#just needed to organize this and get everything tagged in a way that makes sense but doesnt invade the main tags

[patchworkprince]

I need to revamp this blog

[optimusxwbu]

❀࿐ soundwave x human fem reader 18+

-> warnings/tags: 18+, humiliation, facesitting, choking, squirting, 6k words.

-> minors dni, you will be blocked!!

not my best work but hnnggghhh soundwaaaavvveee *goons*

--- ▶︎ •၊၊||၊|။||||| 0:10 ---

Soundwave hasn’t been himself since Megatron’s defection, brooding and distant, seeming to exist without purpose. He even went to the lengths of sending Ravage away to monitor Megatron and kill him if necessary. It was unfathomable how the former warlord could have such a change of heart, how he could turn his back on the Decepticon cause. On Soundwave. After everything? 

All the sacrifices, the perilousness, the brutality, the adjustments of his moral compass. It all meant nothing, Megatron cowering beneath the might of the Autobots. Soundwave could not accept it, would not accept it. It was so illogical that it even broke Shockwave.

None of this was said aloud to you, but you sensed it. Sometimes you wonder if he purposely sends you telepathic signals to indicate how he’s feeling, or if you’ve just come to know him that well since being in his company.

Very aware that your survival is contingent on Soundwave, you rarely speak out of turn, never say anything that might rile him. The fact that he takes care of you is shocking enough, all things considered. 

A liaison from Earth sent for amicable peace talks since the ending of the war, your ship crashed in Decepticon territory and Lazerbeak found you. Rather than disposing of you, he brought you to Soundwave, who has been working on a way to get you home since.

Well, you think that’s what he’s doing. Every time you mention it, he has some dismissive answer. You’re not entirely sure that he actually is trying to get you home. Maybe it’s too much work, too much effort for him to bother. After all, what is 70 years of looking after you to a being over 5 million years old? 70 years is nothing, he’s probably better off saving the energy of getting you home and just overlooking your care in that time. 

You can’t really say that you mind, you’ve grown accustomed to him in these months that you’ve been with him. Maybe even grown fond of him. 

He isn’t malicious; he harbours no ill intent towards you, despite what some might believe of one of Megatron’s chief commanding officers. From what you can tell, he’s remarkable at taking care of smaller beings, if the cassettes are anything to go by. 

You’re sitting on his control panel in the bridge of his ship whilst he’s reclined in his captain’s chair, the ship docked on an organic planet. The sky is a deep green, which you’re cloaked in from where he’s sitting. The way the panes of light encompass your body through the front windows of the ship, hugging you tightly whilst you absent-mindedly scroll through a datapad.

Sensing his optics on you, knowing that he’d never let you sense anything without his explicit intention, you tear your eyes from the screen to look up at him. 

He’s just sat there, motionless, but seemingly watching you.

“Do you need something?”

No response, not even a bodily one, almost as if you didn’t say anything at all.

Sometimes he plays this game with you. Stares at you, lingers around you, but never says anything. Like he’s scoping you out for something, but he never makes you privy to what he’s feeling at those times. 

You return to your datapad, scrolling through various news sources. You can’t understand a single bit of Neocybex, but sometimes you can kind of put the pieces of the puzzle together by the images. 

“Megatron wouldn’t have hesitated to kill you.”

Without lifting your eyes from the datapad, you mutter, “yeah, uh- I’m aware of that.”

“It seems that Megatron was wrong, about so many things.”

So he really is hung up about this, despite the many months it's been since the defection of his former beloved leader. 

Unsure what to say in response, you simply hum, locking your datapad and looking over your shoulder to see the environment of the world that you’re currently stationed on. 

“This planet is beautiful,” is the only thing you have to say, changing the topic.

There are three moons from what you can see, flecks of pink speckled in the sky to compliment the rich dominant green colour, and if you had to hazard a guess, you’d say it was about dusk on this planet currently. There are large fungi-looking trees, varying in colour from red to blue to purple. The flora isn’t of a shape anything like what you have back on Earth, but it’s completely undisturbed. There’s no deforestation, no conglomerates, just nature and peace.

Soundwave isn’t looking at the scenery behind you, he’s looking at you, the obscured angle that he now has that you’re twisted at the waist. That doesn’t mean he isn’t picking up on how calm you are, how gently your chest rises and falls as you breathe. He can envision how the green lighting is bouncing off your delicate features, your eyes mirroring back everything you can see. 

The view certainly is beautiful.

The words thrum through you like the bass of a song, almost being spoken all around you, but reverberating through your core like a grounded truth. The sensation startles you and the gasp that takes you is involuntary. 

Well, he hasn’t done that before. 

You’re tense, you don’t look away from the view outside. 

˗ ♡ ˗

You’re tucked under your blankets in the makeshift bed that Soundwave had made for you, essentially just a large nest of comfortable and soft items, no real frame to hold it all together. The room is dimly lit by a warm circular light which is touch-activated, placed not far from your bed. 

Your habsuite is barren; the only thing in here is the bedding. Turns out there isn’t much to fill your space with when you’re unexpectedly deserted on an alien planet with a robot who has no interest in human trinkets.

The door to your habsuite hisses open to interrupt your tossing and turning, no warning or prior indication that you should be expecting a visitor. 

Through the door comes the large blue mech, the thoughts of whom are currently keeping you awake. 

“Did I startle you?” He asks as he moves through your room. 

“No, I wasn’t sleeping well anyway. Though you should probably announce yourself before coming into my room next time,” you smile gently as you roll onto your side, wrapping your arms around a pillow.

“I didn’t mean just now,” he counters, mass displacing down to around 8 feet, which you’ve only seen him do a couple of times. He brings himself to a stop once the tip of his pedes hits one of the cushions of your bed.

He’s gazing down at you, albeit with his visor on and mask obstructing his face. You look up at him whilst still grasping the pillow.

“You mean before, in the bridge? That was you, right?” You asked gingerly. 

His head lolls to the side slightly, not giving you a direct response to your query. There are a few beats of silence, which you wouldn’t dare break. 

“I would like… To join you.”

You blink slowly, trying to understand if you misheard him. You do nothing but look at him incredulously, his mirrored silence makes the atmosphere of the room feel uncertain, a tone shift between you that you haven’t experienced before.

“Join me?” You echo, an unspoken request for him to clarify what he’s asking. 

“In your berth, I want to lay with you. I can help you sleep, I could sense you struggling to fall asleep. Let me help you.” He insists, not letting up.

A heartbeat passes before you readjust yourself, loosening your grip on your pillow and shuffling along to make room for him, a wordless confirmation that you are happy to comply.  

He takes no more prompting than that, kneeling down to pull back your covers, exposing your sleeping attire. You couldn’t really call them pyjamas, they were just scraps of material that had been scavenged by the cassettes that you managed to make a night-appropriate outfit from. A simple pullover, somewhat of a nightdress, if you were being generous with your wording. 

As elegantly as a mech of his structure could, he slipped under the covers with you. The weight of him was evident, the way your soft bedding caved in under him. 

“This is nothing like my berth,” he says stoically, you can’t tell if it’s a complaint or an observation. 

“That’s because your bed is made of metal, like you. My bed is made of soft things, like me. I would get muscle pain if I slept on a slab of metal every night,” you respond, settling yourself to be more comfortable in your cocoon.

It’s hard to read him sometimes, his walls so incredibly high. You know he’s here with you; that he was to help you sleep, but you aren’t sure exactly what he wants you to do. 

“Yes, you are quite soft,” he states, one servo moving to place on your waist, careful digits curling round to hold you.

The vibe has immediately changed, from the manner of his voice to the way his servo is on you, you’re not sure what to make of it. 

Your hand shoots to his, gripping onto the metal as you tauten out of awkwardness, lifting his servo so that you can spin around and lie on your side, facing away from him, focusing on his promise to help you sleep. That’s all this is: he’s here to comfort you into sleep.

If you aren’t looking at him, he can’t make you blush. Can’t get those butterflies patting against the lining of your stomach. 

He keeps his servo lifted off of you, but still hovering above your waist as he looks down at you before also coming to rest on his side, sliding himself so that he’s a mere hair away from you, his body almost spooning yours. 

Your breathing picks up as your heart rate quickens. Is this happening? Is Soundwave actually behind you right now, or are you just so lonely that you’ve started to dream about the physical connection? Are you slowly going stir crazy from having no company or interaction with anyone outside of this Decepticon?

“Did you know that I could read minds?” His voice is a fraction above a whisper, the ghost of his servo causing your skin to prickle under its presence.

Your mind starts to fray, feeling like coffee-stained parchment paper as you try to string together a coherent thought.

“Only other cybertronians though, right?” You barely manage to get out.

What can only be described as a gentle chuckle parts from Soundwave, his hand now skimming down under the covers to settle on your thigh.

He drags his servo so gently across your skin that it makes you shiver, his digits catching the hem of the fabric that wrapped around you.

“I can read your mind, too,” it sounds more like a promise than a statement, but you’re sure that he’s probably getting glimpses of your thoughts as he speaks.

His hand slowly disappears up your dress, “I’ve seen all the thoughts you have of me, when you touch yourself at night.”

Your throat tightens as your face goes red hot, eyes fixated on a red cushion in front of you as Soundwave continues his journey up your leg. His caresses so tantalisingly slow, as if he’s testing the waters to see how you’ll react. 

“The thoughts you were having of me before I got here,” he continues, digits trailing to the inside of your thighs, stopping when he feels the texture between your thighs change, signalling a clear wetness, “the evidence of what you were doing is still right here. You cannot hide it from me.”

He’s so cruel, he’s so fucking hot but he’s so cruel. That sensual touch that he’s blessing you with seems to contradict his entire belief in the Decepticon cause, you can’t wrap your head around how someone who has taken so much is giving you more than you could ever imagine with simple caresses. Had it really been so long since anyone but yourself had touched you?

“Touching yourself right-” his digit presses down on your unclothed clit, “here.”

You whimper at his touch, body tensing as he starts to strum lazily at your clit, methodical movements that could be expected from a mech like Soundwave. He was tuning you like the pegs on a guitar, learning where to stroke and how much pressure to apply based on the sounds you produced for him. He had such a musical ear.

“Soundwave,” you moan, your hand coming up to cover your mouth so that you can stifle the unholy sounds you know you won’t be able to help making. Your clit is throbbing against the metal of his finger, you’re already so worked up.

“Take that hand off your mouth,” he orders, “or I will stop.”

Deciding that you absolutely want him to continue, you shakily take your hand away from your mouth and carry on with your whines whilst he plays with you like it’s his second nature. 

His digit is cold and solid, but he’s knowing enough not to press too hard and the chilliness of the metal feels heavenly against your heated sex, balancing the temperature to a perfect middle ground. How he knows how to toy with you here; you aren’t entirely sure, but you’re certainly not complaining. 

Soundwave presses himself flush against you as he continues with circular motions. You hear his mask retract by the subtle shuffling of metal against metal sound, then you feel his firm but pliant derma press against your neck, right against your vein, which was currently pulsing like a rabbit’s whilst being hunted down by a fox. 

You croon under his touch, your back arching as he litters kisses up and down your neck as he now has you fully tuned. Each pluck of the string causes another melodic sound to rise from you.

“Where else is it that you touch yourself when you think of me?” He murmurs against your neck.

A pathetic wail bubbles from you, too embarrassed to dignify that with an answer.

Your stomach somersaulted at a particularly drawn-out circle, a pathetic mewl forced from your mouth as he touched your most sensitive spots. Soundwave felt overwhelming pride, knowing you were putty in his servos without even really trying. You responded to his every movement perfectly, exactly as he envisioned.

He craved it, desperately.

“Is it here?” He continues, fingers leaving your clit so that he can work his way down to your hole, the tip of his middle digit pressing up against your hole.

You suck in a breath before spreading your legs slightly, begging him with your body language to break the seal. Your hole is currently clenching around nothing, anticipation running through you at the things that he could do to you and how willingly you would give in to them.

You were like water, willing to be poured into any cup that he wanted, completely malleable as long as he kept you steady.

“You’ll have to use your words if you want more of me,” he brushes his derma against your jaw, the bright red of his visor bouncing off your cheekbones.

“I want you to put your fingers inside,” you breathe shallowly, “please Soundwave, I want to come apart all over your hand.”

You didn’t realise you were waiting with bated breath until a long sigh tumbled from your lips when his digit circled your hole before pushing in, you were so wet that there was hardly any resistance, but the feeling of your walls cinched around him as he tried to push in deeper wasn't lost on him. Experimentally, he pulled his finger out before it got to the second knuckle, then pushed it back inside.

Each time he repeated this motion, his finger got deeper and deeper. He was easing you to the size of him, it made him realise how much preparation you would need before taking his spike, which was currently aching for release.

"We have some work to do before I can stuff my spike in here," Soundwave stated simply, but the grin plastered on his face could be heard through his intonation alone, “I think I’d break your pretty little hole as it is right now.”

A bolt of arousal shot through you at the promise of things to come, you choked on a moan as you felt your eyes shake in their sockets slightly. Your hands came down to grip his wrist, your legs spreading further, setting your outer one over his thigh to give him full access to you.

Once satisfied with the stretch of your cunt around his digit, it began to piston in and out of you without mercy, All the while your cunt clenched around him the more aggressive he got. You couldn’t help but scream and moan, Soundwave was clearly motivated by the sounds you made.

He was listening to your noises like they were the perfect combination of chords, a hymn that preached to his very spark. He regrets not taking you like this sooner.

The obscene squelching noises of his digit working miracles on you made your ears burn and cheeks flush, you could feel your juices splashing against his hand and your thighs just from the pace that he’d set within you. 

The tips of his digits ran so smoothly against your walls, he was feeling every inch of you that he could reach as he latched his intake back on your neck, this time opting to suck on a particularly sensitive area. 

Your voice was high and strangled as you called out his name in broken breaths. You thrust your hips in rhythm with him from pure arousal, fucking yourself on his digit.

“M-more, please, add another digit,” your lashes were wet as your body was reaching a temperature that you weren’t sure you could regulate anymore.

“So eager to take me,” Soundwave proudly bit your shoulder as he wiggled another digit to pair with his other, now using a beckoning motion to drag against the most swollen parts inside of you.

“Primus made you for me,” Soundwave hushed into your ear before scissoring his fingers apart to help stretch you, “he made sure that you would be the perfect fit for me.”

With another hissing sound, which was only just muffled by the covers, you felt something long and hard run up the small of your back, it settling against the dip of your spine. Chills ran through you, the skin on your arms goosebumpy. You couldn’t see it, but the weight of it alone attested to how big he was.

Yes, you would definitely need to be properly prepped for a beast of that size.

Your vision started to darken at the edges like a vignette as he continued to bully his fingers knuckle deep in you, your thighs utterly soaked, as well as your bedding. Your head suddenly felt too heavy to hold up, falling forward as you gripped onto the blanket, hard enough to tear it.

He started shallowly thrusting his spike against your back, the minimal friction hardly enough to do anything substantial for him. You have no idea how much he wanted to bury it in you here and now.

“I can feel how close you are,” Soundwave snarled, “I want to feel you release on my hand. I want you to do it now.”

The demanding tone took you over the tophat, the strings of the guitar snapping and coiling under the tension, but you were not expecting for a forceful stream of cum to gush out of you. The sensation, like a cold tap being released over you, made you thrash backwards as your head shot back up, a scream ripping from your throat.

You had never, ever squirted before. Not once. Not even close.

The embarrassment of the situation immediately struck you and all you could come out with was a raspy ‘oh my god.’

Soundwave poked his glossa out and ran it up the side of your neck, “I’d very much like to make you do that again.”

His digits pulled out of you, your essence dripping from him. 

Deciding to prolong your humiliation, he pulled his servo up to show you exactly how messy you made him. 

“I’m- I’m so sorry,” you gasped, feeling a tingling sensation in your fingertips.

“Oh sweet thing, don’t be sorry,” he harrumphed before shoving the two digits into your mouth to make you suck on them, pushing down on your tongue to keep you obedient, “it just means I did a good job.”

You suckled on his fingers, cleaning your mess from him as you weaved your tongue around his digits, trying your best to swallow what you could whilst your mouth was full.

His digits parted in your mouth and ran along your tongue as he slowly withdrew them out, servo following down to grab your jaw. His derma skimmed across the shell of your ear.

“Now come and sit on my face,” he spoke, voice full of intention and not a lick of hesitation. 

He manoeuvred onto his back, shuffling down the bedding to lie flat as he pulled you from your lying position.

With a timidness, you clambered up onto your knees as you knelt beside him, the optics behind his visor being more than welcoming, ushering you to take a seat as he had asked. 

Your soft fingers travelled down to brush against the hem of your nightgown, looking at him with uncertainty.

“That’s it, take it off,” he encouraged with a fiery tone, spike so painfully pressurised and desperate to see your naked form.

A quick nod from you, then gripping the bottom of your clothing and pulling it up over your head. Now, you sit completely bare in front of him.

Swallowing down the buildup of saliva in your mouth, you crawled up the makeshift bed before swinging one leg onto the other side of him by his neck. You shuddered a breath as you peered down, hovering above him.

“I said,” he grasped your thighs and pulled you down to his intake, “sit.”

Plopping yourself down on his face with a mild yelp, you were met immediately with his tongue licking a line from your clit to your slit.

He stuck his glossa inside as far as he could, causing his tongue to nuzzle against your clit. It felt so different to a human mouth, his glossa solid but plated, almost ribbed for your pleasure.

Your hands found stability on his helm as your hips started to gyrate against his incredibly giving intake. You started to make unobstructed noises of bliss for the mech between your legs. He smirked against you, your whimpers didn’t miss the spot he was hoping you’d hit.

His servos came up to grab onto your waist, encouraging you to grind against his glossa and intake.

Through his visor, he looked up to you whilst his tongue explored you. He never wanted to cease tonguing this perfect cunt, his spike leaking transfluid and smearing on the supple material of your blankets. His pleasure wasn’t the priority right now, as he knew he would have that in abundance once he had properly conditioned your sweet pussy into taking him.

He studied how the mounds on your chest moved in time with your breathing, how if the room was any colder, there would be puffs of steam emitting from your pretty mouth from how hot and bothered you were getting.

Having your tight hole stretched over his tongue like it was the last thing he would do, he marvelled at the way your walls pulsed with excitement and gripped his glossa, like you would never free him. 

You choked on a cry as you felt your body shiver with pleasure, your leg muscles tensing as you rode him. How lucky you were that he didn’t need to breathe, he could keep at this until you were a puddle of fucked out euphoria on the floor, reduced to nothing but something he could sink his spike into when the mood took him. 

Your brows were bunched up as your toes curled, his glossa not far off the size of a human cock, but it could do so much more for you than any mortal could ever dream of. The way he played with your inner cavern, pressing the flat of his glossa right against your g-spot, it had you feeling dizzy.

His motions against you were like a snare drum, deep and resonating as he continued his assault, demanding you dance to his rhythm.

“Fuck, Soundwave, fuck, just like that, ple-e-ah!” You warbled, your heartbeat in your clit.

He had his face practically plugged into your lower half, glutting himself on the fluids that trickled from you. A vigorous moan slipped past the crack of your lips as you heard him slurp down everything that your lust-filled body is giving him. 

Your thighs shook shallowly, his tongue stimulating your walls and his nose nuzzling against your clit adding to the sensation. His moderate pace added more emphasis to what he was doing, and just how exactly he was treating you. Every movement calculated and purposeful.

Retrieving his tongue from your hole, he moved up to your clit. His fingers digging into your waist left little white marks, licking you up and down over and over again.

“I know exactly where you like to be licked, little one,” his voice was muted against the meat of your cunt, “I’ve seen it in your thoughts.”

You were panting like you had just run a marathon, he was thoroughly enjoying unravelling the yarn of your composure and collectedness.

Doing a figure of eights on your nub, he was steadily bringing you to another nerve-shattering climax, he intended to get you to squirt in his mouth, wanting to be drenched in you. There was a tight ring winding and winding inside your lower stomach, your body screaming for release, you could feel your lower half heating, getting closer to the cliff edge.

Moving his glossa up, down and through your folds, there was no part of you that he wasn’t going to investigate, wasn’t going to lay claim to. He buzzed at your taste, the vibrations traversing along his glossa and delighting you even more, you could feel the small thrums of his internal systems working to regulate his frame's heat.

With a particular hard suck on your clit, you felt him will your orgasm out from your core, sucking every ounce of pleasure from your docile body, you saw a film of tears spread over your eyes as you were speechless, but he didn't stop. He continued eating your cunt like a mech on the brink of an energon-drought, he would guide you through every thrashing wave that ensnared you.

Your head fell back as your hips slowed, a jumbled mess of moans, whines, pleas of his name, tumbling from your lips.

“You didn’t squirt this time,” Soundwave’s static voice sliced through the mist of your comedown like a freshly sharpened blade, “should we try again?”

A meek coo fizzled from you, weakly shaking your head, but making no movement to lift yourself off of his face, “I just want you to fuck me.”

Your voice, your words, they were like a golden sigh from a harp to Soundwave’s audials. 

Wrapping your thighs around his neck whilst he snaked his servos onto either side of your waist, he flipped your positions with surprising ease, befitting the strength of an alien robot. Your back met the scattered cushions with an oomph. He was settled on his knees, faceplate still down by your cunt. 

Giving one more lick up from your hole to your clit, he pulled away before yanking you down the bedding, placing you exactly where he wanted you. Beneath him.

Firmly planting his servos on either side of your shoulders, he retracted his visor so that you could look at him in the optics properly. This sight, his face without any coverings, was something you hadn’t seen before. 

His beauty was like the first swell of an orchestra, taking you by surprise and leaving you without any words. What a shame that he always keeps it hidden.

The adoration in your eyes didn’t go unrecognised, the way your eyes glimmered as you committed every detail of his face to memory. Now you know how he feels whenever he sees you.

“Now, what was that position you were thinking about before I got here?” Soundwave hummed, posing it as a question but it was purely rhetorical, putting the atmosphere back on track to lustful and mindless fucking.

His left servo came down to grab your leg, winding around behind your knee to push your leg up towards your chest and hook it over his shoulder.

“Ah yes, this was it,” he mused as he repeated the motion to your other leg, your body now folded at the hip and completely at his mercy, your ankles by his audials. The two of you fit together like a violin and its bow, carefully designed to work seamlessly together.

“I vividly recall how you got yourself off to the idea of me taking you in this position.”

You gasped, the room getting warmer and air getting thicker as your cunt continued to leak in waiting. With a hard push, your pussy took in the tip of his spike, which was a silvery blue with overlapping plating, which you could tell would feel exceptional against your walls when he thrusted just right. 

You hissed when he was about a third of the way in, the girth of his spike making a pinching feeling as your walls strained to accommodate him.  It was only uncomfortable for a short moment because your body wasn't used to such a feeling, not having been with anyone nearly as big as he was. He cursed under his breath at how tight you were, bringing one servo to hold around your shin as he piledrived his hips against you.

You were inundated, completely dripping for him. You were just begging to be fucked and served on a silver platter to him, your whole body cried for it, making him lick his derma with desire.

Your curses and moans like a song cradling on your tongue, explicit sin and ardour just for him. Despite it not seeming possible, he began to enhance his ministrations, and it did not disappoint. He buried himself deep within you, so impossibly deep, which this position allowed for charitably. 

“Something is missing,” Soundwave observed, “something else in your thoughts from earlier.”

His right servo lifted from beside you, settling over your neck. Your eyes went wide with frenzy as he applied pressure to the sides, restricting the blood flow, gently at first. Getting a feel for how far he could push your body.

“That’s it,” he grinned, denta bared, “you wanted your brains fucked out whilst I choked you. Well, who am I to deny you?”

You arched your back off the bedding as you gulped down a sharp inhale of air, the tapestries decorating your mind starting to get torn down from the walls. The way you managed to get even tighter around him once he had a servo around your neck was beginning to overload his circuits.

You moaned wildly at the feeling of his spike inside of you, petting his ego. You could feel the blood pumping in your ears, your hearing deafened slightly by the booming sound, you could barely make out your own screams and the unbridled grunts from the mech on top of you. Despite his previous efforts to tune you, you now felt like an untuned piano being played violently in an abandoned castle. 

Your hands threaded through the blanket, bunching it in a vice grip as the room filled with the sounds of metal hitting skin, your backside sure to bruise come the morning.

The way your bodies moulded so perfectly together, it was like a harmony that even silence would be jealous of. 

“I will fuck you until you cannot think of anyone else but me,” Soundwave growled above you, optics locked onto eyes which were rolling into the back of your head, “make you overload so good that not even you will be able to satisfy yourself after this.”

The slapslapslap was beyond vulgar, your juices splattering against his hip plating, his spike gliding so effortlessly in and out of you. 

“Tell me, who do you belong to?”

You strained, your breath leaving your lungs as you felt lightheaded from the restriction of blood flow. "S-Sou-ouhn, Soundwave, I belong to you!"

The smirk that spread on his derma was infectious. No, he would certainly never be taking you home. Not when you service his spike like no one else ever has. You were trying your very best to be coherent, but that was harder than you thought it would be.

Soundwave took no hesitation in leaning down to kiss you, running his glossa against your bottom lip, the only time he would request entry. You didn’t wait to grant him what he wanted, letting him tangle your tongues together as your heartbeat on your neck pulsed rapidly against the tips of his digits.

He never fell short of breathtaking, and he never failed to please you until you could see fireballs, his hips drove so wickedly in and out of you, your legs were beginning to go numb.

Your pleasured cries were lost in his mouth. Your hair was beginning to knot at the back from being pushed back and forth on the sheets.

His dexterous digits gripped your neck tighter, until your vision started to ebb, tears now streaming down your cheeks. Desperation burned your lips as you called his name, the noises you made for each other were like a love song, the blusters parroting around the room. 

This is a sight he will never forget. He’s filed it safely away in his memory files, paired with the delightful tunes you make.

Your voice shattered as you found yet another release, this time fulfilling his wish from before and unleashing a spray of liquid over his plating, the sensation taking you so viciously that you did end up ripping the fibres of your blanket.

Soundwave’s hips stuttered, so fucking turned on by how you just coated him. His grip on your neck loosened, but he still kept his servo in place.

“You were made to be mine,” his voice was low and guttural as he slammed his spike back into you in three more hard drives, before burying himself as far as he could go and letting his own release grace him, a reward for all of his patience in working you up earlier.

Your body had an involuntary reaction to the heat of his fluids filling you, a pathetic cry twisting from you as your body took every drop that he sanctified you with. There was no god in this empty box, only a divine servitor that took the shape of the cybertronian currently snug inside of you.

Once you were out of the woods from the pleasure, the reality of the situation sank in, a visceral fear seizing your system as you realised that he had finished inside of you. What were the repercussions of having his ancient fluids deposited inside of you?

Sensing your fear, Soundwave hushed down to you in a tone that was as gentle as a lullaby, “it’s safe.”

He kept you plugged up as he brought his derma down to place a soft kiss on your lips, “I wouldn’t let any harm come to you.”

With great effort, you pulled your legs down from his shoulders to settle them over his hips, “I trust you.”

One of his servos cupped the side of your face, his thumb rubbing gently over your cheekbone.

“Do you think you could fall asleep now?” He asked, tone still incredibly gentle.

You nodded your head, a subtle smile appearing on your lips, “only if you stay here with me.”

He kissed you again, moving against you like gentle waves under a full moon. 

[aventurineswife]

Has anyone requested anything fluffy and platonic for Pom-Pom?????? The conductor works hard on the express almost 24/7 they deserve some love too!!

Can we get Reader helping Pom-Pom with chores, please? 🥹

A Helping Hand Along the Way

Summary: You help Pom-Pom, the tireless conductor of the Express, with their duties. Overworked and exhausted from managing the train’s operations, Pom-Pom accepts your offer to lend a hand. Together, you sort papers, clean compartments, and share a quiet, heartfelt moment. Pom-Pom reflects on the importance of companionship during the journey, realizing that even conductors like them need help and rest sometimes.

Tags: Pom-Pom x Reader, Platonic Relationship, Friendship, Comfort, Helping Hands, Self-Care, Heartwarming, Light-hearted.

A/N: this is the first time I think I have seen a PomPom req 🧍‍♀️

Pom-Pom had been running around, keeping the Express running like clockwork. As the conductor, Pom-Pom was always on their toes, attending to tasks and making sure everything was just right. It wasn't the easiest job, and Pom-Pom had been tirelessly moving from one chore to the next.

You noticed how worn out Pom-Pom seemed, so you decided to step in and offer some assistance. After all, even the dedicated conductor needed a little help from time to time.

As Pom-Pom rushed by with a bundle of tools, you called out, “Pom-Pom! Can I help with anything?”

Pom-Pom stopped, their fluffy ears twitching slightly as they looked up at you. Their eyes softened, and they sighed with relief. “Ah, you wish to help Pom-Pom? I appreciate that. Pom-Pom has been quite busy lately... but I do not wish to burden others with my troubles.”

You smiled warmly, “It’s no trouble at all. I’d be happy to help. What needs to be done?”

Pom-Pom’s small paws held out a stack of papers. “These are for maintenance, repairs, and upcoming schedules. They need to be organized... but Pom-Pom cannot keep up with everything on their own. So many tasks... so little time.”

You accepted the papers, nodding. “No problem! I’ll sort these out for you. You take a moment to rest.”

Pom-Pom hesitated for a moment before giving a small nod. “Very well, but do not overwork yourself. Pom-Pom will be back to check on you soon.”

As Pom-Pom hurried off, you started to organize the papers into neat piles, separating them based on priority. You couldn’t help but admire how dedicated Pom-Pom was to their role as conductor. The Express was their world, and they cared deeply about the passengers and the train. It made sense that they would be so meticulous, but everyone deserved a break, even Pom-Pom.

After finishing the sorting, you moved on to cleaning up some compartments. It wasn’t glamorous work, but it helped keep the Express running smoothly. You dusted off the surfaces, humming to yourself as you went along.

It wasn’t long before Pom-Pom returned, their fluffy tail swaying gently behind them as they took in the sight of the tidy space and the sorted papers. Their eyes widened with a soft glow of appreciation.

“You... You have finished everything already?” Pom-Pom asked, a little surprised but clearly relieved. “Pom-Pom did not expect such quick work. You... have been very helpful.”

You smiled, giving them a thumbs-up. “Of course! It’s the least I could do. You work so hard to keep the Express running. I thought I’d pitch in.”

Pom-Pom’s expression softened, their usual serious demeanor shifting to one of quiet gratitude. “Pom-Pom appreciates your help... It is not often Pom-Pom has someone offer assistance. But, it is true... even conductors need a break.”

You nodded. “Exactly. You’re always looking after everyone else. It’s only fair that we look out for you, too.”

Pom-Pom looked down for a moment, then back at you with a small, almost shy smile. “You are right. There is much to do, but it is the companions we share the journey with who make the moments truly worthwhile. Whether it is Pom-Pom or the passengers, we all must cherish these bonds.”

You smiled, feeling the weight of Pom-Pom’s words. “I’m glad I could be a part of your journey, Pom-Pom.”

For the rest of the day, you continued to work together, tackling small tasks here and there. It wasn’t a grand gesture, but it was a peaceful, quiet moment of shared effort. Pom-Pom might have been the heart and soul of the Express, but today, you were there to help keep that heart beating just a little bit stronger.

And as the day went on, you realized that sometimes the most meaningful moments weren’t the grand adventures or exciting destinations. It was the simple acts of kindness shared along the way that made the journey worth taking.

[severedfromthesource]

Androids and Electric Sheep

Ren is experiencing an unusual bug. Features F resus, M rescuer, CPR, stething, mouth to mouth, internal defibs, sex leading to cardiac arrest, sex acts both with consent and a person who cannot consent. I got too invested in the preamble so I highlighted the moment resus actually starts if you want to skip it.

No matter how advanced technology gets, it’ll only ever be used to fulfill man’s most base desires. Case in point- RN-34678. Or Ren, when the barcodes make my eyes glaze over and I get sick of calling them the number slurry X Tech names absolutely everything. Ren is as sophisticated as they come. Actual artificial intelligence. She makes the predictive text and ‘can’t even draw fingers’ image generating 21st century jokes people passed off as AI look like even more of a waste of time than they had been in those days. They might as well have been Speak n Spells. The collective power of every single basement dwelling crypto whizz kid with miles of wires and burnt up processors and bricked up video cards dedicated to their etherium farms pale in comparison to the computing power it takes to run Ren’s brain for an hour. She understands nearly 6,000 languages. She learns and retains information, consuming nearly 160 TB of memory every 8 hours. The bio-organic lace that makes up the net of her brain is a miracle, with the possibility of infinite memory. She is perfect in every sense of the word.

She is a glorified fuck toy.

The second the first android became commercially available, one of the first markets they hit was sex work. If nothing about late stage capitalism drove you crazy, that would have. Fuck curing cancer, or making androids for the dangerous, back breaking work people wreck their bodies to do, X Tech decided people needed a sex doll with a 100k price tag. The world’s most expensive cum sock. And yeah, alright, maybe I’m just bitter, partially because there’s no way in hell I could ever afford one, even as an android technician. But what a waste. She sits on my examination table, dutifully unzipping her black leather catsuit. Her managers always manage to stick her in something stupid looking, so overblown and sexualized they stop even being sexy at a certain point.

She looks up at me with lilac eyes. Last time they’d been blue. I like this shade better, I think, though I could do without the electric blue bob they have her wearing today. ”Your crash reports say you’ve been throwing error codes whenever a stream donation comes in over 2k,” I say. Which, for a bot like Ren, is quite a lot of her donations. “It’s probably just a bug in payment processing.” I look again over her diagnostics, floating on the screen at my desk. “Any complaints I wouldn’t find in the debug menu?”

”My heart has been feeling strange,” she says. I pause and look at her over the top of my glasses. “Well, firstly, it’s not your heart. An aether pump does not a heart make. Secondly, it shouldn’t feel like anything. You’re supposed to ignore the inner workings, it’s all background programs, runs without you thinking about it.” She shrugs. Her shoulders are pale as she rolls down the catsuit and pulls her arms from the sleeves, bunching up the tight leather around her midriff. Her breasts are small and round, standing upright as pretty as a Botticelli painting. I’d noticed the small bumps on either side of her nipples (Christ, did the things ever go soft? Or were they just always cutting glass?) but didn’t register until I saw them now that her managers had pierced them sometime since our last checkup. Little silver bars were stuck through the pink nubs, with winking silver balls on either end. Alright, cool, chill.

I clear my throat and pull up my rolling stool. “Well, let’s just take a look then.” I shift once I’m seated to alleviate the pressure of my stiffening cock. Listen, I’m not a technophile, honest to God. I go out of my way to filter out androids when I’m scrolling through porn sites because, despite the leaps and bounds we’ve made in technology, the uncanny valley is still a thing. It feels weird getting off to bots. But then there’s Ren. And fuck me if she isn’t the most attractive thing I’ve ever seen. I put a hand on the back of her neck, my thumb resting at the diagnostic mode button hidden just under the edge of her jaw. I feel the soft bump that sinks in when I press. Her lilac eyes flash black with snatches of white text, then roll back to lilac. Damn, she smells like a new car.

I glance back at the monitor, and as I suspected, nothing comes up about the aether pump. It seems in perfect working order. Still, I dig around my box of scrap wires and spare tubing until I find my mostly neglected stethoscope. I don’t often have to use it, but I feel a trill of excitement go up from my stomach to think I get to use it on Ren. I plug up my ears and put a hand on her shoulder, taking the bell of the steth in my other hand. Her breasts rise and fall with the rhythm of her breathing, set to mimic human intervals. The real purpose is to cool down her insides and keep her from overheating, but just like the aether pump and its auditory cues, its designed to mimic humans as closely as possible. After a guy fucks something like Ren, he gets the added benefit of being able to lay next to her and listen to her breathing. Feel her heart beat. Doesn’t matter what the purpose of the design is for, it matters so he doesn’t feel like he’s fucking a 100k fleshlight with arms and legs. I press the steth to a spot above her breast and it sinks into her pillowy soft skin like it was real. Cool it, Christ, you can’t get so hot and bothered over everything. Heel, boy.

But my thumb makes a slight imprint against her tit, and it’s hard to think of anything else. Same thing happens when I press the steth against a space under her breast, and it lays warmly against the back of my hand. The pump, like the fake lungs, is designed to look and act and even sound like a heart, pumping coolant through her body. I tell her it’s not a heart out of some petty, pedantic need to distance myself and my unique humanity, but truth is, the thing is a heart. She could die if something went really wrong with it, and a lot of bots have. Sudden cardiac arrest was one of the main bugs in the 2.3 rollout. It got so bad, tons of models in the service industry had to be recalled, because mechanical line cooks and servers were dropping if the ovens got too hot. My hand still on her neck, I pull her forward and press the bell to her back. Her forehead brushes against my shoulder, her gaudy blue wig draping against the side of my neck and jaw. I tilt my head just enough my nose brushes her hair. Fuck, she really does smell good.

“Well, I don’t hear any irregularities,” I tell her, because I don’t. The thing is pumping liquid aether around her body at around 70 bpm, like it should. She draws up from my shoulder, glancing at me sideways. “It only seems to happen with clients,” she says, drying out my throat in an instant. “Clients?” “Mhm. Whenever one of them climaxes. If they do it inside me, my heart starts going very fast. I get foggy and I can’t think afterwards.” I swallow. “Right,” I say, “I mean… I can’t exactly test that, Ren.” She touches my wrist. “It’s rather frightening, Doc. I worry…” She pauses, and I try very hard not to say out loud what I’m thinking. You shouldn’t be frightened of anything, Ren. You’re not supposed to feel any of this. She sits back, bringing her hand up, her fingers curling against where her pump lies in her chest, half covering her nudity.

She doesn’t want to get recalled. I wince in spite of myself. If she has the same defect others in her rollout had, she’s going right back to X Tech. I push the steth around my neck, scooping back hair from my face. “It’s a pretty fatal system flaw. It… I could… Well, I-“ I can’t look at her. Fuck, I really can’t look at her. My face feels hot. This is the plot of like, 90% of bot R34 on the internet. I might as well be a pizza delivery guy and she a lonely housewife who’s a few bucks short on a large sausage. She ‘breathes’. Her chest goes up and down, the lights winking off her pierced nipples. She’s so goddamn gorgeous.

“Doc?” “Thinking,” I huff. I spare a glance around the other cubicles bordering mine. Big glass offices, designed for this exact stupid fucking thing I’m about to do. The first guy who got caught with his dick in a bot ruined it for everyone, so now my coworkers and I are subjected to rat lab cubicles where we can look in on each other at any given moment. People around us testing reflexes, repairing cosmetic damage, quashing bugs. What I was about to do was also technically debugging, but there was no way in hell my boss was gonna see it that way if he saw my flat ass pumping in and out of a bot worth more than I make in a year on the other side of plexiglass. Alright, cool, chill. I scoop up my backpack with my work laptop and sling it over my shoulder. “Bathroom,” I whisper.

Cut to Ren and I, locked in the women’s bathroom. We have three women in the office, and their cubes are on the other side of the building, closer to another bathroom. This one is usually empty. Cut to her, awkwardly standing in front of a toilet. Me, on the verge of being the Most Fired Man Who Ever Lived. For extra security, I’d stuffed us both into a stall, locking it behind me too. It's cramped, which adds to the feeling this is absolutely not what I'm supposed to be doing. But hey, it's my job, isn't it?

I awkwardly maneuver around her and sit on the toilet lid, hastily undoing my pants. God, this is shameful. And weirdly hot? I can't tell if it's just Ren or the dozen or so corporate regulations and general laws I'm breaking doing this, but I can feel the pulse in my cock, pressing up against the inseam of my jeans. Those lavender eyes flick from my face to the swollen, flushed skin, and the outer rim of her pupils flash with color. I help her roll down the leather catsuit and then, holy shit, Jesus, Mary and Joseph, I’m inside her. She feels real. My hands on her back, my face buried in her tits, her thighs on mine, she feels realer than any woman I had ever known. My breath warms her artificial skin, and the barbell through her nipple is cold, the contrast making me shiver whenever the hot skin of my cheek touches the metal. My fingers slide up her stomach, her hips bucking and pumping me in and out of her. She’s tight. Really fuckin tight. I can feel her aether pump, the artificial heart, throbbing in her inner walls, harder than any real heart I’d ever felt. It adds to every stroke, a thumping sensation that’s nearly making me come after a couple thrusts. Christ, I might as well be sticking my dick right against the chambers of her fake heart.

The job. Right, I’m doing a job. Fuck, I’ve never loved my job so much. “Lemme- ngh, God, fuck- lemme see i-ins-side your ch-est, R-Ren.” She’s straddling my lap, panting like a porn star, her bob swinging back and forth, and she nods. The synthetic skin goes translucent, a dull blue glow that starts at her collarbone and down to the bottom of her ribcage. I spare only a brief chuckle, Man, we never could get rid of those stupid gamer lights, before I try to focus my attention on her inner workings. The aether heart is basically a simplified human one, drawing hot fluid in one side and squeezing out coolant through the other in an eternal ebb and flow. And right now, it’s going insane. The valves are snapping open and closed rapidly, the thing shuddering instead of really beating. There’s a little display window pinned under her collarbone, and it’s clocking her at 150 bpm, the green spikes of her heartbeat saw toothing across the round display port. Not totally dangerous, but as I pump inside of her and she bounces on my thighs to match my quickening pace, it keeps climbing.

Alright. As much as I want to be stuck in here forever, with a beautiful woman bouncing on my dick in a way I’ve only ever dreamed of, I have to figure out what’s wrong. I wrap my arms around her body, pulling her flush against my chest. “Hold onto me, ‘kay?” I breathe against her ear. Her arms slid around me, nails brushing briefly against my shoulder blades. I take in her scent. Focus on the sensations of her body, the sharp cold of her piercings, breasts pressed against my chest, her warm, throbbing cunt. It doesn’t take long. I start to lose the rhythm as my breath shortens, my strokes shortening too, until finally I can take it no more. I come, hot seed filling her up, bathing my cock, spilling out from between our sexes. Her back arches, a cry ripping from her throat of the most exquisite ecstasy.

Then she dies.

No, seriously, the bot quits all at once. I’m there, still trying to enjoy the feeling of my load making her even tighter and full, when she goes completely limp. Her arms slide down from my back, and the artificial pulse I feel in her cunt just stops all at once. She’s dead weight on top of me. “Fuck,” I spit, trying to readjust her, but she’s goddamn heavy. “Ren? Hey, Ren- man, what the fuck-”

I look up at her sternum to see the aether pump has stopped. The little internal monitor is reading a flatline. I fumble to unlatch the bathroom door, my other hand cradling her back, as I awkwardly shift to try and swing it open. Both of us end up in a heap on the floor when I try to pick her up. I'm apologizing to her slack and lifeless face as I disentangle myself and hastily zip up, then lay her flat on her back. Her perfect round breasts sit in the open air, her still heart glowing between them. I set my laptop beside her and hook up a USB into the command port hidden behind her ear.

There was no tip off in her crash reports, but looking now, I can see the absolute mess of code in the last few lines she ran before arresting. I clean up some of the irregularities, get rid of the redundancies, and hit reboot. Two small circular nodes glow within her chest, then snap against the chambers of her heart. Basically built in defib units. Her body jerks, hand twitching in against her cheek, her back arching slightly. Her naked shoulder blades slap against the tile floor as she falls back, limp again. But she doesn't move. Her pump is still. I glance at the monitor and see FATAL SYSTEM ERROR flash across the screen. Fuck, am I going to have to do this manually?

Growling in frustration, I throw my hands against her sternum. It's easy to get the right position when I can see her heart lying beneath a few layers of synthetic skin. Squaring my shoulders, I push down hard. Unlike with real CPR on a real person, depth doesn't matter, nor the risk of breaking ribs. She's basically Wolverine. A hydraulic crusher couldn't break her ribs. They yield though, and bow in against her spine as I rhythmically pump her heart. The force ripples through her whole body. Her stomach pops up, her shoulders shrug in, her head rolls back and forth. I look from her face down to her tits. I can't help it, they're swaying with each compression, the light catching her piercings. I can feel the cool metal rest against my fingers. The position my hands are in leaves my fingertip pressing against her nipple, still standing upright from our exercise. A shiver runs through me. Am I seriously getting hard again? It's hard not to. My eyes drink in her still body, the remnants of our session dribbling down her thigh, her breasts bouncing like they had when she was riding me.

I can almost see the corner of the screen light up with “Kink Unlocked: Reviving Dead Girls”. I glance at the monitor and see the reboot option has lit up again. When I take my hands away from her chest, I see her aether pump jerking as if trying to start again. Once more I charge the internal defibrillators. While they hum to life, I partake in a ritual that isn't strictly necessary. The hero always gets to indulge in mouth to mouth with the downed heroine. She doesn't actually need air, but her lips are slack, full and inviting. I press mine over hers, breathing air she doesn't need into her mouth. I can feel her cheeks puff, and I'm surprised but excited to see her chest rises too. I give her a few quick bursts of oxygen. Her chest jerks up and I only allow it to fall part way before I give her another, making her chest rise and fall in short hyperventilations. My hand finds itself running up her stomach to feel the motion of my breaths, up over her breast again. It fills my palm as I breathe a long, slow draft into her throat, and I roll her nipple between my fingers. She sighs out recycled air against my face when I break the seal of our lips.

Man, how do EMTs not cum when they resuscitate hot girls? The whole tableau is so erotic, I can feel my pulse once more jerk in my cock. The defibs once more slap the chambers of her artificial heart and she thrashes under the current. Her breasts sway and she again falls limp to the tiles.

“Come on, Ren,” I say under my breath, watching her aether pump swelling at uneven intervals. The chambers aren't beating right still, snapping open and closed out of sync with one another. I again check her code on my laptop, using one hand to tap through my options. The other I lay against her sternum. It occurs to me I really don't know what the fuck I'm doing. Whatever feels like it helps, I guess. Or whatever feels good. I grind my heel in against her heart in slow, rhythmic compressions with one hand. “Come on, work with me here. Breathe for me. Do something, at least let me know you're not completely bricked.” The idea that she might be makes me swallow hard. I like Ren. I don't want to ship her off to the junkyard as much as she doesn't want to be shipped.

When her heart goes still again I lace my fingers together and start pumping her chest anew. I forget my laptop entirely- this isn't a software issue, it's the hardware in her chest acting up. If I can just get the damn thing to reset. Swinging my leg over her supple thighs, I straddle her so I can use my whole body. Like this, I can feel the motion my work creates in her otherwise still body. Each powerful thrust against her pump rolls the kinetic force through her whole body. Her feet swing back and forth. The force rolls from her chest, down her stomach, even rippling her thighs. Each compression makes her stomach roll out, only now I can feel it between my legs.

Fuck it, I'm already fired. These life saving efforts have got me hard all over again, something I would have thought impossible. I unzip and thrust into her almost in one motion. It's next to impossible to actually pump into her while I'm working her heart, so I mostly settle for letting her body rock into me while I do CPR. Only when the prompt for the defibrillator pops up again do I allow myself to roll my hips into her while it charges. The thing whines quietly as I brace my hand against her chest, driving my cock deep inside her. It slaps her heart again and she arches her back, filling my hand against her sternum. Her inner walls clench with the electricity and I groan as I roll in and out of her. That's when she draws in a breath and moans all at once. Her eyes flutter open and she instinctively begins to grind her hips in rhythm with me. Before long I'm filling her up all over again and I collapse on top of her. She's back. The thought strikes me as I look down and see her aether pump snapping out a normal, if elevated rhythm. I roll off onto the welcome chill of the tile floors, my arm still slung around her.

“You okay?” I pant, my eyes half lidded as I look at her. Ren nods, smiling weakly in return. Then she’s wrapping her arms around me, burying her face in my shoulder. I hesitate, the shame of what I had done to her when she was basically dead starting to creep up now that the high is waning. But eventually I slide my arms around her in return, drawing her close to my body. “Thank you, doc,” she whispers.

“Don't mention it.” Seriously, don't mention any of this.

[redtsundere-writes]

Date 2. Listening To Music

Simon "Ghost" Riley x Soldier!Reader

🡨 Previous | Next 🡪

Summary: You just want to help Ghost to stop harming himself… These aren't dates, okay?

TW: MNDI. Self-harm.

Warnings & Tags

Ghost hated that Price smoked so close to his bed. Although he was partly to blame for choosing the bunk closest to the window. Now and then he would catch the captain smoking with half his body out of the window to “avoid” stinking up the room, but it never worked. The smell reminded him of his father. His harsh laugh with the smoke escaping from his cruel lips. Ghost couldn’t stand it anymore, he had to get his anger out.

The hallways were dark, but Ghost already knew the way to the exit by heart. Walk out of the room until he reached the wall, then walk left along it and go down the second staircase that led directly to the reception and then the exit. His boots echoed against each metal step, he stopped halfway when he heard a second pair of boots. He turned around to find you following him, rubbing your eyes half asleep.

“Are you going to the gym?” You asked.

You were face to face, thanks to you being a few steps higher to compensate. Ghost looked away out of shame, he didn't want to admit what you already knew. His knuckles had already healed, and he was ready to destroy them again. You sighed as your suspicions were confirmed.

“Follow me,” you asked, passing by him to lead the way.

Since you had caught him red-handed, Ghost had no choice but to follow you. You followed the stairs until they reached the common room where the shared television was and some private offices to do work or make phone calls, although most soldiers used it for other things.

“I once told my father that I was depressed, and he just told me: 'You're not depressed, you just have a dirty room.' So I did. I left it spotless,” you told him as you led him to the storage room.

“Did it work?” Ghost asked curiously.

“No,” you answered honestly. “But at least I cried in a clean room.”

You opened the door with a mischievous little smirk. Ghost could already imagine what awaited him from that short story. On the other side was a messy world, filled with canned food, blankets, and cleaning products piled up on metal shelves. Sense and order had been thrown around, and now you had to find it.

“Tonight we’re going to clean and organize the entire storage room,” you explained.

“We?” Ghost arched an eyebrow under his balaclava.

“I have seen your locker, trust me, you’ll need help,” you told him, rolling up your sleeves to get started.

You both got to work. Ghost dusted the cans off and you stacked them. You separated the cleaning products by sections of use, while Ghost swept the cobwebs off the ceiling. You both folded the blankets so that they would be better accommodated on one of the upper shelves. The whole night passed by. You did not talk because there was not much to say. You had been working together for more than a year, so you were already comfortable with each other's silence.

You were labeling some cardboard boxes until you came across one that had “Lost and Found” written on it. Your curiosity got the better of you, and you opened it to discover what was inside. Old t-shirts, ridiculous keychains, an empty canteen, everything seemed relatively normal until you saw a relic.

“Hey, Ghost, check this out. I haven’t seen one of these in years!” You called out excitedly to show him a pill-shaped MP3 player with its respective headphones connected. “And it turns on!” Your eyes sparkled as the screen light up green.

You sat on the floor, your back against the shelf, to find out what kind of music it had. The owner of the MP3 really liked 80s rock. AC/DC, Journey, Tears for Fears are some bands he had in his small library. Ghost joined you curiously, stealing an earphone to share.

“This person has good taste,” you commented.

“Not bad,” Ghost shrugged. “Could have more metal in it.”

“Why am I not surprised?” You asked sarcastically.

It was to be expected. Ghost was in her forties, so he was born in the early 70s. He was at least 6 years old when the heavy metal craze started in the UK, he practically grew up with the genre. Simon probably had posters of his favorite bands in his room and his mom would yell at him to turn down the music when he was listening to the stereo.

“Oh, this is a great song,” you said excitedly as you heard the beginning of Don’t You by Simple Minds.

You let the song play while humming the song and moving your shoulders to the beat. Ghost looked at you out of the corner of his eye as he enjoyed the song in his own way, in complete silence. Unlike him, you weren’t afraid to express your likes or opinions. If you wanted to do something, you just did it without having a nagging little voice in your head telling you it was a bad idea. Sometimes you envy being able to be free even though neither of you were locked up.

The song ended, and you continued to look through the repertoire. You were surprised to see the ballad When a Man Loves a Woman by Michael Bolton was in it, as it didn't seem to fit in with the rest of the songs. You were about to skip it when Ghost's voice stopped you.

“Leave it. I want to listen to it”.

“I never thought you'd like ballads,” you commented surprised.

“I don't like them,” he replied.

“If you don't like it, why do you want to listen…?”. Your eyes shot open in realization. “It reminds you of someone!”. You exclaimed in eureka.

“Well…”. Ghost scratched the back of his neck. It was lucky his balaclava covered his flushed face.

“A partner?”. You asked curiously.

Unlike Soap, who talks as if he was on a forever podcast, Ghost never did, much less about himself. Approved topics of conversation were discussions of hypothetical cases, the weather, or missions. That Ghost was about to reveal a memory like that was unlocking a piece of the mysterious puzzle to discover who is Simon Riley.

“No,” Ghost replied. “It’s the song I lost my virginity to.”

If the shelf hadn’t been there, you would have fallen flat on your back. You gaped at him as he looked at you weirdly as if you hadn’t just confessed that he lost his virginity to one of the most romantic ballads of 1991.

“What?” Ghost asked.

“Who would have thought? You’re such a romantic!” You scoffed.

“Not at all.” He snorted, looking away in embarrassment. “We were in the car…”

“You lost your virginity in a car?!” You exclaimed, to which Ghost quickly covered your mouth.

“Shut up, you’re going to wake everyone on the base with your screams,” Ghost whispered to you angrily. For a second you had forgotten that it was 4 in the morning.

“It must be a great story,” you whispered, still excited.

“You really want to know?” You nodded excitedly. “Fine, but you better not tell anyone,” he threatened you.

“My lips are sealed,” you closed your mouth with an imaginary zipper.

Ghost sighed, he couldn’t believe he was about to tell you one of his most precious memories. Even though that annoying little voice in his mind begged him not to, he wanted to do it. He trusted you.

“Prom was coming up. There was a girl, Melanie, but back then she was ‘Fat Melanie.’ She was bullied every day at school.”

In high school, Simon was a lone wolf who was always on the lookout for his surroundings. He knew everything. He knew who the popular ones were, the bullies, and the victims of the popularity pyramid. The only reason Simon wasn’t among the victims was because he was 6’1” tall at 18 years old. Add to that the fact that he always had an “I’m going to kill you” face on, even if he was just thinking about what he was going to eat that afternoon. Most of his classmates were so scared of him that they thought he was going to shoot up the school at some point. Luckily, this is the UK and not the US, Simon didn’t have a gun… yet.

Melanie was one of the most frequent victims he bumped into because her locker was in the same hallway as his. She was the one bullies picked on the most for having good grades and being fat, since this was the 90s and anti-bullying campaigns didn’t exist back then.

One day, a scream of excitement broke out in the hallway. Simon poked his head out of his locker to see the source of the loud sound. It was Melanie who had just received an anonymous love letter. Then he heard one of the bullies holding back his laughter, hiding behind a pillar like the fox from Dora the Explorer. Simon didn't need any more evidence to know that it was a practical joke.

Apparently, the love letter turned out to be a hateful essay on how the poor girl must kill herself to have loving parents who gave her double helpings of dessert after dinner. Melanie ended up in a sea of ​​her own tears while the bully mocked her in her face. Simon closed his locker to take a cigarette out of his pocket. He placed it on his lips and lit it in an attempt to remove himself from the situation. He was going to continue on his way, ignoring everything as always. It wasn't the first time he saw Melanie cry, he had more important things to worry about at the moment.

The other students watched the scene with some emotion at the absurd spectacle. A group of friends whispered that they felt sorry for her, which Simon thought was hypocritical. “Damn cowards…” That thought made him stop dead in his tracks. He was not a coward.

“Who would take an elephant like you to prom?” The bully mocked, cornering poor Melanie against her own locker.

The smile faded when Simon grabbed him by his leather jacket and slammed him hard against the lockers to get him out of his way. Melanie stopped crying confused at not understanding why a stranger was helping her, better yet, why a cute boy was helping her. Simon, despite his unfriendly face, was attractive in his own way. Unruly dirty blonde hair, chocolate eyes, sharp features and lips that she wanted to kiss because he was her hero. Simon took the cigarette out of his lips and blew the smoke out carelessly.

“Wanna go to prom with me, yes or no?” Simon asked her directly.

“Wait, wait… Is that how you asked her?” You asked, offended for Melanie, interrupting the story.

“Yeah, what’s wrong?”

“Ghost, I’ve seen you interrogate terrorists with more tact than that,” you explained.

“I was never good at that kind of thing, but whatever. She said yes.” He shrugged.

“Obviously she was going to accept. You were her consolation prize, even though she knew you were asking her out of pity.”

“I mean, she was pretty. Blonde, green eyes, a nice smile, she was just…”

“Fat?” You raised an offended eyebrow.

“Short. She barely reached my chest,” Ghost corrected.

“Oh.”

Simon didn’t plan on going to the prom, as he didn’t have money for it. So in less than a week he got the tickets by doing some odd jobs around the neighborhood, bought a black suit at a thrift store, borrowed a neighbor’s car in exchange for some handyman work, and stole some pink roses from a hotel garden.

After the neighbor gave him some advice on how to behave like a gentleman, Simon went to pick up Melanie at her house. Luckily, the roses matched her dress that looked like a cotton candy cloud. Her mother was impressed with the boy who asked her sweet daughter to prom. She forced them to pose for a picture while her father glared him.

Simon thought he would hate prom, but he had a good time. They took their yearbook photo, the band was good, and no one bothered them all night. Melanie was forcing him to dance, even to the slow songs as if they were dating. Since he had invited her, he had no choice but to please her. After all, it was only for one night.

It turns out that some idiot poured whiskey into the fruit punch without anyone noticing, so Simon and Melanie were waiting in the parking lot for the alcohol to go down so they could go back to their houses safely. The radio was on the love station (Melanie's choice). Ghost doesn't remember how it happened exactly, but one moment they were chatting and a second later, she already had her hand on his crotch.

Luckily, his kind neighbor had put condoms in the glove compartment in case this exact situation happened. Simon helped her into the backseat, so the magic could begin. They kissed like idiots because neither of them had ever done it before. They undressed as best they could in the square meter they were in. It was obvious what was going on because the car shook like a bouncy house, the windows were fogged up, and When a Man Loves a Woman was playing at full volume.

Simon drove Melanie home with her hair a mess, her elaborate dress placed wrong, and her lipstick ruined. Melanie kissed him on the cheek goodbye as soon as he opened the car door for her. She was about to get in her house when she shouted:

“This was the best night of my life!”

“I don’t know why that affected me so much. I stood there like an idiot watching her get in when I really wanted to tell her that it was also the best night of my life,” Ghost told you as soon as the song ended.

“Please tell me that you later became a couple, got married, had three children, and adopted a dog,” you begged him in the face of the adorable story.

“After graduation, I never saw her again.” You groaned at such a disappointing ending. “The last thing I heard from her is that she moved to London to study at university.”

“You never looked for her?” You asked, hopeful of a possible sequel.

“No. After high school I went to work at a butcher shop, and then I joined the army, so I lost contact with a lot of people.”

“How sad,” you murmured.

“Why is it sad?”

“Because it was obvious that you liked each other, and could have been a nice couple.”

“Sometimes there are people who are only destined to be a nice memory.” Ghost sighed.

“You're right.” You pressed your back against the shelf, careful that the earphone didn't come out of your ear. “Although I can't imagine you dancing to a slow song, I can't even imagine myself doing it.” 

“Have you never danced to a slow song?” Ghost asked you, surprised. You shook your head. “It's not that hard” He said before standing up.

“What are you doing?” You arched your eyebrow confused.

“I'll teach you” Ghost took your hands to help you up.

“Are you serious?” You asked, unable to believe it.

Ghost took the MP3 from you to play When a Man Loves a Woman again. He placed the earphone in your ear again so that both of you could listen to the song. One of his calloused hands pulled you by the waist to hold you close to his body, while the other wrapped around your hand. He ordered you to put your free hand on his shoulder and, like a good subordinate, you did.

“Now what?”.

“Just follow me,” Ghost whispered to you.

“Yes, sir,” you responded in the same way.

Ghost moved his feet from side to side, in a back and forth motion that went from his feet to his shoulders. You just followed his steps with a certain stiffness since this was your first time dancing so close to someone. He was right, it wasn't that hard when he was in control. The seductive sound of the guitar and the relaxed rhythm of the drums made you melt into your partner's body. You rested your head on his chest. One ear listened to the music and the other, the addictive rhythm of his heart inside his strong chest.

Ghost smiled at the warmth of your body. He placed his chin on your head as you slowly turned around the small place you shared in the world. He closed his eyes for a second to pretend you were in an elegant living room with a giant chandelier lighting your steps when in reality you were in a storage with a bare wire spotlight. Nothing mattered beyond the fact that Ghost enjoyed having someone to protect in his arms.

The MP3 player died in the middle of the ballad. With no music playing in the background anymore, you pulled away from each other. His hand longed for your touch as soon as you moved your hand away. You stretched your arms with a yawn, you were already sleepy after snuggling into his chest.

“I think I’ll go to sleep now,” you whispered.

“I’ll finish here,” Ghost offered.

You said goodnight to each other and left the storage to return to your bunk bed. Ghost took out his earphone, wrapped the cord around the MP3 and put it in his pocket. It had been a good night. He didn't hurt himself, he danced with a cute girl and found his old MP3 player.

Masterlist.

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[whatever-imagines]

“Princess”

Fem! Butch! Wolverine x fem! Reader

Tags: No use of y/n; some mention of Origins, Scott and reader are low key besties; repressed EVERYONE; drinking; lemme know what I missed; the fan art and everything has got me.

Did you know Logan can be a girls name? That’s why it’s unchanged.

Rated: T

——————

“Watch it, bub.” Was the first thing she ever said to you; growled out and annoyed, wearing clothes that weren’t hers, barefoot stomping through the halls of the mansion to follow Professor Xavier to the infirmary.

You were just in the way. The stranger was already irritated by the looks of things and you were too dumbstruck on how handsome you thought she looked to get out of the way in enough time. The proximity, the raspiness of her voice, it made your breath hitched and you stared unblinkingly at her retreating form and you knew; you were fucked.

You were told by a calm Scott that her name was Logan. He had put a comforting hand on your shoulder, mistaking your sudden infatuation for fear or discomfort. Scott tells you they found her after a fight with another mutant the team had been hunting down and found her, rapidly healing and unconscious next to the corpse of the dangerous mutant they were looking for. So they brought her to the mansion, to study her and ask questions.

You hear about the fights Logan has with Scott all the time, and how she always flirts with Jean and Ororo, you see her wander the halls in the school portion of the mansion, and you always give her a wide berth. Half because, in a sense, she does intimidate you; she has a powerful mutation and fierce attitude, she could easily destroy you in any kind of fight. And the other reason you avoid her is-

“Jesus, watch it, squirt!”

“I’m so sorry!” You breath out, leaning down to gather the papers that went flying after you literally ran into Logan. They were mission reports that Scott’s been demanding to see, and in your haste to bring them to the team leader, you ran into the school’s resident loner.

You steadfastly refuse to make eye contact, focusing solely on picking up the papers that were spilled. You could feel the intense brown eyes of the other woman bearing down at you, but still you refuse to look up as you sputter apologies. you felt like you could cry from how embarrassed you were but you kept a stiff upper lip.

This is why you avoid her. For this exact reason.

You don’t have an impressive mutation, a very mild healing one that only extends to saving cuts and scraps; and you spent most of that time with your mutation healing yourself because you were so clumsy. What an embarrassment to your kind, you often think. Compared to Logan, you have no real use to the team; you don’t even go out to fight, you just help organize the paperwork and manage the little things so everyone can focus on keeping others safe and bettering themselves. You’re not nearly as impressive as the woman before you.

Once most of the papers are collected, a pair of brown cowboy boots enter your field of vision, and the clearing of a throat makes you slowly raise your gaze up to Logan, the fearsome Wolverine.

At this angle, she looked gorgeous, and curious.

“I’ve seen you around.” She drawls lazily, whatever bite she had earlier gone. “You’re Scott’s secretary.”

You wince in slight annoyance. “I’m the team’s assistant. I just-“ you gesture to the papers around you. “I handle the boring stuff. Help out when I’m needed.” Grabbing the last paper you awkwardly stand up. “Heal scraped knees and alike.”

Her large hand shoots out and grabs your shoulder to steady your wobbling self. Her hand was burning hot, and you could almost feel the callouses from years of fighting and doing god knows what through the cardigan you wore. You swore you felt your stomach literally flip at the contact.

She gave you a weird look, like she couldn’t believe you were this helpless. You quickly schooled your flustered expression and made some excuse up, how Scott would be more annoying if you put off giving him these papers any longer, and you scuttle down the hall, regretfully leaving the warm hand of Logan behind.

Scott also gave you a questioning look when you slammed the door to his room shut after all but running to where he was.

“… you okay, pal?” He asked, half bemused but you could tell by his tone he was ready to be serious if needed.

You sigh, and throw the paper files at him. He caught them easily. “I’m fine I’m just-“ you sigh again. “I’m just a mess.”

—-

The third time Logan speaks to you, it’s when you’re sneaking back into the mansion after a lukewarm date. It’s not like it was a secret, but still the only people you told were the Professor, so you could get permission to leave, and Ororo, who helped you get ready while you panicked.

You quietly meander into the kitchen, just to grab a soda in the dark, when the light suddenly gets flicked on.

“You look nice.” A raspy drawl says, surprising you so bad you slam the fridge door shut.

Your head snaps to the source of the sound, and there you see Logan, face half obscured in shadows.

“Oh!” You gasp. “Thank you…” you tamper off, half ready to explain yourself but deciding it better to keep your trap shut.

The Wolverine’s head cocks sideways before speaking again. “Any particular reason for the get up?” It felt more like a question in an interrogation.

You swallow thickly, suddenly feeling very self conscious. “I had a date.”

Finally pushing herself from the wall, Logan makes her way to where you stand. “Oh?” she inquires. there’s something in her eyes that make your stomach swoop but you couldn’t put a name to it. It almost looks like jealousy, but that wouldn’t make any sense in this situation. She just must be angry you got to leave the mansion and she’s still on probation. “Have fun with him?”

Him.

The insulation leaves a bitter taste in your mouth.

“She was quite boring actually.” You gently correct, pulling the tab off your soda can to open it. “An accountant or something. Kept telling me all the formulas she knew.” You mumble, bringing the drink to your lips and ignoring the way Logan’s eye bore into you.

“… don’t like the studious type?” She asks, tone playful but in the edge of something.

You’re sure to stew on your answer for a second, for whatever reason it feels like you should reply carefully. “I like reliable but not dull, if that makes sense.”

She digest your words, her eyes still staring, and you still ignoring the stare.

“You don’t look at me a lot.” Her sentence was quick and only added tension to the air. “Everyone stares-“ a hand grasps your shoulder and forces you to face her; her brown eyes leering at you, dry lips pressed into a thin line, the width of her nose scrunching slightly in irritation- “… except you.”

There’s a beat of silence. You can hear the fridge thrum with electricity, your heart thrum with anxiety.

“… it’s rude to stare.” Is all you can offer.

Logan snorts, amused or angry you don’t know, but her hot hand lets go of your shoulder and she heavily steps away.

“Smart-ass.” She chuckles, and disappears back into the shadow, the should have the keys she wears on her belt jingling away with her departure.

You breathe out slowly to calm your nerves, and sip your soda.

—-

It’s a party; a celebration of surviving another year at the school. Your anniversary. Scott makes it a big deal for you every year, as it’s his anniversary too, you and a handful of others.

“Xavier’s First Class Alumni” the banner proudly proclaims. You smile wistfully at it, happy to be where you are now but pushing the memory of how you got here out of your mind.

The cages, endless rows of cages. Scientists and doctors constantly doing rounds and taking samples like you were a computer giving off results instead of a person made of flesh and blood. There was a fight outside, something tremulous, but you had passed out from blood loss easily in the first few minutes of the commotion. You awoke to Scott cradling you as carrying you onto some extraordinary aircraft where a bald man awaited with a patient smile.

Scott was blinded by an impressive mask for safety then, not even he could tell you what had happened. Only a few who went on the ship stay with the professor, at the school. Many went back home to their families; but you stayed. And nobody could really recall how exactly they were all freed from Three Mile Island.

You’re leaning against a wall in the basement as the streamers hand low in the pulsing light of the party, deep bass music playing loudly enough to drown out most thought but not wake the children upstairs. You look to your left to see Scott and Jean laughing merrily with Kurt and Ororo and you smile.

The scent of musk fills your senses. You’re warm, incredibly warm, and the pressure of another weight against your right side. You quickly look to see Wolverine staring down at you, a beer bottle in her hand resting against her leg and the other arm propping herself over you against the wall.

“Enjoying the party?” She rasps, the bottle coming to her lips for a swig.

You watch carefully as the amber liquid passes into her mouth and she swallows, and you lick your bottom lip without realizing it.

She watches it though.

“It’s a fun thing for everyone.” You settle on saying.

She scoffs. “So you were one of the originals? Chuck’s first students?”

You shrug. “It was infinitely better than where I was.” Her bushy eyebrow quirked up in interest but you soldier on. “I’m very grateful to Professor Xavier for all he’s done to keep us safe.”

She rolls her eyes, a touch of a wild smile teases the corner of her mouth; Logan seems to be in an arguing mood and couldn’t get to Scott, so she settled on you.

“Safe, sure. Cooped up and all.” She bemoans.

And for the first time since you’ve encountered Logan, you’re… irritated with her. You pout and cross your arms, not unlike a child.

“Xavier’s done endless things to make everything better for us here.” You argue.

Your sudden passion seems to intrigue Logan. She straightens up more, once again reminding you of how small you exactly are compared to her. “How so, princess?” She growls out.

The tone was sardonic but you filed the nick name away to fantasize about later.

“Well, no one’s gabbed a needle into me without my consent since I got here 15 years ago, so that’s one thing.” You spit out, annoyed.

Logan’s face contorts ever so slightly, suddenly closed off but still watching you raptly.

“I haven’t had to hear direct death threats from everyone around me; I get to see future generations of mutats learn and grow-“ you gasp to continue your rant. “and be raised in a safe enviro-“

“Sorry.”

The singular word was delivered almost bashfully, if Logan could do anything bashful. She still staring down at you, hand in her pocket, next to her keys. The beer bottle taps her thigh absently.

No one was watching you, everyone wrapped up in their own bubbles and conversations. You vaguely hear the limbo song start playing.

You uncross your arms and tuck your chin down. “I’m sorry.” You usher out quickly.

“Don’t-“

“I got heated and I’m sorry.” You reiterate, a little more purpose behind your words.

Logan keeps staring at you, waiting. And your mouth just keeps moving.

“Everyone sees this day as a great day because the Professor found us, but to me it’s always gonna mark the day the experiments stopped. It means that something awful happened to me and it ended but it still happened and…” you trail off, one arm crossing your body to curl into yourself.

“… I know something about being experimented on.” Logan gravely states. “I’m sorry for pissing you off.” She amends.

You look up at her again, and nod. “Thanks.” You timidly respond.

She nods back.

Scott calls to you and you turn to look at him. He gestures for you to come over, and when you look back at Logan to say goodbye, she was already gone.

—-

Logan was gone for about a week after that. When she came back, everyone acted like she never left at all.

You still give her room; she’s complained before about the others “suffocating” her. But now she enters your space.

She sits as close to you as she can turn team meeting while you take the notes. She’s always in the halls you frequently use as short cuts. She always has to talk to Xavier right after you and you constantly bump into her as you leave his office.

And she always says the same thing.

“Hey, princess.”

It almost makes you crumble sometimes. But you straighten yourself out mentally and greet her back politely, and quickly rush away in fear you might make a fool of yourself again.

It eventually comes to head at some point. You mention to Ororo that you might try dating again. Maybe sign up for an online dating service if you could find a queer friendly one on the deep web. Sometime later that same day you get cornered by Wolverine.

She had just came back from a bike ride; hair wild and leather jacket over jean jacket over a men’s blue button down shirt over wife beater. Jeans still wet from the snow outside along the bottom, boot a darker color than normal.

“Lemme buy you a drink.” She says, so seriously and quickly you almost misunderstood her.

The proximity of her throws you off, you’re in some corridor not far from the garage. “I’m sorry?”

“Let. Me. Buy. You. A. Drink.” She reiterates, enunciating each word clearly enough you could identify the trace amount of her northern accent. Her arm glides up and once again she leans over you, her shadow casted on your form.

“… why?”

Her other hand comes up to your face and, with a gentleness you would not associate with the Wolverine, carefully holds your cheek in her palm, thumb on your bottom lip.

“I like your face. Lemme buy you a drink.” She asks again.

Your stomach swoops again, your ears burns with affection and you’re biting your cheek so hard as not to squeak in victory you taste copper in your mouth.

“Okay.”

She sags minutely, as if in relief.

“Thanks, princess.”

[roguishcat]

A welcome distraction

Summary: Astarion was not nice. Nothing about him was even remotely nice. Such a bland, plain word that carried little to no meaning. But perhaps, given the right incentive, he could be persuaded to be nice to the one person who he felt deserved it most.

Tags: Fluff, tooth-rotting fluff

Pairing: Astarion x female Tav

One-shot, 2.3k words

Set in the beggining of Act II.

Astarion stretched out languidly on Tav’s bedroll, watching her as she looked through their magic trinkets to decide which ones they could do without. Ever since Gale came to her, confessing everything, telling her of his folly, Tav has taken extra care to set aside an item or two that the wizard could consume.

Now, if this was done out of sense of self-preservation, that would be completely understandable. It would be quite unfortunate for that orb in his chest to get so volatile it would just explode at random. Such a waste that would be. The world would lose its most beautiful creature! And just as he was starting to enjoy his freedom! And he supposed the wizard had his uses too.

Astarion blinked slowly and sighed. As nice as it was to have no one try to murder them for a change, he was getting bored. And his favourite source of entertainment seemed to have no time on her hands for him.

And that just wouldn’t do.

He moved closer to Tav and lifted his hand to rest on her head, running his fingers through her hair and then lower down to caress the exposed skin of her neck. Astarion knew that he was distracting her, that was the whole point of the gentle, feather-light touches that made goosebumps rise on her exposed arms. And when that garnered no reaction, Astarion lifted himself up to press his chest against her back, snaking his arms around her middle.

“Darling,” he said smoothly, kissing her shoulder, making a move to lift her shirt enough with insistent hands to expose skin and trace slow patterns just above her hipbones, “don’t you think it’s time for a break?”

“As nice as that sounds, I still have to go through all the scrolls and potions.”

“Nice? I can’t promise anything that uninspired,” he scoffed. Nothing about him was even remotely nice. Such a bland, plain word that carried little to no meaning.

“Something wicked, however,” he drawled, his lips almost touching Tav’s ear “that I could definitely provide.”

“Well, as delicious as that sounds, I’m not moving until I get this done. But perhaps you could help?”

“Tsk, you are no fun,” he pouted, lifting a necklace with the tip of his finger. “What’s this one supposed to do?”

“Let me just check… Misty Step.”

“Keeping it,” he would have squirreled it away earlier, but a part of him felt a sick sort of dread at taking something without waiting for permission first. It was almost like a reflex more than anything. Not to take without permission, lest he be punished.

“If you want,” Tav shrugged with a smile. “Put it into your pile, it’s that one.”

Astarion inwardly preened when he noted it was one of the bigger piles. He spied a bow and two rings perched on top of a set of armour. He supposed getting nice new things was worth an hour of boredom.

It was still a novel concept. Having things of his own. Being given what he needed or simply wanted with no strings attached. And it wasn’t just him that got such treatment. Tav tried her best to make sure that everyone was taken care of to the best of her ability.

Astarion would probably never admit it unless faced with decapitation, but Tav has really started to grow on him. The pleasant manner in which she carried herself, the ferocious way in which she fought, the unwavering loyalty to those she considered friends.

That was yet another novel concept, having friends.

 “Darling, I can’t help but notice that you didn’t choose anything for yourself.”

“I don’t need anything right now.”

That was a lie. Her armour breathed its last when they went up against the goblins to protect the Grove. She could definitely use a new pair of boots too.

“As sweet as you are for thinking of others before yourself, I would rather you not become a pincushion next time we are ambushed. Here,” he picked a set of armour at random, “take this.”

“And Shadowheart will have to do without, I suppose?” she raised an eyebrow.

“She’s a cleric. She can heal herself,” Astarion gave a nonchalant shrug. He didn’t care much about what happened to Shadowheart.

Tav laughed, making something warm and pleasant bloom in his chest. He hated how much he enjoyed hearing her laugh.

“Well, this armour is a bit too heavy for me anyway,” she put the armour back and added a couple of scrolls that Shadowheart could make use of. “Maybe I will pick something up next time we need to sell stuff.”

She was right. They did amass quite a collection of useless nick knacks when they looted the abandoned houses in the Blighted Village. And lugging all the bits and bobs that Tav insisted on taking with them was getting rather tedious. Not that he carried much personally. However, he imagined if Lae’zel caught onto him having the lightest load, the gith would personally make sure that his pack would be stuffed to capacity.

Except when they went to sell the items, she once again did not buy anything for herself. Astarion could not understand her ridiculous altruism! Not that he cared that much, but still. Tav dying would most definitely throw a wrench in his plans. Therefore, with that in mind only, he bought Tav new armour, bow and boots.

Strange. The first time he spent money in years, and it wasn’t even on buying something for himself!

The next day, Tav woke up to find that someone had been to her tent. And that mysterious someone left her gifts. Brows furrowing, she picked up a pair of boots. They were clearly enchanted and probably not something they could afford at the moment. And that begged the question, who would splurge so much and not even give it to her personally?

She admired the armour and ran her fingers over the leather. As she shifted it slightly sideways to have a better look at the clasps, something sparkled in a stray ray of light that got in through the slight opening in the tent flap.

Tav noticed the necklace perched on top of the pile.

“Misty Step,” she murmured, a small smile tugging on her lips as her fingers ghosted over the rest of the gifts.

Changing and making herself somewhat presentable, she walked out of her tent and towards Astarion’s, greeting Gale as he prepared their breakfast. To their delight, the group recently stumbled upon a cellar filled with boxes upon boxes of food. Gale was especially pleased at having the opportunity to prepare proper meals for a change rather than have two or three odd ingredients to work with.

When Tav opened the flap of Astarion’s tent and walked in, the elf was already up and apparently deeply engrossed in his book, not even bothering to look up to greet her. Tav waited a beat, but Astarion pointedly refused to acknowledge her. Which Tav knew he had to be doing on purpose, because there was no way that he couldn’t hear her breathing and the staccato of her heartbeat as she grew more nervous by the minute.

Crouching by him, she put her hand on top of the page.

“Darling, as much as I enjoy your presence in my tent, you are distracting me from my reading.”

“I see. Good book?”

“It is. Absolutely riveting.”

She decided not to comment on the fact that he had already read this book twice, as they didn’t come across any new reading material that was of interest to Astarion.

“Help me put this on?” she smiled and handed him the necklace, holding her hair up and leaving her neck exposed, making Astarion’s mouth water.

“Tsk, can’t manage without me, darling?” he teased, but put his book aside.

“I can. But I’d much rather you did it.”

Gently, he slid the jewellery in its place, letting his fingers linger on her skin a touch longer than necessary and making Tav sigh contently.

“Thank you,” she pecked his cheek. “Thank you for looking after me.”

“I don’t know what you are talking about. But perhaps come nightfall,” he leaned closer and all but purred, “I could look after you in a-”

“Astarion,” Tav put her fingers on his lips, “thank you.”

“Oh, please! You thought it was me? Darling! Giving you a necklace? Out of all mundane, unimaginative things to gift!”

Astarion inwardly kicked himself. What was he thinking, trading her smile for a blunt comment like that? It wasn’t the way he usually operated. It was counterintuitive, it was stupid. He was supposed to be furthering her attraction to him, so what in the hells was he doing by telling her that the gifts came from another?

“Mmhh, of course it couldn’t have been you,” Tav agreed easily, laying a tender kiss on the underside of his jaw and then another just below his ear, “so sorry for the misunderstanding.”

“I -I argh,” he shuddered as blunt teeth nibbled on his earlobe, “apology accepted.”

“So… who do you propose I should thank then?” Tav breathed against his cheek and then looked him in the eyes.

“Excuse me?” Astarion frowned as she moved away.

“Well, if it wasn’t you that left the armour, the necklace-

“And boots!” he interjected quickly.

“Ah yes, thank you for reminding me,” she nodded, running her hands down his arms to take his cool hands into her own. “Who should I be thanking instead of you, hm?”

“I know! It was probably Shadowheart,” she said with an air of someone having an eureka moment.

“Shadowheart?!”

“No, it couldn’t have been her,” she mused, letting go of his hand to tap a finger on her lips as she pretended to think hard. “Shadowheart didn’t come with us to the vendor. Must be Wyll then, he did comment on my boots being worse for wear.”

“Wyll just spent half the journey flirting with Lae’zel!” Astarion spat with distaste, sounding rather like a scandalised virgin gossiping about a debutante with a questionable reputation.

“True, true. Well, that leaves Gale. Unless it was the only other person who came with me yesterday…”

Astarion swallowed and pouted but didn’t say anything.

“How silly of me to assume it was you. I’ll let you get back to your reading. Off I go to give Gale a proper thank you.”

Tav rose and let go of his hand, making Astarion panic a little. Like hells Gale would be the one getting recognition for the nice thing that he did!

Rising quickly, Astarion grabbed Tav’s waist. She squealed when he spun her round roughly, pressing her body to his.

“You are not going anywhere, you cheeky pup,” he whispered against her neck, his cool breath making Tav shiver involuntarily and grasp onto his shirt.

“And since you insist on thanking me, I will graciously accept your gratitude.”

He was a benevolent creature, after all. And since Tav was in the mood to shower him with affection, he supposed he could allow it.

“Thank you,” she kissed his cheek.

“Thank you,” his forehead, just under an errant curl that fell over his eyes as he tilted his head forward.

“Thank you,” she pressed her lips to his, making Astarion groan as he deepened the kiss, one hand steadying Tav whilst the other travelled lower. He nibbled on her swollen, pouty lower lip, enjoying the delicious mewling sound she made and then-

“Breakfast is ready!” Gale’s voice rang jarringly loud from somewhere outside the tent, startling Tav. She withdrew with a sigh, looking more than a little disappointed at having to leave. Ever the dutiful leader, ready to start her day and selflessly brush aside her own wants and needs.

Astarion was having none of that.

“Where do you think you are going, hm?”

“Um, well..” Tav began, but found herself to be quite mesmerised with the heated, predatory look he was giving her.

“I haven’t had my breakfast yet, and I am feeling simply ravenous.”

He pulled the collar of her shirt aside, admiring the way the necklace rested against her skin and then his eyes travelled lower down still as Astarion mused about whether he was being too traditional by drinking from her neck when there were such tantalising, mouthwatering choices to be made.

“May I?” he murmured, trailing his nose against her collarbone, then lower and lower still, brushing against the necklace that rose and fell with her breaths. Astarion felt Tav’s fingers gently thread through his curls, skimming along his ears in a way that had him suppressing a moan.

“Yes.”

She always said yes. And recently rather than thinking her a fool for it, Astarion felt… something else. He couldn’t explain what it was that he felt even if he tried. But Tav was becoming more than a means to an end. More than a target. More than a night that was better to forget.

Weeks later, he would find that she was the light that illuminated the darkest recesses of his mind and soul. The warmth that welcomed and comforted him, preventing him from retreating into himself when he was hit with the horror of what he had done in his years of slavery. She would come to be the only person that he truly cared about. But he didn’t know that yet.

As he drank, Astarion decided that perhaps he would allow himself to enjoy whatever this was. Not overthink it. For now, he would let himself linger on the precipice of making the discovery of what exactly Tav was to him without worrying of what would happen once he fell.

For now, he would let himself enjoy not having to worry about what tomorrow would bring. For now, she would be his most welcome distraction.

💖 Tag list 💖:

@ninty900, @ayselluna, @dajeong, @ravenswritingroom,

@misscrissfemmefatale, @clazberryk, @anukulee, @preciouslittlebhaalbae,

@sh3rl0ck, @mellowenthusiast2299, @fleetstreet78,

@starlight-rogue,

@obsessedwhyyes, @arzen9

[nexadarling]

Trigun Explicit Recs!

So it turns out there are too many good fics in this fandom and I maxed out the amount of links allowed in a single post (it's 100 btw) so I decided to split the E rated stuff from everything else, cause it makes sense to me.

I offer you my list of smut, organized by wordcount! Most of which will also give you so many emotions cause what is Vashwood with out self-loathing and biblical references. This is a living document and I update it regularly, so come check back for more recs!!

I tried to tag all the authors who have tumblrs, but if I missed someone pls tag them/let me know!

Any fic that features "+" after the word count is on-going/uncompleted, and they are all listed at the end. As they finish, I will add the final word count and place them accordingly.

Check the tags yall!!!

a softer world by Harubo ( @helloharubo) - 2k; Vashwood; E; Modern AU; Painter Vash; Doctor Wolfwood; Reincarnation vibes; Wolfwood has regular dreams of Vash where he's covered in scars and full of a deep, aching sadness. When he wakes up, he needs his husband to reassure him he's still in one piece

not dying, then by amaiyo - 2k; Vashwood; E; Tristamp (I think? iirc); Plant Heat; Vash goes into heat and Wolfwood does his best to help, but man is he kinda lost; this is so fucking good, Vash is such a mess, and honestly so is Wolfwood but he's just trying to keep up, poor guy

Ask Without Speaking by ChenamaReel - 2k; Vashwood; E; Trimax; Wolfwood comes to Vash's room to wake him from a nightmare, and stays. Halfway through the night they both wake up to a very compromising position; Listen I've read this an embarrassing amount of times, the feelings packed into this tiny fic are amazing and it's really hot okay????

la petite mort by @babeyxiao-art and expertfool - 3k; Vashwood; E; Trimax; Vash and Wolfwood get drunk and argue in an alley. A threat turns into… something much different; this did something to my brain chemistry for sure, I fully blame it for my newly found gun kink

My Body's Moving Into Retrograde by Sacramental_Wine - 3k; Vashwood; E; Wolfwood makes Vash want something for himself for once

you'll leave me lonely at best by @procrastinating-bookworm - 3k; Vashwood; E; Post-Badlands Rumble; You know the fucking drill, it's time for some widow Wolfwood reunion sex; God I love the way this fandom explores the hell Wolfwood went through before Vash pops back up like "Jk guys, I'm not dead!"

Heat Waves by @revenantpoet - 3k; Vashwood; E; Tristamp; Vash is having more regular plant heats because of Wolfwood. Wolfwood helps him out (in the car lol) and tries really hard not to think about the fact that he triggers such a reaction from Vash; I like my smut with a side of angst and Vashwood brand repression! This is that exactly, and it's really fucking hot. Blowing so many loving kisses at Rev for this

when your stitch comes loose by @starkillling - 4k; Vashwood; E; Vashwood's relationship with Vash's wings

Your Beauty Never, Ever Scared Me by Sacramental_Wine - 5k; Vashwood; E; Wolf shifter Wolfwood (if you've ever seen Wolf's Rain it's like that); Vash helps an injured wolf, the next morning a man shows up at his door; no cause this is so cute Vash is so baffled at first by Wolfwood’s appearance I love them so much???

Strange Powers by @tenshinokorin - 5k; Vashwood; E; they accidentally get high and fuck about it; I laughed my ass off reading this, pls, it's so good

when I picture you by @pinklicour - 5k; Vashwood; E; Modern AU - College; This is just a silly little fic about Vashwood hooking up, but Wolfwood's pining is so precious and I've reread the scene where they actually become a couple several times cause it makes me so happy; Mack always keeps me so well feed with all the cutesy vw concepts

Little Pieces of the Nothing that Fall by starkstateofmind - 5k; Vashwood; E; Tristamp; it rains and Vash manic pixie dream girls himself into bed with Wolfwood; i kinda stared at a wall for a little after reading this, it's really beautiful and I might also be a manic pixie dream girl

Sing Pretty Melodies on the Motel Bed by @amphetamine-keen - 5k; Vashwood; E; Trimax vibes; Wolfwood convinces Vash to try a vaginal plug; this is just smut but I did read it at least twice. idk what that says about me, but it does say that it's a good fic. And that I have a new toy I need to buy– ANYWAY

fire, nicotine, and iron by quietfaun - 5k; Vashwood; E; Modern AU; Dirtbag Wolfwood, cause it's a weakness I have; Vash gets Wolfwood shot and feels really bad about it. After all, he was really just picking up a stranger for a good night, he wasn't looking to get pulled into Vash's world; Wolfwood is so fucking nasty in this and I am exactly as into it as Vash is, lord help me

Sing, Sweet Salvation by Bohemienne - 5k; Vashwood; E; Trimax/98; Vash ignores his feelings for Wolfwood just a little too long, and his body decides to Do Something about it. It gets... monster-y; You I'm a sucker for some creature Vash and some monsterfuckery!! Hell yeah

Nothing but Neon by just_a_lil_shipmate - 5k; Vashwood, E; Trimax/98; Vash and Wolfwood go to bed like normal--totally normal, nothing wrong with sharing a bed with your friend no matter how much Vash wants it to be more. Vash wakes up with Wolfwood hard against him and maybe gets a little carried away; I fully blame this fic for me liking somno, but it just manages to be the right amount of soft and hot

what you need by amaiyo - 6k; Vashwood; E; sequel to Not Dying, Then; Vash wants to make up for falling asleep after Wolfwood helped him the first time with his heat; Bottom Wolfwood supremacy!! Man gets his shit wrecked, physically and emotionally

disarm you with a smile by gloriousporpoise - 6k; Vashwood; E; Canon-verse; Friends With Benefits; 5+1; It gets harder and harder for Wolfwood not to kiss Vash; You will--and I mean you will--spend this entire fic chanting 'kiss him! kiss him! kiss him!' and be disappointed when he doesn't despite knowing it doesn't happen until the clearly labelled +1 scene

welcome to the beautiful place by @pinklicour - 7k; Vashwood; E; Vash watches Wolfwood interact with a kid for too long and has Feelings about it, turns out Wolfwood feels the same; biting them, shaking them like dog toys, let them have a family goddammit

Nothing Left to Hide by GGumdrops - 7k; Vashwood; E; Wing fic wing fic wing fic; Vash is clearly uncomfortable but doesn't want to tell Wolfwood why. When he finally convinces Vash to show him, he preens his wings for him

in other words by riverenne - 7k; Vashwood; E; Tristamp; Triple-amputee Vash; Unsurprisingly, Vash and Wolfwood are running, and Wolfwood learns a lot about the whirlwind that is Vash; listeeeennnn they're so desperate for each other

when you've laid your hands upon me by amaiyo - 7k; Vashwood; E; Vash gets feverish and delirious, and Wolfwood wants so badly to help. It's not until he's really out of it that Vash realizes what's happening: a heat that can only be triggered by intense emotion linked to an individual; Vash loves Wolfwood so much it sends him into heat and he's so worried about driving Wolfwood off but he needs him so bad

you tear down my reason by halfdemonvash - 8k; Vashwood; E; .... trimaxVashwood/stampedeVashwood; yeah it's selfcest, i'm not sorry about it, it's so fucking good

Bind Your Faith in Scars and Tape by just_a_lil_shipmate - 8k; Vashwood; E; Modern AU - College; Vash pines after Wolfwood, and then properly falls for him when they're forced to spend time in the university greenhouse regularly; Meryl is my favorite

perfect world by outdoorcats - 8k; Vashwood; E; sequel to Water Supply; less drunk but more (beautifully) emotional; "What if we ran away and got married" vibes

bad moon rising by crocodile - 8k; Vashwood; E; Urban Fantasy AU; Vampire Vash; Werewolf Wolfwood; Hunter Wolfwood; T4T; The author describes this as slice of life between vampire and vampire hunter and like yeah that's exactly what this is and it fucks

water supply by outdoorcats - 9k; Vashwood; E; they get wine drunk and get like emotionally horny; this is so fucking beautiful they’re so in love I hate it here

Holding My Breath by @nekotachis - 9k; Vashwood; E; Canon-verse; Vash tells Wolfwood he's never been on a date, so Wolfwood takes him on one. Feelings are definitely not had during said date

the perfectest herald of joy by riverenne - 9k; Vashwood; E; Tristamp; Vash has a lot of self-soothing habits that drive Wolfwood absolutely insane; I am so unwell about how River writes Wolfwood for real

Dark evil ocean, I’m craving more by Albedothighs - 9k; Vashwood; E; Modern AU - Mer; OrcaWood; Human Vash; Vash and Wolfwood work together so Vash can temporarily be a mer, that way they can be together when storms would otherwise keep them apart. Of course, instead they have a lot of fun exploring Vash's new body together

Trial and error by Anonymous - 10k; Vashwood; E; Vash has freaky plant parts and is pretty sure he can't orgasm, but he's happy to be with Wolfwood however he wants! Wolfwood is determined to prove Vash wrong; Literally cannot get enough of unconventional, incompatible plant stuff for Vash, so this was very fun

like the holding of hands (like the breaking of glass) by @flowercitti - 10k; Vashwood; E;  Tristamp; Vash wakes up after the sandsteamer and faces Wolfwood's full knowledge of his inhumanness; (spoilers WW still thinks Vash is beautiful)

Where The Delicate Stops (Show Me) by @nexadarling - 10k; Vashwood; E; Trimax; Creature Vash; Predator/Prey; Wolfwood sets off Vash's competitive nature and gets chased through the woods. He likes it more than expected; shameless self-plug, I'm just real proud of this one

corsetry, couture, and how (not) to court your coworker by Umbr_el_on - 10k; Vashwood; E; Modern AU - Fashion; Fashion Designer Wolfwood; Model Vash; Wolfwood chooses Vash to debut his new creation, and he really does try so very hard to be professional about it; oooohh boy what a way for Vash to realize he has a huge thing for breathplay, damn

geoplant medicinals by @avoidingavoidance - 11k; Vashwood; E; Tristamp; Wolfwood accidentally gets soooo fucking high. Vash joins him and they have some frankly awesome sex; Wolfwood spends this whole fic being sickeningly in love with his boyfriend and thinking about how pretty Vash is and I love it

the sun is warm (i miss your smile) by mor (mornin) ( @bakubaji) - 12k; Vashwood; E; Vamp Vash/Vamp Hunter Wolfwood; Modern AU

with the same sweet shock of when Adam first came by feelingfoxylmao - 12k; Vashwood; E; Modern AU - BDSM Scene; Wolfwood fucks up at the BDSM club and Vash (consensually and pre-scripted) teaches him his lesson; Dom Vash, Sub Wolfwood; Vash makes Wolfwood bark, what more could I possibly say to make you want to read this??? It's wonderful; slight secondhand embarrassment warning for the beginning where Wolfwood fucks up, but it's worth getting through, trust me

take my breaking heart (and tear it all apart) by johnnyfucksup - 12k; Vashwood; E; Wolfwood tries not to let himself want. Enter Vash, who ruins those plans

Late Night Confessional by ValiantRose ( @sleepyartcryptid) - 12k; Vashwood; E; Modern AU I think?; Trans Wolfwood; Priest Wolfwood; Vash comes to confess his sins... he technically commits more instead, but who’s counting?

and our walls fall like jericho by thechaoscryptid - 12k; Vashwood; E; Canon-verse; Wolfwood doesn't want. He doesn't. He doesn't. (He does); Every time Wolfwood tries so hard and fails at keeping down his affection for Vash I lose my goddamn mind

Like Eden by @RevenantPoet - 12k; Vashwood; E; Tristamp; Vash takes Wolfwood to the bio-dome on Ship 3, and they open up to each other a little more than he was expecting; Rev's poetry is so nice and the way they handle the intimacy between these two melts my brain a little. Both the sexual and emotional

Within Us An Orchard by plumtoad - 13k; Vashwood; E; Vash is a sad plant boi, so Wolfwood cheers him up feat. fruit

to control against the pull by catchatter ( @needlab7) - 13k; Vashwood; E; A/B/O; "Wolfwood tries to help out the bro and gets consumed with The Longing"; It is my personal mission to make everyone read this. Please, even if you don't like omegaverse just give it a chance I am begging you

I know I'm gonna die of this by @orcelito - 13k; Vashwood; E; T4T; Vash doesn't like to be touched during sex. He does, however, desperately want to fuck Wolfwood. Wolfwood shows him exactly how much he appreciates it; THE Strap Fic; the fact that this is part of a series based on Nothing But Thieves' song Impossible has me incredibly fucked up; Nico, darling, thank you for writing this, it was delightful

Give Me Mercy No More. by hollyleighannee ( @wytchsbrew) - 14k; Vashwood; E; Modern AU; Bodyguard Wolfwood; During a sandstorm, Vash spends a special night with his secret boyfriend; OH MAN OH GOD WOW; first of all this Wolfwood... I gotta go sit down for a second, damn; the sex is hot, but the emotions are hotter, Wolfwood is so careful to give Vash everything he wants and cares so much, they are both so in love; Holly your fics give me so much joy, I'm so sorry for decimating your notifications

sunshower by crocodile - 14k; Vashwood; E; Reincarnation AU; Friends With Benefits; Age Gap; 500 years later, Vash finds Wolfwood... kind of; look this is so good Vash has so many feelings, but Wolfwood is his own person, but he's also definitely Wolfwood and everything is different but nothing really is and aaaaaaahhhh

resurrection men by spicecandy - 14k; Vashwood; E; Reincarnation AU; Post-Trimax; Vash has a pull to him that Wolfwood can't ignore, something that makes him hang around town much longer than he normally would. He doesn't want to examine that too much; All the little hints of memory in this that Wolfwood doesn't catch and Vash balks over are my favorite

Amarillo Sky by just_a_lil_shipmate - 15k; Vashwood; E; Cowboy/Angel AU; Vash makes Wolfwood realize maybe he's not better off alone; this fic set off my obsession with cowboy Wolfwood…

try my hardest (if you ask me to) by nbagenda - 15k; Vashwood; E; the team stays at Ship 3, and Wolfwood has Feelings about everything being so clean (and so much gay panic about Vash);  this one uses he/they interchangeably for Vash which I really really love

in love with my own sins by spicecandy ( @gaycowboyjesus) - 15k; Vashwood, Vash/Vash, Wolfwood/Wolfwood; E; Trimax VW meet Tristamp VW; listen the everything between everyone is so good but the romantic tension between Tristamp VW is so cute

Gun Barrel Red Hot by varelsen ( @cloudstrifing) - 17k; Vashwood; E; plant heat plant heat plant heat plant hea-; Wolfwood notices Vash is gone and goes to check on him. Naturally, he gets way more than he expected and lets go of some feelings in the process. Vash… maybe makes a little mistake about that later; eating this whole, just absolutely devouring it

Long Goodbyes by ChenamaReel - 17k; Vashwood; E; Trimax;  After the Arc and before the orphanage, Vash and Wolfwood talk about the what-ifs of the future. With the knowledge of their respective missions, their normal flirting banter turns to something more real; crying sobbing, shoving this in your face

waking up in vegas by kae_karo - 17k; Vashwood; E; Modern AU; They wake up married to each other in Vegas after a night they barely remember. They try to track down the chapel they got married in, but kinda don't wanna undo it by the end of the day; listen this is just so cute they’re so into each otheeerrrr

if you were church (I’d get on my knees) by iokanaan - 18k; Vashwood; E; T4T; Actual Priest Wolfwood, feat. trimax Vashwood as guardian angels (I have no excuse for this one but it goes really hard)

so i'll sing to the grave (put you back together) by desertblooms - 18k; Vashwood; E; Canon-verse; Wolfwood doesn't feel worthy to touch Vash, so Vash shows him that's not true

you'll never get enough by tagteamme ( @phaltu) - 19k; Vashwood; E; Modern AU - Boxer/Gym; Wolfwood owns a gym that is under Nai's thumb, Vash is a regular at the gym and should be off limits; I have read this at least twice and it occasionally haunts my dreams

just a holy fool by @avoidingavoidance - 19k; Vashwood; E; Tristamp; Wolfwood is so upset about how much of a soft spot he has for Vash and Vash somehow makes it worse all the time always; sure Wolfwood, we all believe that you're annoyed with Vash and not stupidly in love with him

a kind heart to haunt by littleghost ( @ghostlandtoo) - 20k; Vashwood; E; Cowboy/Western AU; Wolfwood is an outlaw, Vash left that life a long time ago and doesn't want to get wrapped up in it again

laughter lines by @beesinspades - 21k; Vashwood; E; Modern AU; Ace Vash; Grey Ace Wolfwood; Knives sends Wolfwood to bring Vash back to him. Vash doesn't want to go. Wolfwood kind of doesn't want to make him; crying go read this i love it so much all of Bee's stuff brings me such joy

i’m here in search of your glory (there’s been a million before me) by @sascake - 22k; Vashwood; E; Post-Trimax fix it feat. Wolfwood's entire orphanage

I'd Get Rid of the Sun in Favor of the Moonshine by FlowerFed - 22k; Vashwood; E; Modern AU - Coffeeshop/Cafe; Milly asks Vash to vouch for her ex so he can get a job at the same cafe as him, Vash meets a handsome stranger at the beach; surely there is no connection between these events…; (spoiler, there totally is and they’re super cute)

a tide of tender mercies by @gloriousporpoise - 23k; Vashwood; E; Wolfwood and Vash are on the run after July, chasing bounties; Wolfwood finds himself in a bad way without his serum and gets taken care of (ha, take that, WW!); I'm a sucker for Wolfwood pining hopelessly after Vash and this is just the perfect mix of pining and his snark

sun comin' up by amaiyo - 23k; Vashwood; E; Mermaid AU; Modern AU; Wolfwood is a priest assigned to a tiny island, and sometimes he stands on the pier at night to listen to the strange songs on the ocean wind; Vash is just uncanny enough in this to sate my need for creature Vash, and they’re just so gone on each other

today, and all of the days by @pushclouds - 24k; Vashwood; E; Modern AU; Vash owns a donut shop, Wolfwood owns a smoke shop/bar; Vash doesn't realize they're definitely dating; pls Vash spends the whole time being like “ah yes a business partnership” meanwhile Wolfwood is like… just trying to go on dates with his boyfriend? They’re so fucking stupid

Wanna be your sin, I wanna be a preacher by oh_imintrouble - 24k; Vashwood; E; Trans Vash; Modern AU; Dirtbag Wolfwood tbh; Vash is on the run from Knives and meets Wolfwood, who takes care (and takes care) of him when he's attacked and helps him run; Look okay, Wolfwood is so gross in this, like objectively, I don't think he's ever not been high on something and his mattress is on the floor, he carries a hammer for fuck's sake, just to bash people's heads in, but damn if I wouldn't do some questionable shit for a shot with him

Ascension Day by farseersfool ( @birdadjacent) - 26k; Vashwood; E; Modern AU (but still Plant powers); Wolfwood is a hitman hired by Nai to protect Vash. Surely keeping his mark as close as physically possible is only the logical thing to do. Right? Right.

stop me if you've heard this all before by molotovhappyhour - 27k; Vashwood; E; Canon Divergence; Time Traveler Vash; but only in like small increments; Vash has Rules to avoid trouble with his power. Wolfwood makes him want to break... maybe all of them; Eating this whole, shoving it into my mouth; The way Wolfwood is handled here and how his backstory is changed makes me crazy, I love it

Deep Cuts by megumiblues - 27k; Vashwood; E; Tristamp; Trans Vash; Vash is used to carrying many monikers. El Diablo, Humanoid Typhoon, the things he is called are never good. Wolfwood seems to see him differently for some reason; Get understood and cared for, idiot; Love a touch-starved VW

dance in our catastrophe by @pushclouds - 28k; Vashwood; E; Post-Trimax fix it; Wolfwood and Vash are stuck in a safe house together, what could possibly go wrong?!; Wolfwood's inner monologue in this is so delightful and sad, they (definitely totally platonically) cuddle to keep the Horrors away, and there is at least one (1) playfight that Wolfwood has to end in a panic cause he gets horny about it

The Lord Won’t Forgive Me (But My Angel Will) by natumn - 28k; Vashwood; E; Eriks Vash ❤️; Two years after July, Wolfwood drunkenly stumbles right into Eriks and Lena, and they take him home so he can recover. He stays with them for a while, but Vash never could run from the EoM forever; Eriks feels always fuck me up, I love making Wolfwood face his desire for domesticity, and Lena is perfect and precious

four suns by Joelene - 31k; Vashwood; E; Trimax Vashwood and Tristamp Vashwood meet in the middle of the desert!!; This is genuinely very cute as well as hot, I reread this immediately after finishing it lol; Trimax Vashwood being competitive and then getting lost in themselves is so precious; Wolfwood begging will always be my downfall; They all fuck, but they don't fuck each other. Like each version Vashwood stays together. They do all make out with their own alternative versions, so do with that what you will I guess

you're a canary (i'm a coal mine) by PotatoButt ( @rubyredgh0st) - 32k; Vashwood; E; Modern AU; Zoo keeper Vash; Orphanage Worker Wolfwood; Wolfwood brings his kids to see the tomas show, but sometimes he comes alone to watch the cute handler; Brad is so protective here I love him actually

Amazing Grace by jjAfterHours - 33k; Vashwood; E; Modern AU- Ranch; Rancher Wolfwood; Livestock Vet Vash; When Wolfwood calls his normal vet, they tell him she's out of town, but they can send a replacement. Wolfwood kinda maybe finds every excuse to get him back on the ranch; Once again my favorite flavor of VW!!! Wolfwood is fucking in it, and Vash is trying and failing to hold him at arm's length

Angiosperm by somarysueme - 33k; Vashwood (background and later chapter Polygun); E; Post-Trimax; Wolfwood is brought back with some fun... extras, courtesy of the Plants. He and Vash now also have regular... heats? Mating seasons? There are eggs involved; Look okay, hear me out! If you don't like the idea of oviposition, maybe skip this one?? But if you do.... It's Egg Time

blood in the badlands by eviscerates - 34k; Vashwood; E; Vampire Vash/Vampire Hunter Wolfwood on NML; the Eye of Michael is a hunter group, Wolfwood is not supposed to have feelings for Vash

I'm not a Psycho (I'm Just Trying to Get Laid) by @inkfishie - 34k; Vashwood; E; Tristamp; Various times Vash and Wolfwood have... encounters. Feat. Vash's emotions and awkwardness; this is so cuteeee

At the Top of the World by Insomniac_with_dreams - 35k; Vashwood; E; Cowboy AU; Wolfwood follows a help-wanted ad and finds himself at the Saverem ranch for the summer. He gets... more than he bargained for; God above please read this it's so beautiful and heartfelt and wonderful and they love each other so much fuck

CAUSE OF DEATH (See instructions and examples) by neatrogenous ( @floofyfluff) - 39k; Vashwood; E; Post-Trimax fix it, but Vash runs faster than the Flash from every single Emotion he's ever had (body horror cw for the first chapter)

i think that we should go and get you out of here by molotovhappyhour - 39k; Vashwood; E; Exorcist Wolfwood AU; Wolfwood travels to July to help rid them of a haunting that's taken root there for years, Vash is, of course, at the center of it; the writing in this is so beautiful and haunting and perfectly disorienting during the spookier parts it’s so good

inter paradisum et infernum by itsacoup - 39k; Vashwood; E; Wild West AU; Preacher Wolfwood; Outlaw Vash; Wolfwood takes protecting his flock very seriously, and when Vash rolls into town, he is determined to do just that. Damn if Vash being so attractive and such a match for him doesn't make that difficult though; The way canon elements of their story and background are mixed into the world-building of this is so delicious; They really are drawn to each other in every life

Saturdays at 6 p.m. by maginot - 42k; Vashwood; E; Modern AU; Vash reaches out to professional Dom Wolfwood to ask if he's taking on new subs. Wolfwood realizes he's fucked as soon as Vash walks through his front door; Okay yes this is kinky in the sense that it is an actual, structured BDSM relationship, but it's actually not the kinkiest thing on here??? It is absolutely delightfully spicy and sweet though. And watching Wolfwood fall apart about actually falling for Vash is so fucking GOOD; also vash's pain kink has me on the fucking floor dear god

sugar rush by corvidcaper ( @not-miss-marple) - 42k; Vashwood; E; Modern AU; Vash owns a candy shop; Friends with benefits to lovers; Everyone knows they’re dating except the two of them, and goddamn does Wolfwood try to keep it casual; Spoiler, it is anything but casual lol

in the woods somewhere by halfdemonvash - 42k; Vashwood; E; Fantasy AU; cottagecore; Vash finds Wolfwood injured in his forest and takes him to his home to nurse him back to health. Wolfwood... kinda really loves it. Even if he wasn't entirely there on accident

giving in to your fever touch by honeyseeking ( @sweetyuris) - 46k; Vashwood; E; Trimax/98; Wolfwood finds Vash as Eriks and gives him three days to make up his mind; *violently shaking this fic* it's so full of emotions

Pillow Talk by fantasy_stupid - 47k; Vashwood; E; Modern AU; Nai sends Wolfwood to secretly trail Vash and make sure he's safe while Nai is gone. Vash clocks him immediately and they try to make the best of it; bodyguard Wolfwood you have my heart and soul

by the time the apocalypse began by everythingeverything (yiqie) ( @englishsub) - 50k; Vashwood; E; Sci-fi AU; Spaceship Mechanic Wolfwood; Wolfwood's crew picks up what they think is a distress signal and follow it to it's source; I really can't do this fic justice with a summary without spoilers but like!!! Vash and Wolfwood stuck on a planet together!!! I love them!!!!!!!

The Lighthouse by EloFromMars - 51k; Vashwood; E; Lighthouse guy Wolfwood; Eldritch Horror Vash; legitimate lovecraftian level eldritch horror but like.... Vash is still a baby girl and Wolfwood is still into it; honorary mention for Kuroneko

Citronella by @canyondotcom - 58k; Vashwood; E; Modern AU; Vampire AU; Creature Vash; Woodworker Wolfwood; Wolfwood wakes up in the middle of the night to something--no, someone on his porch. Against his better judgment, he lets them in... Things get... Interesting; Uuggggghhhhh God this is so good I love creature Vash and the vampire lore is so unique and non-traditional I love it so much

song of solomon 4:7 by ellisisntreal - 68k; Vashwood; E; Modern AU; Trans Vash; A cute new neighbor moves in across from Wolfwood, one who he quickly realizes is the hottest DILF ever and exactly his type; listen. LISTEN! This is so good, Vash's kid is 13, so he's old enough to be funny and snarky, Vash and Wolfwood's banter is amazing, and scenes with all three of them (and eventually Livio) are actually so funny I was wheezing. Idk how you write dialog so real and hilarious, but I had a grand fucking time

Strawberries & Cigarettes by Umbr_el_on - 71k; Vashwood; E; Modern AU - Tattoo shop/Flower shop; "No, seriously, Livio, it's just casual, it doesn't mean anything, stop"; several days later: *calls Livio crying about how much Vash makes him feel*; and that's it that's the fic; I like that they're both broken and fucked up here, and they make mistakes and piss each other off, but they continue to choose to try together. It just makes me really happy. They aren't perfect but they're perfect together

A Step By Step Guide to Love and Peace, Written by Vash Saverem (Co-Authored by Friends, Family, and Nicholas D. Wolfwood) by calandos - 71k; Vashwood; E; Modern AU - Fleabag; Trans Vash; Priest Wolfwood; It's fucking.... it's a fleabag AU idk how much harder I can sell this I clicked immediately when I saw the tag; yeah, it has the confession scene; this made me want to cry. I may have actually cried; god I relate to Vash so much

someone to last your whole life by catchatter ( @needlab7) - 73k; Vashwood; E; Post-Trimax fix it, with deep attention to the realities of mourning and what it means to have mourned someone who is no longer dead; genuinely one of the most beautiful things I have ever read

Trillium and Ivy by @shastafirecracker - 80k; Vashwood; E; Modern AU; Funeral Director Wolfwood; Garden Center Vash; Wolfwood works at a funeral home across from the garden center, and notices the cute co-owner; this one is a personal favorite it makes me feel insane if I think about it too long

Someone's hand opens (I hold it) by tytonidae - 80k; Vashwood; E; Post-Trimax Alternate Timeline; Wolfwood and the girls don't meet Vash until long after the events of Trimax; the world building 🤌🏽 the bonding 🤌🏽 the EoM lore 🤌🏽

Wildflowers by @shastafirecracker - 103k; Vashwood; E; Dark Fantasy AU; cottagecore; Trans Wolfwood; Wolfwood is sent to kill the Beast Lord of the forest and gets far more than he bargained for; dear fucking God please read this holy shit I cannot overstate how good the world building is

How Easy You Are To Need by @nexadarling - 10k+; Vashwood; E; Plant Heat; Vash goes into heat when he's in the middle of the desert with Wolfwood. He really does try so hard to keep him from finding out

Daylily by @needlesknives (bakusboi) - 10k+; Vashwood; E; Modern AU - Tattoo shop; Vash comes to Wolfwood wanting to get his scarring covered with tattoos, Wolfwood realizes this project entails a lot more than he anticipated. In several ways

honeysuckle red by @beelzebby666 - 43k+; Vashwood; E; Modern AU; Line Cook Wolfwood (yes it's important shut up); A one night stand turns into Wolfwood spending so much time with Vash and his fucking garden (why does he like bees so much I love him????); Wolfwood just wants to be kept. He just wants to be kept!!!

la vache! by @skittidyne - 28k+; Vashwood; E; Modern AU - Sex Work; Sex Worker Vash; Trans Vash; Wolfwood needs to learn French very quickly since he promised Livio he would and then procrastinated till the last moment. He finds his solution in Vash's... unique way of teaching (it might involve dildos); I'm rabid over the fact there are not more chapters of this

save a horse by ofxanadu - 37k+; Vashwood; E; Western AU; Trans Vash; Wolfwood saves Vash from getting mugged by the Bad Lads Gang and has a night so memorable he's hung up on it for almost a year when Vash shows up again; i cannot even put into words my thoughts on this fic I'm just making feral sounds about how much I love it

If you know me no you don't!

Come tell me your opinions about all of these my DMs are open I promise

[riddled-with-fear]

Hello hello friend! Congratulations on your 100 followers! 🎊🎉🎊

I would perhaps like some 80's music on a Vinyl with Arkham Riddler? 👀

Thank you, friend!🥹💚

So, you’re looking for an 80s Vinyl Featuring Arkham!Riddler? I have JUST the thing 😌🫶🏻

side note: this kind of got LONG haha! Thank you for your continuous support, and all of your kind words! <3

WC: 1782

CW: Fem!reader, PIV Sex, unprotected sex, verbal abuse from Eddie (like always), if I am missing any tags, let me know!

NSFW under the cut!

“Hand me the socket wrench.” Edward held out a gloved hand behind him.

You quickly rifled through a cardboard box of various assorted tools. Sensing Edward’s very thin patience, you grabbed the first wrench-like tool you saw and slapped it into his waiting hand. 

Edward brought it in front of him, sighed deeply, and then slammed it down on his work table. “A socket wrench! Socket! Do I need to spell out everything for you?” 

Heat bloomed across your cheeks and down your neck, you turned back to the box and dug through the tools again.

Edward clenched his fists, furrowed his brows, and took a deep breath. You were making far too much noise, and taking far too long to look for a very common tool. 

“ENOUGH! Leave, I’ll get it myself. Your incompetence lately has not been unnoticed.” Edward stood up, easily towering over your hunched form.

You sheepishly stopped digging in the dingy box, and stood up, facing him. You couldn’t help but notice the way his goggles mussed his dark hair up. You couldn’t help but notice the way the oil and grime highlighted his cheek bones. You certainly couldn’t help but notice the sweat trickling down his neck, over his collarbones, down to his bony chest. You saw thin strands of chest hair just barely peeking out from the neckline of his well-worned white undershirt. You so badly wanted to see what else he was hiding under it. You let your eyes wander.

Edward cleared his throat. Your eyes quickly snapped up to his. He was right, you had been ‘incompetent’ as of late. You couldn’t exactly place why you were so out of it. Why you were so distracted… why you found yourself with lingering eyes, or why you were starting to notice more physical details about Edward.

Then, it hit you.

You wanted to fuck Edward. The Riddler. Gotham’s greatest everything.

Shit.

Edward cocked his brows up, “Well? Are you going to stand there all day with your mouth hanging open like some lobotomized fool?”

You quickly closed your mouth, and backed away from the box. Edward bent down, and began to rifle through his chaotically organized tools. You noticed the way his muscles and tendons flexed under his skin. You noticed just how large his forearms were. You supposed that’s what happens when you work with your hands as much as he does. You bit your lip, your throat going dry. 

“This!” He exclaimed, pulling out the wrench, “Is a socket wrench.” He turned to face you, holding the tool out in front of him. 

You couldn’t focus on what he was saying, but you saw his gloved finger pointing at the tool. His large finger. You began to wonder what his hands would feel like on you. His arms wrapped around you… His fingers inside you.

You shook the thought from your head as soon as it entered. God, what was wrong with you? You could not believe you were harboring these explicit feelings for your boss. Someone with walls so impenetrably thick. Someone who was so cold, you were surprised he could feel anything at all. 

“I-I know what it is.” You finally responded.

“Oh? Is that right? You could have fooled even me.”

“Eddie, enough, please. I understand I haven’t been performing as well as I should be. You don’t need to keep berating me.”

“No, no, I think I do. How else will I get through that thick skull of yours?” Edward turned back to the mechanical odds and ends splayed out on the table.

“You’re an asshole.” You wish you could have swallowed your words before you said them.

Edward paused with the mechanical tinkering. He slowly turned to face you, his blue eyes cold and sharp. “I advise you to watch that mouth of yours, lest you forget who you’re talking to.”

You stood up straighter, “No. It’s true. You, Edward Nigma, sir, are an asshole.” 

Edward let the wrench fall out of his hands and clatter to the floor. He stood up, his fists clenched in on themselves. 

With your feet thinking for you, you bolted out of his workshop. 

Edward quickly followed suit, yelling for your attention, yet it fell on your deaf ears. You didn’t quite know where you were running to, but you just needed to escape that suffocating workshop. You just needed to escape Edward.

You flung open the closest door, closing it quickly. You turned around and your sigh of relief quickly turned into a sigh of annoyance. Of course it would be Edward’s room you stumbled into.

The door flew open, knocking you back. 

“What do you think you’re doing?!” Edward was furious with your recent actions.

“Noth-nothing! It was an honest mistake, I’m sor-”

Edward cut you off, “-I don’t want to hear your simple-minded excuses!”

He walked closer to you, giving you no choice but to walk backwards and away from him. He didn’t stop. He kept stalking closer to you, his sharp features twisted into fury. Your knees hit the back of his bed, knocking you on your ass on his mattress. Edward hovered over you.

“What do I have to do?” Edward shoved your shirt over your bra. “What do I have to say?” His gloved hands shoved your bra up, exposing your tits. 

You let out a meek gasp at his brazen actions, “Ed-!”

“-I am NOT finished!” He roughly groped your tits, kneading the pliable flesh under his gloves. 

“I let you in. I let you stay! I let you be a nuisance to me. I don’t know what more you want!” His hands slid down to your jeans, fumbling with the button and the zipper. 

“I… I just.. I…” your mind was a fogged mess. You couldn’t think straight. You and Edward were just arguing, and now? Now he had you on his bed, underneath him as he was undressing you. 

He, undressing you.

You couldn’t make sense of it, had the tension really built up this badly? 

“Well? Cat got your tongue?” He yanked your jeans down your hips. 

“No! No, I don’t know!” You muttered out.

Edward let out a sharp scoff, “that’s right, you don’t know. Your tiny little brain knows nothing!” 

You were shocked, to say the least, at the effect of his words. Usually they cut through you, stinging your soul, piercing your heart. But now? Now they went straight to your core, seeping out of you in shameful arousal between your thighs. 

“Pathetic. Look at you. Succumbing to such base and utterly filthy instincts.” Edward scowled at your now nude body underneath him. He scowled at the damp spot on his sheets.

Bold of him to point out your feelings, when his are showing quite well under his cargo pants. 

His gloved hands grabbed your knees, forcing your legs apart.

“Filthy. Utterly filthy, look at you! A wet, trembling mess.”

Your breathing picked up, the arousal burning your core. You bucked your hips upwards, in hopes of getting some kind of friction to your throbbing clit, or something to sink your aching cunt on. 

“Eddie–fuck!–please!” you whined. 

Edward undid his tool belt, tossing it aside. His question mark belt followed. He wasted no time in unbuttoning and unzipping his stained cargo pants. 

You bit back a moan at the sight of his cock. Thin and long, it mirrored him quite well. The tip was already flushed and leaking. Still with his gloves on, Edward grabbed his hard cock, giving it a few quick strokes as he braced himself against your warm, wet entrance. 

“You,” He thrust himself inside you, “have become quite the problem.” 

You finally let out the moan that was desperate to crawl out of your throat. 

Edward’s cock easily slid into your soaked cunt, his clothed hips meeting your exposed ones. Edward sighed, dropping over you, caging you into the mattress with his arms. 

“What have you done to me?” He mumbled in shallow breaths. 

Edward began thrusting into you slowly, clearly savoring the way your cunt gripped his cock, your soothing walls calming the ache in his shaft. He tangled his gloved hands into your hair, gripping tight, trying to ground himself. 

His tip kissed your cervix gently with every slow thrust Edward gave you. His tip slid against your G-spot with every soft drag out of you. His shaft stretched your walls just enough you felt full. It was pure ecstasy, and he was your dealer. 

Edward leaned closer into you, his lips brushing the shell of your ear. He was lost in you. His mind was quiet, he felt… good. For once, he actually felt like he was doing something right. His lips found your earlobe and he gave a gentle suck, eliciting a soft mewl from you.

“Eddie…”

“Shh. Just… Be quiet. Please?” He moved to your neck, peppering surprisingly soft kisses along your pulse point.

You obliged him, enjoying the feeling of finally having him where you want him. That ‘where’ being inside you. Being as vulnerable as he possibly can, with you. 

Edward moved away from you, rising up. He quickly pulled out of you.

“What’s wrong?” You were concerned you scared him off already. 

He didn’t say anything. Edward grabbed your hips, flipped you onto your stomach, raised your rear to meet his hips, and thrust into you again. 

You yelped in surprise. His thrusts picked up becoming harsher and faster. 

“Ah fuck! Eddie, Eddie slow down, wait!” 

“Shut up. Shut up, shut up, shut up!” He gripped you harsher, his thrusting becoming erratic. 

Edward felt his cock start twitching, his balls felt tighter with every thrust into your sopping cunt. Pleasure ran through your nerves, your own orgasm slowly building up. Edward lost rhythm as he chased his own release. 

You reached a hand in between your thighs, your fingers circling your neglected clit, working it fast in hopes to cum in tandem with Edward. Edward gave a final thrust, stilling inside you while he came with a heavy sigh.

You worked at your clit still, finally reaching your own climax just as Edward fully pulled out of you. Both of your release spilling from you and soaking his sheets. 

You collapsed onto your side. Flushed and breathing heavy, you look to a flustered Edward.

He cleared his throat, “Well. I have much work to attend to… So… I’ll just go do… that.” He quickly made himself decent, grabbed his belts and left you to clean and dress yourself. 

You stared at the open door in disbelief. 

You were far from satisfied with him. You finally had a taste, and now you had an insatiable hunger.

[survivesurvivingwhump]

whump intro (redux)

hi there! it's me, gav @foundfamilywhump. he/they, 27. aro butch.

this is my second whump account, for posts that are generally darker/more explicit/overtly triggering in particular ways. there will regularly be sexual violence in the posts on this blog, though everything will be tagged as thoroughly as i can, for content warning and organization purposes. as a note, i want to be clear about something: when i write about or engage in whump that is focused on sexual violence, i do so from a pure whump perspective centred on trauma. it is not meant to be erotica or kink material. i can't and won't try to control what anyone does or doesn't do in their own time, but do not bring it to my door please.

combo of fandom and non-fandom whump posts/reblogs, though i don't really do much with like... specific whump ocs, it's just not something that holds my interest for some reason. i do some giffing, and i'm trying to get more practice with it. this is a side-blog, so if i don't follow you back, that's why lol. queue posts once a day.

please do not add things about romance to my posts when you reblog them. totally get that not everyone who reblogs from me will see this post or remember it when reblogging and im not gonna be pissed off if someone does but i did want to make that request publicly and explicitly. i post often about relationships between characters, including whumpees and caretakers, that include a lot of intimacy, intensity, affection, support, love, etc. none of those posts are romantic and they are intentionally nonromantic.

housekeeping under the cut, re: what will be here, what won't be here, etc.

things you will find here:

interpersonal dynamics of the team, found family, enemies to friends, queerplatonic varieties (and more!). big emphasis on platonic intimacy.

some fave tropes include touch starvation, torture, difficult and complicated recovery arcs, whipping, nightmares, characters being helped to bathe/wash after whump, interpersonal abuse, and many many more

comfort and care, and hope if not 'happy' endings

darker content than is on my main whump blog, as per the purpose. sexual violence, interpersonal/child abuse is a frequent topic.

things you will NOT find here (sometimes with some exception):

romance. at all. if i make a post, it is always meant without romance. if i reblog a post, i avoid romantic relationships as much as i can. i am an intensely romance repulsed aromantic person.

character death

hurt no comfort

pet whump/bbu type stuff/general 'prolonged captivity where no one ever gets out and the whumpee is fawning and completely brainwashed' vibe stuff

'carewhumpers'. this is such a specific niche beef but i really do not understand the term and i think it makes no sense and kind of sucks and plays into some really uncomfortable and shitty beliefs about abuse and what 'real' harm is and how harm is 'not that bad' if someone doesn't truly mean it or if they're like, nice sometimes. more on that here from my main whump blog.

gendered generic whump posts. im sorry, there's just no reason this generic nameless whumpee needs to be a 'he'.

[nabi-unveiled]

Where on the "White Knight" spectrum is Sung-hyun?

Note: There's multiple spellings of these characters' names. I just chose the ones that would cause the least confusion for me and went with it.

I really am enjoying this show, but I had begun overthinking everything and questioning Sung-hyun. It was time to revisit the facts (of ep 1 - 3). The first version of this deep dive went scene by scene and got about three miles long. So here's the condensed version (which is still too long) organized by the questions I was asking myself while watching. I still haven't watched episode 4, and I'm avoiding the tags until then so other people have likely pointed out many of these things.

It's also important to note as we go through these - Da-on is no meek mouse character. He will and DOES stand up for himself. He comes across more gentle in some ways because he is the only one mostly respecting everybody's boundaries (so far).

Side note - My re-watch made my appreciation of Da-on go through the roof. I may be questioning everyone in this show’s motives for wanting Da-on on a meta level, but I probably shouldn’t. Honestly, I’d be down bad for him too. That's a different post though.

Question #1: What attracted Sung-hyun to Da-on?

This was probably the most important question to me in terms of Sung-hyun's characterization. Was it because Da-on was vulnerable?

The answer is no. It's physical attraction first. We're actually already swooning before Da-on's father ever shows up.

Sung-hyun first shows attraction when Da-on fixes his tie. It's before Dad shows up, before Su-hyeon shows up, and before he recognizes that Da-on has any problems at all. We go straight from this to him trying to please Da-on...which brings us to the next question.

Question #2: Does Sung-hyun derive pleasure from playing the "White Knight"?

We are introduced to Sung-hyun when he's "saved" Da-on and is a bit peeved that Da-on is upset at him for saving him. He initially sees Da-on as rude. Fair. We know why Da-on is so upset, but it makes sense that Sung-hyun doesn’t get why the watch was such a big deal. Especially if he doesn't deal with those kind of $$$ watches often.

He does change his tune about this when he realizes how expensive the watch is.

Sung-hyun does do A LOT of things to help Da-on. However, none of it is malicious (seemingly) or because he wants to be the savior of the weak and vulnerable. What does the man want? Praise.

He puts it in his rules, and he directly asks for it the next day.

This is followed by him undoing the tie when Da-on doesn't really praise him about it. My current thinking - man has something akin to a praise kink rather than true white knight syndrome.

Particularly telling is that he didn't step in initially when Su-hyeon grabs Da-on in the office. He was more concerned by what it meant that Da-on had spent the night at another man's house.

He doesn't ALWAYS feel the need to rescue Da-on. In re-watching, he actually seems to delay just a bit in stepping in most times before deciding he needs to do so. He always apologizes for interfering, and Da-on consistently tells him that it's ok if he does.

Question #3: How much does Sung-hyun actually know about Da-on's situation?

Not a lot. He's heard Jae-min's name and only knows that Da-on spent the night there. He knows Da-on has problems with his dad, but he has no idea what they are at this point. Sung-hyun does tell Da-on to cry it out. That means he HAS picked up on the fact that there’s more going on that just being sick. He is also VERY well aware that Su-hyeon is a problem and potentially dangerous. (Note: Using that info to get Da-on to stay at his house can be interpreted in multiple ways - one sweet & caring, one taking advantage).

However, he has only seen small glimpses of Su-hyeon's rage. The man really has no idea just HOW much of a shitstorm Da-on is in at this point. He has bare bones information.

Question #4: Is Sung-hyun controlling Da-on?

We're now getting into the scenes that initially sent me on my spiral of overthinking.

First up - the negotiation of working together

Da-on asks for him to please let them work together. AKA - please don’t fuck with my job. Sung-hyun lays out his rules which includes daily meals, getting to know each other outside of work, sharing private information, and praising each other. Way beyond normal coworker stuff. It could seem sweet. He just wants to get to know Da-on right? But it could also seem invasive.

Except, remember he’s just been doing everything he can to piss Da-on off. He knows Da-on won’t like this. Da-on lays out his own rules, but Sung-hyun says he’ll just tell the manager they won’t work together. There’s no attempt at compromise. My way or else. Sung-hyun is the one with the power here. Da-on wants the project. In the end, Da-on capitulates. Poor boy gives up.

That said - it’s not exactly controlling behavior. He didn’t expect Da-on to agree. Sung-hyun has no way of knowing just how important the project is to Da-on, and he doesn’t know the company culture yet. He’s actually pleasantly surprised when Da-on gives in. All signs point to the fact that he was trying to get out of working with Da-on (just like he had been when it was first announced).

Once Da-on agrees, he immediately changes his tone and behavior back to Friendly Joe. If Da-on is going to try and get along, then he’ll try too. That’s the generous interpretation of that tone switch-up. There ARE other interpretations. I'm still pondering to some extent.

Second questionable scene - the movie theater hand grab

I actually don't mind Sung-hyun proposing they go to the movie. Da-on was actually the one that made the horror movie conversation go deeper at the restaurant anyways. He knew Da-on needed a distraction. Da-on still could've said no. This is where Da-on not being a meek mouse is important. Da-on DOES tell people no. Sung-hyun was obviously on a fishing expedition to find out if Da-on was dating. Fair. You need to know if your crush is taken.

However, him going straight for asking to hold Da-on's hand after the scene with Su-hyeon bothered me. Especially since Da-on didn't say yes before he grabbed his hand.

However, upon re-watching, it bothered me less. Why?

Sung-hyun is a physical person in general. He cages. Which is definitely an invasion of physical space, but....some of us actually find it very hot. 😏 Kabedon exists for a reason. The important thing here is that Da-on is not bothered by it AT ALL.

Da-on has already told him to let go of his hand before, and he did. (Him letting go is supposed to contrast Su-hyeon who DOESN'T ever let go when Da-on asks.) Da-on feels comfortable telling Sung-hyun to back off or let go. Da-on doesn't push his hand away at the movie theater.

Plus, Da-on is JUST as physical with Sung-hyun. He's the one that got physical first (tying the tie), and he's physical at other moments too PRIOR to the movie theater.

So crossing physical boundaries? Yes. (But they both do it.) Maneuvering to get his crush to notice him and get time with his crush? Yes. Controlling his crush? No. Not really. He also doesn't ALWAYS push the boundary. He drops off the congee/meds and leaves for example. Many examples (like taking him to the doctor) are just care. The man is not playing a 4D chess game unlike someone else....

Question #5: Does the series KNOW that Sung-hyun is crossing (or at least pushing) boundaries?

Short answer - No. It doesn't. He gets to be adorable with his grandma. He gets the rom-com music. He's in the light. We're supposed to be charmed that he lets go when asked since the other two do not and overlook the fact that Da-on didn't say yes. In fact, the show is really characterizing Sung-hyun's behavior as energetic puppy. It even symbolizes that he's a puppy.

When he was ignored in episode 1, he caused chaos (the petty office shenanigans) but they were largely harmless shenanigans. It's brat behavior. Annoying, but not malicious. It should be noted once again that Da-on is our actual green flag. He didn't reciprocate in the office shenanigans.

Now that he's pursuing Da-on, that puppy energy has turned into trying to please (back to praise...lol) and care for Da-on.

What the show does know? Sung-hyun is supposed to parallel Jae-min.

They both meet Da-on in the street and offer to help him.

They both "help" him.

They are both very physical and frequently touch Da-on.

They have VERY similar dialogue on MULTIPLE occasions.

They have him sleep in their bed.

They both make him toast and eggs for breakfast. (However, they only eat together at one of these homes.)

There's a mirror after he spends the night at both of their houses. Not that it will matter to most, but the mirror at Sung-hyun's house shows his FEET. IYKYK.

There's several other parallels, but basically Sung-hyun and Jae-min parallel each other in how they approach Da-on. The difference is in how they respond to Da-on when he makes a move. Both men have different motivations and they want different things for/from Da-on. For example, we see it in that Sung-hyun WILL let Da-on treat him. Sung-hyun is supposed to show what the “good”/pure-hearted version of these actions actually looks like.

Sung-hyun's confession is also meant to contrast how Da-on didn’t confess (until recently) or that Su-hyeon never confessed at all. Just like the visuals convey in that scene, it’s about being open vs being in the shadows. They are framing him as a man who takes action in the open rather than in secret.

It’ll be interesting to see if some of the themes they are alluding to — being on the same level, when is help not actually help, etc. get addressed in future episodes.

Which brings us to the choice you have to make with Sung-hyun's character.

Do you let his boundary crossing (because he does cross them) and his general physicality bother you?

Or accept that this is a 2000s makjang throwback complete with nosebleeds? He’s not unlike most male leads in earlier kdramas.

Your choice is yours alone. Personally, I’ll frame this as a throwback makjang in my mind moving forward. I'll notice the boundary crossing I'm sure. I expect that WILL continue. But... Da-on is precious. Jae-min is delicious. The set-up is fun. I'm just going to enjoy the shenanigans.

It's time to find out how this confession turned out.

[bringmeanangel]

Spiral

A/n: This is part 2 of One Too Many. One day I'll figure out how to make a masterlist and organize things.

Paring: Spencer and Reader tags/warnings: anxiety attack. spiraling reader. doubting. Overthinking. caring Spencer Reid. extremely irrational thinking. Like totally makes no sense. Good girl is used. Mention of childhood traurma. Synopsis: you tell your mom that your not applying to that job and she gets in your head. Spencer calms you down

You had been feeling better since Spencer helped you the other day. However you went to visit your mom and she asked you if you were applying to the job and you told her no.

The look on her face, made you feel guilty, even though you had nothing to feel guilty about. You told her that you had things lined up and she she reminded you that you didn't apply to any festival that overlapped.

You told her that you applied to others once you found out that you didn't get into the one festival that was hiring. She was letting up and get trying to get you to apply.

She was still unware that you were working on two more applications and you weren't going to tell her.

On your way home, you started to think about everything. How you promised yourself you were going to apply to anything. That you really didn't want this and you knew they weren't going to take you.

That being said, what if you didn't apply to this, maybe it would start some weird cosmic shift and by not applying to this, then the other opportunities wouldn't happen.

You knew that this made no sense at all. That it was irrational thinking, but once the spiral started, you couldn't get out of it.

You entered the apartment, not really paying attention. You dropped your bag and threw your coat on the chair, toeing off your shoes. Spencer called your name, but you didn't hear him.

You made your way to the shared bedroom and grabbed your laptop. You turned and jumped a little bit when your boyfriend was standing there.

"Love, what's going on?" he asked, taking you in.

He furrowed his brow when he saw the despondent look in your eyes. It was like you were looking right through him. He sighed and cupped your face, thumbs rubbing your temples. Your eyes couldn't focus.

"Angel" he cooed, trying to get your attention. "Eyes on me. Look at me, love." your eyes kept shifting around, you let out a small whine. "Can you hear me?" his voice was steady, but he was trying not to sound panicked.

"Mmm" you got out, trying to nod.

"Good. That's good. Can you look at me please?"

Your eyes met his for a second and then darted around again. You gripped tight to your laptop, not wanting to let it go. What was he asking? Oh, right.

You locked eyes with him again, seeing brown eyes softly looking at you. You closed your eyes and tried to focus on his thumbs now massaging your temples.

"Good girl" he spoke quietly, when he felt you relax a bit. "Let's put the laptop down, yeah?" and you nodded, eyes still closed.

With one hand Spencer took your computer and placed it back on the desk. You still kept your arms tight to you, as if you were still holding it.

Spencer firmly wrapped his hands around your wrists. Not tugging your arms, but hoped the pressure would help you let go of the tension. You squeezed your eyes tight. Spencer rested his forehead agaisnt yours.

"You're safe." he spoke.

You opened your eyes, looking down, too embarrassed to look at him. He watched as your shoulders dropped. He reached a hand up and cupped your cheek stroking his thumb against it.

"I spiraled" you whispered.

"Can you tell me why?"

"Well-"

"Are you able to look at me while you do so?" He noticed your lip quiver. "Angel, you don't need to feel ashamed or embarrassed about what just happened. I am here for you. I would never judge."

"Ca-can I not look at you while I tell you?"

"okay, sweetheart"

Spencer listened as you told him everything. He knew that the guilt, was part of a childhood trauma and how ld sometimes your mom would say "If you do this, then I will give you this" So, he could see why this was hard.

"Thank you for telling me that. You still have time to apply, should you choose to do it. However, right now I'm going to help you change into your comfy sweats and I'm going to hold you."

"Thank you" you said barely audible.

"Always."

Spencer lead you over to your bed and undid your jeans and pulled your top off, before helping you out of your pants. He helped you into your sweatpants and grabbed one of his shirts for you to wear.

He turned the heating blanket on and had you crawl under. He then changed into his comfy clothes and got under the covers pulling you tight.

Your head rested on his chest and he rubbed your back. You felt warm, safe and loved.

[moons-br]

Domestic team demolition polycule moments

Ship: Natsu x Erza x Gray x Lucy

(Intended to be romantic, but like anything I write it can be taken in a qpr way. Other ships are implied as well as are some characters mentioned that were not tagged)

I do have plans to write some fics based on these ideas later on but i just want to share them here and now.

Playing house

I think some time after the Alvarez arc, Erza, Natsu, Lucy, and Gray moved into a house together. The house is located near the guildhall, yet it was sufficiently remote from the bustling town to provide them with a peaceful environment. The four of them (and Happy) would switch between staying at Lucy's, Gray's, and Natsu's place and it was just easier to all live together.

The house would be pretty big, as it had the combined income of four super strong wizards and Natsu's little money hoard. It would have plenty of space and rooms (one main bedroom and a room for each of them, one bedroom for Happy, a bedroom for Wendy and Carla, and a spare room for guests).

I think that Natsu's room would be where he holds most of his hoard, all this stuff from past jobs, things he thinks his partners would like as gifts, etc., etc.

Erza's rooms would be similar, a place where she is safe to keep all the things she likes that aren't just in her dorm or magic subspace. It's probably one of the bigger rooms due to how much she has.

Lucy's room would be an office and small library; she likes to have a little peace when writing, after all.

Gray's room would probably be the smallest but also have its own cooling lacrima so it can be as cold as he wants it without dealing with Lucy complaining.

I think their bedroom would be massive, with a huge bed in the corner to keep one side always protected, and it would be an organized mess. Natsu always knows where everything is in the room, even when things are thrown around into piles. Lucy loses things the most due to being so used to things being organized.

Drinking

Natsu is pretty much unaffected by alcohol to me (all the dragon slayers are, for that fact). So he is the designated "dealing with drunk idiots" person. Not that he minds much because he gets to fret over his pack-mates and care for them, which really warms his heart.

Lucy is a silly drunk; she also becomes very clingy. Wanting to cling to Natsu and drag him along everywhere she goes.

Gray just wandered and liked to sit in the cold even more than normal; this becomes a problem if he is allowed to wander around and doesn't come home. This puts everyone into a panic.

Erza gets tired and just likes to sleep the more liquor she has in her system. She will go from being unfiltered to sleeping like a rock in ten minutes.

All together, it's like herding cats for Natsu to drag them all home, not like he wasn't used to this before they all lived together. He would normally bring them all to their respective lodgings or just bring them all to Lucy's place. It took him a little time to get a proper bed in his house for them all to sleep there, but once that was in place, Natsu always brought them home to take care of them.

Natsu also likes helping with their hangovers. Lucy needs a cold shower and then some food and tea to help her, Gray needs black, cold coffee, and Erza needs lots of food and tea. It's one of the few times Natsu cooks for them, as he also makes them all breakfast to help them out. He just likes being a good pack-mate and helping the people he loves.

Sleeping aragments

Something that has always held over from missions is sleeping in shifts. Even in the safety of their own homes, it's something ingrained in them all from the trauma of their childhoods and their adulthood's.

Gray almost always takes the first shift. He naturally falls asleep later than the other three, so it just made sense for him to take first watch. He uses this time as his designated brood time, where he can just sit in the quiet and the soft sounds of his partners sleeping. It's done wonders for his mental health because he knows he's safe but is able to be alone with them.

Erza and Natsu switch who does second and third watch based on how they are feeling that night. Normally Erza takes second and Natsu takes third. Erza is normally easier to wake up after only a few hours of sleep, and Natsu likes waking Lucy up.

Lucy takes the last watch. She naturally wakes up early, and after a few watches, she started waking up when the fourth watch began anyways (much to her own disappointment. Sometimes she wants to sleep in but just can't). Lucy now likes waking up early; it gives her plenty of time to read or write without the others being annoying, and she is able to cook for them, which she loves doing.

Never empty home

Their house is never empty. Wendy and Carla are over all the time. The only reason they don't live with the four of them is because she wants a little freedom at times as she comes into her teenage years and later adulthood. Their house is a safe place for her to run to whenever she needs it. (It's not like there aren't other places she can run to, too. The whole guild cares about the youngest dragon slayer).

Levy likes to pester Lucy in her home, taking it as a good chance to read her stories and gossip about what the two ladies have found. Gajeel will often follow after Levy, much to the Iron Dragon Slayer's dismay. Being in Natsu's den feels weird even if he's welcomed because they are family.

Juvia and Lisanna like to visit and will stay for afternoon tea. As much as the house is chaotic, it is ever relaxing to be there.

Cana will loiter in their house all the time to annoy Lucy and Gray, and often Loki will summon himself to join her in pestering the celestial and ice wizards out of affection.

[ilys00ga]

𝗶𝗻 𝘆𝗼𝘂𝗿 𝗵𝗮𝗻𝗱𝘀, 𝘂𝗻𝗱𝗲𝗿 𝘆𝗼𝘂𝗿 𝗻𝗮𝗶𝗹𝘀.

➞ pair: yoongi x reader.

➞ genre: hurt/comfort (why do I keep making these lmao), established relationships, I'm so bad at tagging sorry.

➞ warnings: angst and fluff cuz we all need that (we really do). reader has anxiety and abandonment issues, yoongi is trying his best for the sake of both of them, just relationship things.

➞ A/N: requested by @parkjennykim, this was very fun to write! thanks for yet another idea <3 I hope u like it. I'm organizing this blog/post (?) while listening to mono, and let me tell yall, it's such a vibe omg. I think you should read this while listening to that album, I love it sm, I can't even begin to explain UGH- if namjoon ever goes on a world tour, he better perform every single song in that album, cuz imma be losing my mind in the crowd, esp during moonchild. my vocal cords are already getting sore. yeah. if u want this to hit that spot, maybe u should do what I said (this is a friendly order, if u will). if not, just enjoy and pls ignore any mistakes, english has been challenging me recently (for the last 10 years lmao)

ps. I am in a dire need of a yoongi in my life. specifically the one I wrote in this one. oh how I love being a lonely fanfic writer <33

★ MASTERLIST.

ᵎᵎ 𖦹彡⋆｡˚・ ─ ・ ⋯ ・ ─ ⊹ ♡₊˚๑

God knows how long it had been after it hit midnight when Yoongi stood in the kitchen. His eyes were red and heavy with drowsiness, but he couldn't sleep that night.

How does one sleep through a restless, biting night?

Surely not with a bad headache, or overflowing thoughts, and especially not with guilt chewing on his core.

He gulped, throat begging to be quenched as it held onto a slight, delicious, yet bothersome burning sensation. He opened the fridge and filled a glass with some water, raising it to his lips when loud a cry of his name, followed with a thud and a number of sobs, disturbed the quiet of the night and made him jump, startled.

His limbs froze in their place, glass almost slipping his hand and crashing on the floor when his sleep deprived brain realized that the muffled cries were yours.

Wide awake, he dashed after the sound. Thirst and sleep no longer occupied his mind, all he could think of was holding you in his arms.

He found you on the stairs, trembling as you wailed into your hands.

He hated it so much: seeing you in pain. He wanted nothing more than to shield you from the rainfall of your gloomy sky, from his own rainfall, from the world. How could one be an umbrella and the rain at once?

He blinked, once, twice, then gulped and heaved a deep, tired breath.

One storm doesn’t require another storm to be calmed down, that he knew. One needs to be composed and collected to stand still during a storm, that he knew as well.

With worried eyes, he gently called out your name and walked up to you, “darling, what’s wrong?”

You looked up as soon as you heard his worried voice, some tiny sense of relief washed over you when you saw him right there. A hundred daggers digged so deep into his heart and bones, aching, the moment a broken whimper of his name fell from your lips.

Without a second thought, Yoongi hugged your face to his chest. One of his hands was patting your back and the other affectionately caressed your head.

As he listened to his name that never left your lips, Yoongi held you there on the cold of the stairs with nothing but sweet nothings whispered back to your ears.

Everything he did and said was so gentle and soft, like he was so afraid you'd crack and come to tiny bits and pieces at any given moment. It all made you want to cry even harder, to hold him so tight and never let go.

Soon, when your tears started winding down, pulled away and cradled your face with his hands, palms faintly pressing on your cheeks as if he hoped to share their warmth with you.

Tender eyes met your wet ones and stared as their owner’s voice made its way through the noise of your sniffles and hiccups. He said, “It’s alright. I'm here. Talk to me, hmm?”

You answered his plea with a small nod, before wiping your tear stained skin and hugging him again. He smelt like home. You took a deep breath, greedily feeding your lungs with his lovely scent.

He hugged you back, wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling your body closer to his. He pressed light kisses on your temple, patiently waiting for you to talk.

“I had a really scary nightmare. so, so scary- I woke up, didn’t find you there- then…then I remembered the fight we had earlier. I…I thought I lost you- I'm sorry. sorry for the stupid things I said earlier. I love you so much! please don’t leave. please..”

Your voice quivered with fresh tears ready to be spilled again. Yoongi started hushing you as soon as he noticed that you were working yourself up.

Squeezing you in his arms, he whispered “I never left, and I never will.”

“I’m all right, nothing happened to me, see?” he leaned away just enough to allow you to take a quick look at his body, then added, “a stupid fight is not going to make me leave. I love you way too much for that, and I'm sorry for hurting you too.”

He could still read fear and uncertainty all over your face, and he didn't like that. He knew that you trusted him, and he didn't doubt your love for him.

At first, he didn't get it. He didn't understand the insecurities, the anxiety and the nightmares you suffered from especially after the inevitably worst of arguments that happened between you and him. But after longer and deeper talks, with you expressing your feelings and him listening with careful ears, it made much more sense to him.

Sometimes he hated himself for triggering your alarms and making it harder for you, but he knew it was neither his fault nor was it yours.

Growth and pain are two key elements that come arm in arm with love, and fights are an unpreventable part of any kind of relationship. For all that, he always ended up blaming himself for making you question your worth to him when he can't even sleep without you happily cuddling his side.

Softly, lovingly, he started prepping tender kisses over your cheeks, nose, forehead, chin, temples, all over your flushed face.

It worked like watching waving fields of green wheat dancing with the wind, your storm started to slowly die down and your heart felt at ease again. slowly, but definitely.

Smiling ever so affectionately, Yoongi sealed his reassurance with a loving kiss that consumed you whole, and it left the corners of your mouth curving up in a dazzling smile. You nuzzled his chest and sighed.

“I really hate fighting with you.” you mumbled into his clothed chest, drained and light headed from all the crying and nearly-a-panic-attack you went through.

“I know, I'm sorry. I hate it too." he whispered back.

There was a pause of comfortable silence, with both of you breathing each other in, before he wondered aloud: “did you fall down the stairs? are you okay?”

You chuckled breathily at his question, recalling the hysteria he had to deal with just a few minutes ago. But Yoongi was there, right beside you. your arms were tightly wrapped around his torso, right by your side.

He had some kind of exceptionally irrepressible magic in those fierce eyes and that gummy smile of his, you inarguably couldn’t be more grateful for that.

“I'm alright. Was too busy crying, I didn’t even feel a thing to be honest.” you said, and he giggled.

“I love when you’re clumsy like that, but please be more careful, muffin. Can’t have you hurting yourself because of me even more." Even with your face buried into the crook of his neck, you could feel and hear the heavy pout in that comment.

Huffing, you leaned away with furrowed brows and a strict gaze. Yoongi gulped. Hesitation took over him, yet he knew that honesty is the only thing that must be present to drive this conversation to an end.

Honestly brings clarity, he found himself reminding himself of that very often.

"as long as we take care of each other, it's okay. I love you." you affirmed, and perhaps Yoongi almost teared up because of the way you looked at him right then and there. He wouldn't utter a word to spoil that information out loud, though.

The shy grin and the flushed cheeks you were met with were worth risking the entire world and its eight billion residents. You couldn't help but smile and pull him into another hug.

"This is great and all, but my butt is numbed. I think there's no blood flowing down there anymore," he said, his heart swooning when you giggled at his humorous change of topic, so relieved that he was finally able to hear your brightness again.

"Let's go back to rest, darling." He stood up, grabbed your hand and squeezed it in his, then gently pulled your body up and dragged you to your shared bedroom, where everything and everyone else meant little to nothing at all as you laid in each other's arms.

[mortish-writes]

some reassurances!!! i'm honestly glad you wrote in the zealot route alongside the heretic. i'd argue, from what i've seen, the zealot is pretty popular and she's a breath of fresh air in the genre. as someone personally religious (not christian), its nice to see someone navigate their fate and believe in it, but also come to terms with how it's been abused, revised, etcetera. also, opens the possibility zealot would be into other religions outside the confines of her own, which i find interesting. her also getting an option to hold out until marriage because of her own trauma as a bastard is also juicy and to be fair reflects how some people irl are. it's realistic for people to have misgivings about new arrangements that challenge their beliefs and to still hold onto them, despite revelations, because they decide this aspect at least is still worth keeping,,, zealot mc also has a point bastards won't be treated well and society won't be kind (and she's not hurting someone in choosing not to fornicate until marriage is involved besides the plot). gives her more control of the situation too, as you mentioned, and honestly makes her more proactive. heretic is sweet and deserves a hug, and i do like her, but the biggest reason I find zealot more fun and interesting is because she's punching the plot than just reacting to it like heretic, who's getting the plot's punches (i usually love angst, but imo zealot shapes the plot a bit more than heretic and it works better as an if for me),,, also, her character development will outwardly be more prominent. i can't wait to make her love being a mom and admit she loves these brutes! and that's the other thing too: i prefer her relationship to the guys vs. the heretic's because of taste, especially with valdricht.

so while you probably could've be further along if you just stuck to the heretic, imo it was the zealot who we were first introduced to and made us interested in the game! she still has her fans and i'm really grateful we have more than one way to play the MCs, especially with cult route coming up! sorry, this was long, i just wanted to come and bat for my girl a little bit because she's a big reason i got into the game and i find her more relatable and dynamic.

Wow, I was just about to head to bed and I'm so glad I checked Tumblr first. This is so thoughtful and I really needed to hear this. There's been this invisible gremlin on my shoulder all week grumbling "you could already be on night 10 if you hadn't added another route."

Even though the Heretic route is canon I actually love the Zealot route. I think a lot of times religious characters are written derisively (unless they're like nature worshipers or something) as if they're just mindless sheep. One of the things I really like about the Zealot is that she approaches everything from the framework of her faith, but she's also intelligent and open to learning new things. Far from being mindless, she simply lacks an alternate framework of understanding, and part of her character arc will involve developing that.

At the risk of getting a little too personal, I was raised by a pagan mom in a deeply Christian multi-generational household. Most of my childhood was my mom and my aunt battling for my soul. Weekends were a mix of Bible school and learning to channel energy into crystals. While other kids were playing tag, I'd be sitting in a tree contemplating whether my aunt was crazy or my mom was going to Hell. As an adult, I look back more favorably on my upbringing because it gave me an appreciation for both people of faith and the irreverent folks who give the finger to organized religion.

One of the things I particularly love about the Zealot MC is that her faith gives her the willpower to be more assertive with Valdricht and Serax. She has a better sense of her personal boundaries and she's snarkier even as her former faith is being eroded and replaced with The Weaver's cause. There are also other nuances to her character which I won't spoil, but will reveal how her dedication to her faith made her stronger and more resilient.

At the same time, I love how when the Heretic MC reflects on the same memory as the Zealot, hers is colored with skepticism and a degree of nuance that the Zealot simply isn't capable of. It's clear that she has this deep urge for self-expression and exploration that have been stifled within the confines of the Elodari faith. There's so much potential waiting to burst free when she finally breaks out of that shell.

Anyway, pretty long but it was a really thoughtful message and I'm grateful <3

[barksenji]

DÉJÀ VU: YOU'RE A DUMBASS, SANS.

I'm starting to think that I probably should make a tag for this. What do you guys think? Again, Déja Vu is a Dusttake from Dusttale that focuses more on Sans' paranoia and mental decline. Hope you enjoy this one. Lol.

WILDLY improved version on AO3, I encourage you all to read it there;

As soon as Alphys saw Sans, she sensed something wrong with him. He was slouching like always, hands stuffed deep in his hoodie, but he seemed oddly restless. His grin was still there, but it was stretched too thin, like it might shatter any second. And when he spoke—

"hey, alph. got a sec?"

His voice was off. Too stiff. Too careful, like every word took effort to hold together.

He hesitated before handing her the papers. He’d asked her to review something about the timeline—something about resets—but what she got was barely legible. It was a mess—fragments of text scratched over one another, formulas spilling into margins like they'd been written in a panic.

"Uh... Sans—what is this?"

"I told you, it's about the timeline," he muttered. His eye lights flicked nervously between Alphys and the pages in her hand. "something’s off. It's not right. like an… an echo? or, uh, a ghost? but without the sheet."

Alphys frowned, flipping through the pages awkwardly. The words were a blur. They made no sense.

"N-no! I mean, I get that you're talking about, uh... resets? b-but this—this doesn't make sense. I can't read it."

She made a brief pause.

"S-sorry."

Sans gave a dry chuckle, his hand pointing shakily to a specific formula with a bony phalanx.

"Sure it does. It’s easy, like Sunday morning... except it’s not a song. Heh."

R = T(∞) - T(0). The page read.

"A reset should erase everything, right? but it doesn't. something sticks. something stays behind. why?"

"Uh— you say something stays?"

"yeah. look at this."

His finger slid to another part of the page. Alphys squinted, trying to follow.

1/(T - R) → ∞ as T → R.

"When the timeline approaches the restart point, something happens. something weird. something that shouldn’t. a singularity, maybe? quantum collapse? a mistake? a... a probability? or—oh—wait—it's a choice. is that it? That must be it."

Alphys tried to keep up. She really did. But Sans was jumping between ideas too fast, like his mind was racing on parallel tracks that never fully met.

"Sans… I think you need to rest."

His hands clenched into fists. He was shaking.

If someone said the same fucking thing again, he swore to god—

"no."

His voice came out sharp. Too sharp.

"just… please. help me, okay?"

Alphys stiffened. Sans never asked for help in these kinds of things. Never. But the way he looked at her—strained, his eyes wide with exhaustion, the almost pleading undertone—made her throat tighten.

"A-ah... O-okay. I'll do what I can."

For a second, his tension seemed to ease. Then, before she could react, he pulled her into a hug.

"thank you."

His voice was quiet, trembling like a leaf in the wind.

"god. thank you so much."

Alphys froze.

"I-it’s nothing, Sans."

———

It wasn’t long before he was back in the lab.

This time, something had changed. There was an unspoken understanding between them, heavy in the air.

Genocide.

Neither spoke for what felt like an eternity. And then—

"Sans—I checked your notes and—I couldn’t—"

"I need you to use the determination extractor on me."

Alphys felt her breath hitch in her chest.

"WHAT?!" She nearly dropped her clipboard. "How—how do you even—"

"buddy, i need you to do it. right now. or i'm going to do something real stupid."

There was something frantic in his voice, like he was running out of time. Like he’d already made up his mind, and these were just formalities.

"You’re out of your mind!" Her voice cracked. "It wasn’t made—it wasn’t made for monsters, Sans! I could kill you! It won’t work—"

Sans grabbed her shoulders—too rough, too sudden—and Alphys barely had time to process the desperation in his grip before she saw it.

The lights in his eyes burned red. A deep, searing red with the faintest flicker of sky blue, like a dying ember.

My god. So it was true.

"alphys. i need it. i need you to do it now. or i’m gonna do it myself."

There was a moment—an awful, fleeting moment—where she almost caved. His voice, his expression, the sheer need in his words…

But she couldn’t. She couldn’t let him do it. She wouldn't be able to forgive herself if something went wrong again.

"You know what? It’s okay. Yeah, it’s fine—do whatever you want, pal. i—yeah."

Before she could react, Sans turned away—

—so she grabbed him.

She clung to him tightly, shaking.

"I-I’m not going to let you do it! Please, Sans. The risk is too great." She begged. "We can—we can fix this together! We can keep looking for answers—"

"i’m tired of looking, alphys."

His voice barely rose above a whisper.

"i just—"

A pause. A breath.

"i just wanna forget."

And then he was gone.

A shortcut. A flicker of blue light. And when Alphys tried to follow—

The entrance to the True Lab was blocked. Thick, towering bone walls sealed every path.

Her stomach twisted.

"Sans… what are you doing?"

---

The machine loomed before him.

Even looking at it made something in his soul twist. He knew what this thing did. What it had done. But he pushed that feeling aside.

There was work to do.

He wouldn't have to give a shit if he didn't remember anything in the first place.

He wouldn't have to care.

The thing was, the system wasn’t built for someone like him. It was locked behind layers of security—redundant checks, energy barriers, biometric scans. He spent what felt like an eternity picking it apart, bypassing one system after another, forcing the piece of trash to acknowledge him as an eligible subject.

Finally—

The machine hummed to life.

Sans didn’t hesitate. He stepped into the containment chamber, bones heavy, sockets dark.

The process began immediately.

First—the scan. His soul flickered into visibility, bright and trembling in his chest. He barely had time to take in the sight before—

Pain.

A searing, pulling, wrong sensation as the machine latched onto his essence, analyzing, deconstructing. His soul shuddered under the weight of it.

Then—the extraction.

Hooks digging into him, yanking, ripping. A deep, awful tearing sensation that cracked through his form. His body trembled violently. He couldn’t breathe—couldn’t think—

It hurt. God, it hurt so much.

And then—the liquidification process.

Determination seeped out of him, pooling into the tubes. The bright red substance siphoned away like it was nothing. Like he, once again, was nothing.

His vision blurred. His thoughts slowed. His hands—his body—his soul—

He barely stayed conscious.

And then, he woke up.

his hands instinctively reached toward his soul. His fingers trembled, his breath erratic, the overwhelming sense of panic tightening around his chest.

Realization hit him like a truck.

...No way. No fucking way.

He scrambled out of bed, disoriented and desperate, rushing toward his drawer. He pulled it open with frantic hands. He yanked out a mirror. His breath caught in his throat as he held it up—

"SANS! WAKE UP, YOU LAZYBONES! WE HAVE WORK TO DO! MAYBE TODAY, WE'LL FINALLY CATCH A HUMAN!"

No. Fucking. Way.

Across resets?

...Really?

...How?

Why?

The questions slammed into his mind. For a moment, there was a brief flicker of fascination, even curiosity. In any other situation, he might’ve lingered on those thoughts, but those feelings were quickly drowned out by the crushing weight of devastation.

He wished he’d just melt away, like all the others.

"...Sans?"

His gaze shifted, his eyes hollow with a distant kind of sorrow.

"You're a dumbass."

"Yeah, yeah. I know, I know."

"I know, Paps. I know."

Imagine realizing that even if you get rid of your determination, it'll just respawn next reset. Couldn't be me! The determination extractor did not extract the determination, sadly. It did however worsen his mental state. Yippee! Hooray!