearly used to being the dominant force in space. And that's generally logical. Even if humanity collects a mountain of money from somewhere to throw a dozen Mechs into space - there will be thousands of monsters waiting for them. In such a situation, you don't have to hide, the guards are enough.
Well done, well done, don't hide, Swerve thinks, copying the coordinates and address of the space bridge to himself. You have absolutely nothing to fear here, he thinks, so stay where you are and don't move. Please and thank you.
Once the coordinates are obtained, he... has some freedom to explore. And he uses it for probably the most boring-sounding thing in the world. He returns to his usual workplace.
It’s simple. As damning as the Mecha program was, Swerve loved his job in it. He loved his position in the assembly shop. And he missed his friends.
He quickly teleports through several rooms, continuing to hide close to the lamps. Tailgate is here. Alive and unharmed. Wheeljack is too, though his face has some scars added to it. It's great to see them again, even if he can't talk to them right now. No one will probably react well to a grainy unexplainable hologram. He's just glad to know they're okay and honestly, the last thing he needs is paranoid Onslaught installing extra signal jammers.
It takes time to find Blurr. Partly because Swerve is terrified of what he might find if he started looking. So he goes to check the death lists first, and only after flipping through and re-reading them three times does he finally exhale in relief.
Blurr's name isn't there.
So his smug, shiny ass must be around here somewhere.
He checks the hangar. Flips through the Mech launch logs and feels an uncomfortable knot begin to form in his chest. Blurr's Mech has never been repaired or launched even once since the incident. Its plating has been replaced with new, well polished, and put in a prominent place where anyone who wants to can take a picture of it. But all the internal systems are destroyed. This machine hasn't been used for anything other than being a beautiful exhibit.
That's...something's wrong.
He checks offices and schedules as well as eavesdropping on a few conversations and ends up secretly following Swindle, who is arguing loudly with someone on the phone. He says something about deals and how he doesn't need anyone meddling in his business. Then he talks about how he's got everything under control and the person on the phone is “a dumbass who's making drama out of nothing” and that “he doesn't need anyone's handouts". Then he sighs and says, “you know how celebs are. Dumb and dramatic. You can't take their words literally.”
Then drops the call and for a couple seconds looks like he's just had a large bill taken right out of his hand. Curses again, but in a quieter voice. Leafs through his contacts and stops at the one signed 'free ice'.
“Blurr? Where are you? Wha...ah, no wait. No, the advertising agency called. No, liste...Can you shut up for one second?Where are you?
Uh-huh....... Uh-huh.Okay.
Give me half an hour...okay, yeah.”
This is it, Swerve thinks.
He shrinks himself further and teleports under the collar of Swindle's coat.
He wants to take a look. Just. Just a peek. Make sure everything's all right. Then he can go about his original mission in peace. He watches Swindle get in his car and drive off somewhere. Swerve doesn't recognize this part of town. The houses here are much nicer than where he lived. The streets are cleaner.
He tucks himself further under the coat collar. He's not going to be a stalker or anything, but he's worried and he doesn't have time to wait for Blurr himself to show up for work. Just one little look and that's it.
Swindle's car stops outside a beautiful, shiny hospital. Swerve nervously tries to bite his knuckles, but remembers he's disabled touch in his holoform. Shit? Shit.
Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit. Shi
Blurr looks like a mangled corpse.
Okay, not really. His left side that faces the door to the hospital room looks like a mangled corpse and that's the first thing that catches Swerve's eye when he's inside.
Blurr is pale and thin and his hands are covered in bandages. The left side of his face has been turned into an absolute ugly nightmare. A piece of his ear is missing. In the place of the left eye is a creepy empty hole.
Suddenly Swerve realizes why Blurr didn't show up for work. You can't even show him to his coworkers like that, not just to the public.
Blurr turns his head and the spell breaks. His lips stretch into a cocky smile.
“'Got bored without me Swindle?”
Swindle doesn't show the slightest emotion at the gruesome sight. He casually pulls a chair over to the hospital bed and sits down.
“Shockwave is trying to sneak a new project into the program. And he's slowly swaying investors to his side, using you as an excuse. Tells everyone you're a poor martyr he can save if only he's given the green light from above.”
Blurr wrinkles his nose.
“Not that he's wrong. The doctors say I need to pick a new career because with this...” he jerks his head to the left implying his damaged half, ” neither racing nor piloting is an option for me anymore. I'm out of your project.”
Then he stops talking for a few seconds and raises an eyebrow curiously.
“You wouldn't have come here in person just to say that. Why are you really here?”
Swindle adjusts his glasses
“Have I ever told you why I made the contract with you?”
“Because you like money” Blurr says without hesitation.
Swindle lets out a quiet chuckle.
“Fair point. But money wasn't my only priority.”
He pauses for a second. Gets up. Draws the curtains in the room. Checks to make sure no one is outside the door.
Goes back to his seat.
“You didn't see what the Mecha project was like before. Brutality and absolute disregard for human rights multiplied by a thousand. People were desperate and no one cared to maintain any decency.”
He raises his hand when Blurr rushes to say something.
“No no, listen to me. If you think things are bad now, you're right. But it used to be much. Much, much worse.”
Swindle sighs and adjusts his glasses again
“Vortex was taken as a boy. He wasn't even out of high school when they shoved him into the lab. Me and Onslaught were pulled right out of the college exams. The others were no better, although they were usually a little older. My point is that it was allowed. It's what the superiors could do and no one told them no.”
Blurr tilts his head and gets a little all turned around to see Swindle better with his right eye.
“But you... found a way to change that, didn't you?
Swindle rubs the bridge of his nose
“I have no power over my own superiors. But Onslaught and I have come up with a plan. Look. I'll put it in simple terms for you. Above me is my boss, and above him is another boss, and so on but at the very end of that chain are people from the government. The investors. So we figured out a way to cut through the chain of command and influence them directly. Make them worry about us. It's a kind of social shield. Onslaught is a genius.”
Blurr blinks.
“Why are you telling me all this.”
Swindle takes off his hat and just. Crumples it in his hands. The back of his head shows numerous scars and the glint of tiny metal implants barely visible behind his hair.
“You're that shield right now, Blurr. You can't leave.”
Blurr's eye widens
“Is that why you insisted on ‘befriending’ me with all those bullshitters?”
“I needed to make sure that in their minds we weren't just a military unit. To keep them thinking that we're as human as they are. So I gave Project Mecha a face.” He tugs on the hat again, “Your face.”
Blurr runs his fingers through his hair
“Shockwave can't do whatever he wants cause...because of me his efforts would risk going public and people wouldn't like it and it would ruin the reputation of our investors-and-they'd-cut-off-his-funding.”
Swindle puts his hat back on.
“Exactly.’ That's why he's being so persistent right now. He knows you're vulnerable and he wants to capitalize on the opportunity. Make you part of his new project and tell the world about it. Make publicity his weapon, too.”
The lamp above them flickers faintly. Blurr takes a breath. Long and tired and exhausted and. a bit doomed.
Swindle puts a hand on his shoulder.
“Please. Don't leave. At least not now. And don't let Shockwave get to you. That would open the way for him to get to the rest of the pilots you represent.”
They just. Sit in silence for a while. Blurr quickly taps a finger on his knee. A rapid tap-tap-tap-tap-tap-tap-tap-tap-tap-tap.
Swindle moves his hand away and gets up from his chair.
“There's a press conference coming up. I need you to be there. I've told everyone who needs to know that the problem is exaggerated and you're fine but they need to see you.”
Blurr smiles sourly.
“My lawyer is going to charge you such a handsome sum for that stunt.”
Swindle laughs, but his cardboard advertising smile doesn't reach his eyes.
“We’ll see about that. Seriously though. I need you there.”
Blurr bites his lip.
“I..don’t know...”
Swerve...doesn't know what to think of that.
Blurr shows up for the press conference. Late, but he makes it. Just as Shockwave is presenting his new project in his amazingly well-pitched voice. Blurr swings the door open and waltzes lazily inside, skillfully pretending not to notice the many cameras and eyes instantly directed at him.
Swerve, whose memory is still fresh thinks for a second that no, no this can't be the same person. Past Blurr looked like a wreck. Past Blurr was tense and tired and hunched over. Present Blurr couldn't look more alive. His shoulders are squared proudly, there's that cheerful springiness and grace in his stride. He moves with ease and confidence. Smoothly.
The left side of his face is neatly covered with fresh white bandages. Carefully, without leaving the even the slightest gap through which his injury could be seen. His hands are hidden under a fancy jacket. He smiles wide and bright and squints playfully toward the table.
The very embodiment of nonchalance. The few pilots sitting in the audience roll their eyes.
Swindle breathes out a barely perceptible sigh of relief. Swerve, once again using Swindle's collar as a tactical cover, can't help but let out a silent triumphant laugh. Maybe slightly more nervous than he is supposed to be.
Blurr sends Swindle a sly, sharp smile and even knowing it wasn't meant for him, Swerve feels his cheeks heat up.
Ah, damn it.
Swerve breaks the rules. He tells himself that peeking is fraught with consequences when it comes to military organizations, but he can't stop himself from being curious. And from worry, too.
And now that he knows where to look, he sees things he'd rather not see.
Blurr ... is crumbling.
Swerve doesn't know all the details and consequences, but that incident did leave a mark.
But every time Swindle calls him and says “I need you at some place in two hours” he gets up and assembles himself into a human being. Like a goddamn puzzle. Tapes and covers the burned half of his face. Covers up the bruises and hides the stitches. Fixes his hair and sets off on shaky legs to pretend he's fine.
He smiles so bright and carefree, laughs so sweet and beautiful that no one would ever think that even standing up sometimes hurts.
And continues to act like a jerk of course.
The only difference is that this time Swerve mentally gives him the presumption of innocence before he starts judging.
Blurr does a lot of things that seem rude. He also does a lot of things that are actually rude and figuring them out without resorting to alien superpowers would be nearly impossible.
When the pilots see Blurr sitting right on the table while negotiating with investors, they roll their eyes and make comments about his terrible manners. Or when he stops showing up for even the most basic, rudimentary training.
Or when he develops that stupid habit of leaning his elbows on people standing next to him.
It's the model behavior of a rich, spoiled brat.
It's also an inconspicuous way to stay upright.
Employees say “that dumbass has never heard of personal space.”
Investors say, “I think he likes me.”
Blurr leans on Swindle's shoulder and through a charming smile says “Don't move or I'm gonna fall.”
Swindle also keeping up the smile discreetly holds him back, pretending it's a friendly half hug.
Swerve feels like yelling at both of them, but he's not sure what for exactly. For one thing, Blurr in his condition is very VERY VERY contraindicated to even get out of bed, let alone participate in social activities.
On the other hand, without Blurr, everything is going down the pit.
Without Blurr, all the government sees are dry reports and spreadsheets. Without him, all the high command has is numbers and a sense of impunity. Swerve is sickened by how easily people tend to forget that numbers represent other people.
Most pilots are able to draw a parallel between deteriorating working conditions and Blurr's sudden fondness for staying home instead of working. But they think the rich jerk got scared and ran away. Considering the way Blurr has always behaved at work - Swerve can't even judge them too much for it. They assume Shockwave getting more freedom is the cause of Blurr's absence, not the result.
Blurr's influence only becomes noticeable when it slowly starts to fade away. It's like switching from expensive tea to a cheaper one. The awful flavor only becomes noticeable in contrast.
Blurr doesn't lead the development of new technologies or go out to fight in the field. He doesn't make plans and reports, he doesn't participate in drills, he doesn't cover anyone's back in battle.
But he's the one who puts his hand on the government's shoulders when they're about to sign the next piece of paper. He's the one they have to look in the eye before they have a pen in their hands and a document authorizing Shockwave to stick more needles in people's brains.
It makes a difference. Small one. But still.
It turns a disembodied imaginary “combat units” into a tangible person.
From “do you want to accelerate the combat training of new soldiers” to “are you willing to tell the living, breathing guy standing in front of you that shoving poison under his skin is an idea you approve of.”
More importantly (And Swerve actually admires Swindle for this) Will you be able to explain anything to your families later on, when this same guy is on TV all over the country saying that's what you did to him?
There have been two fronts here all this time, Swerve realizes.
While the pilots were protecting people from monsters wearing teeth and armor, Blurr was protecting the pilots themselves from monsters wearing ties and lab coats.
After another conference, Shockwave stops Blurr in the hallway.
“Good show.”
Blurr laughs. Soundly and proudly.
“Thanks darling~ Sorry I interrupted you. Your speech sounded like something important, but I don't really know much about nerd stuff.”
Swerve, hiding on the ceiling again, snorts.
Shockwave doesn't move. Doesn't give any indication at all if he's offended or upset or whatever.
“It must have been hard getting here with your injuries.”
Blurr shrugs and lazily turns his head around distracted.
“It's just a few bruises here and there. Not the end of the world.”
Shockwave nods slowly. His voice and posture and all, Swerve thinks, looking very uncomfortable.
“Of course it isn't. But hardly good for your career.”
Blurr freezes.
No, Swerve thinks. Shit. No, don't listen to him, don't listen to him, don't listen to him, don't
“Your brilliant achievements have always been a source of admiration to me” continues Shockwave “it would be a pity to lose them.”
Blurr makes an indifferent face and tucks his hands into his pockets.
“Like I said. Not the end of the world.”
Swerve imagines choking Shockwave. Dropping a lamp on his head. Maybe jumping on top of him himself. Shut up, he thinks. Shut up, shut up, stop fucking talking.
Shockwave with a nice, slow gesture pulls out a notebook from somewhere and flips a couple pages.
“Multiple burns, cracked ribs, poisoning from carbon monoxide and combustion products of toxic chemicals...”
Blurr visibly shivers and looks away.
“...loss of vision on one side...” Shockwave continues reading, ”and partial hearing loss. Finally, the impact of neural link malfunctions. And this, if I'm not mistaken, is on top of the already existing memory problems?”
Shockwave takes a step closer. Not fast enough to make it look threatening, but enough to hover.
“It may not be the end of the world, but it is the end of you.”
He writes a set of numbers on the same page, tears it off, and hands it to Blurr.
“You are broken. I can fix you.”
Blurr frowns, but takes the piece of paper.
“That fixing would involve giving you consent to mess around with my head, wouldn't it? It's brave of you to think I'd go for that.”
Shockwave tucks the notepad into his pocket.
“I can assure you, neither I nor anyone else is interested in your brain. I just want to give you back what you're truly valued for.”
Blurr flinches.
“I don't need your help.”
“ If you say so,” Shockwave agrees easily. Nods, slowly and smoothly. Then starts to walk away “But you do need your fame.”
...
“By the way, you might want to wipe the blood off.”
Blurr waits until Shockwave's back disappears around the corner, then quickly pulls a tissue from his pocket and brings it up to his nose.
____________________________
Swerve wakes up looking up at the ceiling of his room. The high, metal ceiling, of a metal room on a metal spaceship.
Holy shit...
Jazz pokes him gently on the forearm
“Are you alive? You've been gone for like quite a while...Did it work?”
“Hey Jazz” frowns Swerve “what do you know about Blurr?”
Jazz laughs
“What are you fanboying over him again? Still??? Dude's smug and arrogant. Good boss though. I was hired to perform at his parties before I became a pilot.”
Swerve sits up and rubs the back of his head.
“Ah...”
“So it worked?”
“Wha...ah! Yes! Yes, it worked! I managed to get the number and codes from the space bridge the Quints used on you. We just need to find another space bridge and we'll have a pretty much direct route to Earth...well. Or rather, to the Quint ship that's located near Earth. You get the idea.”
Jazz rubs his hands together happily.
“I'll take it.”
Swerve jumps to the floor and heads to grab an energon cube. Man, these holoform exercises are burning energy like crazy.
He stares at his metal hands like an idiot for a couple minutes. Just...Contemplates how non-human they are.
He has eight fingers again instead of the human ten. Huh.
Prowl downloads the information he's gotten and immediately runs off to plan a route to the nearest working space bridge and for a while Swerve is just.
Left to himself.
He tries not to think about Blurr. What would he even say to him? Hey, look, I'm sorry I accidentally set you up, see, I'm actually an alien who was sleepwalking and thought you were fictional, surely this won't affect our non-existent strictly professional working relationship? Nah, screw that. If he's going to sound crazy, he needs to at least come up with a good presentation for his insanity.
....
Is it weird to think humans are beautiful if you're not human? If you're kind of human, but only in your soul and only half human?
He looks at Jazz and Prowl.
“You two get along really well.”
Jazz chuckles, sitting on Prowl's shoulder.
“Right now, yes. But we got on each other's nerves quite a bit when we first met.”
Swerve looks up at Jazz's chattering legs from his height and thinks. This is working somehow.
On the other hand, Jazz is the exception rather than the rule. He's friendly with everyone, he's easy to get along with, he's the soul of any company and most importantly, he was a little too much into robots before he discovered they could be alive. If anyone could find common ground with the Cybertronians, it would definitely be Jazz.
_____________________
”Are you a ghost?”
Swerve shrieks in fear and gets covered in static. He hadn't planned on talking. He hadn't planned on being noticed at all. Blurr was supposed to be asleep! And Swerve just wanted to close the curtains and leave, because there's some noisy party going on outside and bright illuminations are very bad for a patient already suffering from neural connection withdrawal.
He freezes in place like that dude from Jurassic Park. Like if he's still enough, he won't be noticed. Oh, or was that from another movie?
“I'm just uh” he awkwardly reaches up and closes the curtains “Lights. Bad for...you...now.”
Blurr chuckles. It sounds suspiciously joyful. His whole posture and facial expression. He looks very relaxed for someone who had a ghost materialize into the room out of thin air.
Swerve traces the line of the IV with his gaze. Oops, that looks like painkillers.
“Yes I am. Uh. A ghost watching the curtains. And now the curtains are fine, so I guess I'd better go?”
Blurr squints amusedly.
“You can walk through walls?”
“Uh, I can teleport into the next room?”
He backs up his words by making himself disappear and reappear in another corner of the room.
“Cool!” says Blurr cheerfully.
Swerve is involuntarily infected by his mood and makes a couple dramatic bows as if he were some kind of magician.
“ Show me more?”
“Hehehe okay eh” Swerve spreads his arms like he's presenting something and then makes himself the size of a soda bottle and teleports to the edge of Blurr's bed “Ta daaaa~”
“Wooooo look at you, you're like an action figure~”
Blurr immediately makes an attempt to touch him, but fails to reach and drops his hand back on the blanket.
Swerve chuckles and steps closer. It's funny to see the usually incredibly agile Blurr struggling with something so simple and ridiculous.
“They really drugged you huh?”
“It's not the drugs” snorts Blurr ”...it's my eye.”
He raises his hand once more and hesitantly pulls it towards Swerve until it bumps into his hair
“... depths Per…percen.. ah, shit. I can't tell how far away things are.”
Swerve just. Lets Blurr fidget at himself, while starting to feel really bad at the same time.
"If you can't tell how far things are, how are you going to drive?
Race???”
He must have a plan right? Something? Let’s-prove-Shockwave-wrong tactic???
Blurr drops his hands back on the blanket
“I won't.”
He freezes when the all too close fireworks rumble outside the window. Then points to his head.
“With this. I can't drive, I can barely walk at all, and I look like horror movie material. Pathetic heeh.”
Swerve sits down quietly cross-legged on the blanket.
“Well...at least you're alive....”
Blurr shakes his head.
“If I had died, it would have been epic. You know? Dharm...dramatic! It would be big news and everyone would be talking about what a hero I was or...or something...”
“...”
“Swindle would be so angry, but he'd figure out a way to make money out of it. He'd make a commercial about how people should be heroes. I'd be remn..remembered for being cool and brave and stuff.”
Fireworks can be heard from the street again. Swerve notices that there is a thin slit between the closed curtains through which a slim, flickering strip of multicolored light streams into the room.
Blurr frowns and leans back against the pillow, looking up at the ceiling.
“I've turned into a boring wreck. My records will be beaten, my career forgotten , and all the guys from work will remember me as a brat. In a--in a--in a way, it's worse than death. Shockwave's right.”
Swerve isn't sure what exactly would be an acceptable gesture of comfort, so he kind of just. Places his hand on the blanket covering Blurr's lap.
“Hey, don't say that. I think what you're doing is great.”
“Liar” smiles Blurr crookedly ”You hated me. I saw your posters collection.”
Oh shit. The ones he ripped off the walls and destroyed in a fit of fan frustration? He didn't even hide them, just shoved them in the back corner. Aw, man...
Swerve folds his arms awkwardly across his chest.
“I can be mad at you and think you're cool at the same time. I'm a multitasker.”
“You're a very specific kind of ghost.” says Blurr. Then, apparently inspired by the painkillers, decides to drop the conversational equivalent of an atomic bomb on Swerve's head “You died because of me?”
Swerve stiffens.
“I...Wwhat?”
“You know.” he makes a gesture with his hand that's ..unclear what it's supposed to mean. “You were working there with everyone else, and then there was that fire and I was sure I saw you down there under the rubble.”
He's silent for a couple seconds before he hesitantly continues
“And then no one could find you so most assumed you either burned or ran away. And now you're here with all your weird ghost stuff, so you must be dead.”
Swerve has.No idea what to think about it. And what to say? He's been so busy blaming himself for Blurr getting hurt that it hasn't occurred to him to think about what it looks like from Blurr's own perspective.
“Actually” says Swerve ”I'm an alien.”
“Heh” giggles Blurr ”sorry, my head’s all cloudy, I thought you said you were an alien.”
Swerve wants to run around and bang his head against the wall.
Instead, he gets up from the hospital bed. Carefully.
“You're high. I'm not going to explain things to you while you're high, you won't understand or remember them. Go back to sleep. It's the middle of the night.”
“You'll tell me later?”
Swerve hums quietly and pulls the curtains all the way closed.
“If future, sober Blurr would want my company.”
---------------
Jazz looks at him. Very intensely.
“Are you going to tell me who this mystery person you keep coming back to Earth for?”
Swerve snorts.
“What makes you think it's anyone in particular?”
“You're right, you're right~” raises his hands in surrender Jazz “So are you going to tell your friend the whole thing?”
Swerve crosses his ..metal arms over his metal chest.
“Is it that big of a deal? He thinks I'm a ghost or something.”
Being a ghost...somehow better, he thinks. If you're a ghost, it kind of automatically implies you're human. Or was a human.
“Sooner or later, he'll put the facts together~” says Jazz in a chant.
Swerve laughs.
“That's unlikely. He's got a pretty bad memory.”
_______________
His plans to stay out of anyone's sight combust with a dramatic pop the next time he projects himself to Earth. He doesn't plan to interfere, he doesn't even plan to linger. He just wants to see what's going on.
He actually just quietly sneaks into the hospital to make sure nothing's happened to Blurr since last time, but when he finally finds him then...oh shit, is that Pharma in the same room with him??? This can't be good.
They don't speak, but Pharma has clearly locked his eyes on Blurr and starts making his way towards him with the relentlessness of a industrial metal press.
Swerve does some rough math in his head. If he briefly gives his holoform back its detail and voice, will that be enough to fry his processor? He's not sure.
Pharma gives a believable impression of a shark getting close. The staff, as if sensing something untoward is about to happen, leaves the room in a hurry.
Blurr looks indifferent, but Swerve's attention is drawn to the way he squints tensely. Man, the lamps are too bright in here.
Pharma smiles sweetly and reaches out for a handshake
“Mind some company?”
Swerve's mental processes fly out the window. Oh no no. Not Pharma. Not in his fucking fanfic. He quickly changes his work clothes into a slightly more business-like looking shirt. Thinks for just a moment and adds a cap to his head to blend in more strongly with the attendants and hide his face to an extent. And then projects himself around the nearest unoccupied corner and runs out of behind it looking as anxious as he feels.
“Blurr!!! Sir, there you are!!! I've been looking everywhere for you!”
Pharma wants to say something, but Swerve doesn't even let him start. He stands in front of Blurr separating him and Farma expressively waves his hands trying to keep his head down.
“The guys you were talking about didn't bring the new hydraulics! It's a disaster, we'll have to use the one on the old models!”
Blurr, to his surprise, backs up his act almost instantly
“Really? But I thought there was nothing to take from the old models?”
“That's exactly the point! I got the paperwork this morning and...oh those assholes are going to screw it up if you don't step in as soon as possible!”
Pharma tilts his head
“Can it wait? We were actually talking here!”
Oh no, thinks Swerve I'll show you who's talking.
“Sir, no offense but this is a matter of extreme urgency. Are you implying that the safety of your patients is not important?”
“What do you mea...”
“Old faulty hydraulics, that's what you want?” raises an eyebrow in horror Blurr.
“No I'm just...”
“I had a better opinion of you, to be honest.”
“I...” opens his mouth Pharma “...WHAT...?”
Swerve shakes his head.
“And I thought his profession was to help people, can you imagine?”
“Wh..”
Blurr rolls his eye.
“Any idiot can get an important position these days.”
“Wait..”
“Tell me about it. Especially doctors.”
Pharma looks like he's about to start pulling the hair out of his head.
“Can at least one of you shut up??”
Swerve adjusts his cap in a businesslike manner
“Sir, I understand you're a bit detached from reality spending so much time in your department, but you need to take better care of your reputation.”
He raises his eyebrows knowingly
“Wouldn't want the rumors about you to turn out to be true. You know what I mean?”
Pharma doesn't even answer anymore. Pharma just looks like a discarded fish.
“…..Wha....there's rumors?”
“Of course” shrugs Swerve ”Ask Norman, he usually knows everything about everyone. And about your interesting tricks with safety, too.”
He leans in conspiratorially, effectively pulling all of Farma's attention to himself
“So if I were you, I'd stay out of any more things you don't understand.”
Pharma wants to say something. Swerve can tell by the look in his eyes. Pharma tries to come up with a witty and context-appropriate response, but this whole conversation has no more context than a typical episode of Teletubbies.
“Where does this Norman guy work?” finally finds the ground beneath his feet Pharma
Swerve shrugs.
“Block C, if he hasn't been transferred yet. He's already been fined several times for spreading harmful information you know? The guy can't keep a secret.”
Pharma throws his hands up angrily and storms away. Probably looking for context. Or revenge.
A quiet cough sounds behind Swerve's back.
“So. Should I be worried about Norman's health?”
Swerve feels the hair on the back of his neck shiver and slowly turns to face Blurr while still looking somewhere on the floor.
“Uh...only if you're concerned about the fate of fictional characters. I made up Norman's wife, she'll be upset if he gets fired for gossiping.”
Blurr chuckles. Then goes silent. Then, after a couple seconds, starts laughing again. That's a good look for him, Swerve thinks. It's not like Blurr's usual velvet-smooth laugh that he uses at social events. It's more like a quick, jerky giggle, and in Swerve's subjective opinion, it's pretty damn cute. He can't help but grin.
Blurr snorts one last time, cutting off the laughter.
Then he reaches out his hand to him.
Swerve reaches back, expecting a handshake, but Blurr ignores his hand and instead goes for his cap and lifts it by the brim.
Swerve, not expecting this, freezes with his hand outstretched.
Blurr freezes as well, still holding the cap in his hand and looking...like he's rethinking his life. A little.
Ugh, and how to explain it all to him....
“Uh...you...uh...probably don't remember me. I...it's...”
Blurr shifts his gaze from Swerve to the cap in his hand. Then back to Swerve.
“You're real???”
Swerve awkwardly waves his hands in front of him
“Ah not.., not really. Do you know why Pharma was looking for you in the first place? He doesn't work with patients anymore, he's been reassigned to the research department, right?”
Blurr shrugs.
“Last time I saw him, he said I might have implant rejection in the third ..uh..what? stage? or something? I think he's trying to get me in for a checkup.”
Swerve twitches.
“Third??? How are you still standing???”
He then quickly reaches up with both hands to Blurr's head and tilts it so he can see his face better. Using one thumb, he pulls his lower eyelid slightly and mentally catalogs. Temperature normal, pupil normal, eyes are steady, no darkening or trace of blood on the eyelid. Implants? He puts both palms up and gently feels the places behind Blurr's ears. No signs of rejection or malfunction.
“No no no” sighs Swerve ”You're fine, it's only stage two. I mean, second sucks too, migraines and all, but you just need to rest and no bright lights and...” he finally notices his hands are still on Blurr's head and pulls them back as fast as if he's been burned ”I MEAN I'm uh...sorry, I didn't mean to, I...”
Blurr laughs quietly.
“I'm glad you're back.”
_____________________
He wakes up in his quarters and can feel his face burning.
When he goes out to get the energon, Jazz throws him a look.
“Is something wrong? You're all kinda...shaky.”
“Hhhhhhuuuuuuuuuuuu” imitates signs of life Swerve “Say, doesn't it bother you that Prowl isn't human?”
Jazz smiles
“ Oh, I went crazy when I found out. But we figured it out.”
“Like...on a scale from ‘bad grade in school’ to ‘an asteroid is coming to Earth’ how crazy was it?”
“Worried about what your human friends will think?”
Swerve swings back and forth on his heels
“Pfffffffffffffffffffffffffffffff. Whatnooooo, no of course not. I'd be worried if I planned on telling them at all.”
Jazz frowns
“No offense, but keeping secrets isn't your strong suit.”
“Haha” Swerve waves his servo “ Watch me.”
2K notes · View notes
targaryenluvs · 1 year ago
Text
OH BABY!
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pairing: finnick odair x fem!reader, young!naive!tribute reader
summary: finnick found you to be as cute as ever. but you aren’t exactly the smartest in the room according to him. luckily, finnicks more than happy to help his sweet baby succeed, and he will not let you forget him.
warnings: AGE GAP (18 - 23) smut, FILTH THIS MAN IS DOWNBAD, possessive, corruption, pervy finnick, violent thoughts/intrusive, exhibitionist? degradation, oral (m & f), p in v, overstimulation, praise, mirror kink? spanking 👀 rough sex? tummy bulge, my first time writing smut be kind 😭
word count: 5k - this is literally the longest fic ive written.
a/n: this is what happens at 6am and i can’t sleep, thoughts are thunk -UPDATE HOLY CRAP THERE IS GONNA BE A NEW MOVIW AND BOOKKKSJSNABS
taglist: @coolchick333 @doublesideeye
“and the female tribute for district four, y/n l/n.” your eye involuntarily twitched at your name being called. the people around you, distanced themselves from you as a path was carved to your own hell.
as you walked to the platform you kept your head down. you were actually hopeful that you’d get through this reaping, your last and then never see the inside of the arena. but of course fate was against you. as you stood in front of the people you couldn’t help the silent tears that fled down your face.
your mothers face was tired and drained, she had a feeling you’d get picked. mothers intuition? your father was pissed, his little girl, his sweetheart, being thrown into an arena to die? and worst of all, there wasn’t anything he could do.
you felt alone, as if no one could help you. and as you said goodbye to the life you knew, you could only pray for safety, and a quick death.
as you were escorted to the train you fiddled with your sweater sleeves. pulling them down, rolling them up, just to focus your mind on something. it was chilly, most likely the air conditioning on the train and sometimes you had to hold down your skirt.
finnick couldn’t take his eyes of you once he saw you on the train. you looked so tiny in the chair and he couldn’t help but smile.
he practically had you all to himself.
“y/n?” your head shot up at your name being called and you were met with finnick odair in all his glory. “finnick? finnick odair?” even calling his name you sounded so unsure, so he smiled and nodded.
“i’m your mentor, and i promise to try my best to get you to win.” he sat down in front of you, spreading his legs and you felt your face warm up. he found you adorable, with a cute white sweater and a short black skirt. you had your hair down with the front parts tied up with a bow. his own personal present.
your shy demeanour reminded him of your young age, but he couldn’t find it in himself to care. you were looking everywhere but at him and he loved it.
“do… do you think i can win?” god no. the tributes would eat you up alive, but he’d try his best. “i do.” with just two words of encouragement, you smiled at him for the first time.
finnick wanted you to smile at him forever.
“are you hungry?” the rumbling of your stomach answered his question, as you ducked your head in your hands in embarrassment.
he moved your hands aside, tilting your chin up, "it's okay to be hungry sweetheart, come on." he held his hand out for you and he laughed at your hesitance. "i don't bite, not unless you want me to.” the last part of his sentence came out hushed and you averted your eyesight from him.
there were so many foods laid out before you, and it wasn’t as if you were poor, but god, it all looked nice. the eclairs took your attention away as you reached for one, your finger sweeping cream off the top before placing it in your mouth. it was sickeningly sugary but you had a sweet tooth, you retracted your finger with a pop! and you somehow didn’t hear finnicks groan.
how on earth were you not realising how dirty it seemed? and it was there finnick realised how pure you were, “its so good,” you flashed him a toothy grin, “you'll have some won't you finnick?" you offered it up to him with two hands and how could he resist? the two of you spent the rest of your time on the train eating and talking, finnick utilising his time to get to know you.
you’d spent a day getting settled and were now to get ready for your interview.
after being prepped and readied, you were shuffled into your dressing room where analise, damian and sarah awaited. a range of compliments were thrown your way.
“oh isn’t she adorable?”
“i could pinch her cheeks forever!”
“you are precious!”
they were so nice to you and you loved it, but you barely ever learned how to take compliments so you ended up just nodding your head. “she is gorgeous,” you snapped your head up to the doorway and there stood your mentor, in all his glory. his compliment felt heavier than the rest, like he truly meant it, and you looked down at your hands as you fought off the blush threatening to rise on your cheeks.
in an hour you’d been through a whirlwind of makeup, dresses and jewels. orange, blue, black and all, you loved each one but for some reason after the four of them discussed you’d always be taken out of it.
it wasn’t until you were placed in an off the shoulder, floor length, white dress that you remained in it. and as you looked in the mirror you couldn’t help but stare. your hair was pinned up again, and small flowers were placed throughout. you felt like a princess and finnick agreed. you hadn’t even noticed that your stylists were gone until you heard the door shut.
it was just you and finnick.
“you look incredible.” finnick whispered, he was behind you now. his hand had a mind of its own as it placed a stray hair behind your ear. you turned your head his way, “really?” your voice was so soft and doused in disbelief. if he wasn’t next to you he wouldn’t have heard you. his hand trailed along your neck as he placed your hair behind, he nodded. “i have something for you.”
he pulled out a small seashell, and your eyes lit up, “oh finnick.” you sighed as he placed it in your hands. “it reminded me of you, small, gorgeous.” you looked up at him with doe eyes and he felt like grabbing you and taking you away.
you were breathtaking and you looked at him as if he was god.
“thank you finn, do you mind maybe putting it in my hair?” he took the trinket and placed it above your ear, entangling in with your hair. your heels were on but untied so finnick got onto his knees before patting his knee. he grabbed the straps before tieing them. his fingertips worked quickly and his face was concentrated. he was done and he looked up at you before turning you to the mirror.
finnicks hands were on your shoulder as he leaned in to whisper, “all done, you look perfect sweetheart.” you turned before reaching up on your tiptoes, “thank you finnick!” you kissed him on his nose before turning back and finnick grinned, “aren’t you cute?” he stood behind you, attached like a shadow. your skin felt soft underneath his fingertips and he couldn’t help but wander. down your arms, to your waist, he could feel you tensing up underneath him and he could feel his face trying to fight off his smirk.
“finnick?” you breathed out, “what’re you doing?” your voice was small, and unsure. “tell me to stop.” you should. you should tell him to stop. but all you could think about was finnicks hands and how good they felt.
“it’s time!” damian shouted out as you peeled away from finnick to open the door. damian was all too happy to see you as he clapped his hands together. “ah, my special girl you are truly an angel.” finnick knew that. finnick has already said that. finnick had you in his arms and oh so close and this idiot took you away. his sweet girl.
finnick was wondering where his trident was so that he could impale him through the stomach.
“come on y/n.” he ushered you out the door but you managed to slip another look at finnick and all you saw was pure rage.
the interview went well, in your eyes at least.
caesar was as upbeat as usual and it did mostly centre around your dress and looks but you felt you could try your best to use it to your advantage.
the audience was enamoured and you felt you did your best. “and y/n, tell us, what’s your secret strategy for the games? any tricks up your sleeve?” you patted his knee before pointing at him jokingly, “well caesar, it wouldn’t be a secret if i divulged now would it?” everyone loved your answer and caesar doubled over, “aren’t you cheeky! isn’t our diamond here so playful? but a sweetheart nonetheless!” the crowd agreed loudly.
“now, since you came out i think we’ve all been wondering where that seashell came from. it doesn’t exactly match the theme of your outfit.” you could hear the murmurs from the crowd agreeing with his words.
“am i right in suspecting a certain blonde mentor of yours?” you pursed your lips and a giggle began to form as caesar pumped his fist in the air, “i think we got it! can we expect the two of you together once you win?” you’d never even had a boyfriend and here you were being put together with the finnick odair, you were sure everyone could tell how giddy you were.
you felt as if you had a million eyes on you, your whole body was heating up as you buried your head in your hands. “ah we caught her out! someone’s got a crush! but then again it’s finnick odair so don’t we all?” a bunch of cheers erupted as you beamed.
“well it was a wonderful to meet you, truly! our diamond here, y/n l/n!” screams and shouts directed your way came in full force as you waved at caesar and blew kisses to all. as you walked back you bumped into someone.
“y/n right?” the boy from three, theo.
you nodded and stuck your hand out, “nice to meet you!” he looked down at your hand and back up at you before laughing, “very formal, i like it. i’m theo, your dress is nice but i think the girl wearing it is breathtaking.” you giggled before tucking your hair behind your ear.
finnick stood with the other mentors and held himself back from shoving haymitch out the way to get him to stop rambling on. his grip on his glass was solid, so it wasn’t a surprise when it shattered. “oh my!” effie yelled out as finnick apologised before someone came to clean it up. he stepped around the person before excusing himself to get to you.
you were laughing, hard. what in panem was so funny?
you were wiping tears away from your eyes as finnick joined the two of you, his hand on your back as theo nodded at him, “finnick.” he hated him. why the hell did theo speak as if he knew him personally? his smug face was unbelievably irritating. “finnick! how’d i do?” and the second you spoke he felt the anger dissipate, he adored the way you waited for his response as if it held all the answers.
“you did well.” finnicks answer felt snippy and made you feel as if you’d done something wrong. “we should get going.” he directed you away from the boy as you shouted out, “i’ll see you around!”
the entire elevator ride was, to put it lightly, awkward. it left you feeling confined in what little space you and finnick had. “finn? are you okay?” you placed your hand on his arm and stood in-front of him. you were hoping he’d explain what was wrong but what you didn’t expect was to be pushed against the side of the elevator and finnick kissing you. his hand was on your waist again and he shuffled your dress up, slithering underneath.
you moaned in his mouth, his hands playing and gripping at your ass. in reaction, your fingers thread through his hair and your grip tightened, “finn- not here.” the elevator was glass and you were scared of people seeing. finnick found it hard to care, drunk off your perfume. in a panic, you pulled away from him, your hands cradling his face to make him listen. “i’ve… never,” the whisper hung over the both of you, the tension in the air thick and hot.
instead of being met with judgment, he murmured, “i’ll make it good for you, i promise.” finnick had finally gotten a taste, and he could only crave more. his lips met your neck, his warm tongue painting wet desire into your skin. it was almost too much for little old you, letting out quiet whimpers as he explored you. his sleeves were rolled and you needed to ground yourself, your nails dug into his veiny arms. “finn-” you protested but he could tell you didn’t want to. just a little longer and he could get you to give in. “just let me feel you.”
the elevator stopping brought the two of you back as you fixed your dress and finnick fixed his own hair, running his hands through it. he directed you out of the elevator and nodded in acknowledgment to the people entering. as you walked onto your floor you were met with servants, stylists and others. it seems damian and analise had taken it upon themselves to invite some friends and you were eager to meet them.
whereas finnick wanted to rip your dress off and take you till the morning.
the same dainty hands which were running all over him were shaking others and waving as you all sat down to eat. as everyone feasted away you couldn’t help but play with your own meal. you were flushed and all you wanted was to kiss finnick again. he was sitting next to you and wasn’t hungry for food, he wanted to eat something else.
your dress didn’t hide much of your chest and when you reclined in your seat, crossing your arms and pushing up your breasts?
finnick needed to see more.
the clattering of his fork on the floor drew the attention of some, but they went back to their conversations and bets. “i’ll get it for you.” you pushed back your seat and got down to your knees, flicking up the tables sheet and searched around for it before hitting cold metal. you reached your hand out with the fork to finnick. his cock was throbbing at the image of you on the floor, chest on display and a sweet smile on your face. he bent down and grinned, “you look good on your knees sweetheart.”
his words went straight down between your legs and your mouth fell open at his words.
such vulgar words from such a beautiful man.
his hand came down to close your jaw. you felt, weird. as you sat back on your chair you felt warm? but a good warm? it was tantalising. you wondered if it was normal.
finnick would tell you right?
“finnick.” his head turned your way, “what is it y/n?” you leaned closer and so did he, your hands cupped around his ear, “i feel weird.” his eyebrows shot up as a sign of interest, “oh? what’s wrong honey? where do you feel weird?” you gulped, your throat felt dry and for some reason it felt dirty to talk about.
your eyes drifted downwards and as you looked up finnicks eyes seemed darker. “here?” his touch was soft on your thigh underneath the table as you gasped.
“everything all right dear?” sarah questioned as you nodded. it felt so good, his touch. but it wasn’t exactly where needed, his hand trailed closer and higher, until it was gone. your head snapped up at him as he smirked at you, mocking you.
for the rest of the night he didn’t even pay attention to you. and you had no clue why.
you couldn’t sleep after the day you had and all your mind was thinking of was finnick. finnicks hands, his arms, his mouth, his words.
“i don’t bite, unless you want me to.”
“yes, here.”
“i’ll make it so good for you.”
“just let me feel you.”
“you look good on your knees sweetheart.”
your room was too quiet, making it unchallenging for your thoughts to run wild at the anticipation of finnick odair. you couldn’t bear it, so you left to the busiest room you could think of.
your leg was shaking up and down and your mind was pacing whilst your body couldn’t. the butterflies were practically knocking around in your stomach and you hoped perhaps finnick could help. he’d help you right? but he didn’t before. maybe he was just tired? you were so desperate for help and answers that you’d forgone knocking and walked right in.
only to be met with an extremely wet finnick odair.
by your luck your eyes were probably poking out of your head at the sight of him, you couldn’t help but stare. it was your first time being in the same room as a man so, naked? for the lack of a better word, he still had a very short towel wrapped around his bottom half. was it small? or did he make it look small?
“see something you like sweetie?” god his voice was so saccharine, how the hell did his voice work you up? “i- i wanted to t-talk.” and you were stuttering, great! he walked closer to you and you stepped back, all the way into his wall. “yeah? does my pretty girl wanna talk?” you nodded along dumbly as your breath quickened. “words sweetie, use your words.” you swallowed, “yes.”
his thumb caressed your cheek before brushing along your lips, “you sure you just want to talk?” and there they were, the butterflies. you shook your head, “no? what do you want?” you played with your night dress, “you?” it was a soft murmur and finnick wanted you to beg. he’d been pining after you since the second he saw you, it’s only fair right?
“where do you want me?” his words were hot in your ear, his body was wet and your white night dress was suddenly see through. his hand rested on your ass, “here?” you shook your head, “no?” his thumb brushed over your nipple as your nails pressed into his neck, pulling him into yours. your breath was heavy and he was unrelenting.
his hand moved from your ass to cup your front as you gasped, “here?” you nodding along dumbly, “please finnick, i’ve been wanting you for the whole day, i’ll be good for you i promise.” your words were music to his ears, “yeah? you’re gonna be good f’me?”
“yes, yes, yes.” you whined as you wrapped your arms around his neck. standing on your tiptoes as you bit your lip. “you gonna let me use you yeah? do whatever i want?” you were practically jumping up and down at this point, your tits with you. your straps were pushed down as your dress fell down to the floor. his cock was throbbing at the sight of you, he’d been waiting for this.
“then on your knees honey.” you were quick to obey as he pushed you down to the cold floor, his towel quickly ripped off, courtesy of you.
it was your first time doing anything sexual so any cock was bound to be big in your eyes. finnick loved the sight of you on your knees, innocent as ever. fully nude, hands slotted nicely between your thighs. he wanted to ruin you. he ran his hand along his dick, pumping it before resting the tip on your lips.
as if you were on auto-control, your lips parted to let him through. a salty taste flooded through your mouth as he cooed down at you.
“you’re doing so well for me.”
“pretty baby on her knees, who knew you’d be such a slut?”
your eyes flickered up at him as you moved your head forwards on your own accord. “fuck.” he groaned as you replaced his hands with yours.
he wanted to go easy on you.
but kitten licks at the tip and soft kisses weren’t doing it for him. you opened your mouth again, gaining confidence and feeding off of finnicks praises. his large hand placed on the back of your head, fingers spread out as he thrusted down your throat.
the sounds that filled his room were lewd. squelches and groans as you tried your best to keep going. your cheeks hollowed out as finnick guided you, “relax your throat, try breathe through your nose. if it’s too much just tap my thigh sweetie.”
you retracted, catching your breath as you gazed up at him whilst simultaneously blinking away the tears in your eyes but a few fell free. he couldn’t help but moan. your messy mouth mixed with your saliva and his pre-cum. “you think theo’s this big? you think he could make you choke on his dick?” you shook your head immediately.
his member felt cold without the warmth of your mouth, but he was feeling nice so he let you take a break. “too big for you sweetie?” you shook your head furiously, “naw is my baby tough?” you giggled as you wrapped your lips around him again, your tongue flat against the underside of his dick as he eased himself in. “ah- fuck.”
but he can only hold out for so long as he began to fasten his pace, chasing his high. your fingers dug into his thighs right under his ass, for some reason you seemed to have something to prove as you took him all the way. your moans egged him on as his hips thrust forwards, “so good f’me, my s-sweet girl.” his praises fueled you on as your nose met his naval. salty tears fell down your cheeks and finnick was in his right mind to lick them all up.
god you were better than he’d imagined. and trust him, he’d imagined a lot.
“swallow for me yeah? be a good girl and open wide.” thick cum coated your tongue as you gladly accepted. finnick proudly gazed upon your painted face. watery eyes, sticky face. all for him. you gulped it down before wiping off the remaining waste on your face, eyeing finnick up before licking it off your fingers.
“what happened to the diamond? only a whore for me right?” your fingers were wet as you pulled them out. “uh-huh.” your agreed as he pulled you up. “do you even know what that means?” he teased as you puckered your lips before shaking your head. “thought so, you wanna be good for me?” you nodded, “on the bed baby.”
you sat down on the bed as you waited for finnick to join you. he situated himself between your legs, running his hands along them. “lean back for me. you took me so well, you want me to make you feel good too?” your eyes widened at the idea, “yes please finn.” his hands reached up and rested under your breasts, “i don’t know if you’ve earned it honey.” your lips twisted into a slight frown, your waterline glazing over.
“i was! i did what you asked finn, please.”
he palmed your breast, massaging it softly as you threw your head back, “please. please keep going.” your begging was more than enough for him, his baby asked so nicely no?
“yeah? you like me playing with you?” incoherent babbles fell from your lips as finnicks mouth kissed your breast. his hand trailed down to feel you, and he was met with warm wetness. the moan you let out was ungodly, “finnick please! oh god it feels so- so good.” he couldn’t help admire you, eyes screwed shut, hands clutching the pristine white sheets.
“oh baby, can you be quiet for me? quiet for finn?” a string of ‘uh-huhs’ came from your mouth as finnick slid a finger into you, a tight fit. “oh my god!” you yelped before slamming your hand over your mouth. he was knuckle deep as he worked his finger in before curling it, then another, then another. his free hand was pushing your hips down into the mattress as your hips lifted upwards with every move he made.
“finnick, finnick. you feel so good.” you cried out as he retracted his fingers before curling them upwards. he knew exactly what to do, where to be, what to say. his name fell from your lips like a prayer and your nails raked down his back as he grunted.
now, finnicks fingers were one thing, but his mouth?
his tongue pressed against your clit and you swear you saw god, finnick was probably the god. his tongue flicked over your clit as his fingers entered your cunt again, the pressure in your stomach was building so high you were afraid of the fall.
a wave of pleasure fell over you as finnick talked you through it, “that’s it baby, let go.” he hovered over you as his fingers worked your cunt. your nails had bloodied his back, scratched raw. as you moved your fingers finnick hissed into your ear. “m’ sorry, m’ so so sorry.” your head was spinning and you wanted to rest, but apparently finnick had other ideas as he lowered himself to your core. your mind was hazy as your hand clutched the pillow your head laid on, the other twisted in his hair.
“what’re you doing?” finnicks green eyes pierced through you as he raised his head from in between your thighs. featherlight kisses trailed upwards to your pussy as your thighs twitched and closed around his head, still sensitive as ever. “just want a taste, clean you up.” he mumbled as he tongue breached your entrance and you were back where you were before.
this man was driven youd give him that.
“finn s’ too much, please.” your words were slurred as he delved inside. he couldn’t find it in himself to let up, you were so sweet, he just wanted a taste. so he kept going, his tongue, his hands, his words. if there was one thing you knew about finnick it was that he could talk anyone into anything. so you found yourself squirming underneath his strong arms, forearm pinning you down to the bed as he made your back arch and your toes curl.
“sweet baby, so sweet.” all attempts of getting away, only caused him to get annoyed with you, can’t you just lay down and let him ruin you? at this point it was for his pleasure rather than yours. your thighs were practically squeezing his head and neck but he kept going. you didn’t know where to put your hands, pulling his hair was no good. your hand somehow ended up on your clit, moving in a circular motion as the other palmed your breast.
each time he made you come you rested your head, energy depleted. but again he ended up between your legs and pathetic pleas from you did nothing to make him stop.
“wanna make you feel good.”
“just one more, you can take it sweetheart.”
when your fourth rolled around you were so far gone. “pretty baby, not a single thought up there huh?” you couldn’t even bring yourself to respond, and he didn’t expect you to. he brushed away the stray hairs from your face and kissed you passionately. “you did so well f’me honey. made me proud, you got one more in you for me?” it wasn’t a question, his dick was painfully hard and he only knew of one solution.
you tiredly shook your head, “no more finny.” he grinned, “no? you don’t want my cock?” your breath hitched at his words and you knew you were fucked. “mhm. want it.” you were reduced to one to two words in a sentence.
“yeah you do. on your knees baby.” you tiredly rolled over, situating yourself on your knees and the palms of your hands as finnick kneaded your ass. his hands grazed over the skin before-
smack!
“think you should be able to see yourself baby.” his hand yanked at your hair as you found your reflection glaring back at you. “so pretty, aren’t you?” finnick knew you were horrible at accepting compliments and he was more than happy to use it against you.
smack!
you’d taken too long to answer, but based on finnicks smug expression you could tell he was hoping for it. “you have to answer baby.” finnicks arm came across your waist, pulling you up, flush with his chest as his hands pawed at your chest.
“you wanna be my baby yeah?” you could only manage moans and finnick was not happy. he threw you forwards as you caught yourself with your hands infront of you.
smack!
“fucked you so good you can’t even talk.” he taunted you as he dragged his cock in between your drenched folds. finnicks groans were deep, and so hot. “you know how long i wanted to fuck you baby? in that short skirt on the train? when you licked up that cream? my girls dirty huh?” you didn’t respond and it only fuelled his fire, he’d wanted you for so long and now you had the audacity to ignore him?
he thrusted into you without warning and you screamed out. “want to act like a slut? i’ll treat you like one. fuck!” your walls were squeezing down on him, sucking him in and he was more than happy to oblige. his hips snapped against your ass as you gripped onto the sheets for dear life. his grip on your hips bruised, leaving a fiery impression in their wake. finnick had stamina for days, he was strong and built. you were small and fragile, finnick was glad to be the one to break you in.
he pulled you up to him again as he kissed you frantically, capturing your bottom lip in between his teeth. he was relentless in his pursuit for his high, he marked up any place he could as he continued to drive into you with determination.
“bet you dreamed of this, of me.” his hand gripped your throat, his eyes bore into your own, finnick was inescapable. every touch, every thrust, all him. you were enveloped in his being and he worshipped yours. finnick continued to pound into you harshly, cock gliding easily against your inner walls. he was deep inside but he wanted to be deeper. “yes! yes! harder!” you cried out.
his hand pressed down onto your stomach, “feel that?” his breath was prominent by your ear, “oh god!” you exclaimed, it felt as if you were filled to the brim as he bottomed out in you. thick, hot cum released into you as his and your moans were raising in pitch and his hips began to stutter.
the room was filled with the sound of slapping skin, the promise of silence forgotten. “let go baby, you’re close. let go.” the two of you had eachother and it was more than enough. his groans were deep and animalistic as he spilled himself inside you. your hand reached behind you to caress his neck. thank yous spilled out from you, your whole being was ignited, you never knew you could feel so good.
the two of you lied together, entangled in sheets and a mess of limbs. you couldn’t tell where finnick odair began and y/n l/n started. all you knew was that he was yours, and you were his.
you’d fallen asleep a bit ago, your chest rising and falling steadily. finnicks arm curled around you as you rested on his chest. from the moonlight spilling into his room he could view the bruises tattering your smooth skin. as he traced over them he couldn’t help but grin, he could imagine you limping in the arena.
you sure as hell weren’t forgetting him anytime soon.
7K notes · View notes
pomegranatesarchive · 7 months ago
Text
it’s never over | sebastian vettel
pairing: sebastian vettel x actress!reader
summary: ten fateful years ago, y/n and sebastian vettel broke up, breaking hearts all over the world. present day, y/n starts leaving small hints about finding another lover. the world goes crazy.
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liked by redbullracing, and 284,920 others!
ynandsebplscomeback: we are gathered here today, to mourn the loss of yn and sebastian vettels relationship. 10 years ago today, their breakup was announced, shattering the hearts of millions. please, we ask for a ten minute silence from you all, thank you.
view comments below!
user1: pls-i can’t take this rn 💔
user2: IT BEEN TEN YEARS??????
user3: ten depressing ass years
user4: the way we all thought they were coming back when they were sennas memorial tribute 🧍
user5: THEY WERE TALKING AND GIGGLING IT UP!!!!!! THEY TRICKED US 💔
redbullracing: 💔💔.
user6: i honestly think nobody was more hurt about the breakup then the redbull admin. they have been liking y/n+seb content since they broke up 😭😭
user7: THEY BROKE UP SO SEB COULD FOCUS ON HIS CAREER. HE NO LONGER HAS A CAREER SO THEY NEED TO GET BACK TOGHER RIGHT NOW.
user8: i remember when seb announced his retirement and everyone was so happy??? because this meant a more chance of y/n and him getting back together 😭
user9: i can’t do this right now. maybe tomorrow. not today.
user10: everyday i pray they get back together, today i will pray harder.
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liked by redbullracing, charles_leclerc, and 837,205 others!
yourusername: calm days 💗
view comments below!
user11: no….no…no this can’t be
user12: who tf is that
user13: WHAT IS THIS?? ON THE TEN YEAR ANNIVERSARY?? WHY WOULD YOU DO THIS
user14: m-maybe that’s seb?? pls cmon tell me it’s seb. y/n i beg.
user15: you’re dating another white man and it ISNT seb??? this is unacceptable.
redbullracing: why would you do this to me
yourusername: ?
user16: DONT. do not. question mark us right now.
user17: THAT ISNT SEB Y/N AND YOU KNOW IT.
user18: guys don’t worry!! that’s definitely seb!! just look at the finger tips…i compared them to other pictures of seb and it’s literally him!
user19: this is what crazy looks like
charles_leclerc: 🤩🤩
user20: WHAT DO YOU KNOW CHARLES
user21: SEE because if it WASNT seb charles definitely wouldn’t have commented. he’s the biggest y/n+seb shipper, behind the redbull admin ofc
user22: unless i see that man man’s face, and im 1003847% certain it isn’t seb. i will continue to believe that it is sebastian and they reconnected and are planning to live happily ever after 😝😝
user23: can you guys stop harassing y/n for moving on after 10 years 😑😑
user24: seb and y/n haven’t dated anyone since they split. i feel like it’s time for her to move on. this is good for her
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liked by yourusername, scuferiaferrari, and 962,927 others!
sebastianvettel: calmer days!
view comments below!
user25: wait a damn minute
user26: ITS HAPPENING STAY CALM EVERYONE STAY FUCKING CALM
user27: that’s y/ns leg. i fucking know it.
user28: AND HER HAND!! ITS HER FUCKING HAND GUYS!!
user29: WAR IS OVER
user30: omg wait i’m crying
user31: istg if this turns out to NOT be y/n. i will be killing myself.
redbullracing: are those the birds chirping? the sun shining?
user32: i know admin is jump in up and down in happiness
user33: OKAY GUYS WIAT WAIT WAIT J BEED TO PROCESS THIS. I NEED TIME
charles_leclerc: ❤️❤️
user34. HE KBEW!! HE FUCKING KNEW!!
user34: wait he knew….
user34: YOU FUCKING KNEW AND DIDNT SAY ANYTHING FOR GOD KNOWS HOW LONG?? YOU SICK SICK FUCK
user35: nobody will ever understand how happy i am right now
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liked by redbullracing, yourusername, and 1,730,026 others!
sebastianvettel: happy one year anniversary to my beautiful beautiful wife ❤️❤️ here’s to many more!
view comments below!
redbullracing: what
redbullracing: is this a joke?
redbullracing: please don’t mess with me like this
redbullracing: OMG
redbullracing: OH MY GOD
user36: holy. fucking. shit.
user37: you sick fuckers. YOU HAVE SEEN WHAT YOUR BREAKUP CAUSED AND ALL THIS TIME YOUVE BEEN MARRIED???
user38: FOR A WHOLE ASS YEAR NO LESS
user39: i don’t know if im happy that your married or mad that you LET ME THINK YOU WERE STILL BROKEN UP
user40: so many mixed emotions rn
user41: this is making my head hurt…in a good way
user42: THIS MEANS THEY WERE TIGTHER DURING THE SENNA TRIBUTE. I FUCKING KNEW IT.
charles_leclerc: happy one year 👏👏❤️
user43: okay but how did charles keep this a secret…
user44: RIGHT?? i feel liked he’d be the first to accidentally say something 😭
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liked by sebastianvettel, charles_leclerc, and 964,016 others!
yourusername: my beautiful beautiful husband 💗 one year down! many more to come!!
view comments below!
redbullracing: my god it’s real…
redbullracing: MY GOD ITS REAL
redbullracing: AHHHHHH
user45: this is the most relatable thing ever
user46; thank you gods 🙏🙏🙏
user47: ive reached peak happiness
user48: okay but when are we getting wedding pics???🤨
user49: NO FUCK THIS. i need a timeline of EVERYTHING. when they met, when the got together, when they b-broke up, WHEN THEY STARTED DATING AGAIN??, when they got engaged, AND WHEN THEY GOT FUCKING MARRIED???
user50: what kills me is that we will probably never get this information 💔💔
user51: i can die peacefully now, thank you y/n ❤️
. . .
notes; my first seb smau, hope you enjoy!! :)
2K notes · View notes
oikasugayama · 1 year ago
Text
YOU TELL HIM THAT YOU'RE H0RN¥
PREMISE: You're just friends, but you wanna test the boundaries. How does he react when you tell him that you're horny?
INCLUDES: Akutagawa, Dazai, Nikolai, Poe, Atsushi, Ranpo
No smut, heavy on dialogue. These are goofy!! One part only.
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Akutagawa
That gif is the horny taking over his body.
"Akutagawa."
"Hm?"
"I'm horny."
He looks up at you, face somewhere between horror-stricken and confused.
"Why would you say such a thing to me?"
"Obviously because I want you to do something about it."
"What?"
"I said--"
"--No, no, I heard you the first time."
"So?"
"So what?"
"Sooo, do you want to have sex, orrr?"
Akutagawa stares blankly at something nearby for a solid minute, completely silent, and then stands up abruptly.
"Yes. Let's go to a love hotel."
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Dazai
"Dazaaaaai. I'm horny," you whine, an over-exaggerated pout on your face.
"Ohh? Shall I help you take care of that?" He purrs, exaggeratedly flirting. "I'll treat you reaaaal nice." He winks, ready for you to say something like "ew no, freak" and laugh it off like usual. Except...
"God, yes. I was gonna ask."
"Huh?" He short-circuits. He pauses, trying to figure out if you're fucking with him or not. Usually you'd start laughing after two or three seconds, but you're standing up and walking toward him--
"Holy shit. Oh my god, you're serious?!" He jumps up from his chair, eyes lighting up, and horny stirring in his pants. "If you're joking you have to tell me right now."
"Why don't you come with me to the broom closet and see if I'm joking?"
"This is the greatest day of my life," he says as you pull him along.
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Nikolai
"I'm really horny, so you're gonna have to stop looking so hot or I'm gonna have to leave."
The grin he already wore spread wider across his face.
"Is that so?"
He summons and portal and in the blink of an eye is crowding you in your space, laying a hand on your thigh, breathing on your neck.
"What's doing it for you, dovey? Is it the beautiful, luscious hair? My devilishly handsome smile?"
"It's those fucking thunder thighs in the striped pants is what it is," you huff, trying to push him back, but he takes your hands and moves your arms to be around his shoulders.
"I can keep them on while I fuck you," he says lowly into your ear. "Would you like that?"
You pull him against you.
"Put your money where your mouth is, Nikolai."
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Poe
"Poe, I'm having a really nice time hanging out with you and all, but I have to be honest: I'm really horny, so I probably need to go home before I start trying to fuck you."
He is so flustered that he can't even form a sentence. What you can see of his face is beet red, and he scrambles for the door. You think he's going to open it and usher you out, but he presses his back against it, blocking your exit.
"No," he finally says, "Don't leave."
"Poe, you're in the danger zone. If I don't relieve some tension I'm gonna get really grouchy."
"I can help," he stutters out.
"Huh?"
He starts trying to apologize, but you laugh and cross the room to him.
"I didn't expect you to be into it," you admit. "I definitely said it to get your attention, but I thought you'd say no."
"Then I have not made my feelings known enough."
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Atsushi
"Can I ask you a stupid question?"
"Sure!" Atsushi responds enthusiastically. Your head is laying in his lap and you're staring blankly at the ceiling.
"Do you ever get horny when you hang out with your friends?"
"Uhh, I don't think that's something that happens with your friends," he says, and you turn to look up at him.
"It doesn't? Like, you've never gotten horny while spending time with me?"
"Uhh..." His face slowly starts turning red.
"I've gotten horny hanging out with you. I'm kind of horny right now, honestly."
"UMMMMM..........."
"So you're saying that right now my face being near your dick isn't turning you on?"
"I wouldn't say that..."
"I sure hope you wouldn't because I think I can literally feel you getting hard against my skull. Do you wanna stop talking and start making out now?"
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Ranpo
"I'm horny."
"I know."
"What? How do you know?"
"You keep squirming in your seat, you're trying to arch your back when you lean your elbow on the table, and you keep biting your lip when you think I'm not looking at you."
"But you must be looking at me because you noticed all of that. But I haven't seen your eyes on me."
"I'm watching you from the corner of my eye like I usually do."
"Oh? And why would you be watching me, Ranpo?"
"Because I like to?" he says like it's obvious.
"Do you have a little crush on me, Ranpo?"
"Wouldn't you like to know. If only you have my super deduction you'd know."
"I don't think I need super deduction to know. I think I can figure it out in one question."
"Oh? Try me."
"When are you going to fuck me?"
He tries to bite back a smile but he can't. He finally looks directly at you, and it tells you everything you need to know.
"Your place or mine?"
4K notes · View notes
wonderjanga · 1 month ago
Text
Stuck
Billy has been Captain Marvel since the middle of April. It’s the beginning of July. And that’s not how long Billy’s been Marvel as a whole, no, he’s been a hero for nearly two years. That’s currently how long Billy’s been in his Marvel form.
This all happened because of a, quite frankly stupid mistake. It wasn’t even a magical mistake, just an ignorant and naive one.
Billy: *walking past an alley and hears the sound of someone hurt*
His first mistake was even stopping because of that voice.
Billy: *hesitantly walks into the alley* “Hello? Is someone hurt-”
Thief: *stabs him and pushes him over before realizing he just stabbed a little kid* “Holy shit! A kid!?” *sounds horrified*
The thief then fled the scene, not even bothering to try and actually steal when he realized what he had just done. When Billy finally broke away from the fuzziness of his mind and came to it, he was laying face up on the ground and feeling a sharp pain blossom from his side. His hand moved and he could feel some blood seep past his fingers. Uh oh.
So, on the verge of death and partially delirious from the worsening blood loss, he said his magic word and was lightninged into Captain Marvel. Even as the Captain, he continued laying on the ground. The reason being that he was replaying what happened in his mind and trying to ignore the leftover blood that had been left on the alley floor. It was definitely seeping into his cape, yet he couldn’t find it in himself to get up. Why he was too busy thinking about how absolutely fucked he was over the all the concerned yelling from the DTC.
Marvel: ‘Oh my Gods. I’m going die.’
Mercury: “BILLY, WHY THE FUCK WOULD YOU EVER GO IN A CREEPY ALLEY???”
Solomon: “He thought someone was in trouble, Mercury. Calm down.” *actually sounds the slightest bit panicked*
Zeus: “Calm down?! Solomon, the boy got STABBED!”
Hercules: “Solomon, what do we do? Is the Batson boy going to die?”
Solomon: “No. Not if he stays in his godly form at least.”
Achilles: “You hear that, Batson? Don’t you dare utter that word until we find a way to fix this!” *if Billy could see him, he would be wagging his finger*
So yeah. Thats why he’s been Marvel for a little over month and a half. See, it turns out that he can’t really do anything. His body was in stasis, completely frozen in time. That meant the wound wouldn’t heal or disappear like he prayed it would. No, it would just be there until he maybe switches back and dies from blood loss, which is something he’d rather not do. You can see his dilemma.
So what did he do to combat the impending feeling of dread that he’ll never get to be Billy again? He threw himself into hero work because to be quite frank, he needed a distraction. And that’s how you could see Captain Marvel in fucking Oregon, then South Dakota, and then Alabama helping whoever. He literally expanded his patrol to cover the entire country aside from cities that were already protected by heroes. After about two of doing this, of course, this caught the attention of others, but the last person he expected was Amanda Waller. She came to him alone after he stopped a car crash in Washington.
Amanda: “Captain Marvel.”
Marvel: *looks over* “Aren’t you Ms. Waller? Is there a problem, ma’am?”
Amanda: “Yes. You’ve been seen going around the entire country. I thought you supers only stuck to your cities.”
Marvel: “I… Well, most of us do. I just have a lot of free time on my hands lately. Do you need me to back off?” *really doesn’t want her to want him to back off because running around the country has actually been a really good distraction*
Amanda: “No. Not for now. Tell me, what do you mean by free time?”
Marvel: “Uh…” *confused as to why she cares* “I guess you could say I switched to heroing full time.”
Amanda: “Interesting.” *stares at him intensely*
Marvel: *starts to get nervous cause her stare reminds him of Batman a little* “Y’know, Miss Waller, Supes tells me your bad news all the time. Something about you hating us?”
Amanda: “He’s right. I don’t respect your kind and the slightest.”
Marvel: “My kind?”
Amanda: “Superheroes. You’re a threat to national security but you can also be useful if you’re on the government’s side.”
Marvel: Is this you proposing that I join up with you guys again?
Amanda: “Unfortunately, yes. Before the 60s, superheroes used to practically work for the government. So, I have a proposal for you.”
She wanted him to do some contractual jobs for the government. Which was no biggie. He remembers doing a few with the other Fawcett heroes and even some with the JSA.
Marvel: ‘Do you think we can trust her, Solomon?’
Solomon: “Just barely. I don’t believe she’ll stab you in the back, not yet anyways. I assume you’ll be working with that so called ‘Suicide Squad’ so she’ll likely want someone to keep them in line. That and aside from the shark man, they probably want another heavy hitter.”
And with that, Marvel shrugged and said “sure, why not?” It was more work for him to busy himself with anyways. Now, he won’t admit it to any of coworkers, but those Suicide Squad guys are actually pretty fun if you ignore that half of them are psychopaths and murderers. Captain Boomerang especially. The man was really funny when he cursed out people. There was also Harley Quinn, or Harley as she asked him to call her, who was also pretty funny too. Also, there was a lot of killing that occurred on these missions. Like, a lot.
Harley: “Geez, Cheese! I didn’t think I’d ever see a super so blood lusted before!”
Marvel: “Ah… my bad. It’s been a long while since I’ve been allowed to do something like this without having to worry about Mr. Batman Sir kicking me out the league for it.”
Captain Boomerang: “Huh…? Mate, are you saying you’ve killed people before?”
Marvel: “Yes?” *honestly surprised they didn’t know* “Back in the olden days when your parents were maybe kids, heroes were allowed to kill. That included me. Though I only stuck to murderers and rapists and all the junk. *wipes a bloody hand on Deadshot’s back*
Deadshot: “Wha- don’t wipe your fucking hand on me!”
Marvel: *stares for like three seconds before wiping his hand on him again*
Deadshot: *takes out his gun as if that’ll do anything* “I just said stop that.”
Though, his contracts for the missions ended after about a month and he said bye to them about a month later.
After his relatively short time with them, he went back to basically patrolling the country again. Which, although it wasn’t mentioned before, made his popularity as a sensational hero increase because this man wasn’t just protecting his city, he was protecting his country.
Now, left to his own devices once again, Billy let his mind wander as he was rescuing people from a burning building in California.
He thought about Fawcett. About his job at Whiz. Gosh, he was probably- no, definitely fired due to the month and a half of absence. (He wasn’t. Mr. Morris and the staff were all worried sick about what happened to him.) There was also Freddy. He’d only see the boy every now and then when he looked down to the crowds in the city. He wondered if he was upset. He’d hoped not. At this moment, Billy really really wished he had told Freddy about him being Captain Marvel. That way he wouldn’t feel so alone.
Oh, but you can’t forget the Justice League. Don’t think any of this behavior has gone unnoticed. They have been thinking about ways to bring this up to Marvel for a while. The team finally hit its breaking point when Batman shared that Marvel had been seen talking with Amanda Waller, and working with the Suicide Squad. How they found out? On one of the missions, the Squad had gotten caught and taken into a secret organization’s base. (They weren’t actually. They were mostly pretending so they could just get inside.) This was an organization Batman had been monitoring for a while. As a result, the man had obviously hacked the system and made sure to get updates on anything new. Imagine his surprise when he sees the pictures of each Squad member, including Marvel, all rocking the organization’s prison uniforms. So yeah, not Billy’s best moment for Bruce to catch him in.
Supes: “I just don’t understand! Why would you work with them?! They’re villains!”
Marvel: “I’m sorry! I just needed something to do. They’re really not that bad once you get to know them.”
Supes: “Not that- NOT THAT BAD?!”
Marvel got yelled at for like 20 minutes and only after making numerous promises about, never working with them again, did they finally let up.
Another month later, and that brings us to the present. It’s still the beginning of July. Billy didn’t know how much longer he could take this. He was growing restless because he might have to be Marvel forever. His villains were growing restless due to the fact that he kept leaving Fawcett and was barely around anymore. And unbeknownst to him, Freddy and Mr. Morris were already restless looking everywhere for him.
Thankfully, the Wizard finally came up with a solution that might actually work. It involved the Rock and a whole bunch of complicated magic. Billy wasn’t willing to explain. Anyways, the first thing Billy did when he finally was allowed to be Billy again, was go find Freddy.
Freddy: *walking down the sidewalk, keeping an ear and an eye out for any news of Billy*
Billy: *looking around for Freddy and spots him from behind* “Freddy…?”
Freddy: *pauses and whips around* “Billy!?”
Billy and Freddy: *stare at each other for a bit*
Billy didn’t even get to register what was going on before Freddy rushed over as fast as he could. The other boy dropped his crutch in favor of crumpling against his friend in a tight hug. They ended up sobbing together on a bench after that.
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utterlyazriel · 1 year ago
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how long have i searched for you?
azriel finds his mate in the most inopportune time and he convinces himself you haven't sought him out for good reason. he couldn't be more wrong. word count: 4.6k & god bless @strangerstilinski for making this fic ever get written <3
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Though he'd deny it if ever asked, most of all to Cassian, there was a part of Azriel that had spent years upon years yearning for what it would be like when he met his mate.
A chance encounter. A friend of a friend. A shared look across a crowded room, your eyes catching, where you both suddenly just know.
A thousand possible ways to meet, to find each other. Azriel had run every scenario through his head, ten times over, both soothed and aching at the dreadful mixture of hope and doubt he had. With his rotten luck, he was probably doomed to a life without ever finding his mate. If he even had one.
However, in all his years of hoping and wishing, not once could he say that he'd imagined meeting his mate the way he did.
In a flash; a brush up during the battle of Velaris, where you, a healer, had stumbled into his life. There had been only a moment amongst all the chaos, where this deep strong pull had risen in his chest, glowing and hot like he'd never felt before.
His head had snapped around, finding the source in a heartbeat. Everything leading to you.
But it hadn't been the time, no matter that you had clearly felt it too, the glow, the pull, given away with your wide eyes and parted lips. Battle was being sieged on Velaris and despite every instinct in Azriel that roared at him to stay with you, to take you from the danger, he had a duty to fulfill.
And then, even once the battle finished, the war was waged and won, when was there time? Azriel could feel it in him, the yearning that seemed to sing from his very blood — he itched to go find you. However, there was still much to do, still orders from Rhys to carry out, mission and meetings to attend to.
Besides, you hadn't sought him out either.
So, when the chaos calmed finally and he finally had time to breathe, Azriel did not seek you out. He waited. He longed.
But if you wished to stay away and never see him, then Azriel would respect it. He would never impose on your life if you did not wish it, no matter how long he had waited for his mate.
One month of quiet life rolled on.
Today, the weather in Velaris greatly contrasted his state. Exhausted from his mission and a tad more scratched up that he had hoped to be, Azriel feels like a cloud on the city's sparkling sky. He's dirty, half soaked, and probably dripping blood and mud all over the tiles.
Gods, he was tired.
The fly back to the House of Wind had been harder, his landing a little ungraceful due to the slices he bore on his wings. Not the worst of his injuries but still, they throbbed painfully and Azriel felt the rivets of rain and blood trickling along them. His wings gave a little shudder and even his shadows seemed to droop.
"And he returns—" Cassian's voice announced his arrive before his feet had even touched onto the balcony. Upon the sight of his brother, hunched and not his usual self, his tone shifted quickly. "Holy Cauldron, what happened to you?"
Azriel bristled, schooling away his sneer at the thought of the fight he just won. He rolled his shoulders back, biting back his wince at the tenderness of his wounds, and grimaced.
"Same thing that always does, brother."
Cassian frowned, his concern evident with the furrow between his brows. "You're going to see a healer."
His tanned hand gestured to Azriel's drooping wing. His question was more of an instruction. Azriel felt apprehension roll through him, torn between the sweet relief he know would come with having his wounds tended to and the first healer he could think of: you.
He shook the thought away. Nearly two months since he'd first seen you had passed and he found himself infuriated with how his brain seemed intent on taunting him. You pervaded his thoughts just as frequently as you did on that first day, even with your distance.
"Madja does not reside here anymore."
"So?" Cassian pressed. "Gods, I will take you myself if I must."
Azriel huffed. He knew Cassian could make good on his words and as another ache rippled through his back, making every slice on his skin known, he let himself relent. Besides, what were the chances of his healer being you?
"I will go." Azriel replied, straightening up his slumped shoulders. A hint of smugness crossed Cassian's face before he smiled, genuine as he lay his hand on Azriel's shoulder.
"Before you go," Cassian said, beginning to grin. "Did you wipe the floor with them?"
Azriel's lips quirked, a semblance of a smile. He inhaled, preparing himself for one more course of travel before he could rest. "Of course."
The second flight had agony clawing deeper within his wings, a protest with every strong beat of them, as he flew to the Apothecary down amongst the city's heart. The surging pain fought for his attention, like a poison writhing beneath his bones, and Azriel was nearly embarrassed at his hard landing.
It was loud, his boots slamming down into the pavement before the Apothecary, his wings flaring to catch him. He could feel the tremor in his muscles, each leg held taut. He looked up at his destination.
The building before him was a sage green, white trims around each of the windows. Within, through the panes of glass, Azriel could see a healer jump at his sudden entrance. His shadows wisped around him rapidly, as though they might soften his abrupt interruption.
Azriel straightened up, tucking his wings in as he reined himself in. He could feel his emotions boiling up within him, swirling and rising as he peered in the window before him. Apprehension tinged with something he wouldn't acknowledge, something too close to hope.
The glow in his chest was back. You must be near.
Azriel wasn't sure what was winning; the absolute urge to follow the tug on his chest to find the person on the other end of it, or the part of him that would prefer never knowing if you wanted him or not.
The bell above the door jingled quietly as he pushed it open. He was careful to mind his mess, far too aware of how he was tracking half a mountain of dirt in with him. Eyes scanned over each thing in the room, calculating in a way he always was.
Around him, his shadows had gotten zippier, darting about and back to him; as though, they too, could sense the nearness of his mate.
The Fae behind the counter stared, wide-eyed, whether at his shadows or simply himself. Azriel willed them to calm as best he could. They were being unnaturally eager to leave his side.
"Hello," Azriel started, unsure on the proper procedures. He wondered if just gesturing to himself might work. The Fae behind the counter, a fair women with dark hair, seemed to finally shake herself out of it.
"Hello!" She amended her behaviour quickly. Her hand waved behind her, gesturing to the corridor that stretched out behind her. "Let's do something about those wounds. If you head down and take the last door on the left, y/n will be available to get you on the mend."
The name she spoke sent a pang through Azriel and he wondered, he hoped, if a name that beautiful could potentially belong to you. Maybe, he would be better to request someone else, if it was you down the end of the hall. Hesitance kept him rooted to the floor. His eyes sweeping down the hall and back to the Fae woman before him.
"Thank you," He finally murmured. His began walking, passing the counter and heading down the hallway — mindful of his drooping, tired wings that threatened to leave a trail behind him.
Final door on the left. Azriel paused before it, deciding to knock before he entered. He could hear someone inside, bustling around in the space. His knuckles grazed against the door.
"Come in!"
A voice like honey called out, wrapping around him like the softest silk, every nerve in him trilling and burning. Azriel swallowed heavily, knowing who must be on the other side of that door. He should walk back up that hallway. He shouldn't go through this door. He should give you the privacy you so clearly desire.
And yet, the warm glow in his chest urged him forward, urged him closer, and Azriel couldn't resist being selfish. Just this once, just to see you once more. He pushed the door open and slid silently in the room.
You're everything.
Gods, as he laid his eyes on you now, Azriel had to commend himself for ever managing to keep himself from you. You’re ethereal — and the glowing tug on his chest had expanded ten-fold as you turned to face him, every ounce of his being yearning, aching, to be closer to you.
Azriel was a strong man but even he couldn’t help the way his body swayed closer, a ripple passing through his wings subtly. They gave a tiny shake behind him. His shadows seemed to be dancing across his shoulders, gleeful in their wispy movements.
Even his pain had been put aside for this moment — dialed down to barely a twinge as he drunk in the sight of you before him, his eyes scouring your face for every detail he could, lest it be the only time he got to.
Faintly, he felt his lips twitch. His hands curled up at his sides, a minuscule motion. You’re… very beautiful. You’re everything he’s been waiting for — and Azriel is sure that shine of the night sky he adores so reverently is rivaled only by your eyes.
“I—” He remembered himself, the word rasping out before he could stop it. He realised he was not sure what he intended to say. “Forgive me.”
You seem perplexed by his words if the wrinkle between your eyebrows was an indication.
One of his shadows snaked down his arm, flitting out to meet you and Azriel felt himself flush slightly. He called it back sternly and silently — only more embarrassed when it didn’t listen, circling your wrist and tickling its way up your arm.
But there was no apprehension in your face, nor in your laugh which felt like a shot of espresso to his system, as his shadows continued badgering you. Something close to mortification crept up his neck as two more shadows darted out to join the first, curling excitedly around your neck like a lover would.
“My apologies,” Azriel forced his mouth to work. “They are not usually so… misbehaved.”
You waved him off, another laugh tittering from your mouth as a shadow curled over your ear. Surprisingly, whether through some bond or not, he knew that you were not afraid of him in any sense.
Your hand waved him over to the table set up for patients, ushering him over. “That’s alright. You can tell me what I’m to forgive you for as I look over your wounds.”
Azriel didn’t move. His feet felt rooted to the floor, heart turning itself inside out. Did you not know? Could you not feel it? Were you simply sweet enough that you would still tend to him, heal him, even though you knew and had decided to keep your distance?
“I…” He selected his words carefully, watching you closely. “I did not wish to make you see me if it was not on your own terms."
You were setting up your items on a silver tray beside the medical table and when you looked over your shoulder, you seemed confused that he hadn’t moved. You urged him over with a jerk of your chin and a smile that melted through his chest, hot like candle wax.
“Nonsense.” You patted the table invitingly. “C'mon, you’re dripping blood on my floors.”
His politeness had him standing up straighter, wings bunching up as he realised they had begun to drag along the ground. It was the thing that finally got him to move, his feet stepping forward in an instant.
“I’m—”
“Kidding. I was kidding.” You intercept his apology easily, eyes bright.
Something preens within him at how you knew what he would say so soon within meeting him. Azriel took another step and let himself sink down onto the padded table, his wings resting gently around him. Even seeing you, talking to you, is not enough to chase away his fatigue. You hand him a clean cloth to clear the muck from his face and he does so silently.
“Are you fit to remove your leathers?” You asked, your gaze turned analytic as you scanned over his muscled body for his injuries.
Azriel nodded, not trusting his voice. As each piece of armor was pulled off, not a wince in sight, he was surprised at the flustering feeling within him. It was light, just a ball of nervousness, tinged with embarrassment, in his chest — which made no sense. As he pulled the final layer of clothing from his chest, Azriel realised that this feeling wasn’t coming from him.
You were staring as politely as you could, eyes darting around the injuries scattered across his torso but with a nervous flush to you. Your eyes flitted across his chest, once, twice. Barely a glimpse— something that would’ve gone unnoticed if he was not the spymaster of this court.
Azriel couldn’t resist. “Everything alright?”
If he had made voice a tad gruffer than usual, that was between him and the Cauldron.
“Yes.” You smiled at him again and it nearly made him miss the pinch in your voice. Nearly. “Just thinking that if you look like this, I hardly want to imagine the other guys.”
Azriel bit back his smile, only half succeeding in hiding it. It was wiped as you finally stepped closer, examining him properly. A furrow between your brows. Azriel could feel the hot burning want to smooth it out with his thumb, to take your worry from you.
His shadows had slipped further from him, more and more of them following your gentle hands as you skimmed atop his skin, deep in thought. They swirled around your hands, festering where you were nearly touching him, and Azriel desperately willed them to relax. They did not obey.
“The shadows,” He began, already apologetic.
Your eyes flashed to his and then back on the laceration splitting the skin on his shoulder. You pulled one of your hands back, just an inch, focusing on how the shadows followed you. Tiny wisps dancing around your hand, light touches that reminded you of a thousand tiny kisses.
“It’s alright.” You hummed, sweet with a smile. “They’re sort of lovely.”
And if Azriel had felt your momentary fluster, he had no doubt he would be unable to hide the swell of surprise within him.
You finally pulled your hands back, beginning to circle around the table to take a closer look at his wings. Azriel couldn’t repress his shiver at the thought— his mate, so close to something so precious to him. He was torn between emotions; his body buzzing at the thought of your touch and his mind adamant that you wanted to keep your distance for a reason.
“I must say, I have heard of Illyrian wings before,” Your voice breathed over his shoulder, distracted by the view. Without meaning to, Azriel’s wings gave a little twitch. “But never seen them this close. They’re very beautiful.”
Azriel blinked and willed himself to remain neutral even if all his shadows seemed to give him away; their flitterings only increased at your words.
He bowed his head. “Thank you.”
Then there was a soft touch along the leathery skin of his wing, your fingers, tentative and gentle. Azriel swallowed the noise in his throat. His wings gave another involuntary shiver.
“Is it alright to… touch?”
It’s sweet of you to ask even though he’s sure you’ll have no way of healing him if he says no. Azriel steeled himself, forcing himself to remain neutral.
“Yes,” He murmured. The wounds across his torso had already begun to heal themselves, his Fae blood clotting and knitting the skin back together at an achingly slow pace. He was too tired to heal himself properly. He had known his wings would require the most attention.
It was an effort not to jump when your touch returned, tiny fingertips that felt startlingly warm suddenly. Azriel could feel the tendrils of your magic as it poured out through your fingers, a healing salve to the agony of his wings. It felt so good he struggled to not sigh aloud, his scarred hands flexing in his lap.
“You know,” You began, voice quiet. “I was hoping you might seek me out but perhaps, for a less painful reason.”
While Azriel fought to keep his head from snapping around, his shadows did no such thing— all of them jumping from their usual hiding place. He swatted at them, mortified at how revealing they seemed to be in your presence.
Still, there was no battling away the kernel of hope that sat deep in the pit of his stomach, mixed tightly with disbelief.
Another touch along his wings, another warming healing glow. Azriel cleared his throat and fought to keep his voice even.
“You were… waiting for me?”
Gods, he couldn’t have sounded more pathetic if he tried. But his head was spinning, the glowing pull on his chest tightening, the kernel growing larger and larger. You were waiting for him, you were waiting for him.
“Of course, why would I not be?”
“I…” He had never been so lost for words in all his centuries of living. Never sure how deep the rift within him ran, a part of him convinced that the reason he had not found a mate in all his time was because he had not deserved one.
“I did not want to impose on you, I know that not all—”
It was all coming out wrong. Azriel reined in his rampant emotions, the swirling of his shadows dimming for a moment. Your hands had paused their ministrations on his wings, listening intently. He couldn’t bear to turn to face you as he spoke.
“I wanted to give you space to decide yourself. To leave the decision in your hands. Because I would understand if—”
He cut himself off with a sharp inhale. Voicing it, suggesting the possibility of you hoping and waiting for a mate all your life, just as he did, only to be disappointed that discover it was him— he couldn’t say it aloud.
He was sure you must be able to feel his fear and clamped his mental shields down as tight as he could. He would not guilt you into this.
“I can see why the Mother made us mates.” You mused after a moment.
Azriel nearly shuddered at the word, at you referring to him at your mate so casually— a yawning chasm of want spreading over his entire body. Gently, slowly, your hands began to work again.
“Here I was,” you continued, voice light and hands warm. “Thinking that, maybe, the shadowsinger had his duties and would come find me if he wished. And that I would understand if he never came to find me at all.”
This time, Azriel could not resist turning around to see your face. His heart ached terribly to hear what you had thought. His shadows spun around his shoulders and as he turned, they twisted and ran for you.
“No,” He said severely. He couldn’t help the way he shook his head, like a petulant child but you were just so wrong. “No, I— I’m sorry, I never meant for you to think— please forgive me.”
Despite his evident distress, you smiled easily with a little shake of your head. “There is nothing to forgive. It would be, well, almost hypocritical if I let you apologise for doing the same thing I did to you.”
Amongst his relief, Azriel felt his chest pulse in adoration, a smile forming on his lips. Twisted back on the table, your hands mending along his wings, the thing he’d wanted for — had spent so many years envisioning — finally finding him. He would not have it any other way.
“I’ve waited for you for five hundred years.” He croaked.
Your eyes widened a fraction and you blinked owlishly at him for a moment as his words sunk in.
“Well,” You chuckled somewhat awkwardly. Azriel could feel the nervousness radiating off you in waves. “I hope after that all that waiting it wasn’t too underwhelming—”
“It wasn’t.” He interrupted. “It isn’t. You’re…”
It was an effort to restraint himself — to not be too much, too soon.
“Despite the knots we both seemed to tie ourselves in,” He huffed a silent laugh, melting as you relaxed too. “Please believe me when I say I would not have it anything other way.”
You glowed, a sweet emotion singing from you so loudly that Azriel couldn’t not feel it. You hadn’t accepted the bond yet and still… he could feel the strong emotions as they rippled through you. Joy. He was so happy that it was joy, more than anything else. His shadows seemed to be split between the two of you, protecting you as much as they did himself.
Then suddenly, your eyes widened again, as if another thought had occurred to you.
“Wait a minute, five hundred years?” You repeated his words back to him with an air of disbelief. “You’re an old man!”
His laugh escaped him before he could capture it, entranced at your delightful quick wit. Your eyes were bright, your pretty mouth pulled into your smile.
The ache in his wings had dulled almost completely and Azriel absentmindedly noticed you had managed to heal up the majority of his wounds during your conversation. They fluttered appreciatively and your eyes darted back down to them.
“Is that to be a problem?” He teased lightly.
Your obvious flustering pooled off you, sliding down along the bond even as he felt you desperately trying to curb it. Even then, you couldn’t resist another glimpse at his toned back.
He certainly didn’t look like an old man— not with the taut tan muscles of his back, his large biceps, nor his handsome young face. His hazel eyes watched playfully as you allowed yourself one long look over him.
“Nope,” you said decisively, pressing down your grin. You held your hands up defensively, as if it would aid your point. “No problems here.”
Your footsteps were light as you rounded the table to face him from the front, your healing job completed. For a quiet moment, Azriel could only stare — holding his breath, waiting.
He schooled away any thoughts of how much it would hurt to part from you, now that he had finally found you, and spoke again.
“It doesn’t have to be now.” He said, hazel eyes fixed on your own. He made sure his emotions were unwavering, that you would not feel swayed to spare his feelings. A shadow skittered across your shoulder.
“I want you to be sure. I would never want you to feel as though you had no choice. We— I can wait, I have waited years for you, I can—”
His words were smothered in his own breathy gasp as you reached out, one finger trailing across the peak of his wing. Something like pure desire shot down his spine and he did everything in his power to hold in his growl.
“Something told me that would get you to stop talking.” You said, with a hint of teasing.
A seriousness flicked across your face, settling into your expression as you took in the male before you, your mate — and you could feel his want, the enormity of his yearning trickling down the bond— and yet, you knew that he would walk away from it in a second if you asked him to.
You had no intention of doing any such thing.
“While you may have me beat on the waiting,” You said softly. It didn’t feel right when you’ve only just met him to reach out, but the urge swims within you anyways.
You reached out to touch his face, your hand as soft and warm as a sunbeam on his skin.
“I do not wish to extend that waiting for any longer, my mate.”
Your words had an instant effect, a shudder that passed across his face, eyes fluttering, the flick of his wings spreading out and forwards, as though reaching for you. You kept your hand steady.
Azriel allowed himself to lean into your touch. Allowed every feeling to flow down the warm tug in his chest, over the bridge that kept him inexplicably connected to you — overwhelming bouts of relief, of love, all of it unrestrained. And he could feel you on the other end, meeting it all with the softest, kindest assurance.
“Can…” He murmured, nearly embarrassed. He would have been if you were looking at him any way other than completely adored. His shadows had finally slowed, soft caressing motions along your shoulders and neck. He dared to ask. “Would you say it once more?”
You smiled, brighter than the sun and softer than moonlight, unable to resist your temptation to get nearer to him. You inched closer, letting yourself breathe in the scent of him greedily, knowing he was doing the same. Both of you desperate to memorise each other, despite knowing you had forever to come.
Your nose brushed his and you nuzzled against it gently, eyes sliding closed. Azriel released a shaky breath, his scarred hands clenching tightly in his lap, terribly overwhelmed in a way he’d never been before. If you had peeked over his shoulder, you might have seen the slight quiver in his wings.
“Azriel,” you whispered. “My mate.”
The shadows around both of you suddenly laid down very still, as if they had encountered a feeling within their master that had not yet before; a calming tranquility. The moment lingered as you let your words sink in, watching his closed eyes. You let yourself steal this moment with him.
“Though,” you pulled back from him, watching his hazel eyes open again. The shadows around him picked up, lazily flitting around. “If you want to get all cleaned up before dinner, you best head home soon.”
“Dinner.” Azriel repeated, the smallest scrunch between his eyes.
You stepped back from him, smoothing your hands down your front almost nervously— but no, it was closer to excitement, he realised.
“Dinner, yes.” Azriel said, catching on, his wings flaring out for just a moment. You grinned, endeared entirely by all his little tells despite his apparently stony demeanour. You could see him beneath it, the soft kind Male that the Mother had made for you.
“It would be an honour.” He added seriously, finally getting to his feet, preparing to leave. You ached at the thought — but more of you preened, knowing you would see him not long after. His seriousness made you laugh.
“Anyone ever tell you you’re kinda intense?”
Azriel smiled, his shadows moving more deftly now. “And yet, never has it sounded so sweet as it does coming from you.”
You flushed and it was made entirely worse by the chuckle you felt down his end of the bond. You jabbed him in the shoulder, a bit miffed when he didn’t sway in the slightest.
“Alright, no more mud on my floors.” You ordered, faux serious as you pointed to the door. “I will see you later tonight.”
“Promise?” He asked, once more to check— but mostly to see that elated grin he was already falling in love with.
“I swear on my mate." You promised back, delighted when he grinned — properly, teeth and all — and you stole one final glance at your forever as he disappeared out the door.
part two here
3K notes · View notes
sreidisms · 10 months ago
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Early seasons Reid and with BAU!reader whom just has a HUGE crush on her and Gideon has to spell it out to Spencer? I just love season 1/2 Reid. Him in glasses just makes me swoon ❤️
THIS IS SO CUTE, like it's so probable too. I didn't understand if you meant that Gideon had to spell out that Spencer likes the reader or that the reader likes Spencer, so I went with the former. If you wanted the latter, tell me and I'll write it!
An Oblivious Genius
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Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader
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Summary: Spencer has feelings for you but is too oblivious to realise - Gideon helps him.
Genre: subtle fluff
Word Count: 862
Warnings: none
A/N: the way I ended this leaves it open to a part two, so please comment if you'd like one!
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“I think you have feelings for her.”
“Huh?”
Gideon didn’t lift his gaze from the newspaper in his hands, the wrinkles on his forehead peeking from behind the inked folio. “I said, you may have feelings for her, Reid.”
Spencer never turned to anyone for help, because why would he? He knew more than anyone else when it came to most things - well, except socially. And emotionally. And anything having to do with you.
The only person that wouldn’t bruise his ego was Gideon - his mentor, his guidance. He held more of a God-like presence than a fatherly one for Reid; his advice and experience were almost holy, a dogma which Spencer believed and followed without questioning.
So when his number one source of truth told him he had a crush on you, it was a shock.
“I don’t think that’s the case-”
“Reid.”
Spencer stopped his attempted rambling as Gideon’s eyes made an appearance from behind the lowered paper.
“Just repeat what you were telling me at the start of the conversation,” the older man sighed.
Spencer shifted on his legs, picking at the rolled up sleeve that was settled by his elbow.
“I know she’s my closest friend, the person I feel most comfortable with, although she’s been working here for less time than everyone else. It’s probably because she doesn’t interrupt me and listens when I talk.” He paused for a second, the corner of his mouth lifting into a subtle smile. “I like that.”
“What else?” urged Gideon, setting his newspaper on the desk in front of him.
“I get really excited to see her. Well, I enjoy seeing Derek and Elle too, but I get this weird feeling at the pit of my stomach when I see her.” He pressed his palm to his sternum, showing the origin of the sensation.
“That’s because she means more to you.”
“Yes, but surely not in the way you’re implying. It could be heart burn; do you know that twenty percent of Americans suffer from a gastroesophageal reflux at least once a week-”
“You’re telling me you happen to experience heart burn each time she enters the room?”
Gideon raised an eyebrow, making the younger agent feel dumb for such an improbable conclusion.
“Okay … okay maybe not, the two variables cannot be fully independent of each other if they occur simultaneously every time.”
It was surprising to Gideon that such an intelligent and well-rounded person could be so oblivious to something as romantic feelings. He pressed his thumb and index finger into his eyes, rubbing them slowly and dragging his fingers down his cheeks, buying himself some time to think.
“I think an obvious question is, do you think she’s pretty?” he asked and waved his hand to the side.
Spencer bit his lower lip. He thought you were the most gorgeous person he had ever laid eyes on if he had to be entirely honest; but he couldn’t admit that, not out loud at least.
“I do.”
“That’s it?”
“What do you want me to say, Gideon? That I think that she’s breath-taking and there’s not a thing about her I don’t like?” He said it with a certain anger, one that was buried somewhere deep inside him, a result of the pent up emotions and anxieties in his chest.
“Is that the truth?” You’d think that with his profiling experience, he would have learnt to mask the way he was suppressing the fluttery feelings and adoration he had for you.
Gideon sighed before speaking again: “What are the signs that one is supressing emotions?”
“Struggling to identify and express feelings or appearing emotionally distant, unexpected mood swings, and avoidance of specific topics, people, or situations.”
“And doesn’t that seem to mirror what you’re going through?”
Spencer thought about it. He was definitely finding it challenging to pin point his emotions, he couldn’t really understand what he felt for you; he didn’t really have mood swings, but had just lashed out at his mentor over a comment; and he certainly avoided the topic of liking you or the teasing of such from his workmates.
“Shit, I like her.”
Gideon chuckled at his out-of-character swearing. “First off, watch your language. Secondly, I’m glad you’ve come round.” He laid back in his chair once more, lifting up the paper to continue his reading.
The young genius didn’t know what to do with this newfound information. He liked you. More than liked you, really. He was fascinated by your mere existence, your kindness, your humour, and most definitely your looks. How hadn’t he realised this sooner?
“What do I do now?” he mumbled, taking off his glasses to wipe them on his button-up shirt.
“You tell her you like her.”
Spencer near snapped his glasses in half with the way the pads of his fingers pressed firmly in shock.
“You want me to do what?”
“Reid, it’s not a secret that she has a soft spot for you.”
The boy sputtered, jaw opening and closing like a door on rusted hinges. “I- I can’t do that!”
The newspaper rustled as Gideon flipped the page. “One of you will eventually.”
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God I need him, he's such a cutie
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thefatedthoughtofyou · 1 year ago
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{ Thank you for the idea @imsodonewiththissite !! It almost got angsty but i controlled myself!!! }
"What in God's name is that?" Dustin’s voice goes almost shrill as he walks behind Steve, looks down at his pumpkin. Eddie's head shoots up from where he's carving his own pumpkin, his legs shot out in front of him, his feet hitting Steve's across from him. Steve flushes, tells Dustin to shut up, and shoves at his legs to get him to move on.
"Alright alright jeez! It's just... I've never seen a pumpkin like that. Did you even try?" Dustin huffs as he settles back into his own carving area between Lucas and Will.
"Yes. I did try. Thank you very much. Henderson." Steve huffs, wipes at his pumpkin, then wipes his hand in the grass to get the bits of guts off. Eddie sits up taller, making a show of trying to see Steve's carving, but not really trying to see, they'd agreed to show each other at the same time.
Steve hadn't really had any idea what to do, so he'd just done something silly. But he could see Will and Dustin’s and theirs were detailed, and spooky. And his just looked... stupid, now. Steve sighed and put the top back on his, waiting for Eddie to finish.
He was staring, he knew he was. He couldn't help it. He loved when Eddie was in full concentration mode, his tongue poking out between his lips, his brows crinkled. Steve would never tell him that. But he could look. No harm in that.
Eddie looked up and met his eyes, smiled brightly, and dusted of his own pumpkin before popping the top back on. He tilted his head, this way and that, a few times and then looked at Steve again.
"Okay. You ready?" He asked, drumming his fingers on the gourd resting under his hands. Steve scrunched his nose.
"I'm having second thoughts." He said quietly, the kids were all yelling, in their own little world, but he still didn't want them to hear.
"Aww. But I'm excited to see it! Especially with the way Dusty Buns reacted." Eddie drooped, his eyes going wide and sad, the way Steve was weak agaisnt. He sighed, his own body drooping.
"Ugh. Fine. On three?" He tilted his head. Eddie nodded.
"On three."
"One."
"Twosie." Eddie wiggled his fingers, Steve rolled his eyes fondly.
"Three!" They both said it together and turned their pumpkins toward each other.
Steve's eyes shot open, Eddie's was... good. Like really good. Everything a spooky jack-o-lantern should be. Creepy eyes, sharp teeth, what looked like a skull nose.
"Holy shit Eds. That's... holy shit. Mine is so shit compared to- why are you making that face? What's happening?" Steve changed directions mid sentence because Eddie's mouth had dropped open as he stared at Steve hideous excuse for a carving.
"Oh my god you hate it." Steve grabbed at his pumpkin, about to turn it back toward him and hide it forever but he froze when a sound started coming out of Eddie's open mouth.
It took a moment to really form, but once it got going, Steve could hear it. Manical giggles were bubbling up out of Eddie's mouth. He slapped his hands over his face to stop them but they just kept coming.
Steve wasn't sure if he should be offended or not. He frowned though, his brows dropping on his head and Eddie immediately shook his head.
"Oh my god he's ADORABLE!" Eddie cackled the words, shoved his own pumpkin genlty aside and crawled toward Steve's, his hands outstreched and grabbing.
"I know it's- wait what?" Steve was so confused.
"Steve I love him. Look at his stupid little face." He'd devolved into baby talk and was scratching at the pumkin like you would a babies chin. Steve felt himself smiling.
"Wait you actually like it?" Dustin guffawed from behind him. Eddie spun around fast, guarding Steve's pumpkin from sight.
"Excuse me?! 'It'? Don't you ever speak like that about my son- our son!" He jerked his thumb over his shoulder at Steve. Dustin rolled his eyes.
"It's not even scary! It's just a big mouth!" Dustin’s hands flailed. Eddie screamed at him dramatically, clutching his chest.
"He has a tooth! And two adorable teeny tiny eyes!" Eddie moved, pointed at the face Steve had made. El and Will both aw-d, Max and Lucas smiled, Mike just rolled his eyes.
"He's not- it's just-" Dustin stammered a bit.
"What? Dustin. He's what?!" Eddie asked, his hands still clutching at his chest.
"He's ugly! Okay? It's an ugly pumpkin!" Dustin yelled, Steve didn't even have time to feel hurt, because Eddie shrieked again, his voice going impossibly high.
"Dustin Henderson! I can't believe you just called your brother ugly. You heathen!" Eddie practically hissed the last word before he hopped to his feet and bundled Steve's pumpkin into his arms.
"Unbelievable. We don't need them Steve. Let's go." He popped his nose into the air and looked to Steve. He knew he had to look like a deer in headlights, not sure exactly where they were meant to be going.
"Kitchen." Eddie whispered, giving Steve a wink.
"Oh right. Okay yeah." Steve stumbled toward the door, opening it for Eddie as he stomped after him.
"Oh what you're going inside? Just leaving us out here?" Dustin called, Will and El booing him as he kept taunting Steve and Eddie. Eddie spun, looked at Dustin, propped the pumpkin on his hip like a toddler and pointed his finger accusingly.
"Yes. And we are leaving... in a huff!" Eddie's accent sounded slightly French at the end as he spun around again and stomped into the house.
"Slam the door Steven. Show them we mean it." Eddie said with an air finality. Steve grinned, fighting back laughter, and slammed the door. He tugged the blind closed too, for good measure. He turned to find Eddie wiping at the pumpkin with a wet washrag, getting all the little shavings off.
"You didn't have to do that." Steve said, moving to stand next to him. But not too close.
"Do what?" Eddie asked, grabbing the dish towel off the little hook and drying the pumpkin now. Steve sighed, leaned his butt against the counter and looked at the floor.
"Play it up liked you love the pumpkin. To make me feel better about my complete lack of skill." Steve laughed a little, shrugged, and looked up to find Eddie staring at him. He tossed the towel down and took a step forward.
"Oh no. Unfortunately for you, Steven. That was a genuine reaction. I fucking love this thing." He patted at the side of the pumpkin and grinned at Steve. Steve frowned.
"Really? It's not... I mean it's nothing special. Did you see Will's, I swear there was a castle on it." Steve shook his head. Dismissive.
"Oh I saw it. Still like yours more." Eddie said, matter of fact.
"Why?" Steve was still frowning. Eddie sighed, walked over and stood next to Steve, his arm pressed agaisnt him, warm.
"Me and my mom used to buy four pumpkins. Every Halloween. Always four. Two for her. And two for me." Eddie's voice was soft, the way it always was when he talked about his mother. Steve found himself trying not to breathe to loudly, he wanted to hear everything Eddie had to say.
"We'd each do a classic, spooky guy. But the other one. The other one we used to make just... the most ridiculous faces. Or the dumbest ones. Anything cute and silly." He looked at Steve for a moment, a soft smile on his lips at the memory.
"It very quickly became a contest of who could make who laugh the most. Just by carving some silly face." Eddie shook his head and laughed gently.
"I haven't made a funny one since she died. And you turned that pumpkin around and it took me back. To all those stupid pumpkins and how we used to laugh. And I mean really laugh." Eddie's voice was getting tight as he spoke, a little wobbly, and Steve wanted to hug him, wasn't sure if he could.
"She had the best laugh Steve. She'd have loved this." He moved his hand over the pumpkin again, gently stroked down it's side.
"And you."
It was almost too quiet. Steve almost didn't hear it. Wasn't sure he had until he looked up and saw the way Eddie was looking at him. Steve is so sure that it's the same way he'd been looking at Eddie for months now.
"It's the perfect pumpkin Steve. The best one I've seen in years." He's so serious, when he says it. Steve feels like he might cry. Feels a bit reckless, with Eddie looking at him like that. So he leans toward Eddie, his heart fluttering as Eddie smiles, just a barely thing, and leans toward him too.
The kiss is soft, Eddie makes a little sound in the back of his throat when Steve's hand moves to his neck and pulls him closer. They kiss until they're both smiling so much it's just their teeth clicking together and Eddie dissolves into manic giggles again and buries his face in Steve's neck as he holds him close.
"You have a good laugh too Ed's. " Steve sighs, pulling Eddie closer as he hums and nuzzles into his neck, his fingers pressing into Steve's back as he cuddles closer. Steve breathes deeply, his nose buried in Eddie's hair, and feels Eddie smile against the soft skin of his neck.
-
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-
( below is an approximation of their pumpkin faces. I fucked up the eddie one's mouth dont looookk at meeeee )
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jasongracesenthusiast · 4 months ago
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PRINCESS OF THE GODS !
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PARING(s), percy jackson x daughter of HERA reader
WARNING(s), basically just marriage
AUTHOR’S NOTE, yeah i listened to juno while doing this, what about it
౨ৎ percy met you a little while after he arrived at camp. you were the only demigod child of hera, the queen of the gods. he was surprised at the thought that zeus would even allow you to live, but in fairness, he wasn’t dead yet either
౨ৎ you two didn’t actually consider yourselves friends until after ttc, when you were kidnapped (yes you’re taking annie’s place IM SORRYYY)
౨ৎ after the events of all that, percy found himself…drifting towards you, in a way
౨ৎ like, before everything happened, even if you weren’t necessarily friends, he did know you, like your existence mattered so much to him, he just didn’t know why at the time
౨ৎ but you, on the other hand, somehow did
౨ৎ when you were saved by percy and friends, you were very optimistic that it was him saving you and not somebody else, cause that just wouldn’t be as fun
౨ৎ anyways from the moment you met him, you were like “oh yeah that’s my future boyfriend right there”
౨ৎ and yeah calm down just a little bit, but you also just knew, and you thanked your mother everyday for giving you this knowledge
౨ৎ but you were also pissed because holy shit, it took percy a while to come to terms with how he felt about you, even after saving you and becoming friends
౨ৎ but when i tell you how many times you made a move until he realized
౨ৎ you were very clear about your feelings, like you genuinely had nothing to hide
౨ৎ percy was extremely confused about the fact that you never dated anybody at all
౨ৎ and loads of people at camp clearly find you attractive and percy does, too, so when you were like “oh yeah i’ve never had a boyfriend before” he was as shocked as possible
౨ৎ because like, it’s you
౨ৎ and you’d think that would make it click that he had feelings for you
౨ৎ unfortunately. it did the opposite.
౨ৎ and that was kind of your last straw. you literally sat him down and explained your feelings to him and how you liked him ever since he saved you
౨ৎ THAT’S when he fully realized it
౨ৎ and it’s not cause he’s stupid (mischaracterized percy jackson they could never make me like you), it’s because it’s YOU. the pretty daughter of hera who a lot of people crushed on
౨ৎ you were practically a princess and percy took that so seriously, he found it so hard to believe that you liked him
౨ৎ after insisting that you really did like him, yippie that’s when y’all started dating !!
౨ৎ and when i tell you how much of a power couple you are. you two just radiate that kind of energy, even if someone didn’t know you were together
౨ৎ like you didn’t even need to tell anyone, everybody just. knew, and percy was stunned and he was like, they knew??? did you tell everyone???
౨ৎ and you were like no that’s just the power couple energy
౨ৎ when i tell you he worships the very ground you walk on I FUCKING MEAN IT. you know that one thing where a girl is singing on stage and her boyfriend is sobbing? that’s you two
౨ৎ if i or anyone else had to describe your relationship, it would be that
౨ৎ since your mother is the goddess of marriage, you were very clear about the fact that percy was the man you were to marry, and everybody just like. accepted it
౨ৎ even people who had current or previous crushes on you accepted that, mostly because you often referred to him as your husband like it was a regular thing
౨ৎ percy lets you do it every time and never corrects you, even calling you his wife sometimes.
౨ৎ listen you had your entire future with him planned. from the proposal (if he didn’t do it by age 22, you fucking would), to the wedding, to having kids, all that. he knew he could not stop you like he knew you were prepared
౨ৎ but percy still loved every minute of it, because the thought of marrying you, the love of his life, was just astonishing. he loves you just as much as he loves the thought of making you his wife, because it was you he would be marrying.
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itsmarsss · 8 months ago
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stupid. [Peter Maximoff x Reader] (X-Men)
[~from the vault~]
Friends kiss all the time, right? Right?
Word count: 2,062
Warnings: none i don't think i even use the word fuck here like who even was i this is just fluff
[. . .]
“Okay, truth or dare?” Jubilee asked Peter, an unmistakably mischievous look on her face. 
It was funny, actually, to think that a group of mutant teenagers with unimaginable powers would be spending their weekend doing such mundane things, such as throwing a party and playing truth or dare like a bunch of seventh graders, but the truth is that none of you ever really had the chance to have that before, most always too weird to be with the normal kids.
So, truth or dare on a saturday night in the middle of the woods it was.
And of course you knew how this was going to go. You didn’t even have to be his best friend to know what he would pick without a hint of hesitation. 
“You know it,” Peter replied with a signature smirk.
Scott let out a groan. “There’s not even anything for you to do anymore!”
“There’s still plenty of stuff for me to do!” Peter defended himself, a hand over his chest feigning offense.
“No, he’s right! You never pick truth!” Warren joined Scott in complaining.
“Because I’m not boring! You guys are just laaaame.”
“I don’t know, lick that tree over there or something,” Jubilee murmured, uninterested.
“What? That’s all you got? Come on, you can do better! Dare me to run to Hawaii or something!”
“How would we know you actually went to Hawaii?” Kurt asked, and Peter tilted his head to the side, realizing what he said made sense.
“Just pick truth already!” Jean exclaimed, clearly annoyed at the amount of time his turn was taking. 
Peter put his arms up in surrender. “Okay, fine! But it’s gonna be lame.”
Jubilee quickly seemed to gain her excitement again, smiling as she thought of what to ask, snapping her fingers as she finally landed upon a question. “Okay! Have you and Y/N kissed before?” 
He seemed to be taken by surprise, shifting in his seat, and you felt your own cheeks burning, hoping the lack of light would hide it. Of course she would want to ask something like that. 
“C’mon. Something not so lame. What are we, 12?”
“Answer the question!” Scott egged him on, and Peter looked at you, silently asking you what to do. You didn’t even say anything, but you assumed he noticed how flustered you were, as he decided to spare you and lie.
“No. Happy?”
You thought they would let it go, but got confused when everyone other than you and Peter turned to Jean, who, after a moment, spoke up. “He’s lying,” she affirmed.
And then it was chaos. 
“Oh my God! When?”
“I knew it!”
“Holy shit how was it?”
“Stop reading my mind, witch!” Peter yelled. You knew him. Usually he’d be pretty proud to talk about how he 'got with the girl' or whatever. But Peter also knew you, and you both knew that you had specifically agreed to not talk about this. So he tried to change the subject. “Okay, okay, that’s not how this works. You have your answer, now spin the bottle again.”
“But-” 
“Those are the rules, Scotty.”
Annoyed, Scott reached out to spin the bottle again, and Peter winked at you. You smiled at him in return, thanking him silently. You were smart enough to know they would bug you about it later but at least you were fine for now, with enough time to come up with some bullshit excuse before you got bombarded with questions.
“Y/n it’s your turn.”
Well, maybe not so much time.
You were taken out of your thoughts by Jean’s words, averting your eyes to the bottle in front of you. Fair enough, it landed on you. Such luck.
“Truth or dare?” Scott asked you, unable to hide a grin.
“Come on, Scott.”
“You gotta choose!”
“Truth?”
“Tell us how that kiss happened.”
“Dare.”
“I… dare you to tell us how the kiss happened.”
“That’s not fair-”
“Those are the rules,” Warren intervened, repeating what Peter had said earlier, and you shot him a death glare. 
“You know I could kill you right?”
“You like me too much,” he smiled, and you sighed. You considered leaving the game, but you knew they would just annoy you until you talked.
“Fine. It was nothing, okay? We were on a mission and we had to improvise, that’s it.”
Scott’s eyebrows were furrowed together. “Wait it was for a mission?”
“Yeah,” you confirmed.
“But then it doesn’t count!”
Warren chimed in again. “What? Yes it counts-”
You looked over at Peter while all your friends debated the validity of your kiss , but he looked confused. “What?” You mouthed to him.
“That wasn’t our first kiss,” he blurted out, as if that were the most obvious thing in the world, very clearly not thinking before he spoke. Everybody else went quiet.
Warren was the first one to break the silence. “First kiss? Wait, how many times have you kissed?”
“No- it was-” Peter tried to save himself, but it was way too late. Now they wouldn’t leave you alone.
“You have to tell us!” Kurt exclaimed, and you almost felt mad at him. Almost.
Peter cleared his throat. “It was uh- when we were kids? Cause I told you I’d never kissed anyone?”
“Oh but if the mission one doesn’t count then that doesn’t count either. We were like ten!”
“What, were you not a person at ten years old?”
“Come on our real first kiss was that night at the movies wasn’t it? With the… the werewolf movie.”
“No cause that was after the one at the diner.”
“No it wasn’t! It was that one, then the time in your basement, then the diner.”
“But it doesn’t make-” Peter stopped and looked around. 
“What?” You did the same, only to see your friends look like they’d seen a ghost. They were all wide-eyed, either looking at you and Peter or at each other, trying to process the conversation the two of you were having. Okay, so maybe you got a little carried away accidentally.
“Uh-”
And then chaos again.
“You’ve kissed how many times now?”
“Are you sure you’re not together?”
“We’ve been trying to get you together for months! Months! And you tell me this?”
“But we-” you started, but what were you really gonna say? You were the one to talk too much.
Peter stood up. “We… are leaving.” He held his hand up for you to take, and you did so, standing up too. In no time you were in his room at the school, and things were awkward.
You sat down on his bed while he sat down on the chair by his desk, both in silence for a while, neither sure what to say. It was pretty common for you to do that, ignore this kind of thing. As you’d just talked about, you’d had those kinds of moments quite a few times before, but you always ended up unspokenly agreeing to not talk about it after. But it seemed that this time there was no choice.
“Um so.”
He lifted his gaze from the floor to you. “Yeah.”
“I uh. I didn’t realize uh. How many times we’ve- you know.”
“Yeah.” He was fidgeting with his fingers, looking at his hands instead of at you. You were kind of thankful for it.
“You think they’ll be too annoying about it?”
“Have you met them?”
You laughed. “Yeah. Maybe we should have just not played the game.”
“I’m sorry. Or whatever.”
“For what?”
“For bringing it up. It just… came out, you know how I speak without thinking-”
“It’s fine. We’ve kissed a few times, so what?”
“Yeah. Right. It’s what friends do! Right?” He finally looked at you.
“Yes! Platonic friends kiss sometimes. It’s normal.”
“Yeah! Totally. Totally.”
There was silence after that. One that indicated how incredibly not normal it all was.
“Can I ask you something?” Peter blurted out, out of the blue.
“Okay.”
“Did you… like… kissing me?”
“What?”
"Huh?"  He pretended he hadn’t said anything, immediately regretting saying it.
Silence again.
You thought for a moment. “Yeah.”
“What?”
“I liked it. Did you not?”
“I don’t- I-” He stood up in superspeed, but stayed within distance from you. “Yeah. A- a lot.”
“Does that- I mean that’s still like. Normal right?”
“Yeah I mean who- it’s kissing right? Why would- why wouldn’t we like that?”
“Right. Right. Yeah, of course.”
“Would it be that bad?”
“What do you mean?”
“If we were like- you know- not… friends.”
You quirked an eyebrow, and his eyes widened. “Not like that! I mean if we were like, more.”
“Like… if we dated.” It was a statement, but a question too. Were you getting this right?
“Wuh- Yeah. I guess.”
You had no idea what was going on now. After a long time of getting teased by your friends to no end about the blurry lines of your friendship with Peter, you learned to scold yourself when you caught your thoughts drifting to that. After all, you couldn’t- it would just ruin your friendship, and you didn’t want to lose your best friend. 
But now here he was, right in front of you, asking you if it would be so bad if you dated.
…would it?
“Why?”
“You didn’t answer the question.”
“I just wanna know why you’re asking!”
“Well cause maybe I’d like it if we were dating!” 
“Yeah sure,” you let out a laugh.
“I’m.. not joking.”
You went quiet.
“I know I’m not serious about… well anything I guess,” he let out a small laugh, “but I’m being like 100%, totally for real with you right now.”
“So you have… feelings for me. That’s what you’re saying.”
“Yeah.”
“And you’re not joking.”
“No! Why would I joke about that?”
“We joke about that all the time!”
“Not right now!”
“You know I’m 100% kicking your ass if you are, right?”
“I… am pretty aware.”
“Okay.”
He looked at you expectantly, but you didn’t even know what to think about this situation, let alone what to say. 
“Okay? So?” Of course, this was still your Peter, extremely nosey and incredibly impatient.
You took a good look at him. Did you like him the same way he apparently liked you?
Peter was annoying. He was loud and a lot of times way too much, and he always ended up getting you into embarrassing situations. If you ever got in trouble, it was pretty safe to say it was probably his fault. He was stubborn and cocky and annoyingly good at making things play out his way.
But he was your best friend. And he was wearing his stupid silver jacket that matched his stupid silver hair and a stupid graphic shirt with a stupid bear that wore sunglasses on it and the stupid Star Wars pin that you gave him for his stupid fourteenth birthday. He was so utterly and completely stupid, and it was stupid to think this could work.
And maybe you were stupid too, because it seemed that you liked him, a stupid amount. 
“Okay, don’t get too cocky, now.”
He kept staring at you, expecting your next words. 
“I like you too.”
“As in... more than a friend?”
“No I’m actually friendzoning you.”
Finally he opened a grin, relaxing as he caught on to your teasing tone. Now that looked more like him. “Are you? That’s good. I was actually gonna tell you I changed my mind.”
“You did?”
He walked towards you, in a normal speed for once. “Yeah. I think we should stay friends.”
You nodded. “Yeah me too.”
“Friends kiss, right?”
“Platonically.”
“Yeah, platonically.”
You laughed at how ridiculous that excuse sounded now. “We’re so stupid.”
Hee shook his head. “I don’t know what youre talking about.” 
You didn’t have time to keep the joke going, as he finally pulled you closer and leaned in.
You’d kissed a good amount of times before, but this time was different. It wasn’t impulsive, and you weren’t going to regret it after. You wouldn’t have to pretend it didn’t happen when it was over, and you really, really liked the thought of that.
But, of course, you did live with your really, really nosey friends, who you hadn’t noticed had been standing by the door.
“You guys are so confusing!”
Okay, it would be really stupid to think you would ever be able to live this one down.
[. . .]
A/N: treating you guys to these cute little oneshots today past mars was such a cutie i was gonna say i miss her but i dont really
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kiwiikato · 7 months ago
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mommy’s here // ken sato x reader
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Chapter Six
note: i wanted to make it up to you all for the lack of a post yesterday by making this one 1k words longer and more wholesome, i hope you all enjoyed the ending, i need to feed u all more♡ thank u for ur patience and support >:3
masterlist
your body froze at his question. his voice was silky smooth. you knew he was teasing you and the effect it had on you. you body heated up more as your face erupted into a blush. no matter how hard you tried to keep calm, the way his looked at you almost had you fainting then and there.
and he knew the effect he had on you. and he liked it. in the short amount of time that he knew you, he thought you were attractive. so to see the effect he had on you in this moment, he couldn't help but have his ego grow slightly.
"so? do i make you nervous?" that damn cocky smirk never left his lips as he watched you, almost like he was eating you with his eyes. "no." you quickly blurted out, your thoughts going haywire. "i don't knowww," his voice playfully drew out his words, "the pink on your cheeks and the way you keep trying to avoid looking at me says otherwise♪"
he spoke teasingly, almost like he was tauntingly singing out your reactions to you, making you even more flustered. his body stayed looking at you, your eyes flickering between his arms to his chest to his sultry eyes. 
you mouth dried up, panicking. "yeah yeah, i have eyes, i can look where i want." your response was not the best, you didn't know how to react to this, you could only look away. "oh. really?" his voice was mischievous.
you heard the ice bath he was in move around from his movement. he didn't speak, he was too quiet for your liking. until he did. "hey." you looked back at him, trying to see what he was doing. god, you regretted it, but you couldn't deny how much you loved it.
you face was met with his, only about an inch away from you, almost like he knew you'd turn to him. your breathing caught in your throat as his lips were so close yet so far. you barely knew him, but the effect of a guy as handsome as him had you wrecked.
your eyes widened as you stayed still. he only seemed to get closer. his mouth got closer to your ear. you could feel his hot breath against your ear. what was he doing? "hey... can you pass me my towel on the couch?"
he pulled away with the most mischievous smile you have ever seen. he had no shame teasing you only to mess with you. nothing was going to happen, you should've known, but gosh, the way he acted made it feel like something would. "yeah- i'll get it." you quickly got up, moving to pick up the towel that he had left on the couch.
you grabbed the soft material, handing it over to him. you turned away, not knowing how he'd come out of the ice bath, waiting for him to be finished. you heard him get out, now walking beside you.
your eyes trailed as he walked away, the towel wrapped around his waist. his back shown perfectly to you. his neck turned to look at you, sending a childish smile as he stuck his tongue out at you.
he walked away, entering the hallway, going to change. once you were out of his eyesight, you quickly grabbed your face, caught off guard by everything that happened. "holy fuck.... what a tease" you could only whisper to yourself.
you went to sit in the couch, taking deep breaths as you fanned yourself with your hands. it wasn't long till you heard a door open and saw kenji walking towards your direction. he sat on the couch, next to you. "can you help me?" he was quiet, almost like he was embarrassed to ask for help. "of course."
you smiled as you took the bandages, rubbing alcohol, antiseptic, and antibiotic ointment he brought for you to help. "okay let's see what we got here." you reached over to the bandage on his forehead, looking at him for confirmation. he nodded, letting you know it was okay.
you slowly took the bandage off, looking at the scratched up wound he had, definitely one that would leave a bruise on his face. "ouch kenji, you might get a bruise from this." his face paled. "a bruise?? on this face? no can do!" you laughed at his reaction. "it's okay, you're in good hands, let's fix up that pretty face then."
he froze, slightly blushing, as you grabbed the bottle of antibiotic ointment he had brought. his breathing was shaky as you placed a hand on his chin, pulling him forward for you to reach the cut. "oh- aren't you going to use rubbing alcohol first to clean it?" he asked quietly, trying his best not to stutter.
"ah no. using things like rubbing alcohol or antiseptic on wounds can actually slow down the healing process since they damage your tissues, also killing helpful germs. some say you can use antiseptic as long as you dilute it with water and try not to get in inside the cut. antibiotic ointment is good to use though since it keeps out infections, also keeping the wounds moist and clean." you said as you applied the ointment to his forehead.
you grabbed a new bandage, softly placing it on his forehead, making sure it covered it right. "how do you know that?" he asked, curious of your knowledge. "i told you i used to take care of kids when i first offered to help you with the baby kaiju, i researched a lot since kids can be pretty reckless, and i wanted to make sure i did my best for them." you said as you tapped his shoulder.
he lifted the shirts fabric over his shoulder, letting you see the scratch there. you repeated the process, then moving to his forearm, right under his elbow, and repeating the process there.
"there you go. should be good as new in no time." you said as you closed the medicines and placing them to the side. "thank you." he said softly. "no problem kenji, i'm always here to make sure you and the baby and take care of.
"oh also! mina told me to tell you to go with her and the baby, she wants to show us something." kenji smiled and got up, eventually leading the way towards the elevator he had.
the ride down was quiet but comfortable, the both of you eventually getting there. you walked out with kenji trailing behind you, happily walking to where the excited kaiju baby was. small coos came from her as she excitedly clapped and jumped seeing the both of you finally in front of her.
"give me some good news mina." kenji spoke tiredly as he took a sip from his drink. you watched as his adam's apple bobbed up and down. "please tell us you found kaiju island." the idea made you sad to hear. you knew the baby kaiju didn't belong here but that didn't mean that you hadn't found yourself starstruck with her. you were grateful to know that wasn't why mina made you call kenji down here for.
"no, ken, but the baby has a surprise for you. right y/n?" she said, spinning over to you. "oh yes yes! we think you'll love it very much." you said as you clapped your hands excited. kenji smiled and turned towards the baby kaiju. "let's see then."
the baby kaiju flashed multiple colors, all the ones that belonged in the rainbow and those in between each shade. she bent her knees in joy as she started to jump from excitement. making a cute pose of bending one leg and raising her claw up as she alternated between limbs. your heart melted at the sight as she mimicked the intro song for the silly show known as 'kaiju step wandabada'.
the happy atmosphere from the song quickly changed when you found kenji and your faces contorting into one of disgust. it was then that yku realized that the baby kaiju had gone to the restroom and farted... horrendously.
"ugh! dear god... what is that smell?" kenji covered his nose and mouth with his arm as he moved backwards. you followed suit by using your shirt to cover your nose. "oh gosh..." you said quietly, trying to not gag from the stench.
"ken, y/n. you can not feed a twenty foot baby a half ton of fish and not expect anything but a giant pile of—" mina's words were cut off by the sound of another fart, loud as the one before it. green funk splattered against the walls of the containment as the baby jumped around.
"which brings me something that we need to discuss. until i'm able to find kaiju island, we're all going to need to raise her." kenji didn't like this idea what so all.
"mina, i got a whole season of baseball ahead of me. i just can't do it." he said as he started to walk away. "ken, you brought her home and now she is your responsibility. besides, you are not fully alone since y/n will also be helping you raise her." mina said as she followed behind him.
"exactly as mina said ken, you're not going through this alone, i'll be here to help you." you said as you walked beside him. he turned to say something to you but was cut off by mina floating in front of him, stopping you both in your tracks.
"she'll die if you both don’t take care of her. now it won't be easy but i'll do everything i can to help. y/n will too. we'll have to continue feeding her, washing her, develop a strategy for taking her to potty. you'll have to learn the five s's. swaddle, side, shush, swing, suck. you both need to raise her."
she menacingly floated towards you both, causing you both to walk backwards. her lights flickered orange, giving off a scary aura. you nodded your head quickly in fear as kenji's face tensed up and breathed heavy from all the events occurring.
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the days went by so fast yet so slow. everything drained the both of you, not expecting it to be so hard since it was two of you raising her. the days switched from waking up too early, to never getting sleep, to dealing with the crying, the feeding, the vomiting, pooping, the struggling to wash her, the burping her so late, to being slumped on the floor with eachother, to spending nights down stairs, cuddles together for warmth, to professor sato calling you and you rushing over to help with his work, to fighting kaijus, to knocking out while reading, to drinking tons of coffee, and more on repeat.
the days were horrible. and so painfully slow. so slow. every game kenji did went bad, so many strikes and missed hits. you felt bad for him as you would deal with the crying baby as you watched the tv. and other days you'd run off to go help his dad, avoiding telling him you were with his son of out respect to their lack of bond to kenji. some days you couldn't help but yell in a room by yourself. constantly running back and forth from your apartment, to professor satos place, and to kenji's house.
back and forth and back and forth and back and forth. you hated it. kenji hated it. but you both dealt with it. it wasn't till the seventy first day were you woke up to kenji rushing out of the house to a baseball match.
you laid on the floor next to mina and the baby as she slept fast asleep, thankfully giving you a second of peace from your exhaustion. the day was long as you waiting for kenji to come back.
a yell sounded through the room as you and the baby quickly shot up from the sound of something hitting the floor. kenji's helmet rolled on the floor, the source of the sound.
"threaten to trade me, ken sato?!? to the tigers?! to the tigers?!?! nobody trades ken sato!" you slowly stood up from where you sat, slowly walking towards kenji who stared outside to the ocean. "i'm doing my best, okay?! god!" his breaths were shaky as his voice cracked from his heavy emotions. "i feed you, i clean your massive poopies!" kenji's hand slammed against the glass as he shook.
you got closer to him, right as he started to crumble to the floor. "ken... are you crying?" you softly asked as your hand touched his back in a comforting manner. "no... i'm not crying." his breathing was shaky as you heard his sniffles. you watched as he wiped away at his eyes, getting rid of the tears that leaked.
"it's been a long day, hasn't it?" you said. you hand rubbed against his back, trying to soothe him. the both of you had gotten closer in the duration of taking care of the baby, connecting through the hardships of raising a living being. "yeah..." he whispered.
"do you want to talk about it?" he looked away, trying to his his face. "hey hey. it's okay. let it out." your hands found his face, gently pulling him to look at you. the thumbs of your hands rubbed against the bottom of his eye as you wiped away any tears that came out. "there there you big baby, everything's going to be okay."
he could only cry more as you held him. he scooted closer, his face looking to the floor. he spoke but the tears he had made it hard to hear. "what was that ken?" you said as his face sat on your hand. "can i hug you..." it was almost so quiet that you almost didn't hear it, but you did.
"come here, ken." your arms opened as he fell forward. his arms wrapped around your body as they rested at your waist. his grip was tight as he continued to softly cry. "don't cry ken, it's okay, you're not alone." you said as your arms held him to you, softly humming to ease him.
"can i get closer..." he asked, seeking comfort, anything. he just needed a loving embrace. "of course you can ken." before you knew it, your body was lifted up. it was then that you realized that ken had placed you on his lap as you both hugged each other.
his face found the crook of your neck, as your chin rested on his shoulder. "i'm sorry. i just don't want to be alone right now." "it's okay ken, it's okay. i'm here, let it out." his waterworks continued as soft whines and sniffles escaped him. you couldn't help the small blush that made its way to your face from the position you were in, shaking it off since he was vulnerable.
some time passed, the both of you not moving for a while. you almost thought he had fallen asleep from his silence. you were wrong. "y/n... can i sleep with you tonight, please." his voice was soft and timid. how could you deny someone as adorable as him.
"that's fine ken, as long as you're comfortable with it." you said as your hands trailed through his hair. his face moved from your neck, giving you a soft smile. "that would be nice." you moved to get off of his lap, with him following suit.
you walked towards the baby kaiju, letting her know that it was okay to sleep. mina played a lullaby, letting her lull to sleep. "thank you mina." you said quietly as kenji trailed behind you, his body timid.
"of course. do let me know if you both need anything. we can play some baseball to help ease you tomorrow if you'd like ken." ken nodded and mumbled a small 'thank you'.
you both walked to the elevator, deciding to call it a night for the both of you. it wasn't long before the doors open and you moved through his house to the spare room he had lent to you to stay it. "oh wait hold on, can i change into pajamas really quick?" you nodded your head as ken ran to his room to find comfortable clothes since he still adorned his baseball uniform.
you moved into the room, tidying the bed a bit as you waited for him to return. you turned the lights off as you went to lay in bed. it wasn't long to the sound of the door opened, you could hear soft steps make there way to the other side of the bed. "y/n..." he whispered, trying to see if you were awake or not.
"get in the bed kenji, you need your rest." ken nodded as he pushed the covers aside and got in. the both of you laid side to side, facing one another. the room was dark but moonlight flashed through the window, illuminating his features nicely.
"thank you." "you're welcome ken, you've had a rough day, get some rest and relax your head." you said as snuggled more into the sheets. "thank you again.. this means a lot, i wasn't feeling the best— is that a frog?" your eyes snapped open as you stared at ken slightly laugh at the frog stuffed animal that laid in your arms.
"shut up! leave him alone." you said as you held him close. he could only laugh as he shook his head. "do you really get that lonely at night?" he asked teasingly. "weren't you the one that was just crying? why are you teasing me, i'll kick you out of the bed right now." you said, huffing out of embarrassment.
"no no no, i just thought it was cute." you grumbled put a 'whatever' at his teasing. "look. come here." you didn't have the chance to react till kenj reached over, pulling you body against his. his arms wrapped around you as his leg laid on top of you, getting comfortable.
"there. now you won't be lonely." he said as his head rested on yours. "shut up." you grumbled. you could feel his chest vibrating against you. "your welcome n/n, now sleep with me."
you didn't say anything, instead just scooted closer as the blanket wrapped around you both. the room was silent as your breathing intertwined. it was peaceful. it wasn't long till you both felt your eyes grow heavier. "goodnight n/n."
your eyes closed as his arms pulled you closer. his eyes admiring the sight of you against him. he softly smiled, closing his eyes to follow you into sleep. his head leaned down as he lips placed a small but gentle kiss on your head.
he snuggled into you more. he could get used to this, it was nice... really nice. his thoughts were cut short as he, too, fell into sleep. the night flew with small dreams of you, his mouth in a smile as he slept.
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