#that sounded a lot more concerning than I wanted it to | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

redyarns · 2 days ago

Text

caught in the undertow

Chapter: 5/?

Rated: E

Relationship(s): Optimus Prime/Megatron, Sentinel Prime/Bumblebee

Summary:

When Megatron, leader of the rebellion, escaped from prison, everybot knew one thing, and one thing only: he stole an innocent with him.

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"I'm not a sheep, how dare you!" Orion hissed, bristling at the insult.

"Oh, really?" Megatron drawled. His red optics glanced up again, and Orion's glossa went dry.

Scrap.

Who knew the cruel and ruthless leader of the blasphemous rebellion was so... handsome?

Act I, Scene X: Float Like a Butterfly…

Bee purposefully turned off all of the live feed cameras the two times that they wound up doing this, even though it was a pain to set up a feedback loop and maintain a steady visual of footage that he used from previous recordings. A lot of work was required, but it minimized the risk of anything new accidentally getting recorded, which would definitely result in being demoted even more (something which Bee wasn't even sure was possible), or worse.

Though Bee knew the worst punishment was reserved only for criminals like the rebels, it still made his spark stutter in anxiety over the thought that there was a high chance that he and Orion could end up in one of the smaller prisons scattered throughout Iacon.

“What’re you thinking about, Bee?”

Bee blinked as he looked over to find Sentinel sitting on the floor, a position definitely not dignified for someone of his station. Looking at him now, even with his legs crossed and his back curled forward as he laid his chin on his servo, it was easy to glean that he was an aristocrat.

Sometimes, Bee didn’t understand how they became friends. It was honestly a bit of a blur, but, he thought with a fond ex-vent, it had definitely been Orion’s fault.

“Nothing,” Bee said after realizing he had been silent for too long. He glanced over his shoulder plate again, gnawing on his bottom derma as he stared at the frozen frame of Megatron still in his cell. It was just a single picture Bee had taken to act as a cover for any trails they might leave behind, but just that motionless image was enough to make him shudder.

It was made even worse by the idea that Orion was in there, with Megatron, the city's most wanted criminal.

“Uh, what do you think they're talking about?” Bee asked, shuffling closer to Sentinel, as if being in proximity with his friend would take away the heat of the monitor, the reminder that Orion was possibly getting beaten up or stomped on or whatever else it was that rebels liked to do.

Sentinel’s wings twitched. They stiffened slightly and then forcefully soothed themselves, which meant Sentinel had unintentionally moved them and was trying to cover up the fact, but Bee knew better. That particular flinch meant that Sentinel was anxious; it wasn’t uncommon to see him as such, but still.

Bee worried.

“Who cares,” Sentinel muttered petulantly. His voice was gruff and he seemed to be more concerned with sounding annoyed than being honest, but when Bee wandered closer and his finials waved hopefully, Sentinel sighed like he was doing a huge labor and begrudgingly crossed his legs, letting Bee climb into his lap with a happy chirp. “It doesn’t matter what they’re talking about. All Orion has to do is stuff the energon down his throat and he’ll be out, easy.”

“Right. Easy.” Bee echoed, and they exchanged hesitant glances, an undercurrent of doubt rising.

It wasn’t like Bee was stupid, or blind. He knew that Orion was being weird about Megatron, and Sentinel, who was probably the most observant out of all of them, definitely saw it too. There was always a distracted look on Orion's face whenever the subject of the rebel came up, and it wasn’t an expression of disgust or anger.

It was just… contemplation. Curiosity. And Bee knew personally just how dangerous Orion was whenever he became curious about something, and he also knew how dangerous Megatron was, period. So when those two things combined together, he couldn’t even begin to predict what would happen.

“He’s been acting weird,” Bee whispered, his legs hanging over the side of one of Sentinel’s thighs while his back rested against his arm. Like this, Bee could press his audial gently to a side of Sentinel’s chassis, and if he listened carefully, he could pick up the steady beats of his spark. “I’m not imagining it, right?”

For a moment, Sentinel didn’t speak. He was so still that if Bee didn’t hear the soft way he was venting, he would have believed he was a statue. Finally, Sentinel huffed out a slow breath, and his servo on his patella tightened its grip as he said, “no, you’re not. But don’t worry about it, okay? You know him. He’s always a little strange.”

“Not like this,” Bee muttered. “He’s not - it’s - Sentinel, what is this?”

He was immediately distracted by the sight of a bruise. A fresh one, judging by how it was a dark blue color, and Bee’s processor flicked up the memory of when they had met only a sol ago, when Sentinel definitely did not have a fist-shaped injury right on the top of his chassis plate.

“It’s nothing,” Sentinel said quickly. His servo reached up and firmly covered it, and he smiled at Bee, a charming half-grin that showed his dimple, and he said, “don’t worry. I’m fine.”

��You are not fine,” Bee cried out, leaning back so he had a wider view of his friend. A new bruise on his arm; a scratch on his neck cables; the chipping of paint on his shoulder that revealed soft silver underneath. Holy slag. These weren’t just injuries from scuffles or tripping, they were - “who’s been hurting you? Sentinel!”

“No one is hurting me!” Sentinel said in exasperation, looking away and deliberately not making optic contact. His wings were twitching again, frigid and jerking as they fought against their master’s attempts to control them. He ex-vented slowly and muttered, “just leave it, Bee. Don’t be dramatic.”

Bee made a wounded noise at that, and he knew Sentinel felt guilty as soon as the aristocrat flinched and tried to reach for him when Bee stood up from his lap and immediately crowded himself closer to the console, but he didn’t care, he didn’t care about the way Sentinel was looking at him, all soft and achy and hurt, and Bee wanted to cry.

“You and Orion always try to keep things from me.” Bee sobbed, and he felt his finials droop immensely as he sniffled like a sparkling and looked to the side. He couldn't stand knowing that Sentinel felt guilty, because Bee was well aware of how much his friends hated seeing him so upset.

But why did it matter? If they hated making him so sad, why did they keep doing it?

Bee just wanted things to be back to where it was. Before Orion was more occupied with a criminal than the bots who had stood by his side for vorns, and before Sentinel kept coming back to them sporting new injuries and insisting that they were nothing.

“Bee,” Sentinel croaked. The sound of him standing up and coming closer just made Bee look to the side even more, stubbornly refusing to turn his helm as Sentinel ex-vented heavily and ran a giant servo gently across Bee's side. “Come on, don't be like this. I didn't mean to say it like that, it came out wrong. I just…”

Bee sniffed. It was a pitiful sound, and Sentinel made another soft, wounded click of static from his voicebox.

“You have to understand. I don't deliberately keep things from you,” Sentinel murmured, his digits stroking across Bee's hip, like he always did back when they were stupid teenagers and Orion did something that got them in trouble and Bee sought comfort in Sentinel. Fragger. He knows my weak spots, some bitter part of Bee muttered. “But some stuff has to remain confidential.”

“Go away,” Bee said miserably.

“Bee.” Sentinel sighed.

“Go,” Bee repeated.

“How exactly are you two going to get home if I'm not here?” Sentinel asked in disbelief.

That finally made Bee whirl around, and he threw his servos up as he exclaimed, “I don't know! We'll walk! We'll plummet to our deaths, and that'll be the end of that! It's not like you can even attend our crappy cremation ceremonies, not when you're too ashamed to show anyone that we're friends!”

Sentinel looked like Bee had struck him.

Bee immediately clasped his shaky digits to his intake, his optics wide and filled with tears as they slowly spilled over, warm and pooling into the seams of his servos as he whispered, “oh, Primus, I-I didn't mean that. I'm sorry. Oh, Sentinel, I…”

“It's fine,” Sentinel said gruffly.

“Sen,” Bee said weakly.

They stood there, cooling fans whirring and the air distinctly thick with tension. Bee felt awful, like a grounder had run him over under their wheels, and the worst part was knowing that Sentinel and Orion never did any of this on purpose. They loved him, he knew they did; they loved him so much that they always kept coming to help him or rescue him from situations he caused from his own clumsiness, and Bee was so sad.

He slowly let his optics drift down again, lingering on the bruise that stained Sentinel's chassis. Hesitantly, Bee took a step forward, and when Sentinel didn't back away, Bee sighed and traced the fist-shape of the injury as he muttered, “it kind of looks like a heart.”

Sentinel vented harshly. For a klik, he didn't speak, and Bee thought that he was truly well and pissed off. But then Sentinel breathed in, and when he grabbed Bee's wrist, it was gentle, and his thumb slowly rubbed circles into the thin and vulnerable protoform there as he said, “yeah?”

“Yeah,” Bee said. He tentatively climbed into Sentinel's lap again, leaning the side of his helm on his chassis and staring at the bruise. It was such an ugly color on the otherwise brilliant polish and paint of Sentinel's frame. Bee hated looking at it. “You seem different.”

Sentinel didn't move from his perfectly still position sitting down, but there was a small twitch of gold out the corner of Bee's vision as his wings flinched. Sentinel cleared his throat. “Do I?”

“Mhm,” Bee mumbled.

Sentinel's gaze never wavered as he stared blankly at the monitors. There was something about his voice, something both flat and hard that Bee had never heard before, and he said, “maybe bots change.”

Bee clung to him tighter after that.

About fifteen kliks later, when Orion crawled out of the vent with a disturbed expression on his face and without any regard for the way both Bee and Sentinel sat together in stony silence, that was when Bee truly knew that things had changed.

He wished it never did.

Act I, Scene XI: You’re a Hot Shot, Baby

Sneaking back into the reception was honestly a pain in the aft, and Sentinel was already aggravated by Orion’s strange behavior as it was. His paint prickled with the uncomfortable realization that something had definitely happened in that cell, but even worse, Orion hadn’t talked about it.

Despite Orion’s blatant disregard for rules or protocol, he always conformed to the unspoken laws of their friendship with each other as well as Bee. Always be honest with each other. It was a testament to their loyalty to each other, their unwavering faith… Nevermind the fact that Sentinel was deliberately keeping from them his near deathly training schedule.

He reasoned with himself that it was necessary to keep them from finding out about it, even if Bee had come way too close to finding out after carefully observing his injuries up close and asking too many questions for Sentinel to dodge completely. In his defense, Bee was very hard to lie to; he did that weird, big-optic thing and his finials drooped and his purring was just so sad -

Regardless, the point remained. Sentinel knew he couldn’t tell his friends the reality of his daily life, how hard training was, how often he got tossed around like a mere used doll. Before, he had spent most of his physical spars with Councilman Sunstreaker, as he was the most proficient at combat aside from Ultra.

But after Sentinel’s little… scene… at Ultra’s morning banquet, his mentor had decided that Sentinel’s preliminary training with Sunstreaker was over, and instead went straight into what he liked to call “lessons of the real world”.

They were brutal lessons. Harsh ones. Sentinel spent more time in Dr. Ratchet’s office than he did in his own berthroom. In particular, his left wrist still twinged if he twisted it a little too far, which had been a result of Ultra witnessing the way Sentinel tried to help a miner when they tripped in front of him and scuffed their patella caps to the point they started to slowly bleed energon.

“You are the future Prime, Sentinel,” Ultra had said, glaring down at Sentinel as he vented shallowly on the ground in front of him. His wrist had snapped in a decidedly disgusting manner, and his armor had dented horribly around his arm. Ultra was simply too strong, and Sentinel too weak. “Do not ever lower yourself like that again. You’re supposed to set an example.

“You disappoint me.”

Just thinking about it honestly had Sentinel wilting. If he couldn’t even uphold the expectations of his mentor who had guided him and supported him all this time, what would his friends think? At least Ultra still gave him chance after chance even with all his failures, but his friends didn’t know how hard he struggled, nor how completely useless he felt.

He was meant to be the next Prime, but he couldn’t even handle a little training with Ultra. How was he going to defend Iacon and uphold the Prime legacy if he couldn’t do at least that much? It haunted him how Ultra had looked down on him, as if Sentinel had been nothing more than dust at his pedes, and he knew that if Orion or Bee ever glanced at him like that, he would truly break.

He sniffled a little, blinking back tears as he leaned against a wall and slumped pathetically while sipping slowly at a cube of high grade energon he had managed to grab from the tray of a passing waiter.

The reception was in full swing, and the doors to Ultra’s mansion were propped wide open as some of the party goers spilled out from his home and out into his yard. Various mechs and femmes were sitting on the ground or steps, chatting with each other cheerfully as they clinked energon cubes and reminisced how good it felt to be part of yet another Ceremony.

Sentinel had tried to plaster on a smile as he made his way back inside, waving to those who greeted him and offering short nods to the ones he knew a little better, but he couldn’t hide the dread inside his spark as he had slipped back inside and ignored the voice inside of him that said that he certainly hadn’t enjoyed another Ceremony.

Inside, it was easier to blend in, and he tried not to let it bother him that no one had seemed to notice that he had left and come back. He had timed it right and slipped out just as Hot Rod had been swarmed with congratulatory messages and servo shakes, his own brief congratulations and well wishes already given, so Sentinel should have viewed it as a blessing that he had snuck away and crawled back in with no one the wiser.

It shook him, though. He was easily one of the tallest mechs there but he felt small. Invisible. It had been different when he'd been with his friends. His armor still ached where Bee had touched him, and it was easy to recall the soft, almost wispy way the miner’s small digits brushed against the numerous bruises and dents on his plating.

It was just as easy to remember the way Bee had smelled, like sweet nectar and that same scent of ash all miners seemed to have. But with him, it had been a rather saccharine mix, and Sentinel stared down at the energon in his servo, wondering if Bee had really noticed him.

Had he seen him? Taken him in for who he was? How? Sentinel didn’t even know what the frag was going on with himself, so could Bee even possibly fathom any of it?

Primus, Sentinel felt like a real piece of fragging work seeing Bee cry like that. The smallest mech was easily the most emotional out of their group of three, but that didn't necessarily mean he cried the most (that was Sentinel, unfortunately).

Sentinel honestly hadn't meant to upset him like that, and he hated himself deeply, immensely, for doing so. Even now, his spark felt like it was eating itself alive, and he didn't know how to fix it, how to fix himself so he stopped messing up and so he could say sorry to Bee like he deserved and stop lying to his friends, his friends who loved him more than anything and the friends who he would die for -

Slag. Sentinel dragged a servo down his face and pinched the bridge of his nasal ridge, a migraine already forming behind his optics as he did. He couldn’t handle this; the bright lights of the mansion were blinding and hazy, and the loud chatter did nothing to alleviate his stress.

Tomorrow, he decided. He would reach out to Bee after the miner had a chance to recuperate and recharge, and Sentinel would offer him an apology, as well as a tentative plan for the both of them to hang out together, alone, so they could get back to where they were before.

Sentinel's processor felt like it was going to explode with all his whirling emotions. Even worse, he couldn’t stop thinking about Megatron.

Just the name was enough to have his paint crawl.

Sentinel had heard, even witnessed, the atrocities that slageater had committed along with the rest of his blasphemous rebels. Those files were within his level of clearance, and he recalled the numerous sleepless nights he had spent perusing them, drinking in the sight of mutilated bodies, atrocious crime scenes, all while holding down his energon and trying desperately not to throw it all back up.

It made him uncomfortable, more than he could put into words, knowing that Orion was well aware of all that and yet still chose to feed Megatron. On some level, maybe Sentinel could understand; even if he despised Megatron and his rebellion, the idea of letting anyone just starve like that in a cold cell was… disconcerting.

Maybe even disturbing. But at the same time, why, Primus, why did it have to be Orion who had to do it?

I didn't even know they used starvation as an interrogation tactic, some part of Sentinel's processor mumbled in uncertainty. He winced into his cube of energon and hoped no one caught it as he glanced around himself frantically and felt his wings droop in relief, as if anyone had the ability to read his mind.

The small part of his processor, the one that always sounded like Orion and made Sentinel feel horrible any time he had to return to his Prime training, whispered about how it was cruel that Megatron was being starved. How even if he was a prisoner at Titan's Hold, didn't he deserve dignity? Compassion?

Megatron has never wielded compassion in the entirety of his siege to raze down our city, a fiercer, louder voice reprimanded him harshly. It was reminiscent of Ultra's sharp inflection, and Sentinel set down the half-empty cube on a nearby table, feeling slightly nauseous as he did. Do not fall for his lies.

Right, Sentinel thought, shaking his helm. Right. If Ultra and Prowl decided to starve Megatron, that was their prerogative, and definitely justified. They had their reasons, reasons that they didn't tell him because he still wasn't worthy enough to know them, a thought that made him deflate slightly.

Regardless, he couldn't afford to sympathize with the enemy. That was crazy, and blasphemous, and - Primus, he was a terrible mech. He was going to become Prime and he couldn't even properly condemn a bot for the crimes he definitely committed.

It was times like these that Sentinel realized how utterly miserable he was.

“Sentinel.”

Sentinel jerked, his wings automatically stiffening and trying to tuck as close to his dorsal plates as they could in a natural reaction to the low, commanding voice that always made his servos shake and his glossa dry.

He bowed, sweeping his arm across his abdomen like he’d been taught to do in etiquette class, and he desperately hoped that his voice wasn’t trembling as he said, “good evening, my lord.”

Ultra Magnus slowly swept his optics down Sentinel’s frame, and it didn’t escape him that he wasn’t smiling. Before, with the other nobles, Ultra had been dazzling and charming, smirking as he told witty jokes or purring flirtations as he recounted the past Ceremonies and held beside him a flustered Hot Rod the entire time.

Now, he was anything but. His face was distinctly neutral, and with Ultra, that meant he was displeased. He didn’t look away even as Sentinel slowly drew his arms behind himself and clenched his servos tightly, his palms dripping with coolant as he realized that that gleam in Ultra’s glare meant many things.

He saw me leave, Sentinel’s processor whispered frantically. He felt dizzy. He was going to throw up. He saw me leave, and he’s pissed. Slag. He’s going to beat the actual frag out of me in our next -

“Oh, my. Lord Ultra, are you planning on hogging the young Prime all to yourself, or is it okay for someone else to take a bite as well?”

Sentinel looked up again (when did his optics slide to the floor? He was always doing that, always staring down at his pedes when Ultra was around, and he knew Ultra hated it, and yet he still did it anyway - and Primus, Sentinel was an awful student, and awful mech - ) and blinked slowly as he recognized the gleaming pink paint job and sinful curves that often kept him awake at night.

“Miss Elita,” Sentinel said in a stilted voice, feeling decidedly off kilter and confused as Elita smiled slightly at him, sidling up close to Ultra’s side and hooking her servos around his arm.

She was tiny compared to him, and though most bots were, the size difference between his mentor and her was rather ridiculous as she lightly leaned her helm against Ultra’s forearm, glanced up at him, and said with a slight pout on her glossy dermas: “my lord, must you hide him away in such a drab corner such as this? With a paint job as good as his, he’s good enough to eat.”

She purred her last word, her engine revving with a quiet hum as she eyed Sentinel like he was the most enticing cube of energon in the room.

This time, when his glossa licked at the back of his dentae, his intake wasn’t dry because of Ultra.

“Elita,” Ultra said. His voice was lighter, a tone of slight surprise coloring his words, and he gave Sentinel one last sharp stare before he softened and smiled at the femme. Sentinel tried to ignore the sharp sting of fear that pricked his spark as he recognized the hidden message of his mentor’s look. We will discuss this later. “Have you ever been formally introduced to my pupil?”

“We’ve only met the one time,” Elita said elegantly, waving her servo and somehow making it look both relaxed and coy as she stared up at Sentinel with glimmering optics. When she leaned in slightly, her scent of foreign jubiline berries surrounded him. He didn’t want to admit just how much that smell continued to haze in and out of his dreams (whenever he managed to recharge, anyway). “But it certainly left a lasting impression.”

“I see.” Ultra arched an optic ridge and this time, when he looked down at Sentinel, it was not one of anger; it looked like he was almost impressed, and his touch was shockingly gentle, warm, as he raised a servo and rested it briefly on Sentinel’s shoulder plate. “Well, that’s to be expected. My Sentinel is a good conversationalist.”

“An invaluable asset as our future Prime.” Elita agreed.

“Indeed,” Ultra said, now looking pleased. It was honestly a miracle. These sols, Sentinel often felt like Ultra hated him rather than loved him, and it was the first time in cycles that Sentinel beamed up at his mentor in genuine happiness as Ultra chuckled. It was a buttery and deep sound, so reminiscent of the times when Sentinel was younger and more naive, and Ultra had been more forgiving. “Well, then, I’ll leave you two young bots to it. I believe Councilman Chromedome is about to overindulge, and I don’t think anyone wants to see him when he inevitably throws it all up.”

He ended his sentence with a wink to show it was all in good humor, and Sentinel felt like he was floating on a cloud as his mentor left, for once not scowling or frowning or acting like Sentinel was the worst thing to ever happen to him -

“You seem happy. Something you would like to share with me, my Prime?”

Sentinel nearly jumped out of his paint job as a servo, slim and clever, curled around his elbow joint and his entire frame rose at least several degrees (his temperature gauge was screaming) as Elita pushed her chassis lightly against his arm and nearly caused him to fall over with how her sweet scent filled his olfactory sensors.

Charge increased by 16%, his interface subsystem tried to ping his processor, which absolutely mortified him because what the frag did his system mean, charge increased by 16%? He frantically attempted to kick away the notification, plastering a smile onto his face and praying that Elita wouldn’t notice the strain in the corners as his subsystem continued to insist on its charge monitoring.

Frag, he was pathetic. The first femme he was interested in and he was about to make a complete tool of himself in front of her. If Orion were here, he would have laughed his aft off and called Sentinel all shades of stupid. It wasn’t like Sentinel was exactly blind, Elita was definitely putting off more than a few flirty signals, but Sentinel had never - he hadn’t -

Oh, I’m fragged, Sentinel whined in his helm as he said, “uh, just - happy to be here, Miss Elita. And, please, there’s no need to call me Prime. I haven’t even come close to finishing all my training.”

Elita hummed, and when her optics roamed across his frame slowly, he flushed as he realized it felt like she was stripping him bare and laying him out in front of her for the taking. Throughout his adolescent and adult years, he hadn’t exactly been oblivious to the attention he got, especially after Ultra and the council deemed him as the next Prime in training, but he hadn’t really given it much thought.

He always didn’t have enough time, was always more interested in focusing on his duties or sneaking out to meet with his friends, but - something was different this time. Maybe it was the overwhelming need he felt any time he was around Elita, who smelled so good and looked at him like he was the only thing worth paying attention to. Maybe it was his new schedule, chock full of brutal sparring and etiquette lessons, often leaving him with such little time that he didn’t even recharge most nights.

Or maybe it was the stress in knowing that he had, once again, deliberately disobeyed Ultra, the mech who had chosen him out of everyone else, the mech who had raised and cherished him, and snuck Orion into Titan’s Hold just so he could feed the one criminal who probably deserved to be starved.

Whatever it was, it had Sentinel’s walls crumbling like aluminum, and he was weak.

“I already see you as a Prime, so I don’t see any problem in addressing you as such,” Elita said carefully, quietly, her digit slowly tracing a shape into his arm and causing his spark to beat so wildly in his chassis that he felt like it was going to leap out of his throat. “Won’t you indulge me?”

“Oh,” he croaked. He cleared his voicebox, but when he spoke again, his words were husky, hoarse with his lust, and he was sure he wasn’t imaging the way her smile widened ever so slightly as he stuttered, “if that’s the way you feel, I - well, I don’t want to impose anything upon you - “

“Lord Sentinel!”

Sentinel didn’t know whether to feel relieved or annoyed at the joyous call of his name, and he leaned back from Elita, feeling his wings twitch with embarrassment as he realized he’d been so close to her helm that if he had drawn any closer, he would have kissed her.

Just the thought alone was enough to have coolant dripping down the back of his neck cables as he smiled politely and said, “Hot Rod. Enjoying your victory?”

It was a genuine question, tinted slightly with warmth as Hot Rod approached both of them with a grin on his face and a light fluster to accommodate it. Though Sentinel didn’t know the mech personally, the stuff he did know about him, he liked.

Hot Rod was a refreshing change of pace from the nobles. It most likely had something to do with the fact that he was only tier 12, an archivist who never really had a life outside of shelves and datapads and occasionally dust. But Sentinel liked to think it was because of how vibrant Hot Rod was - all the way from his outrageous paint job to his boisterous attitude, Hot Rod certainly didn’t look or act like someone of his caste level, and Sentinel felt a strange level of fondness for him.

He kind of reminded Sentinel of Orion, actually.

“Totally!” Hot Rod said enthusiastically, practically bouncing on the balls of his pedes as he beamed up at Sentinel so widely that his face plate had to be aching from it. “Can you believe it? I won! I mean, Primus knows I deserve it, but still! I thought Chromia would have me beat, you know? She’s awesome, I’m glad she isn’t pissed at me for scratching the slag out of her paint job. Oh, hello, ma’am! I’m Hot Rod.”

Elita smiled as she shook Hot Rod’s servo, which had been stuck out eagerly. “Hello, Hot Rod. I'm Elita-1. Your race was definitely the most exciting one I’ve seen yet.”

Hot Rod crowed in delight and immediately began to babble, both him and Elita unaware of Sentinel’s rising turmoil as he struggled to keep his smile on his face while guilt bubbled deeply within his spark. He couldn’t help but think back on his conversation with Orion during the race, when Orion had gotten upset over Hot Rod winning, and -

He was right, of course he was right. The whole thing sucked and it hurt and Sentinel felt so bad for this young, vital and bright young mech who was about to be shot into space and never return home. No one else seemed to share that same grievance, as no bot seemed even an iota less than thrilled that the Ceremony was approaching soon, but Sentinel…

Well.

That wasn’t his place to think about. (Even if he hated it. There, he said it, he hated it, Orion was right, this all fragging hurt and it was stupid and cruel and Hot Rod and Tracks and all the other trailblazers deserved better but what could Sentinel do, he wasn’t even Prime, and he probably never would be with how inadequate he’d been lately - )

“I wanted to thank you,” Hot Rod said sincerely, interrupting Sentinel’s quickly spiraling thoughts. The younger bot seemed sheepish, maybe even a little shy as he fidgeted lightly with his digits before he straightened up and gave Sentinel a bright, crooked grin that revealed a single dimple on his right cheek plate. “For earlier! You and your friend - whoever they are - definitely made this night a little more bearable. I was kind of nervous, but…”

He laughed. It was a quiet sound, surprisingly soft for a mech like Hot Rod, who had such a bright personality that it was hard to look away. Like this, it was a cold reminder of just how young he was, only a few vorns younger than Orion, and a couple more than Sentinel himself.

It took a moment of struggling for Sentinel's processor to wade through his memories of that sol to figure out what exactly Hot Rod was talking about. After a micro-klik, a belated memory of him hastily telling the young mech that a nameless friend of his wanted to wish him luck on his endeavors was drawn up, and Sentinel smiled again, this time slightly helplessly as he reached out and squeezed Hot Rod's shoulder.

Orion, Sentinel thought to himself, brushing his digits against Hot Rod's paint, almost trying to memorize the feel of his warm metal, and the softness of his protoform. You somehow reach mechs without even talking to them. I wish I was more like you.

“Hot Rod,” Sentinel said earnestly. “Good luck.”

Hot Rod beamed, and he was bouncing away, immediately inserting himself into a conversation with Chromia and Councilman Blurr, both of whom looked delighted by his presence, though Chromia did punch him in the arm with a smirk and said something that looked like that's for beating me, slagger.

“You must really like him,” Elita said, nuzzling even closer to Sentinel, who looked down at her and smiled as best as he could while trying to ignore his processor pinging him about yet another charge increase.

“He's very admirable,” Sentinel said, watching the way more and more nobles surrounded Hot Rod, who looked both flushed and proud as he raised a fist with his medal and there were various cheers and whistles throughout the area. “He deserved to win. I think he'll be missed, though.”

Elita tilted her helm. Her optics were sharper, less hazy, and she quietly asked, “by you?”

Sentinel blinked at the question. For a moment, he didn't know how to answer, and then he released a small vent as he realized that… “Yes. I think so. I don't know him that well, and we haven't met before this, but…”

He trailed off.

He sighed. It was a wistful sort of sound. “He reminds me a lot of my friend.”

“Your friend?”

“My dearest friend,” he said quietly.

The only one who's always had my back.

“Well,” Elita said slowly, and she was grabbing his servo and walking backwards. Somehow, she seemed to know where she was going, even without having to look over her shoulder. Her optics were shining with something, both hungry and full of a warmth he had never seen before, and she said, “do you know what I think, my Prime?”

“What?” He asked, a little breathless and a lot clumsy, as she pushed her pede back and it propped open a door out into the hallway. Just before they stepped through it, he looked back once, in time to see Ultra clasp a heavy servo to Hot Rod's shoulder, lean down, whisper something to him, and begin to lead him away.

The door swung closed, cutting off Sentinel's view of them, and he had an armful of femme as Elita suddenly reached up, wrapped her surprisingly strong arms around his neck, and tugged him down fiercely so she could kiss him.

He instantly felt dizzy, and just like that, all his worries, all his anxieties flew out of his helm and all he could think of was the way her chassis pressed against his, the feeling of her soft and yielding protoform under his digits as his servos scrambled to wrap around her waist, and the unbelievable sensation of her dermas against his.

She giggled, the sound light and airy as she continued to kiss him, leaving him cross-opticed and unaware of their surroundings as he was the one to go backwards this time, simply following her lead as she gently pushed him to go somewhere.

His wings hit what felt like a door, and he grunted lightly when she kicked it open, shoved at his chassis, and he fell down against the soft sheets of a berth - were they in one of the numerous guest berthrooms at Ultra's mansion? Oh, slag, he was going to be pissed if he found out that -

Sentinel's processor short circuited as Elita climbed on top of him, sat directly on top of his interface panel, and leaned down to kiss him again.

“Let me tell you what I think, my Prime, so listen carefully,” Elita whispered as her dermas, slick with their lubricant, slid off of his and trailed down to his audial, leaving kisses as she did, which made him shiver uselessly under her as his servos helplessly clutched at her hips. “Rod might be the victor, and your friend might be someone worth missing, but you - “

She moaned, low and barely audible and so sensual that he immediately bucked in response, his voice box crackling with static and garbling its words as she laughed quietly.

“You're the hot shot around here, my Prime,” she mumbled. She pressed a hot, flashing kiss to audial, and Primus, he was drunk on her. “Don't you ever forget it.”

Then she smiled, beautiful and succinct and all shades of lustful, as she slowly slid off of him and kneeled down just between his legs, which dangled down and had his pedes resting on the floor.

“Now,” she hummed, looking entirely pleased with herself as her small servos began to stroke his twitching thighs. She leaned forward and nuzzled his patella, and he gasped at the sensation.

“Open,” she said gently.

He shuddered and obeyed.

Act I, Scene XIII: Ya Like Jazz?

Orion knew immediately that something was up the moment he and Bee were gently dropped off of the rooftop of their stacks building and Sentinel didn't give them his usual hug before he took off again, flying through the air and his wings twitching minutely as he refused to look back.

Orion's optics narrowed as he watched him leave in the direction towards the center part of the city where the reception was being held at Ultra's mansion.

Bee, who had been strangely quiet the entire flight back, was staring at the ground, and his finials were drooping in that way that told Orion he was upset. No, not just upset, but about to cry, or - he looked closer, alarmed to see the faintest tear marks down the dullness of Bee's scuffed faceplates - already cried.

“Bee,” Orion said urgently, reaching out and grabbing his friend's wrist before he began to make his way to the door. Bee sniffled lightly, and Orion made a quiet, worried click at the back of his throat as he gathered him close and said, “what's wrong? Did something happen?”

“No,” Bee mumbled into his chassis. Despite his petulant response, he was clinging tightly to Orion, and he let out a small hiccup before he suddenly tugged himself away and scrubbed his arm across his optics. “‘M tired. I just wanna recharge.”

“Okay,” Orion said helplessly, watching as Bee trudged his way to the door and held it open. He refused to meet Orion's optics again, but it was clear that he was waiting for him, and so Orion heaved an ex-vent, realized that he wasn't going to get any answers from Bee, and carefully slipped past him, leading the way down the stairs and to the fiftieth floor, where their recharge bays were.

Luckily, Bee didn’t actually let any tears spill, since Orion often felt like his processor went to mush in his panic whenever Bee got upset to the point he bawled. Regardless, Orion made and filed away a note to demand Sentinel as to what happened between them while Orion had been with Megatron to leave behind streaks on Bee’s solemn face.

It was still early in the day, maybe only a few joors after highsol, so the floor was bustling with miners, all of whom were there at the same time since work had been canceled for the race. It was a bit of a mess, actually, and the air smelled musty, like energon dust and flakes of earth.

It was also loud, what with all the overlapping conversations going around, as well as the sounds of several mechs and femmes practicing their sparring by jabbing at bags full of iron shavings or each other. There was a particularly harsh sound of metal meeting metal when an infuriated Arcee tackled Cliffjumper to the ground, and Orion carefully stepped around them as their scuffle continued on the dirty floor.

They’re going to get dust in their optics, Orion thought wearily. And possibly rust-tetanus.

“Where the Pits have you two been?” Jazz asked from a bench near their recharge bays as Bee tiredly climbed into his own and immediately curled up. Within micro-kliks, he was snoring softly, his optics offline and his servo clenching tightly at his raggedy doll that Sentinel had stolen for him some vorns ago when they were still sparklings.

“Around,” Orion said vaguely. He regarded Bee carefully, his optic ridges furrowed into a frown as he reached out and gently brushed his digit tips against Bee’s forehelm, trying to rub out the upset wrinkle that had formed there. It worked, but Bee mumbled something that suspiciously sounded like a sniffle as he turned away and his venting deepened even more.

“Right, around,” Jazz said with a fair amount of amusement. He seemed at ease, with a towel around his neck cables and a cube of low refined energon in his servo. Orion tried not to stare at it, aware that his compartments were filled with a much higher quality kind; though he wanted to share it with him, there was no way he could explain how he got them without giving away his relationship with Sentinel.

“What’s with him?” Jazz continued, jerking his chin plate slightly towards Bee. He tilted his helm and said, “he looks like he just watched someone get unscrewed in front of him. Whoa, geeze, bud, are you okay?”

Jazz grunted a small noise of both surprise and effort as Orion collapsed onto the bench next to him, almost immediately drooping onto the other mech and groaning lightly as Jazz began to automatically massage at his shoulder plates.

Jazz swore softly and said, “what the frag is going on with you two? And Primus, Orion, you’re tenser than a damn coil! Haven’t you been going to the medbay? You know it’s protocol to go every few orns. If you’re too sick or injured and you get hurt on the job then it’s all our afts that have to look after you and make sure you don’t get yourself offlined.”

“As if Ricks would ever give me enough time off to get to the medbay, much less rest,” Orion retorted with a small laugh, though that quickly turned into a wince when Jazz mercilessly dug a thumb into a particularly hard knot and didn’t let up even when Orion punched him in the arm. “Ow! Primus, Jazz, you’re supposed to be massaging me, not torture me!”

“No, you’re supposed to be getting massaged by a professional, but you haven’t even gone to see a medic like you’re required to in at least half a vorn,” Jazz deadpanned in a way that suggested his optics were rolling behind his visor. At least he let his servos drop, a miracle considering Orion was about to develop a crick in his neck from how he kept flinching with each unrelenting dig at his plates. “You sure everything’s okay?”

Orion let his gaze drift back to Bee, who, like Orion, had been born and grown up in the slums and then eventually the stacks, so the constant noise around him didn’t even remotely rouse him in his recharge. It was better seeing him like this, resting and not keeping damn secrets from Orion.

But Orion knew he was being a hypocrite, and he was about to be a hypocrite again as he kept his intake shut and didn’t answer Jazz’s subtle but prodding question.

No, Orion’s processor wanted to scream. Everything is definitely not okay.

Bee and Sentinel were becoming more and more closed off around him, and he hated it. But he couldn’t even point it out, not without making it obvious that he was just as guilty when it came to keeping secrets from his friends.

It wasn’t like Orion wanted to lie to them, and well, it technically wasn’t lying, since it was really just… concealing the truth (a lie of omission, something in his helm hissed. It sounded too much like Sentinel again, and Orion felt a little sick) and trying to protect them.

And, really, what else could Orion do? It felt like the weight of the world was suddenly being pressed onto his shoulder plates, like he was the only one lifting up the sky and shaking underneath it as he did. He had never expected anything to come forth from his conversations with Megatron, since as much as Sentinel liked to tease and Ricks liked to accuse, Orion wasn’t stupid.

There was a chance, a very high chance, that everything Megatron had told him was a lie. A manipulation tactic to squirm under his paint job and make his veins race, to force his adrenaline to blow up and get him into trouble. And as much as Orion wasn’t stupid, Megatron wasn’t exactly unintelligent, either.

How could he be? No one stupid could just start a rebellion and then lead it so carefully that up until now, no bot had ever been caught. So if Megatron saw Orion, a foolish mech who was curious about him, who was sympathetic of him, then the smartest choice would be to try and sway him in his favor so that Orion would eventually do something idiotic, like break him out of prison.

Not that that would ever happen. Of course not. Orion knew well enough that Megatron was playing him, and that everything he said, his blatant seductions and his honeyed words, were being used to caress his audials and weaken his already admittedly soft resolve when it came to a mech he found so attractive.

Frag, Orion thought a little hysterically. He knew all of this, and his spark still yearned for answers. He had to see it for himself, figure out if Megatron really was lying to him or not, even though his processor screamed at him that the rebel was an inherent manipulator and would do anything to get Orion to believe him.

He let out a soft ex-vent, ignored the way Jazz looked at him with a small noise of skepticism, and tried to think about what Megatron had told him.

There was something about the Ceremony that Megatron wanted him to look into, and he had said that the archives might have the answer, an idea that almost had Orion groaning as he dropped his helm and ran a servo over the back of it in frustration.

The Golden Archives was considerably hard to get into. Not because it had guards or anything - the entire building of records was open to the public, so it was trivially easy to waltz inside, grab any kind of datapad, and spend the sol reading as much as your spark desired.

It was open to the public, yes, but only to bots who were caste level 10 or higher. None of the low caste bots were allowed in, since the middle and high level Cybertronians didn’t like to see the dirt and grime that most miners trailed in. There was also no need for it, since none of the low castes were given an education.

The only reason Orion and Bee even knew how to read, much less write, was because Sentinel made an effort to continuously sneak them tomes and educational texts as much as he could, either from the archives or from his own personal stash.

The archives were also in the most well-lit and populated part of the city, near the council hall and the highly monitored, luxurious neighborhoods of the noble caste bots. With his size, poor paint job, and constant scent of energon dust, it would be a miracle if he could even get to two streets over near the archives before getting caught and thrown into the civil prison for a sol or two.

Again.

Frag, this was impossible, some part of him screamed. He felt accusatory, angry, as an image of Megatron’s handsome facial plates wavered through his processor. The bucket of bolts was probably trying to teach him a stupid lesson or something, to show him that he shouldn’t stick his nasal ridge where it didn’t belong.

After all, Orion didn’t know how to get near the archives, much less inside. In fact, the only miner that Orion knew had ever managed to break in was -

Was…

Orion’s helm shot up and he stared at Jazz with wide, unblinking optics.

“Jazz,” Orion blurted out, reaching over and grasping Jazz’s elbow joint with an urgency that had his digits digging just a little too sharply into the soft protoform there. He leaned in close, their forehelms almost touching, and he said, “you - you’ve been there!”

“The frag?” Jazz’s visor scrunched as his optic ridges lowered. He frowned lightly and jostled his arm a little, but it only served to make Orion grip on tighter, and Jazz’s dermas pursed as he scowled and said, “dude, let up, you’re going to bruise me and I don’t need my team leader yelling at me again - “

“You’ve been to the archives.” Orion cut him off, smiling sheepishly in apology when Jazz huffed at the interruption and swatted harshly at his shoulder plate. Orion ignored the stinging pain of the hit and instead said, excitedly, “you know how to get in!”

“Yeah,” Jazz said slowly, clearly thinking that Orion had lost his mind as he leaned back slightly so there was more air in between them. By this point, he had given up on trying to get Orion to loosen his grip, and simply let his arm dangle uselessly over Orion’s lap as he said, “is there a reason why you’re looking at me like I’m highly refined energon?”

“Oh, right, good point. You should have some,” Orion said in an absentminded voice as he flipped open his compartment, tossed a glowing cube at Jazz, and ignored the mech’s yelp as he fumbled to catch it and immediately yelled how the frag had Orion gotten such an expensive portion.

The part of him that had been worried about Jazz asking too many questions about the energon (and therefore eventually about Sentinel) was impatiently waved off as Jazz immediately began to sip, a look of bliss sweeping across his face as he cooed something about how good it tasted and how it was loads better than their usual rations.

Orion’s processor was whirling rapidly as he thought quickly. He couldn’t believe how he forgot that Jazz was the only one out of the miners to not only have the balls to break into the archives, but do it so constantly that he was always sneakily trying to read a glowing datapad during the lune cycle and successfully pissing off all the mechs around him.

And, judging by how Jazz was literally licking the seams of the cube and bemoaning about how he drank it too fast, it seemed like he owed Orion a favor.

“Jazz,” Orion said again, his voice saccharine and coated in honey.

It immediately put Jazz on edge, who paused his glossa from swiping over the same face of the cube for the third time as he slowly lowered his servo, scrunched his visor, and said, “... uh huh?”

“You liked that energon, right?” Orion purred.

“Sure,” Jazz said cautiously. “It was good. Real good. Why're you acting so - “

“I can give you more,” Orion said, beaming as he leaned in and nearly smashed their nasal ridges together in his excitement. Oops. He fluttered his servo in some generous gesture, and he said, “tons more! Trust me, I have more than I need for myself. Listen. I'll give you two - three! Three cubes if you tell me how to get into the archives.”

Jazz didn’t respond. He clutched the empty cube to his chassis, and for a moment, Orion thought he would say no, and he felt his spark drop to his aft. But then Jazz glanced down again at the glass, made a soft, whining buzz at the back of his throat, and the hope was obvious in his voice as he hesitantly mumbled, “really?”

“Really.” Orion nodded firmly.

Another beat of silence.

“Four cubes,” Jazz said.

“Three.”

“Five.”

“That's not how this works.” Orion laughed.

“Five cubes,” Jazz said insistently, now seeming rather enthused himself as he leaned forward and gently knocked their helms together. There was a grin on his face, and it was in that moment that Orion remembered just how much of a slageating smile he had, all mischievous and laughing and smug. “And I not only tell you how to get into the archives, but I also keep my intake shut.”

Orion arched an optic ridge, but his dermas were twitching with his own smirk as he scoffed and said, “as if you wouldn't keep your intake shut anyway. Your aft's on the line if it’s let out that you break into the archives, you know.”

Jazz wiggled his digits. “Five.”

Orion huffed out a small laugh.

He reached forward and firmly shook Jazz's servo once. “Yeah. Five.”

Jazz laughed, and Orion threw a pillow at his face.

Act I, Scene XIV: Archive of Our Own

“The archives were rebuilt a couple dozen vorns ago, but they kind of just put the new one on top of the old one, so there’s a few passages left behind that the wreckers used when they were still constructing. You can squirm into one of those to get inside,” Jazz had said to Orion as soon as he had handed over the promised cubes and the both of them had wandered up to the rooftop of the stack building to avoid any nosy Nosedives.

“Isn't that a safety concern?” Orion had wondered. “I'm surprised that you even found that out. Wouldn’t there be locks to make sure something like that can't be used by someone they don't want to let in?”

Jazz had snorted and sipped at a cube. “I don't know about safety concerns, especially since you're about to do exactly that and break in like the little criminal you are. And yeah, there are usually locks, but…”

He had trailed off, looking a little uncomfortable, and Orion hadn’t wanted to prod, but eventually Jazz sighed, slumped slightly, and grumbled, “I, uh. I kind of have a friend who helps me out. Either way, the area should be unlocked. I'll contact my friend and tell him you want to get in, so it should be fine. Just don't run into him if you can help it, he's a total afthole.”

Orion's dermas had twitched in his amusement. “Sure. And who exactly is your friend that's willing to let you break into our city's sacred archives, huh?”

Jazz had given him a dry look and said, “why do you wanna break into said sacred archives?”

Orion had sheepishly relented and accepted the coordinates that Jazz forwarded to him without any more questions. The message had been clear: you keep your secrets, I keep mine.

With Jazz's instructions and coordinates now safely downloaded into his processor, Orion simply waited (a little impatiently, if he was being honest) as Helios lowered completely and Selene appeared. The lune cycle of Iacon was always quieter, darker, and only lit up by the colorful lights of skyscrapers.

It meant cover for his otherwise suspicious movements, so after pressing a small kiss to Bee's helm and watching him fondly as he mumbled in his recharge, Orion had slipped away and out of the stack building, aiming for nonchalance as he passed various miners who only gave him curious glances when he left.

Getting to the richer part of Iacon wasn't that hard, though the bullet train only went so far. Bots higher than level 10 were born with cogs, so they had no need for the train, which meant that as soon as Orion hopped off at the last stop, he was not only walking the rest of the way, but he had to be cautious about it.

Sticking to the alleys seemed like his best bet, since there weren't any lights there and he could press himself against walls and simply stay still as nobles or guards walked past him. He could have done without the grime that started to cover his frame or the debris that tried to get stuck under his pedes, but he had experienced way worse in the slums, so he only silently sighed and sucked it up.

Luckily, getting to the building itself was easy enough. The Golden Archives was a structure almost as big as the High Covenant Chamber, what with its golden topped dome as well as its pristine walls and columns made of white marble.

Orion, who was carefully flattened against the wall of a spa resort across the street, was filled with awe at the sight of the archives. It wasn’t like he had ever seen it in frame before, and it was just as magnificent as Sentinel described on the rare occasion he indulged Orion and Bee and liked to tell them a bit more about his world and personal life.

Sentinel would kill me if he saw me doing this, Orion thought with a small, weary chuckle as he glanced around him, made sure it was all clear, and silently slipped out of the shadows and briskly jogged to the hall.

Then again, so would Bee, probably. Orion had made the conscious decision to leave them behind not out of any malice or ill will, but simply because he knew they wouldn’t understand. He knew his friends more than he knew himself, and it hadn’t escaped him that they were starting to get worried about him.

In quieter moments, when he had more thoughts gathered to himself, maybe Orion could admit that he was also worried about him. This, breaking into the archives, deliberately carrying out Megatron’s orders - it was nothing like he’d ever done before. Sure, he got into trouble more times than he liked to admit, and maybe he had the lowest joors since last accident tallies out of any of the other miners, but this was more than some petty prank or playful rule-breaking.

This was real. Unnervingly so.

Focus, Orion scolded himself, forcing away any thoughts of lingering guilt or regret as he shuffled past the broken fence that blocked off one of the alleys beside the archives that Jazz had told him about.

“There’s no direct way inside except for the front doors. You’ll have to kind of get on the ground - yes, servos and patellas, don’t give me that look, you wanted to do this - and feel for something that has a little give,” Jazz had said to him on the rooftop. “Once you find it, just dig your digits around until you find a hook. Pull it up and go down the stairs. It’s not exactly easy to find, so be patient about it.”

Orion grumbled lightly to himself as he hesitantly got down to the dirty floor and sank to his patellas. He had to hold back a shriek when he felt something scuttle past him, and his optics adjusted rapidly as he tried to glimpse at what had just touched him, only to bite back another scream as he recognized the shape of a mech mouse.

The lighting here was non-existent and Orion shuddered as he realized that not only was he about to spend the next Primus knew how long kliks trying to find the stupid hatch door that Jazz mentioned, but also, his only company would be - his spark skipped in fear - mice.

“I hate this, I hate this, I hate this,” Orion muttered to himself as he dropped his servos to the ground as well and grimaced when dirt immediately got into the seams of his digits and dug under his plating uncomfortably. It was somehow considerably worse doing this compared to how filthy he got during his shifts, and he got disgusting a lot of the time then.

It was made worse by the scuttling noises his audials picked up, extra sensitive as he tried to stretch his hearing as far as he could and nearly offlined when he felt something brush against his pede, again.

“Fragging finally,” Orion whispered as at last, his pointer digit poked something that was a different texture than the rest of the hard, dirty concrete. It wasn’t soft exactly, but when he pushed, it flexed just the slightest bit underneath his paint. He dragged his digit down, carefully tracing the shape, and he made a small noise of triumph when he felt something that was shaped like a flat handle.

He grunted as he sat up and crouched, letting his legs do the hard work as he shoved his servo underneath the hook and tugged as best as he could. For a moment, he was scared that it wouldn’t work, that Jazz’s friend had bailed and Orion would get caught buck-aft naked and vulnerable for the guards to find him, but to his utter relief, it gave away to his strength, and opened without a sound.

He must have oiled the hinges, Orion thought with some amusement as he carefully lowered himself into the darkness and closed the door above him.

The stairs themselves were crudely built, and Orion recalled how Jazz had said they were just makeshift scaffolding for the wrecker bots as they built the new archives on top.

“Why did they rebuild you?” Orion said out loud, slowing down slightly to let his servo drag alongside the wall beside him.

The area was damp and dark, and only barely lit by weak little bulbs stuffed into the mortar lines of the wall. When he tilted his helm and observed more closely, he made a noise of curiosity as he realized that his digits were touching what looked like crack marks. He rubbed his thumb over one particularly large web-like spindle of damage, and he frowned when some of the material crumbled off.

He rubbed it between his pointer digit and thumb, slowly feeling the granules under his sensitive painting and holding it closer to his optic. Though the lights of the bulbs were weak and orange, he could still figure out that the material was a soft, silver color. When he looked at it some more, taking into account the size of the granules - not granules, he realized, but crystals - and the durability, as well as the luster…

Oh, his processor said lamely. It’s granite.

But why? Granite was strong, but it wasn’t as structurally sound as steel or reinforced concrete. Even the stacks weren’t built out of granite, and Orion had spent enough time underground to understand that the stuff was pretty and optic-catching, but relatively easy to drill through if necessary.

Jazz had said that the original archives were built over some dozen vorns ago. That didn’t make even a lick of sense. Orion spent less time reading Sentinel’s (stolen) datapads than Bee did, but he had still used quite a bit of his sols looking through various geology and architectural tomes to better understand the best way to do his work (and not to find the easy way out, no matter what Sentinel liked to say).

According to the texts, steel and concrete became the required norm by law around two hundred vorns ago. So were the original archives even older than that? What the frag?

He glanced around himself. There was no one but him, but he felt a chill, and he shivered slightly before he tucked away the little bits of granite into his subspace. He didn’t really have the time to think too hard about it, so he carefully put away that train of thought deeper into his processor and then jobbed the rest of the way down.

The deeper he went, the more evident it became to him that this was definitely Jazz’s space. There were little marks of him left behind - pedesteps that matched the underside of his pedes in both pattern and size, as well as various little trinkets that Orion recognized as his. He huffed a little in amusement when he came upon a small scratching on the wall that read JAZZ ROCKS.

“Slagger,” Orion said to himself in a fond voice as he jumped off the last step and came upon another staircase. This time, it went up, and he was silent as he climbed, allowing himself to think as he did.

“There’s another door at the top of the second staircase,” Jazz had said, his words slightly muffled as he rattled around an entire cube in his intake to try and suck as much energon out of it as he could. “It leads into an old storage closet. No one ever goes there except for my friend, and he should have unlocked the vent grate for you to go through. Yes, Orion, a vent, don’t look at me like that. Just crawl through it, follow the path, and it’ll spit you out into the middle of the mythology section, which is always empty because no one cares about that slag.”

He had swallowed heavily, wiped his intake with the back of his servo, and had regarded Orion carefully. Though his optics were always covered by his visor, his facial plates gave the distinction that he had looked at Orion with some type of reluctant sorrow.

“Be careful,” Jazz had muttered. “Keep your helm low. Don’t let anyone see you, especially not my friend - he’s already pissed I’m asking such a huge favor from him. Go in, get out, and let’s never speak of this again.

“Good luck.”

Orion sighed as he opened the door at the top, closed it carefully behind him, and looked around. True to Jazz’s word, he had ended up in some kind of storage closet, though everything was covered in dust and definitely looked more than a little outdated. There was a second door right across the tiny room, and out of curiosity, Orion jiggled the handle, but predictably, it didn’t budge.

“Alright,” Orion said, looking up and eyeing the already open vent grate above him. He shook his helm, cursed under his breath, and said, “I can’t believe I have to do this kind of slag again. Okay… Here we go…”

Hauling himself up into the vent wasn’t any harder than it had been when doing the same in Megatron’s cell, but that didn’t mean he enjoyed crawling through a tight, dark space and getting dust and dirt and whatever else was in there all into his seams. He seriously needed a shower after all of this, and he grimaced when his patella touched something that was either a dead mech mouse (holy frag) or a giant dust bunny.

Thankfully, he saw the faint rays of light that indicated the end of his journey, and he breathed a sigh of relief as he quickly shimmied over and slid a few digits through the slides to first take a peek below him.

The shelves were way larger and taller than he had anticipated, and he said a soft, “whoa,” in pure awe at the pristine, shining metal of the rows of datapads. It was honestly kind of incredible, and for a moment, he lied there, drinking it all in and once again wondering to himself if this was really the kind of life and privilege that Sentinel enjoyed everyday.

He shook his helm lightly, dispelled his growing thoughts, and carefully observed the area. Like Jazz said, there was no one around, and when he turned up his audial sensitivity, he also couldn’t hear anything nearby. It seemed like the entire section was abandoned, and so he quickly swung up the grate, slid downwards, hung himself from the square rim by the tips of his digits, and then jumped off.

It wasn’t too much of a fall, and after vorns of getting into trouble (and escaping Darkwing’s wrath), Orion knew very well how to roll into a ball and muffle most of his impact so that he only made a light thud. He came to a stop when his dorsal plates mashed into the lowest shelf, and he blinked as some of the datapads around him rustled, and then settled with the vibrations.

He stood up, dusted himself off, and looked around a little helplessly.

Uh.

So… now what was he supposed to do?

The answer came in the form of him figuring out that the entire place was arranged by genre, then alphabetical order, and then content order. It was a bit convoluted, honestly, and it took quite a bit of cursing and muttering from him before he finally found the history section.

This area was a bit more populated than the others, and Orion had to play his cards right so he wouldn't get caught. Luckily, these bots seemed more interested in burying their noses into datapads than looking up whenever someone happened to move past them, so Orion took advantage and slipped past a pair of femmes as well as a lone mech to stand in front of the section he needed.

“Revitalization Ceremony, Ceremony, Ceremony…” Orion mumbled to himself, repeating the words as his servo drew up and carefully ran along the various spines of the datapads.

Restoring Chrome Candles… Receiving Countless Colored Cups… Revitalizing Ceres.

He blinked.

“Huh?” He muttered.

Revitalizing Ceres. Revitalizing Control In Your Unruly Sparkling: A Guide.

“What the frag,” he whispered, both servos now reaching up and frantically sorting through the datapads, his optics trying to fruitlessly search for a spine right in between the last two titles he skimmed. It should have been there, it should have been right there, there was simply no other place it could be, and yet -

“It's gone,” he croaked.

It was gone. There was no trace of it.

He crouched low to the ground and rubbed at his forehelm, trying to dispel the ache forming behind his optics as he tried not to yell in frustration. This didn't make any sense. How the frag could the datapad not be here? The Revitalization Ceremony was a crucial part of their culture, and going by how the history section was one of the largest wings of the archives, clearly every part of Iacon was considered important!

Oh! Wait, wait! Maybe something with Iacon 5000, instead? Or even anything to do with the word ceremony! Oh, dammit, duh!

Trailblazer!

Orion eagerly stood up again and began his search.

Two joors, three dozen datapads, and very tired optics later, Orion slumped his dorsal plate against the nearest shelf behind him and groaned weakly as he let the last text slip from his servo and clatter innocently to the floor with a soft sound.

Nothing.

Not a single fragging thing on the Revitalization Ceremony, the trailblazers, not even the Iacon 5000! Large informative texts were maybe a bit too much to hope for, but what about records? Weren’t the archivists in charge of that sort of thing, to make sure every piece of Iacon history was written down and tucked somewhere so that everything was kept transparent and real?

He blinked slowly, his optics focusing on the spines in front of him as he frowned deeply. So was all of this effort for nothing, then? Had Megatron sent him on an actual fruitless chase just to see him act like an idiot? Was he sitting in his cell, laughing his helm off, thinking about poor Orion, who had spent the last few joors frantically reading datapad after datapad?

Maybe Sentinel was right, Orion thought to himself tiredly as he ran a servo down his face and then back up to pinch at the bridge of his nasal ridge. He was so exhausted that he could fall into recharge right then and there. Megatron's an obvious liar. I wouldn't put it past him to manipulate me. This is stupid, I should go home and just…

He paused. His digits twitched lightly against one of the datapads that were stacked around him in his franticness to figure out the answer to what Megatron had dropped a hint of, and Orion stared blankly at the shelf across from him.

No, he thought slowly. That didn't make sense. Though he didn't think that Megatron was above petty lies or cruel tactics to sway him, why would Megatron insist on Orion coming back afterwards if he knew that the archives wouldn't actually have anything? He already knew that Orion was going back regardless to feed him, so a steady supply of energon couldn't be it.

He was trying to prove something, Orion’s processor murmured. There's no such thing as the Ceremony, according to the archives. Did someone check out all the datapads that have to do with it? Or did the archivists forget to restock these?

He chewed on his lower derma. Frag. He wished he could talk to Hot Rod; he had been an archivist before he won the recent race, so surely he would have had some answers. But Orion didn't have his comm link, and he wouldn't be able to even get near him enough to ask for it.

But… maybe someone else could.

Private Comm Link (ID: #628317): Sentinel Prime? No, Sentinel Prick

Outgoing message…

DES: Orion Pax - ID: OP-001628

:: Sentinel! ::

Orion waited five kliks. He tapped his pede anxiously when there was no indication that Sentinel was typing, much less had seen his message. What the frag was he doing? Sentinel never left texts alone for too long, especially not when Orion was calling for him so urgently.

Slag. Was the thing that happened between Sentinel and Bee worse than Orion initially thought? He should have pushed more for answers, then maybe he could have pushed past whatever tiff the two of them were going through and so Sentinel would stop freaking ignoring him.

DES: Orion Pax - ID: OP-001628

:: Look, Sen, I really need your help. I'm assuming you're still at the party, so could you get me Hot Rod's private comm line if you can? ::

:: I know it's a lot to ask but I seriously need to talk to him. ::

:: … Sentinel? ::

:: Sen, come on. Whatever happened between you and Bee, we can fix it. Don't be too upset. I seriously need you right now, buddy. ::

:: Sen. ::

:: Sentinel!!! ::

Orion let out a garbled noise of static as he received no reply within the half-joor he waited impatiently. He wasn't usually rude enough to spam Sentinel, who he knew was the busiest out of all three of them, but this was important.

What the hell was Sentinel doing that had him so distracted? He had never ignored Orion like this before. Especially not when he was asking him for a favor that he had stressed was imperative to him.

He sighed and begrudgingly pulled another datapad towards him. Well, the good thing was that it was still early in the lune cycle, so he still had enough time to peruse some of these other texts and try to find some clue he might have missed. He doubted it, but it at least gave him something to do while he waited for Sentinel to -

“Councilman Sunstreaker, it is such an honor to have you here, you won't even believe how excited we all are!”

Slag. Slag, slag, frag, bolt-eating bucket of - !

Orion scrambled to hide himself as he quickly scooted back and pressed his dorsal plate flush against the flat end of the shelf he had been leaning on. His spark pounded dangerously fast in his chassis, and he swore lowly under his breath as he carefully peeked out and watched a femme archivist lead a mech painted black who was rapidly tapping away on a datapad, and behind him -

Orion's vents hitched.

Councilman Sunstreaker was worthy of his name; he was larger than both bots in front of him, and seemed to have no shame in letting his heavy steps echo throughout the otherwise silent hall. He was painted a near blinding shade of yellow, and he seemed more interested in picking at his audial and flicking away pieces of dust than paying attention to whatever the archivist was saying.

Orion had never seen him before, mostly because he tended to only watch the live projections that featured Ultra or Sentinel. His processor dug through his files and brought up everything Sentinel had ever mentioned about Sunstreaker, which wasn't a whole lot.

All Orion knew was that the councilman was apparently the head of the Elite Guard, which was much larger than Ultra’s personal high squadron. Judging by the bulging cable muscles as well as the sheer size of Sunstreaker's shoulder plates, Orion could warily conclude that the title wasn't unwarranted.

Of all the nights for him to be here - !

Getting caught by a noble? Bad. By a guard? Worse. By a councilman?

If Orion wasn't careful, he was as good as dead. Coolant began to drip down his nose and he again swore quietly when he felt his cooling fans kick on with a soft click. Hastily, he overrode his temperature gauge and sat there completely still, his frame heating up from his nerves.

“Yes, yes, thank you,” Sunstreaker said, his tone bored and slimy with arrogance as he waved off the next of the archivist's spewing. She had been talking about their newest wing of datapads or something or other, and Orion cringed in sympathy when she deflated and shut her intake. “Longarm, what exactly did I need to come find?”

The black mech that had been texting furiously on his datapad looked up and blinked. He didn't seem at all affected by the councilman's rudeness, and instead politely said, “the text on the best brewing methods for high grade energon, my lord. Remember how you said you wanted to drink the ale that the Primes used to?”

“Oh, yes,” Sunstreaker said, now looking thoughtful as he nodded his helm eagerly. “That sounds awesome. Imagine getting drunk off that and fragging the night off to do whatever you want!”

He laughed, a bellowing sound, and Orion was honestly just shocked that a senator was so crude. Ultra always had the appearance and attitude of regality and power, and though Orion had always heard Sentinel whine than not, he always caught a glimpse of that noble and aristocratic nature of his time to time.

Sunstreaker was none of those things. Powerful, yes, and certainly imposing enough. But he was… rude.

Luckily, it seemed that attitude didn’t extend to Longarm, who Orion assumed was Sunstreaker’s assistant, or at least something close to it. The smaller mech simply nodded along, his facial plates impassive, and it was clear that he was simply doing whatever he needed to do to appease the boisterous councilman.

“I just don’t see why we had to come tonight,” Sunstreaker complained loudly, causing a couple of heads with peeved expressions to poke out between shelves, only to shrink back as they realized who it was and quickly schooled their appearances to appear demure. “Ultra’s party is off the hook, Longarm! Look, look - see? Blurr just commed me that Chromedome’s vomiting up all his energon! Argh, I should have been there!”

“I understand, my lord,” Longarm said soothingly. He sent an apologetic, handsome smile to the architect who had been guiding them, who immediately blushed a pale blue and ducked her helm in bashfulness. “But the brewing section is usually closed off during the lune cycle, and you know I can’t have access without your key code.”

Sunstreaker grumbled something under his breath, too low for Orion’s audials to pick up on, but whatever he said seemed to have amused Longarm, who chuckled quietly.

“If you want to go so badly, just hand me the key code for now and I’ll meet you back at the mansion,” Longarm said, raising his servo in a give it here gesture.

“My key code?” Sunstreaker hesitated. He didn’t fidget or anything like that, something Orion legitimately could not even imagine a mech of his standing would do, but the way his optics darted from Longarm’s wiggling digits to his face was similar enough. “You know that’s confidential, Longarm. Ultra will have my aft if I - “

“That’s fine,” Longarm said gently, resting his servo gently on Sunstreaker’s much larger one. The councilman swallowed and glanced down again, this time looking entranced as Longarm murmured, “I understand. You can just stay with me and we can look through the shelves together, it’ll be fun. I mean, you’ll have to send your regards to Lord Ultra, because there’s no chance we’ll be done before morning - “

“What?” Sunstreaker blurted out. His face was suddenly set in a scowl as he jerked his helm down to stare at the archivist, who nearly jumped out of her plating as he did. “Is this true?”

“Y-Yes,” she squeaked. She cleared her throat and bowed, but even from here, Orion could see the way her servos shook as she folded them politely in front of them. “The brewery wing is large and old, my lord, and a good number of the datapads are unfortunately uncharged due to lack of interest from our patrons - “

“So we’ll have to wait for some of them to turn on while we look through them,” Longarm muttered thoughtfully. He was stroking Sunstreaker’s digits by this point, and Orion was mortified by how intimate the gesture was. He had originally thought that Longarm was Sunstreaker’s assistant; was he his lover instead? Were councilmen even allowed to have… romantic entanglements? “Well, then, show us the way, archivist. We’ll just - “

“Here.” Sunstreaker’s dentae were gritted as he shoved something towards Longarm. Despite the harsh way he did it, Longarm took what looked like a small, thin card with grace, and simply stared up at the councilman as he grumbled. “Spending all my lune here, are you crazy? Do I look like a nerd who wants to waste my time here when Ultra’s busting out the good stuff from his cellar?”

“Thank you, Sunstreaker,” Longarm said, just as softly as before.

Sunstreaker blushed. It was a bewildering look on a mech who Orion had clocked as annoyingly arrogant, and he stared, tilting his helm slightly as Longarm smiled at Sunstreaker in a decidedly both pleased and coy manner.

Well, whatever. This was his chance. With all three of them so distracted, Orion could start sneaking back towards the vent he had used. He raised a pede, intent on shuffling just the tiniest bit to stick closer to the wall, only to freeze when he nudged a datapad.

It was one of the thinner ones, so it slid easily at least a couple of inches, before it innocently stopped. It didn't move much, but half of its edge was in the light, and Orion froze, his spark in his throat as there was a small noise of surprise, and Sunstreaker said with a suspicious tone, “what was that? I saw something move.”

Holy frag, I'm so fucking dead, Orion thought hysterically to himself.

He risked another peek, using the angle to his advantage so they wouldn't see the shape or color of his helm, and he felt like he was being pierced in the optics as he realized that it wasn't Sunstreaker who was looking directly at him, but Longarm.

The black mech had a scowl on his face and glared so fiercely that Orion winced on principle. There was no way he hadn't been spotted, and he almost sighed as he realized that he would have to message both Sentinel and Bee that he would be out of commission for the next few sols.

Dammit. Ricks was not going to be happy. He already had a pole up his aft if Orion was late by a micro-klik, imagine the look on his face if he knew that Orion wouldn't be showing up at all for the foreseeable future?

That might make all of this worth it, Orion thought to himself, almost snickering as his processor helpfully generated an image of Ricks looking gobsmacked.

“I don't think I saw anything,” Longarm said sweetly, and Orion whipped his helm to gape at him as the smaller mech smiled up at Sunstreaker again, palming his wrist. The councilman, who had been squinting in an accusing manner at the stupid datapad that had given Orion away, flushed once again as he stared in awe at Longarm. “Why don't you start heading back, my lord? I'll catch up.”

????? Orion's processor nearly short circuited as it tried to make sense of what was happening.

Hadn't Longarm seen him? There was no way he didn't, they literally made optic contact, and Orion had already gleaned that the mech was far sharper than his boss/lover was. So what was it then?

“And I'll find you…?” Sunstreaker trailed off, his voice overly eager and obviously expecting a specific answer as he leaned down slightly.

Longarm smiled. It was a slight thing, nothing more than a little quirk of his dermas, but his optics lidded half-closed, he leaned up on the tips of his pedes, and he whispered into Sunstreaker's audial, just loud enough that Orion could pick up on the edges of his words: “In your berth, with my legs apart.”

Orion blushed and clapped a servo to his intake in horror mixed with embarrassment.

The archivist, who had been hovering nearby, went so blue with energon rushing to her face that she looked like she was going to faint.

Sunstreaker grinned, wide and way too lustful for a public setting as he eyed Longarm with such a seedy look that Orion felt slightly violated.

With a nod of satisfaction, Sunstreaker turned on his pede and began to march back where he went, in a disturbingly good mood as he bellowed out greetings to the startled mechs he passed by.

“Thank you for indulging him,” Longarm said to the archivist. He was acting like nothing had happened. He didn't even look flustered! He simply palmed the key code that Sunstreaker had given him and tucked it away into his subspace, smiling crookedly in a way that was a touch too charming as he said, “I know how to get to the brewery section from here. Your guidance so far has been appreciated.”

The archivist blushed again. It was honestly a bit fascinating to see her so blue; surely she would fall over soon from how practically all her energon was in her helm, now. If Orion wasn’t so busy trying not to get arrested, he would have asked her if she was alright.

“Oh, no worries, Mr. Longarm!” She said, frantically waving her servos about and giggling a little helplessly when his smile widened just that much more. “I'm so happy to help. I have to return to my desk now, but if you need anything else, here's my comm link ID.”

I guess all that energon in her helm gave her some courage, Orion thought in amusement as he watched the way she leaned down and scribbled something hastily on Longarm's palm, blinking coyly up at him as she did so.

He didn't seem offended by the offer, and simply said, “thank you, miss,” and dipped his head lightly as she tittered and then scampered off.

Orion let out a vent as he and Longarm stood there in silence, with nothing but the shadows and light to separate them. He did contemplate leaving, perhaps try to slip away and hope that Longarm wouldn't follow, but he had a feeling that would work as well as that one time he tried to convince Sentinel that drinking cycles-old energon was fine (read: it wasn't).

“Are you going to continue standing there, or are you going to come and arrest me?” Orion finally sighed, leaning against the dark, flat portion of the shelf as his helm tilted back and laid on it gently. He was busy trying to figure out how to beg (or bribe, sometimes it worked) the enforcer that would have to oversee his cell as he was detained for however many sols they deemed he needed.

“Don't speak so loudly. Or are you not nearly as intelligent as Jazz says you supposedly are?”

Orion jolted, and the noise that left his throat was mostly static as he realized that in the micro-klik he had spent staring up at the ceiling, Longarm had not only strode right past the shelves, but was standing so close to him that Orion had to jerk his chin up to even look him in the optics.

It was then that what Longarm said hit his helm like a damn brick, and he knew he was gaping rather unattractively going by the unimpressed look on Longarm's face as Orion sputtered, gestured at him incredulously, and then finally gasped out, “you're the friend Jazz was talking about?”

Longarm didn't answer. His previous light charm and wit seemed to have melted away completely the moment he stepped into the shadows, and his bright optics were dimmed so that they were barely visible. His expression was tight with irritation, and his arms were drawn across his chassis in his displeasure, but finally, after standing there for at least two kliks, he dipped his chin plate slightly in a yes.

“What the frag,” Orion deadpanned. When Jazz had said that he had a friend who helped him out, Orion had expected an archivist or some noble that had formed a relationship with him, similarly how Orion did with Sentinel.

But Longarm wasn't either of those things. He was not only Sunstreaker's assistant, but he was also his lover, or at least something of the sort. He was as close to the council as anyone who wasn't an actual senate member could get, and it made Orion blink several times as he realized that somehow, some way, Jazz had befriended this - this -

“You should have listened to Jazz.” Longarm's frown deepened into a scowl. Geeze, talk about a total 180. Gone was the soft-spoken, agreeable mech who had coaxed Sunstreaker into leaving and also appeasing the archivist to go away. He had been so faintly seductive that even Orion had felt a little flustered, but the bot stood in front of him now was cold. Annoyed. Maybe even a little angry. “You weren't supposed to draw attention to yourself.”

Orion looked at him in disbelief. “I didn't, at least until you came along! If you knew I was going to be here, why the hell did you lead Sunstreaker right towards me?”

Longarm pursed his dermas and looked to the side. When he spoke, it sounded like his dentae were gritted, and he ground out, “that fool? Please. As if he would ever leave me alone enough for me to venture out on my own. It just so happens that we both lucked out and Ultra is throwing a party. If he wasn't, we would both be in trouble.”

Orion stared at him.

Okay, now he was really confused.

“Uh.” He started tentatively. He didn't want to upset Longarm; if he really was Jazz's friend, then that meant by extension, he was Orion's ally. But curiosity beat out his struggle for propriety, and he cleared his throat, rocked slightly on his heels, and awkwardly said, “sorry, I don't… understand. I thought you and Sunstreaker were - ?”

Longarm shot him a vicious glare, and Orion quickly shut his intake.

“You need to get out,” Longarm growled, now sounding impatient as he glanced past Orion's helm, clicking his glossa in irritation as he saw something. “The archivists continuously sweep the floors every five joors to clean up any messes. Did you find what you were looking for, or is your helm too thick for that?”

Orion's optic twitched at the insult, but he brushed it off and said, “no. I've been trying to find out about the Revitalization Ceremony and also the records of all past winners and trailblazers, but I couldn't find anything. It's like they all disappeared or something.”

He let out a frustrated vent. He just couldn't figure it out. How could there be nothing about the Ceremony? That was impossible. Ever since the Primes disappeared and Ultra took the lead of their congress, he had implemented a system to soothe the restlessness of Iacon citizens. Part of that system had been to record everything that ever happened in their city, so that bots could come and read about their history whenever they wanted.

It was about transparency, integrity, and generosity. So why…?

Orion realized that Longarm hadn't said anything in the kliks that passed, and he glanced up at him, wondering if something was wrong, only to nearly flinch when he saw that Longarm was not only staring at him, but he was staring at him so intensely that it was a wonder Orion's helm didn’t have a hole burnt through it.

He wanted to ask what was wrong, but he was understanding more and more that the Longarm that he had seen with Sunstreaker and that archivist had been a facade. A mask that he put on for some reason, and had dropped around Orion because he wasn't worth it.

“The Ceremony,” Longarm rasped. He glanced down to Orion's chassis, where his cog well was empty. Orion didn't even have time to feel offended by the blatant staring before Longarm reached out and gently pressed his digit tips against the edge of the empty socket. “Why do you care? You can't compete.”

“Hey!” Orion snapped, the first dredges of real anger sparking at the edge of his processor as he harshly slapped away the servo. Surprisingly, Longarm let him, and the larger mech simply leaned back and continued to stare as Orion snarled and said, “listen, I know that to you I'm just a miner, but that doesn't mean you can just go around touching me like that! What gives you the damn right, huh? Just because you're a higher caste - !”

Longarm laughed.

Orion froze.

It wasn't a mocking laugh, and it wasn't one full of anger or irritation. It was short and more breathy than voice, but it was real, and when Longarm smiled, it wasn't like the slight one he gave Sunstreaker, who easily fell for his seductions. It wasn't even like the one he showed to the archivist, full of polite charm and wit.

It was rough, more of a smirk than an actual smile, but his voice had softened around its rough edges as he said, “you're right.”

Orion was taken back, and he was sure his confusion of what was going on was clear as he said, “er, I am?”

Longarm nodded. He straightened and said, “at least about that, yes. But the records of the Revitalization Ceremony… they won't be found here. You're on an endless hunt for it if that's really what you're searching for.”

“But - “ Orion said helplessly. “I need it.”

Longarm's dermas twitched. “Earlier, you said it's like they disappeared.”

Orion nodded, his skepticism making his face scrunch into a frown as Longarm hummed in contemplation.

“Perhaps you aren't entirely off the mark with that observation,” Longarm said, and he gave Orion a pointed, knowing look.

Do you understand? Longarm's optics stared.

Oh, Orion stared back. I do.

Oh.

Orion understood. Megatron hadn't lied to him or manipulated him or done anything like Sentinel and Orion had expected him to; he hadn't sent Orion on some stupid, helmless and scatterbrained quest. This was what Megatron wanted him to see. There weren't any records of the Ceremony, not because someone had checked them out or they were replaced.

Someone had taken them. Deliberately.

They were hiding something about the Ceremony, Orion thought rapidly. There had always been something strange about the whole thing, and Megatron's knee-jerk reaction to Hot Rod winning hadn't been a coincidence, either. Whatever Megatron knew, the bot who stole all these datapads didn't want it getting out.

That meant the secret was dangerous. This was bigger than what Orion had originally thought it was; this was more than him and Megatron playing a game and seeing who would bend the knee and call for mercy first.

“Longarm - “ Orion started, his voice hard and insistent, but the larger mech breathed out a soft curse as he grasped Orion's arm and started to weave through the shelves, ignoring the way the miner stumbled behind him and hissed at him to slow down.

“You're out of time,” Longarm said, not looking over his shoulder as he breezed past a few femmes, both of whom were luckily too engrossed in their respective data pads to glance up. “The archivists will be here soon to check the area, and I'm limited on time, myself. We part here.”

Orion nearly slammed into the back of Longarm’s legs as the mech suddenly let go of him and the speed they'd been walking carried too much momentum. He felt slightly dizzy as he peeled off his servos from Longarm's legs where they'd clutched at the metal in an effort to catch him, and he made a noise of recognition as he recognized the vent grates up above them.

“Wait,” Orion said desperately, trying to jump down when Longarm unceremoniously scooped him up by the waist and lifted him. Instinctively, Orion clung to the rim of the opening and then lifted himself the rest of the way, but he quickly turned to try to plead at Longarm, who was already reaching up and locking the grates with something Orion couldn't see. “Longarm - “

“The answers you seek are not easy to understand,” Longarm warned as he finished locking the grate and then carefully observed the area. Luckily, no one was near, and he gave Orion one last, examining look. “You have to figure it out yourself. Goodbye.”

“Oh, you slagger,” Orion muttered darkly as Longarm turned around and disappeared beyond the corner of a shelf, moving so swiftly that it was like he'd never been there in the first place.

Still, Orion thought, shimmying forward in the vent tunnel and his processor clicking as he filed away everything he had learned that night into his hard drive.

He had definitely found some invaluable intel.

When was the next time he could see Megatron?

#undertow #megop #sentibee #megatron #optimus prime #orion pax #transformers #transformers one #bumblebee #sentinel prime #sorry ill reformat this later #im too tired to do it properly #this chapter almost made me die #like fr #why is it so long

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windvexer · 7 hours ago

Note

do you have any suggestions for magic to be a better friend? i currently have a friend who's so angry she can't stand to look at me or be around me because after she slept through our original hangout i was insufficiently concerned (due to being busy with spirit work) and then missed the time we rescheduled for by 17 minutes, and i think i need to do a lot of self-improvement work. i've been praying to be more useful to the gods and spirits around me but if i can't be good to the PEOPLE around me what's the point? i want to be more able to put other people first.

Good morning.

I can't tell whether you or your friend missed the rescheduled time by 17 minutes. It sounds like you did.

So your friend blew you off completely and is now furious at you for not having the emotions she deems acceptable, and is raking you over the coals for doing something objectively less bad than she did.

Now, because your is punishing you for having wrong emotions and villiainizing you for being distracted, you are having a crisis of faith.

Here is some advice you did not ask for:

Friendship does not mean being nice to someone, and being in service to someone, no matter how they treat you or make you feel. That is labor under capitalism.

You maybe could use some self improvement. I posted this spell for you. I think that you should ask yourself, if I did this spell and it works perfectly, will it allow my relationship with my friend to go unchecked?

But perhaps more relevantly for you, Anon, I think you should ask yourself if you feel safe and comfortable protecting yourself from malfeasance if you believe it will limit your friend's access to you. And, whether or not you feel that protecting yourself would make you feel like a bad person who isn't being useful enough.

Best of luck to you. You sound like a good person. If you want to shelter good people, you should also shelter yourself.

#answered

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hodari-pavels-good-boy · 2 days ago

Text

No okay so I could like POP OFF about all the little things that could be written off as quirks or just particularities if there was only one or two but when compounded together made me go OH. He's just like me fr 😭 (I am so sorry OP for hijacking your Autistic Hassian post bc you are so right and I could make a whole long ass post like this about him too. But I feel the need to spread the Hodari is also autstic and heres why propoganda)

-Food pickiness. He's sooo particular about what he eats, how its flavored, and even what he's willing to cook it on. Only spices from his hometown, only on a specific type of grill "no shortcuts", NO fish, same meals over and over again. There's also the underlying trend that undiagnosed adult men tend to lean towards that 'steak and potatoes' type food as a comfort food and while other characters will switch up the kind of food they want (change different entree type foods from soups to fish or sweets. Badruu, Chayne, and Ashura do this) Hodari almost always only will request steak dinner(or grilled meat i forget which lol) or sernuk stew. The food he'll gift you if you stop by at night for some "midnight meat" is also the steak. Man knows what he likes to eat and that's ALL he eats lol. (I also think its cute that he shows genuine concern if you tell him you don't eat breakfast and he forces you to take food and its just an egg lmaooo)

-He DOES find the town overwhelming. He tells the player he stopped coming in the evening and instead comes for lunch because its not busy and people wont talk to him. Even tells the player to leave him alone if they want to chat but if they want to eat lunch in silence with him they can pull up a chair. Kenyatta makes a comment about how "the miner and his daughter don't come into town much" and they don't talk a lot, assuming their house to always be silent. (lol. lmao even) He also only goes to the markets for Najuma. He doesn't like the noise and complains about the fireworks being "shot off every five minutes". While it is revealed by Najuma that he begrudgingly does enjoy coming, it's heavily implied that if left to his own devices he wouldn't be there. So sound and lots of people stress him tf out and he always seems significantly more 'gruff' during social situations like the market (swearing more "whole damn place smells like it"/kinda angry and screaming of sensory overload) or during town parties where he expresses discomfort than when talking to him when its just him

-Piggybacking off that, he NEEDS his alone time. He enjoys being down in the mines by himself where its just him and "the swing of the pickaxe. Nothing else matters". He also places really firm boundaries with the player if its too late and during his alone time that may come off as overly blunt or rude. "If you're here to talk to Najuma, go home it's past her bed time. If you're here to talk to me, don't". A valid boundary but can come across as a little harsh lol. especially in a game where most characters don't mind when you talk to them late at night or only have mild remarks of the time.

-Going off that, his social awkwardness. Not super apparent immediately when we first meet him because we can write it off as he's busy (he is lol) and we are new. However pretty quickly it appears he has a bit of a chip on his shoulder compared to the other villagers (except Hassian lol) even though his character profile in the beginning tells you he seems like a nice neighbor who is "always willing to lend a helping hand". And while his direct words to the player seem to contradict that, the other villagers talk very friendly about him even though it becomes apparent he doesn't treat or talk about them any different than he does the player. He's just 'like that' and they love him all the same. He also only considers Zeki a friend but from talking with the other npcs we know he has drinking contests with Sifuu, plays cards (and wins) with Ashura, and Badruu loves to tell him jokes to try and get him to laugh (and holds it as a personal point of pride when he finally does lol) and they all consider him a friend. He struggles to emotionally connect to his daughter even though we see its not through a lack of willingness or trying. He's a very good dad but there's a large emotional gap that neither of them seem to be able to cross even though they're both trying. And this is all BEFORE you romance him. If you romance him the awkwardness gets SO much clearer. He takes your gift but doesn't immediately accept or reject it bc he's overwhelmed and put into a situation he wasn't expecting and doesn't have an appropriate reaction set aside to use in that moment (The masking falls). He has to seek the player out later to explain he's not rejecting them but is clearly very uncomfortable the whole time. He struggles A LOT with emotional intimacy and has to give himself little pep talks, out loud, when talking with the player. He fears the closeness and refuses to put a label on anything "you do what you want to do and I'll do what I want". Once he's comfortable however, he IMMEDIATLEY switches to a pet name (as opposed to other characters like Reth or Jel who were comfortable using pet names before ever romancing them) and tries to win your affection. He bakes you a heart shaped quiche and takes you on a "date" (where its quiet, private, and not around other people. And not in a we need to hide way but in a 'see all of town is overwhelming bullet point' way) where he was so excited to see the player he forgets the food. He gets so in his head and awkward that his daughter has to interfere SEVERAL times throughout the course of the relationship. He gets fixated on small details and creates 20 (i think? A lot at least lol) pins.

-Rigid schedule. Okay so bc its a video game all the npcs have a set time they go to places and do xyz things so that cant inherently be used BUT Hodari is one of the only ones who's schedule is talked about. He goes to town for lunch every. day. even though he loves to cook and complains how much he hates the walk into town (Najuma also tells us he hates going into town for things). There are comments of the time he wakes up, and how Najuma even shudders at the idea of having to wake him up if he slept in accidentally even though he doesn't go to work in the mines during the mornings and has a few hours before he even goes to the workshop showing this is a very self imposed and relied upon schedule that throws him off really bad if its not kept to.

okay i could probably keep going but this is already really long and I feel bad enough I hijacked the post a bit lol

Was playing Palia, and as I was flirting with Hassian, I came to the headcanon that he is Autistic

Source: I am Autistic and I said so /lh

#palia #hodari pavel #palia game #autistic headcanon #hodari palia #autistic hodari

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thatstoomanysausages · 6 months ago

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Still have the image of Secret Life Grian fighting desperately for his life in the 1v3.

Sword getting kicked away and him using whatever he could to tick away damage point after damage point.

Knowing that the hits he made would count. That every hit counted towards the end, and every hit made victory a step further away for them.

Knowing that Cleo had gone down during the fight. The lightning had registered vaguely in the back of his mind and he had felt something deep and gravelly in his chest.

Scratching with broken and muddied nails into Scott’s neck, gripping at rocks around and throwing them, dragging them down Gem’s skin. Sinking his teeth into Impulse’s arm when he grips him in an attempt to trap him, probably breaking skin.

Every movement frantic, like a wild animal in a cage, knowing that he was only being released because it was his end.

Fighting violently and leaving them with injuries that would’ve evolved into infections if they hadn’t of died mere hours later.

#life series #life series smp #traffic smp #secret life smp #secret life #grian #zombiecleo #scott smajor #impulsesv #geminitay #this scene has been in my mind since I saw the 1v3 happen #this is how sick in the head I am #I aim to hurt❤️#every time an audio comes up on TikTok with a heavy bass drop I think of Grian taking a chunk of Impulse’s arm out with his teeth #like feral desperation #that sounded a lot more concerning than I wanted it to #characters obviously 👍

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morningmask27 · 14 days ago

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Honestly I'm also not fully happy with what they did with Whis this book

#morningtalks #asc spoilers #Not like they gave Whistlepaw a lot of screentime at all despite how relevant WindClan was all of a sudden #(nooooo that had to go to Crowfeather. Not like he's got enough attention with TNP + PO3 + his super edition + deputyship + TBC #+ Changing Skies now too. Noooooooooooooooooooo we really can't have a single other cat in WindClan be important)#At least Whis had an excuse. Making Additional Content for another book that readers have to buy and be USELESS in that book #But Whistlebreeze?#Out of all the fun names you could've chosen. Whistlebreeze?#At least it's not Whistlepelt or Whistleheart #But really? Whistlebreeze?#I find it boring honestly #It's obviously a me thing. I'm obviously going to take Whis' name more seriously than most because I draw that damned cat Every Single Day #But there were so many possibilities for really poetic and pretty names #But they stuck with the simple option. Whistlebreeze #I obviously wanted Whistlebird #But with Ivypool's Therapy Session you could've made an argument for Whistlestorm #Even if it doesn't sound good at all. The two 't' s really don't make for a good name #But it would've been better than Whistlebreeze as far as I'm concerned #-breeze as a suffix can be cute and I like it but it has little to do with Whis aside from WindClan #Whistlebird neither but it sounds fun and has a rare suffix #Obviously Whistlefrost would've been hilarious #Heck. I just thought about Whistlecreek. Kinda odd but could be a more discrete hommage to Frostdawn as a RiverClan cat #(Frostdawn is a good name tho. Pissed she's back to being a healer but Frostdawn is good at least)#I also love the -berry suffix but with Berryheart just being a nuisance it would've been a very stupid decision here #But I'm just annoyed that they went with Whistlebreeze. It's boring. It's kinda pretty yeah but it adds nothing #It says ''Whis is a WindClan cat.''#Whistle- is a hard prefix to work with. The 't' and 'l' at the end makes it nearly impossible for a good amount of suffixes #Because they wouldn't sound good. (Any occlusive or lateral would've been horrendous. That's why Whistlelight sounds bad. Too many L's)#Whistlebreeze does sound nice at least but again it's bland and I am disappointed and really they could've done so much #With this name. Whistle is a difficult prefix but it offers so much poetic potential

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bitegore · 25 days ago

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getting mental healthcare is really cool, its like asking someone to take a sledgehammer to your self-interest and then saying thank you after because it makes your life moderately easier even though you have to deal with this shit now

#red rambles #my psychiatrist wants to put me on anxiety medication to help me sleep because she thinks the issue with me sleeping and stuff is ptsd rela #related and I CANT REALLY ARGUE??? i dont think it is and as far as im concerned i dont feel anxiety at all but like I CANT REALLY ARGUE. i #keep thinking about it because to be completely honest this pisses me off more than i can express in words and ive been gnashing my teeth #about it all afternoon and like i dont think 'i have to play loud and abrasive music at night or else i jerk awake at every sound and can't #convince myself it was nothing and also have auditory hallucina #oh fuck. lmfao i forgot to mention that.#she was even talking about how auditory hallucinations are a lot more significant and i do just kind of have low grade auditory hallucinati #all the fucking time i just dont pay attention to them because i play music and ignore it. hashtag mentally healthy and sound #like im fine the last time i heard a coherent Voice telling me to coherent Do Things i was like 17 lmfao #but i sure do hear footsteps that aren't and breaking glass that isnt and indistinct human voice murmuring sounds that arent all the time #........ fucking i dont feel like emailing her to be like hi i forgot to mention this because i am so good at tuning it all out.#if its that big a deal it'll start mattering for realsies and if its not ill just let it lie until next appointment #ANYWAY THAT DOES KIND OF SOUND LIKE THE BEHAVIORS OF AN ANXIOUS PERSON. A LITTLE.#the jerking awake if there are noises and making up noises to jerk awake to bit. specifically #but also like it doesnt scare me it just makes me wake up and then i am awake and going 'what??? bhuh???' and then im mad im awake but #im not scared very often. it takes a lot. ignore that the last time i got significantly capital s scared was like two weeks ago i thought m #friend's house was on fire and they were about to go to sleep and die. thats a reasonable situation to be freaked out in #ANYWAY THIS PISSES ME OFF REALLY BAD. I DONT LIEK IT.

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erisolkat · 2 months ago

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i dont wanna sic dad on mom cause she never gets any goddamn proper alone time (he thinks when she says shes going to bed it means he's meant to go with and he works from home and barely ever leaves) but also im finding it harder and harder to focus with him still downstairs

#he makes a lot of sounds #he shuffles his feet around and slaps his belly to stim #and sniffles a bunch #and if i make a sound he'll get all curious like when you open a can and the cats are like ooh is that wet food for a baby. but concerned #and i just feel bad because he feels bad if im down here alone despite really not wanting any company so hes probably staying here #on obligation rather than because he was gonna be downstairs for so long #i mean he isn't doing any of his own work so #i can never tell if its actually because he feels bad that im down here all alone or if thats one of those weird lies mom told me to idk #woobify him?#i think she might be woobifying him to herself to make being married to him more tolerable but thats neither here nor there #wow i just realized that dad never does any of that shit for mom #the closest she gets is him not understanding how anxiety works and infantalizing her for it #he'll lie about the weirdest shit to her cause hes scared she'll have an anxiety freak out and he'll have to like... take care of her?#i dont know what the fuck is up with those two. get a divorce we're all rooting for you (to get a divorce)#wow this went off the rails

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medicinemane · 3 months ago

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#I don't think I want to make a proper post about this because I don't want to get anyone worrying #truth is everything I'm about to say... we're already more or less there #but various conflicts around the world... what they're really exposing is just how much damage a single drone with an explosive can do #Ukraine with russian oil refineries; houthis against global shipping #...I can't deny that someone could do a whole lot of damage very easily these days to say... a port #drone boat to hit something in the water; flying drone to hit some major infrastructure #again; don't sit up worrying about this... this isn't like a 'trust the government' kinda speech #but... I sure as hell ain't the only one noticing this; hopefully things are being done to make this harder #though... man... it's not exactly easy to deal with #but also... what is worrying going to do about this? it's something that catches in my mind a lot but I don't exactly worry #honestly in the US for instance another shooting is way more likely unfortunately #but... it's just worrying... eh; this post must sound confusing; but there's more than one way to use worry; right?#worry anxiety; worry concern; all that kinda stuff #I'm concerned but not anxious; that's what I'm saying really #it's bad because an explosive and a consumer drone... there's a lot I can think of you could do with it #and while it's not like you're gonna come to me for these kinda ideas; I don't think I feel like listing off dangerous domestic targets #...but what can you do? just keep trying to do what you can when you can #...just a trend I've noticed is all and... it's not an ideal trend

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greyphitus · 11 months ago

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Hey guys

There's a post going around about something called the "Invertebrate Studies Institute" needing help. A few comments made on the post made me curious, so I checked it out and it seems sketchy to me. (ETA: the post's OP is now aware of the situation and is trying to rectify things on their end, and are ok with my post getting more exposure. Read the notes for more info too!)

The institute is a startup and the owner has displayed misogynistic behavior. He made a company and received "$1.3 million in research grants from the USDA and Bill & Melinda Gates Foundation" in 2011, but there aren't any research papers listed on the ISI website more recent than 2012 (sources: ISI website, People Behind the Science podcast transcript, All Things Bugs LLC webpage). It's possible his research is still a work in progress, but I would expect to see some genome sequencing work at the least since that seems to be a major focus.

Also, it's possible to ship frozen specimens in dry ice and have them be fine. Even stuff for molecular work and genome sequencing. So the inability to get help from other research groups, to where they're asking for a local freezer plug-in, is a bit weird to me.

Some screenshots below the cut, didn't screenshot everything since it's mostly just text, but I did cite the sources if you wanna read them yourself.

Not sure what the overall point is of this post is besides "seems sketch to me" but I saw a lot of people worrying on the initial post so I wanted to at least mention this stuff.

Comments from the tumblr post which sparked my initial concerns.

Screenshots from the LinkedIn link, with the initial contact and follow-up legal threat.

Screenshot from the ISI website talking about their facility and "initiative" (I noticed a lot of the wording on the website sounded like they hadn't done significant research, which also gave me pause).

And, for fun, the CDC guide on shipping frozen specimens.

#not photos #invertebrate studies institute #making my own post cause I don't want to signal boost the misogynist startup sorry #FYI OG post's OP is now aware of all this and does not support the scientist in being a shitbag or anything like that #they are trying to rectify the situation on their end #they just wanted to save the frozen science bugs

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writers-potion · 2 months ago

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Writing Character Accents in Fiction

Hey there, thanks for the question! I speak English as a second language; most English speakers I encounter aren’t native (yes, including fictional people); thus, this is a concern I’ve explored personally when I write.

I think the core principle regarding accent writing is this: it shouldn’t be distracting.

For the same reasons why Stephen King prescribes the basic dialogue tag “said” rather than fancier alternatives like “whispered”, “shouted” or “screeched”, dialogue must be first and foremost easy to read. It must flow like a real conversation – the pace and tone are a lot more important than how specific words are being pronounced by the character.

Focus on what effect the accent has:

Using adjectives to describe their voice in general. Different types of English (American, British, Australian, etc.) will give off a different vibe, also partly dependent on how your character speaks in general:

Lilting: Having a smooth rise and falling quality; sing-song like. Welsh accent is often described as singing.

Posh: from a high social class. This is the term generally used to describe the upper-class British accent.

Nasal: this happens when the sound goes through somebody’s nose when they’re speaking. North American accents are more nasal than, say, British pronunciations.

Brash: harsh, loud, indicative of sounding a little rude.

Slur: speaking indistinctly; words merging into one another.

Using metaphors.

Her voice was cotton and fluffy clouds.

When he spoke, the ‘r’s scratched the insides of his throat.

Mentioning their accent with a brief example(s).

“Would you like to drink some wine?” she said, though her Indian accent gave extra vibration to her ‘w’s and ‘r’s, making the words sound more like ‘vould you like to drrrink some vine’.

“I want some chocolate.” His syllables were choppy and ‘l’s rather flat, saying ‘cho-ko-lit’.

Some Tips:

Don’t phonically spell out everything. Perhaps give a few examples in the beginning, but stick to standard English spellings.

Pay attention to word choice, slang, and colloquialisms.

An Australian person would say “tram”, not “trolley; “runners” instead of “sneakers”

A Canadian may refer to a “fire hall” – what Americans call a firehouse or fire station

If your character comes from a non-Enligsh background:

Use vocabulary from other languages.

“What time was the exam, ah? Two o’clock? Jiayou!” → putting “ah” or “la” at the end of sentences + Jiayou means “break a leg” in Singlish.

“I can’t believe that 4-year-olds have their own SNS accounts now.” → “SNS” is short for “social networking service”, a term used to refer to social media in Korea. This would a subtle difference – even though it isn’t technically Korean at all!

Transpose grammar from different languages.

For example, in French, plural nouns take plural adjectives (whereas in English, you would speak of ‘white cars’, not ‘whites cars’).

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💎Before you ask, check out my masterpost part 1 and part 2

#writers and poets #writers on tumblr #writing #helping writers #creative writing #let's write #creative writers #poets and writers #writeblr #resources for writers #ask blog #ask me anything #answered asks #writing process #writing advice #writing inspiration #writing community #writer #writerscommunity

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cathnospam · 11 days ago

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Bakugo makes you laugh, A LOT and it drives him insane.

“It was not that damn funny.”

You try to conceal the snickers from your mouth, but fail horribly. All he did was mutter something about Mineta being a punk ass and it had you giggly.

At first he used to take offense by it, maybe you were laughing AT him and not what he says, almost like mocking him, that wasn’t until Deku quickly explained in passing that you laugh very easily.

But you don’t laugh this damn much with anybody else but him. At this point he thought you had a similar quirk to Ms. Joke, and he nicknamed you Giggles.

You both were studying in the library like you both usually do during exam week, and Bakugo noticed you haven’t been Miss. Cackle the past few days. Not even a smile actually and you’d think it would have been some relief for him from hearing your laugh obxonious laugh, but he’s actually more annoyed.

He looks up from his book and glances at you across the table, you’re typing away, with a less that neutral look on your face. Lips somehow forming a pout and eyes looking droopy. He scoffs going back to his work, but it was an itch he needed to scratch with you..?

“Who pissed in your breakfast.”

“What?”

“You been looking like a sad lost puppy all week what the hell is your problem.”

The corner of your lips cracked upwards a bit, almost as if you were fighting to smile, but instead you shrug, “‘Nothing you needa worry about. Why.”

It was almost concerning how calm you sounded. Your voice was more tame that you didn’t even sound recognizable which make Bakugo crease his brows, “You suck at lying. Is it, because of that shitty boyfriend you have pissed you off.”

He was referring to Shindo, he wasn’t your boyfriend, but he was a guy you got close with after meeting him a few years ago, but Bakugo was half right he was part of the problem.

You had a small crush on Shindo , but overheard him tell his classmates how he isn’t into you like that mainly because you’re not his type and how much he can’t stand how loud you talk/laugh sometimes.

It hurt hearing it, when he found out you heard he tried apologizing but you didn’t wanna hear it, so since then you’ve turn self conscious about speaking and laughing too loudly for the past week to avoid anymore issues that you have caused with people.

After slowly explaining to the Blonde he rolled his eyes, “You’re ganna let the walking vibrator dictate your life too? So stupid.”

“You hate my laugh too. What does it matter.”

Bakugo stayed silent for a moment while you went back to work. Thinking how could he word what he wants to say without sounding like an idiot, “I never said that, besides you never stopped even when I did tell you your laugh was annoying. If you want to cackle like a hyena who gives a fuck—“

You break into a snicker but end up covering it with your hand. He cracks a proud smirk, he almost forgot what you looked like with a smile, “I don’t wanna be loud. Just can’t help it.”

“We know.”

You giggle at his deadpanned voice, it really wasn’t your fault, you’re just so easy to please and Bakugo knows that, “Giggly ass, and I seen you almost laugh when Denki tripped at the lecture today.”

“Becauuseee he is always so dramatic when he falls.” You whined into a chuckle, sharing a small one with him.

It was a start of many more shared laughs after studying, Katsuki even tried to be just a LITTLE bit more funnier than usual when walking back to the dorms. When you finally cracked a real loud one out he felt himself grinning at you.

“Katsuki Alexander Bakugo are you smiling?”

“Don’t you EVER say my full name like that again got dammit I will blow you the hell UP!”

You almost fall to your knees of how funny his reaction was to you, it felt so good to smile again. You missed it, and so did everybody else the next day apparently.

Mina and some others thought you were depressed, Deku assumed you were sick, Denki outwardly blamed Bakugo which got him smacked, and IIda actually missed your loud noises as well.

Your classmates enjoyed your presence more than you thought they did.

But Bakugo missed it the most.

Your laughs drives him insane, because he loves to hear them.

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sunniques · 7 months ago

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— 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐞 𝐨𝐫 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐬 ?

➺ PAIRING: lee heeseung x female reader

➺ GENRE: stepbrother au, smut

➺ SUMMARY: the story of how your stepbrother’s girlfriend realizes her boyfriend has never really been hers.

➺ CW/TW: stepcest, infidelity, possessiveness, heeseung can lift reader, cucking kink, voyeurism, masturbation (f), oral sex (f), fingering, face sitting, unprotected sex, creampies

➺ WC: 4.6k

NOTE: don’t like, don’t read.

A lot of people find your relationship with your stepbrother cute. How could they not? He’s always so doting and protective like a real brother would be. In spite of being only slightly older, Heeseung takes on a very important role in your life. He constantly goes out of his way to take care of you, making sure you have anything you could possibly need.

Heeseung’s girlfriend never thought too much about the relationship between you two. It was natural that he took the naive college freshman under his wing and constantly had you by his side. Mina found it endearing, actually. The way he worried about you like a mother hen who wasn’t ready for her young chick to go into the world alone is adorable and a good sign. After dating so many inconsiderate losers, she thinks she’s finally chosen the right guy.

But somewhere along the way, Mina starts to grow tired of it. Time has gone by, and you’re no longer a naive freshman who can’t get around without her boyfriend’s help. Of course family is important, but it’s not like you’re entirely helpless. And yet, that’s exactly the way Heeseung acts. He’s always ready to drop everything when you need him. On several humiliating occasions, he’s even left her half naked on his bed just to go to you because you bought something you couldn’t figure out how to put together, or because you wanted to hang out with him.

It’s hard for Mina to admit that she’s a little jealous. Especially because it all seems so ridiculous. There’s no way her boyfriend actually wants you like that. But as time goes on, she thinks that maybe she’s not all that crazy. Especially with the affectionate way her boyfriend looks at you. Despite all this, Mina doesn’t say anything. At least, not until Heeseung starts to bring you along to what were meant to be dates.

“Babe, why do you keep bringing your stepsister? i thought we were going on a date?” It’s hard for her to not sound bitter and annoyed.

“Her roommate is going to visit her parents, and I don’t want Y/N to be alone.” His tone is kind and gentle like always, but it’s also firm and leaves no room for arguments.

What’s worse is that Mina can’t bring herself to hate or blame you. In a way, she understands why her boyfriend is always so concerned about you. You’re so nice and trusting that it would be way too easy for someone to take advantage of that. There’s also the fact that you’ve been more than willing to let them have some alone time, but Heeseung never lets you leave.

It’s all so strange and frustrating that Mina feels like she has to take matters into her own hands. So she does.

The key to Heeseung letting you go is getting you a boyfriend—or at least getting you to start dating. It’s easy enough to find a guy who’s interested in you. That’s never been a problem for you, and all it takes is her showing your picture to the cute guy in her communications class for her plan to fall into place. As luck would have it, you’re also into meeting the guy and going out with him.

Little did Mina know, setting you up with him would be a mistake that would cost her everything.

On the night you’re meant to meet up with her classmate, Mina excitedly goes to her boyfriend’s apartment. It’s been a long time since she got to be alone with Heeseung, and she was going to make the most of it.

She’s dressed in tiny tank top and a cute little skirt that Heeseung loves—it barely hides the lingerie she’s wearing underneath. Mina quietly lets herself into her boyfriend’s apartment using her spare key. Quietly, she tiptoes to his room only to find the door wide open. What she doesn’t expect is to find you sitting on his the edge of bed while Heeseung kneels in front of you.

Mina feels like a bucket of cold water has been dumped on her as his pretty hands rub your soft thighs. You look incredible, clad in a cute little dress with your makeup and hair done to perfection. It’s a mistake for Mina to keep watching, but she can’t find her voice at the moment.

“Seungie, what’s wrong?”

God, Mina hates that you call him that. Mostly because she can tell how much Heeseung likes it.

“Why didn’t you tell me you were going out to meet some guy?” Heeseung sounds almost venomous, but it’s like you don’t hear it. “Who is he? How’d you meet him?”

You tilt your head, pretty lips pulled down in a confused frown. “Didn’t Mina tell you? She set me up with a guy from her class. He’s really cute!”

A chill goes down Mina’s spine. She can see Heeseung’s back tense when you tell him how your date came to be. The air feels almost murderous as he gently squeezes your thighs.

It kills Heeseung that he was almost too late in stopping you from meeting some strange guy in the pretty little dress you have on. He softly rubs your thighs, eyes simmering with anger and desire he doesn’t care to hide. Not anymore.

“Oh, angel.” Your stepbrother murmurs, hands slowly trailing up to your thighs. “You know you’re my favorite girl, right?”

An unsuspecting smile graces your lips. “Yeah. And you’re my favorite guy.”

Heeseung hums in satisfaction as his fingers ghost the edges of your dress. He watches your eyebrows furrow, but you don’t say anything. As always, you have blind trust in your stepbrother. That’s all the indication he needs to get up and push you down on his bed. Heeseung hovers over you, loving how you’re staring up at him with sparkling, wide eyes. He swoops down to capture your lips in a searing kiss.

Your heart is racing in your chest as Heeseung forces his tongue into your mouth. Despite the initial shock, you quickly melt into the kiss. He swallows your moans, pulling you closer as he deepens the messy kiss. You mewl into his mouth, carding your fingers through his hair with desire you had never realized you had for him.

Meanwhile, Mina can only watch as her boyfriend kisses you with a passion that he clearly never felt for her. It feels like her heart is ripping in half as Heeseung begins to undress you. Tears well up in her eyes when he groans at the sight of the lingerie adorning your body. Mina can see how hard he is from where she’s standing, and the desire in his eyes is very different from the way he looks at her.

“Can’t believe you got all pretty for some other boy.” Heeseung spits as he starts to undress. “Were planning on letting him fuck you?”

You shake your head and go to speak, but you can’t when Heeseung roughly pulls off your lingerie then his own underwear. His cock is thick and big, possibly the biggest you’ve ever seen. It’s twitching and leaking as he looks at you with his dark eyes.

“W-We shouldn’t be doing this.” You whine as Heeseung shoves your thighs to your stomach and licks a broad stripe up your wet pussy.

Your stepbrother groans at your sweet taste, thrusting his tongue into your dripping hole. He laps up the juices leaking out of your slit, circling his tongue on your clit for good measure. The noise you let out is downright pornographic and pure music to Heeseung’s ears.

“Seungie!” You keen as you spread your legs and tangle your hands in his messy hair. “I– Fuck!”

Heeseung pulls back with a wet slurp to spread your cunt open with his big hands. “God. You have the prettiest pussy I’ve ever seen, angel. Just had to taste it.”

Each one of his words is like a dagger to Mina’s heart and confidence. Wet tears trickle down her face, but she doesn’t say anything as you pull on her boyfriend’s hair. Heeseung only moans and dives back into your slick cunt. He greedily laps up everything that drips out of you, sucking and kissing your clit.

“We shouldn’t be doing this, Hee.” You repeat through a needy mewl, making no attempt to stop him. In fact, you buck your pussy into his mouth as he sucks on your sensitive bud.

“Shh, angel.” Heeseung shushes as he flicks his tongue across your swollen bud. “Just relax and let me eat you out. Been wanting to do this for so long.”

Mina swallows thickly, the hurt slowly being replaced by something else. Her eyes grow bigger when she realizes which feeling is taking over. She shifts slightly, feeling a familiar wetness begin to pool in her panties. Mina feels sick that the sight of her boyfriend cheating on her can turn her on, and she thinks that she should leave right now and never return.

But she stays.

Mina licks her lips and continues to watch. Even she can’t help but think how hot you look, whimpering and writhing as Heeseung pushes your thighs apart so he can bury his face deeper in your pussy. He flicks his tongue, slowly descending until he’s lapping at your hole, slowly fucking the wet muscle in and out. Your eyes roll back as your stepbrother eats your pussy like it’s the best thing he’s ever tasted.

The sounds coming from your pussy and the way Heeseung messily eats you out has Mina’s own cunt clenching with need. She can feel her underwear start to stick to her cunt as she watches her boyfriend lap up your arousal like a starved man. Mina bites her lip, feeling sick and twisted for being turned on by your pretty moans.

Heeseung suddenly pulls away, but not before he slaps your thigh playfully. He goes to lay on his back all while wearing a filthy smirk. “Sit on my face.”

You bite your lip as a hot flash of arousal pulses through your body. Both your and Mina’s cunts throb at the suggestion. Heeseung sees your hesitation, but doesn’t back down.

“C’mon, baby. Be a good little stepsister and ride my fucking face.” He growls out with dark eyes.

With your pussy dripping, you crawl over to him and kneel over his face. Mina watches with heated eyes as you slowly lower your cunt on her boyfriend’s face. The heat in her stomach grows when she hears Heeseung groan in satisfaction.

“That’s it. I want your pretty pussy suffocating me.”

With that, your stepbrother grabs your hips and pulls your cunt down onto his face with a groan. Mewling quietly, you rub your cunt all over his mouth. Every time he moans or grunts, it sends little vibrations through your pussy. The delicious feeling has you grinding down on his tongue as you chase that feeling. Heeseung eagerly fucks his wet muscle into your hot cunt, already addicted to your sweet taste.

Mina swallows thickly when he sees Heeseung thrusting into the air as he eats you out. His cock is leaking and throbbing with need. Fuck. How she’d like to go and lick all that up, to have him fuck her mouth as he fucks you with his tongue. Mina rubs her thighs to soothe the growing ache in her pussy as she watches you ride Heeseung’s face.

Your eyes roll back when your stepbrother slaps your ass. A loud squeal spills from your lips as Heeseung keeps fucking his tongue up into your cunt. He grabs your ass and kneads it roughly. With one last groan and flick of his tongue, he sits up and takes you with him. The effortless display of strength turns both women on, one containing her moan while the other cries out as she’s pressed back into the mattress.

“Such a sweet little cunt.” Heeseung moans as he buries his face back into your dripping cunt. “Shit, Y/N. You’re fucking soaked down here.”

“Heeseung!” You cry out as he pries your thighs further apart. Your stepbrother shakes his head to grind his tongue against your sensitive cunt.

“Fuck, you have the hottest little pussy.” Heeseung lifts his head with a groan, lips shiny with your arousal. “Missed eating some good pussy. It’s been so long.”

Mina feels pathetic that her cunt throbs at his degrading words. She bites her lip, hands trailing up her thigh and to her soaked underwear. It’s so filthy and humiliating, but the ache in her pussy is getting to be too much. She slowly rubs circles on her covered cunt as she keeps watching her boyfriend cheat on her.

“Fuck, Seungie.” You mewl desperately. “S-Shouldn’t like having your face buried in my cunt.”

Heeseung smirks into your wetness. He gently circles his tongue on your clit, kissing it tenderly before he gently starts to nip at it with his teeth. Mina shoves her panties aside when you moan out in pleasure. Now she’s furiously rubbing at her bare pussy, wanting to see you cum on her boyfriend’s face.

“But you do, baby. You like me fucking you with my tongue, and I fucking love eating this sweet little pussy.”

Your hips buck up at the words, grinding your cunt against his mouth as you moan for him. Juices drip out of you lewdly, leaking down to your ass and onto Heeseung’s sheets. Your head is swimming with pleasure, and you have to remember that this is all so very wrong.

“You like that?” Heeseung teases you, loving how you’ve turned into putty in his hands. “Answer me, Y/N. Do you like your stepbrother telling you how much he loves tasting your juicy cunt?”

Your back arches when Heeseung sucks your puffy bud into his mouth. “God—yes! Feels so fucking good, Hee! Love having your mouth on my pussy.”

Heeseung growls, the vibrations making your cunt throb as he sucks and licks your swollen clit. Eager to have you cum on his tongue, he slips two fingers into your fluttering hole. Mina follows in suit, unable to take her eyes off the erotic sight of you getting ate out and fingered. Fuck. This was better than any porn she had ever watched. Her hand is dripping with her own arousal, and she can’t even feel disgusted anymore that she’s so turned on by the entire situation.

“Mmmh, shit, Hee.” You whine as the tips of his fingers brush against the gummy spot inside you. “You’re gonna make me cum.”

“Do it, baby. Cream all over my tongue.” He purrs in delight. “Be a good girl and cum for me.”

Heeseung flattens his tongue on your clit while his fingers grind into the spongy spot in your cunt. Your back arches off the bed, orgasm whiting out your thoughts as you cum around his long fingers.

Mina has to cover her mouth as Heeseung moans along with you. By now she’s shoved her fingers into her sopping pussy, the squelching sound is drowned out from the sounds coming from your own pussy. The filthy sight is driving her wild, and she’s so delirious with arousal that she wishes Heeseung would just fuck you already.

“You’re amazing, angel.” Your stepbrother praises with his fingers still buried knuckle deep in your pussy as he softly strokes your velvety walls. “So soft and wet. It makes me want to shove my dick into your tight little hole.”

Heeseung slowly pulls his fingers out of you, and you can only watched with a lidded gaze as he moves his body between your thighs. His cock is twitching and leaking as he grabs the base. He smacks his cock down on your slippery pussy, dragging his drooling tip up and down your slit slowly. Mina has to press her hand into her mouth harder to stifle her filthy moans. The sight of her boyfriend pressing his drooling cockhead into your soaking pussy is so hot she might just cum all over her fingers.

“S-Seungie—fuck. We shouldn’t.” You whimper as he leans forward and braces his arms by your head.

You and Mina both know you don’t really mean your words. It’s clear that you want your stepbrother to split you open on his big cock. That becomes obvious when you don’t try to stop him as he shoves his cock into your pussy until he bottoms out completely, balls pressing against your ass. Shuddering with pleasure, you scratch your nails up his arms as you sink into the bed.

“Pretty pussy was meant to take my cock.” Heeseung growls, already drunk on the feeling of your cunt wrapped around his dick. “Fuck. I know it’s wrong, baby, but I just couldn’t help myself. Your hot little cunt was just begging for my dick. Doesn’t it feel all nice and full having your pussy stuffed with your stepbrother’s big cock?"

Mina starts fucking herself harder when you nod desperately. Your hands go to tangle in his hair as you grind your hips up to meet his thrusts. “Yes! Fuck! Love my stepbrother’s cock stretching me open! Feels so fucking good, Hee!”

Mina knows better than anyone how good you must feel. Although, she imagines you feel must better than she ever did because from the way Heeseung’s fucking you, she can tell he’s doing it with much more enthusiasm and passion. Even his moans are more guttural and full of more pleasure than she’d ever heard. They’re deep as he pulls out until just his tip is spearing you open. Then, he pushes forward, thrusting his cock deep into your fluttering walls.

“That’s it. Tell me how good it feels.” Heeseung leans down, lips brushing against yours. “Don’t be shy, angel. Let me know how much you like this cock fucking you.”

You gasp wantonly and pull him down further to press your lips together. He groans and licks into your mouth easily, tongue slipping past your lips as his cock thrusts deep into your hot, wet cunt. Your hips buck up to meet his, loving how his dick rams into your sweet spot over and over until your sight is painted with pretty little stars.

“Fucking love it, Hee.” You moan between sloppy kisses. “God—I love your cock!”

The coil in Mina’s stomach is close to snapping. By now, her juices are dripping down to her wrist. Luckily, the lewd squelching and sound of skin slapping together drown out any noise she’s making. Heeseung is fucking you so hard and good that she can smell the musky scent of sex from where she’s standing. The erotic aroma turns her on even more, pussy clamping down on her fingers in desperate need of release.

“Tight little pussy feels so good.” Heeseung moans out between the quick pecks he’s giving you. “God, I love you, Y/N. So fucking much.”

Your heart races as Mina’s breaks all over again. It hurts, but somehow that just turns her on even more. She keeps fingering herself as tears pool in her eyes.

With a low moan, your pussy clamps down on Heeseung’s dick tightly as you go to eagerly kiss him. A soft I love you, too goes unnoticed by Mina, but not by your stepbrother. He groans into your mouth, cock throbbing inside you.

“Mmmh.” Heeseung hums against your lips before he trails wet kisses down your neck. “I love my gorgeous girl. That’s why this feels so good. Even your tight little pussy knows how much I love you.”

His gorgeous girl? Mina thinks deliriously, orgasm dangerously close. It’s something he never referred to her as.

You cry out loudly when Heeseung bites your neck and sucks the skin into his mouth. His hips rock against yours, balls smacking against your ass as his pelvis grinds down on your swollen clit.

“Seungie!” You whine in ecstasy. “I’m getting close.”

Your stepbrother doesn’t let up. In fact, his thrusts seem to get faster and rougher. His cock pistons in and out of your cunt, creating sloppy wet sounds as you get even wetter. His eyes are dark as he pulls back to look at you, all pretty squirming and trembling on his cock.

“Cum for me, baby. Cover my cock with your sweet cream so I can fill you up.” Heeseung pants. “Cum on my cock, angel.”

His teeth sink into your neck again, and it pushes you over the edge. Your hot cunt throbs as you squeeze down on his cock. Somehow your pussy only gets tighter and tighter as you get fucked through your orgasm. You tighten your legs around his waist until he can barely pull out, rutting his cock in short shallow thrusts as your climax starts to taper off.

“So fucking tight.” Heeseung hisses by your ear. “Shit, baby. Get ready. I’m about to creampie your cute little pussy. Fuck, fuck, fuck!”

With a strangled grunt, he buries his cock to the hilt and shoots his load deep inside your fluttering walls while your pussy softly milks him for every drop of his hot cum. Mina reaches her own climax when she sees her boyfriend cumming inside you. She has to stifle her moans as she trembles and shakes outside the room that’s filled with the smell and sounds of hot sex.

“You’re taking it so well, angel.” Heeseung kisses your jaw tenderly as his fat tip spurts rope after rope of his thick cum into your clenching heat. “Milking my cock like I knew you would.”

He grinds his hips down, cock pulsing as he finishes stuffing you full of his hot, sticky load. Your stepbrother fucks his cum inside a bit more before reluctantly pulling out. Heeseung’s cock throbs as he watches his seed drip from your messy pussy.

He licks his lips, heated gaze never leaving your body. “Let’s do it again.”

You don’t try to protest as your manhandles into a different position. Mina is still coming down from her high when she realizes her boyfriend is still hard and about to fuck you again. She knows she shouldn’t feel excited or aroused by the fact, but she does. Especially when your face is shoved into one of Heeseung’s pillows just before his big cock rails back into your needy pussy.

Heeseung starts fucking you so hard his headboard slams into the wall repeatedly. The harsh sound pairs well with the plop plop plop sound coming from your cunt.

“God, Y/N. You’re so fucking good for me.” Heeseung groans when you clench down on him.

You moan loudly, bouncing yourself back on his cock. “Fu-Fuck, Seungie. This is wrong. We s-shouldn’t be doing this.”

“I know.” Your stepbrother smacks your ass, not sounding the least bit remorseful. “It’s so dirty baby, but I couldn’t help myself. Had to get my dick wet using your pretty little pussy.”

“Mmmh!” You whine out mindlessly, face turned to the side with your ass raised in the air for Heeseung to fuck deeper into your wet hole. “Feels so fucking good!”

“Yeah, it does.” Heeseung’s laugh sounds almost mean as he speeds up his thrusts to fuck his cock harder into your sopping cunt. “Your cute little pussy is the best I’ve ever had.”

His words shouldn’t please you as much as they do, but those lewd words turn you on so much that you can’t stop your cunt from tightening around him as he keeps spearing into you like an animal in heat. They also shouldn’t turn on Heeseung’s girlfriend but that’s exactly what they do. She isn’t angry, only extremely aroused as your ass bounces back on your stepbrother’s pelvis.

“Fuck!” Heeseung groans, fucking his cock right into your g-spot. “You’re so fucking hot, angel.”

You are. So hot that Mina finds herself wishing she could eat Heeseung’s cum out of your pretty cunt. She just knows you taste good, and mixed with her boyfriend she’s sure you must taste even better.

“Seungie, please!” You cry out, dizzy with arousal.

“Shit.” He growls, slipping a hand underneath your hips to rub fast circles on your clit. “Gonna make you cream on my cock again.”

“Heeseung!” You squeal as he picks up his pace, ramming into your squelching pussy as he rubs soft circles into your swollen clit.

Your stepbrother shoves his cock deep into your cunt and grinds, making you squirm and whine as his dick rubs against the spongy spot in your pussy. Your hands twist in the sheets. He flicks and pinches your puffy clit. God, do you look good, and so does Heeseung. Mina is groping one of her tits while the other hand goes to play with her pussy again. Briefly, she thinks she wouldn’t mind having a video of you two fucking so she can watch it over and over again.

“Hee, I’m gonna cum.” You moan against the pillow.

“Do it, baby.” He encourages you, free hand coming down to slap your ass hard. “Cum all over my cock. Want to feel your hot cunt squeeze me.”

It’s not long before your orgasm hits. You’re screaming into your pillow as your cream coats Heeseung’s big cock. Your pussy clamps rhythmically around his dick. Mina can’t see you, but with the way your toes are curling she can tell your eyes are rolling to the back of your head in pure ecstasy.

“Oh, baby. You feel so fucking good.” Heeseung praises you. His hands move to slap your ass again, making you squeal and tighten again. “Fucking work your little pussy on my cock. Fuck. Need to fill you up again.”

“Want you to stuff me full.” You whine back at him, pussy fluttering at the thought of Heeseung’s cum filling your cunt again.

“Yeah?” Your stepbrother laughs, sounding way too delighted. “Want me to creampie your hot little cunt again?”

“Please!” You whine as Heeseung’s fingers slide over your hip to start working soft circles into your clit again. You writhe back on him, feeling yourself get even wetter at the filthy thought of him shooting his hot load inside you.

“Cum inside me, Hee.” You pant, mewling when his fingers rub your clit even faster. “Want it so bad. Want to feel it.”

“Oh, fuck.” Heeseung groans, hips snapping hard against your ass when he feels how tight you’ve gotten. “You ready, baby? Fucking take it. Take your stepbrother’s cum in your needy little cunt.”

You moan loudly when you feel his hot cum filling your pussy, stuffing you so full it drips out around his cock. Heeseung ruts his spent cock into your sloppy pussy as he pinches your clit, watching as your back arches as a fourth orgasm sweeps through you. You lazily fuck your cunt back into him, loving the feeling of his cum dripping out of you and coating your thighs.

Heeseung pulls out of your warm cunt with a low groan. He’s quick to pull you against his chest and lays you down with him. His face is buried in your hair, eyes closed in bliss as you both try to catch your breaths. You feel his smile in your hair as he cuddles you and murmurs sweet praises against your temple.

Through your drooping eyes, you catch sight of Mina. Her eyes widen when you two make eye contact. You can’t hide your smirk when you see that she was masturbating to the sight of Heeseung fucking you raw. Instead of saying anything, you give her a seductive wink. Mina clenches around her fingers because the wink is full of understanding and promises.

It’s clear that Heeseung was never hers, but maybe you wouldn’t mind sharing.

#heeseung smut #lee heeseung smut #enhypen smut #enha smut #heeseung x reader #lee heeseung x reader #enhypen x reader #enha x reader

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jeonsweetpea · 8 months ago

Text

Will It Fit?

Roommate!AU | Roommate!Jungkook x Reader

genre: fluff, smut, comedy, lil angst, slight idiots to lovers

rating: explicit

description: So what if your roommate caught you masturbating? At least he forgot about it the next day. But he can’t exactly forget the big dildo you left in your shared bathroom…

word count: 6.7k

warnings: size kink, JK has a big dick (no, really), slight pain kink, light choking, dirty talk, Dom!JK, flustered/shy JK at first, unprotected sex (this is fiction, we all wanna be raw-dogged by JK okay), lube, JK loves OC’s panties a LOT, fingering, mentions of masturbation, OC gets embarrassed at first but JK is sweet about it, oral sex (male & female receiving), cursing, Soft Dom!JK, JK is overly concerned with how big your dildo is, embarrassing moments from both parties, spanking, prone bone, creampie, confession scenes,

a/n: As soon as I saw JK’s OJO face from that GCF, it kicked me into gear to write this. I’ve had this idea for SO long, but never had the motivation to finish it. I was supposed to release it last winter, so hope you’re all excited for it! Asks and reblogs are much appreciated (I read them all!). Also, much love to @jkeuphoriadreamland for bouncing ideas around with me.

“[Y/N], I can hear you in there.”

The muffled, disgruntled voice came from the other side of your door. Your eyes fluttered open and your hand stilled in your panties, your heart rate spiking. Maybe if you didn’t move a muscle, he’d go away.

“I know you’re up,” he added. You rose up from your bed.

“Um… exactly what did you hear?” you squealed, face burning up at your terrible acting skills.

“Unlock this door.”

You didn't know what compelled you to saunter over and open the door a mere crack, but oh the sight before you was almost worth the humiliation. Jungkook was in nothing but gray sweats that sat dangerously low on his hips. He had a bad case of bedhead, but his locks looked so soft that you wanted nothing more than to grab onto them and make out with his beautiful lips, which were captivating you just as much as that intense gaze of his.

“Hey… you…” you said with a meek smile, which he did not return.

“It’s 2 AM in the morning. I have work at 5. As hot as you sound, we either do something together so we both get satisfied or you let me get my rest because I am incredibly frustrated right now.”

Your eyes widened at his curt response. You’ve never seen him so tense, his tongue prodding the inside of his cheek as his glare bore into you. He leaned against your door frame with one arm, leaning in close enough to make you break eye contact. He tapped on the wooden frame with his index finger, awaiting your response.

“Sorry…”

God, you sounded absolutely pathetic .

“Is that all your pretty lips are good for? Apologizing?” Before you could respond, he let out a tsk sound and retreated back to his bedroom. You stood there in a trance until his door shut loudly, snapping you out of it. You wondered if he realized how much worse he left you than when he found you.

Fuck, was he always this hot when mad?

You went back to your room after closing the door. Climbing into bed, you got under the covers and laid flat on your back deep in thought. The only reason you were masturbating in the first place was because your room was freezing cold. You thought the heater was fixed, but your room was somehow still the coldest one in the apartment. You knew you’d never be able to go to sleep at this rate, so you decided to do something that would tire you out and hopefully lull you into the rest you craved.

It was supposed to be simple. You, your hand, your phone, and sweet, sweet release. Damn Jungkook for interrupting you. It’s bad enough his room was nice and toasty while you were suffering. Yeah, you heard his loudass snores. You assumed he was deep in the REM cycle so how the hell did he catch your moans? Ugh.

If he was so annoyed with you, then he should have warmed you up instead!

You shook your head and got under the covers, groaning at your lewd thoughts.

He’s my roommate. And he’s too good of a roommate for me to fuck things up.

“Is that all your pretty lips are good for? Apologizing?”

Those words echoed in your mind. The way he changed his tone to a lower register with his Busan dialect slipping through was incredibly sexy. It was the perfect mix of frustration and anger and made your thighs rub together in want. Leaning over your nightstand, you opened the drawer and grabbed a velvet drawstring bag. Slipping off your pajama shorts, you pulled out your trusty dildo. Impatient, you closed your eyes and imagined Jungkook taking you right then and there. However, the moment you allowed the tip of the dildo to touch your entrance, all pleasure was lost. It was cold!

“Damn it…” you muttered. “I gotta warm it up. Ugh!”

You left your room in frustration and entered the bathroom, turning the sink on to the hottest setting and running it over your toy.

This might’ve been the most desperate masturbation session you’ve ever had, but you didn’t care. This was all Jungkook’s fault!

The next morning was Saturday. You were eating your breakfast on the kitchen island while mindlessly scrolling on your phone when Jungkook came out of his room. As soon as you two locked eyes, you almost choked on your food and had to chug some water to calm down. The man, confused, ruffled his hair and watched you through drowsy eyes.

“Are you okay?” he said, followed by a yawn.

You nodded as you beat your chest with your fist to get everything down. “Yeah… I just… didn’t expect you to be home. I thought you had work.”

“Oh,” He sounded more awake now. “I read my schedule wrong. Turns out I’m off every other Saturday now.”

“... Oh. Cool.”

He circled around the kitchen island to get to the fridge and you recalled last night’s events, mortified he had heard you. Should you apologize again? After all, you’re both two grown adults; there’s nothing to be ashamed about. If you didn’t say something now, that icky feeling would only fester inside you.

“Hey Jungkook.”

“Yeah?” he said from behind the fridge door.

“About yesterday… I hope you can forget all about it.”

As the refrigerator door shut, you were greeted by the sight of the most adorable man sipping a carton of banana milk. His eyes were wide and brimming with curiosity from your words.

“Did something happen yesterday? I was knocked out.”

You blinked at him twice. “Do you… not remember talking to me last night?”

“Hmm? I did? I was fast asleep, don’t remember a thing.” He took the seat next to you. “Why? What did we talk about?”

Pure relief washed over you like a tidal wave as you shook your head. “Oh, nothing much. My room’s a bit too cold. It was hard for me to sleep.”

“I’m sorry. I’ll talk to the landlord. Do you want to sleep with me?” You shot him an incredulous look and he began to stutter. “I-I mean! Sleep in my bed! Not with me in it. Unless you wanted to—ah—fuck me!

There. That’s the Jungkook you knew. He’s never crossed the line and flirted with you, so you didn’t either out of respect. But… It was too hard to resist teasing him. This was too good of an opportunity to pass up.

“Unless I wanted to… fuck you?” you repeated innocently. This was new territory for you—teasing him. His flustered reactions were so damn adorable though. The way his nose scrunched and his eyes darted around everywhere except for your face. If anyone was watching you, they’d swore you had hearts in your eyes.

He set his drink down and proceeded to cover his face with both hands, panicking at his poor choice of words. “That didn’t come out right. Oh god… this is embarrassing.”

You covered your mouth to stifle your giggles. “It’s okay. I don’t want to peg you—I mean, take your bed.”

Jungkook dropped his hands, speaking the next sentence in pouts. “Hey, I don’t want to be peg—not the point. No, seriously. My room’s really warm.”

“I mean… if you really want me in your room, all you have to do is ask, you know,” you remarked. Jungkook’s cheeks were flushed with a tinge of pink, adding an extra charming element to his already cute self. Were you being too bold?

It didn’t matter because seeing how his lips trembled and how he could barely hold himself together was fun to watch.

“I didn’t realize it was that easy…” he mumbled, more to himself than you. You tilted your head at him and he noticed how you crossed one arm over another “Not that I’m calling you easy!”

“Uh huh. I’m watching you, Jeon Jungkook. Hmph.”

“No, wait. I’m sorry.”

You placed your index finger on his lips to shush him, even going so far as to tap his lip piercing teasingly. “Is that all your pretty lips are good for? Apologizing?”

You watched as his eyes widened once more and that caused you to realize what you were doing. My god. Using his own words against him was satisfying, but all this newfound confidence was going to get you in trouble. You cleared your throat and withdrew your hand, grabbing your breakfast plate and heading over to the sink before things could escalate.

“Uh… I’m gonna go to the gym. Run some errands or something,” Jungkook stammered as he got up, nearly toppling out of his stool. You bit your lip to hold in your laughter as he recomposed himself. Walking in the same direction, he flinched when you got near his proximity. “W-What are you doing?”

He’s so cute when nervous.

“Nothing. Grabbing my keys. I’m heading out too.”

“O-Okay.”

Your smile made his heart rate escalate. “Okay. I’ll see you later.”

You spent the day with your closest friends on a brunch date, followed by a trip to the mall, and then hot cocoa in the evening. It was much needed after the week you had and after bidding them farewell, you went back to your apartment. Upon entering, you took off your shoes and put them on the shoe rack.

“Jungkook? Are you home?” you called out.

“Yeah! I just finished showering!” he called back in the distance. You went further into the apartment and plopped down on the couch.

“Damn,” you muttered, rubbing your arms. “Wish I could have showered with him. It’s so cold outside…”

As if on cue, Jungkook called for you again. “[Y/N]? Could you come here?”

You took off your purse and slowly rose up from the couch, hesitant. This had to be a dream. Why would he need you to come to the bathroom? He must’ve forgotten a towel. Or a t-shirt. Or pants. The specifics didn’t really matter because your hormones were going berserk at the possibilities.

You walked through the narrow hallway and stood in front of the bathroom door, excited at the thought of teasing him again. “I’m here. What’s up? Did you forget your towel or something? Silly boy.”

The door swung open and the shit-eating grin you had on your face dropped to the floor in an instant.

“Why is there a dildo in the bathroom, silly girl?”

Shit. Quick, say something. Anything. Don’t just stand there like a gaping fish! Oh dear, how many seconds have passed? You must look like a total idiot.

Fuck! I forgot I left it here!!!

“Well…” you started to say, “I’m assuming it’s yours.”

Out of all the things your roommate could be calling you for, this was not on your radar. The awkwardness was more suffocating than the steam from his blazing hot shower minutes ago and you wished it lingered around long enough to make you disappear.

Jungkook made a puckered face at your accusation, picked up the object, and shook it side to side, the bendy silicone material flopping everywhere. His big doe eyes were the highlight of his classic OJO face, the blatant confusion so adorable if you weren’t absolutely mortified. For the second time this week.

God, and how could you even focus when he was dressed in nothing but a towel, his hair still slightly damp. The bulging muscles of his biceps were a feast for the eyes as well as his tattooed sleeve. You yearned for the day he’d use his arm as your necklace, but of course that shouldn’t be a priority at the moment. If anything, it was his fault you had to use a dildo anyway.

“[Y/N], you know damn well this isn’t mine.” He met your gaze and flashed you a soft smile, biting his lower lip. “I like mine bigger.”

You covered your face in shame, wishing the floor could open up and swallow you whole. “Good god, Jeon.”

“You still didn’t answer my question. Why is it in the bathroom?”

You gulped, finding enough strength to not die of embarrassment. “It’s getting colder outside and the heater doesn’t reach my room as well as it reaches yours. So…”

“Yeah…? But I’m not following.”

“The… thing in your hand—”

“Dildo?”

You visibly cringed. “Yes, okay, THAT. It got cold and I don’t like cold objects... Inside me. So I took it to the bathroom to run hot water on it to warm it up.”

“Before you use it?”

“No, to melt it. Yes, to use it!” you snapped, feeling the humiliation burning through your body. “I wasn’t aware you weren’t working today, remember? I clean it after each use so please just give it back!”

You ran over to yank it out of his hands, but he lifted it up high out of your reach. While cackling. That motherfucker. “Hey, maybe I want a turn.”

You had to bite back. “I knew you liked being pegged.”

“I do not!”

“Then give it back!”

“This thing is huge though. It fits?”

“I’m not having this conversation with you right now.” You jumped up but failed to reach it due to his quick reflexes.

“Doesn’t it hurt? Because if something this big went up my—”

“Jungkook!”

“I’m just saying!” he said with his arms up in the air like you were about to tase him. “I find it hard to believe, that’s all. It’s really big. Like damn.”

Without thinking, you ripped his towel off his waist and he gasped, scrambling to shield his privates while you seized the opportunity to get your toy back.

You stormed out of the bathroom and ran to your room, locking the door afterwards. Falling to your knees, the embarrassment caught up to you, causing you to hang your head low in shame. You could hear the soft shuffling sounds of his footsteps approaching your door, followed by a gentle knock.

“[Y/N]? Are you okay?” He pressed his ear against the door to hear small sniffles. “Shit. I’m sorry. I wasn’t trying to make you upset. I was teasing, I thought you wanted to tease me back and—I guess I took it too far.”

“Go away, Jeon,” you said, throwing the dildo at the door. Jungkook nearly had a heart attack at the loud thump and jolted back, clutching his chest.

“Holy shit, that scared me,” he said, which earned a small chuckle from you despite the tears. “Hey… come on out. Please. I’m not judging you.”

“No. I’m humiliated. You heard me yesterday and now caught me today. I can’t face you ever again. It’s over!”

He placed a hand on your door, a soft chuckle escaping his lips. “I didn’t even know we started, so how could we be over? You’re cute.”

That made you snap your head up. You quickly wiped away your tears and rose from the floor. “This isn’t fair… I’ve been embarrassed twice now.”

“I don’t even know what you’re talking about.”

“You heard me masturbating yesterday!” you exclaimed, frustrated at his obliviousness. “You woke up and told me I had pretty lips or whatever and suggested we do something about it together!”

“I mean, you do have pretty lips. Yup. That sounds like me, yeah,” he said, nodding to himself. “But I really don’t remember. Come on out. I wanna see you.”

“No.”

“Would it help if I shared something embarrassing about me?”

You narrowed your eyes at the door, considering his offer. “... Go on…”

He sighed, scratching the back of his head sheepishly. “Well… you know how I’ve been doing your laundry for you?”

“Yeah…”

It was your most hated chore. Putting the clothes into the washer and dryer wasn’t your issue, but folding them was so tedious. So you and him made a deal. You were in charge of dishes and he would do the laundry. However, the one thing you refused to let Jungkook wash for you were your bras and panties. Those you handled yourself.

“You… left a pair of panties in my basket once by mistake.”

“I did?”

“Yeah. I washed them for you but um… before that, I might’ve… sort’ve… jerked off with them.”

Your doorknob jostled for a second as you unlocked it. Jungkook waited as the door swung open and was greeted by a displeased you, hands on your hips and all.

“What? They were really pretty…” he added. “They were pink and had lace—”

“You… PERVERT!” you shouted, hitting his chest repeatedly. Of course, you were aware your feeble punches did nothing to his insanely toned pecs. Jungkook stared at you fondly, catching the hint of a smile that threatened to spill from your lips.

“Oh, I’m a pervert? Says the girl who has an 8-inch dildo,” he countered, snatching both your wrists.

“At least I’m able to take 8-inches!” you retorted, laughing at the situation. He joined in your laughter and then said,

“Good! That means you’ll be able to handle me!”

Your brain fizzled out at this point as the laughter subsided. “... What?”

Jungkook’s Adam's apple bobbed up and down as he gulped. “... You heard me. Go ahead, take off my towel again. See for yourself.”

He guided your hands downward to the soft fabric, which was already on the verge of unraveling itself with his prior movements. You stared at his pelvic lines, excitement bubbling beneath the surface while you tried your best to maintain a calm expression.

“... Pervert,” you mumbled. Jungkook chuckled, taking one of your hands and placing it directly on his boner.

“Maybe. But only you can make me feel this way.”

You bit your lip, feeling the heat radiating from beneath the fabric and your curiosity peaked. Tucking a finger into the towel, you pulled it down and let it fall to the ground.

A loud squeal came from your lips as you covered your mouth. “Holy shit!”

Jungkook covered himself after seeing your reaction with both hands, embarrassment crawling up his spine. “Sorry, I’ll put it away.”

“No, no, no!” you said, putting your hands out in a stop motion. “Sorry, I just… you… you weren’t kidding.”

“Does it scare you?” His tone was sincere, his eyes genuinely showing concern. “Because… I don’t want to hurt you. And I know it can hurt. That’s why I was so curious about the dildo. Will it fit? Will I fit…?”

You couldn’t help but laugh at how he phrased it, but quickly stopped when you noticed the fear in his eyes. Your thoughts wandered to if he had slept with someone prior and if it wasn’t a pleasant experience. Truth be told, you’ve never been with anyone as big as him so it’s all new for you.

“Well… if I’m prepared well enough, I can take it. The dildo fits but sometimes not all of it goes in. Um… man, this is embarrassing to talk about, ahhh. I feel like I keep making a fool of myself in front of you.”

Jungkook’s gaze softened at your vulnerability, taking your hand and placing it on his chest. His heart was beating just as rapidly as yours if not more. Then he put his other hand on the small of your back, pulling you close.

“That makes two of us. But you make me crazy.”

He was so close that your senses were intoxicated with the fresh scent of eucalyptus and cotton wafting off him. His eyes shifted to your lips for a split second before meeting your gaze once more.

“I really want to kiss these pretty lips of yours… If you’ll let me,” he said, tracing your bottom lip with his thumb and whispering the last part.

You begged him to kiss you already, so he leaned in and finally pressed his warm lips against yours as you closed your eyes. It started off as a gentle smooch, like a little tease to test the waters. When he pulled back, you leaned forward and chased his lips urgently. You felt him smiling into the kiss as he moved in tandem with you, deepening the kiss while switching positions to press you against a wall. One of his hands pinned your wrists above your head while his free hand slithered down the side of your body until it rested on your hip, giving you a firm squeeze.

“Jung—mmph—Jungkook…” you moaned. He used that chance to ease his tongue into your mouth and the kiss went from passionate to messy. When you moved your wrists in the slightest, he asserted dominance and pinned them back down into place.

“You think I’m going to let you go so easily now that I have you?” he asked, the hunger in his voice evident. He carefully tugged your bottom lip in between his teeth and pulled it back in a seductive motion, which turned you on even more.

Once he broke the kiss, the only thing that remained was a string of saliva that broke seconds later.

“I’ve been wanting to do that for so long,” he said in between pants.

“Since you’ve jerked off to my panties?” you teased while catching your breath.

He rolled his eyes. “Like you’ve never rubbed one out to me before.”

You scrunched up your nose at his response, unable to counteract his statement right away. “Hey… I wouldn’t have had to rub one out if you warmed me up in this cold weather.”

He smirked. “All you had to do was ask, you know.”

Releasing your hands, Jungkook went into your room and grabbed the dildo off the floor. He left you for a short moment and you waited there, confused, until you heard the sound of running water. He came back a minute later and then grabbed your hand, leading you to his bedroom.

“Had to wash it. Don’t worry, I’ll warm you up properly for the real thing.”

He guided you to his bed and helped you remove your jacket, blouse, and leggings. His grin was extra toothy because the set you were wearing was the exact set he jerked off too before.

“What?” you asked, amused.

“N-Nothing.”

When your back was turned for a second, he mouthed the words ‘Oh my god’ and pressed his hands together as if thanking the universe for this very moment.

Now left in your bra and panties, you laid on his bed and he climbed on top of you, his lips latching onto the side of your neck. You mewled at the sizzling contact, pulling him close by his soft locks so that his hot skin was pressed against yours. He trailed his searing kisses down to your collarbone and then settled between the valley of your breasts.

“The bra is pretty… you’re so pretty,” he said, full of admiration. He pulled one of the cups down to gain access to your breasts, capturing your perky nipple between his lips. He sucked tenderly, swirling his tongue around before tugging on it hard enough to elicit a moan. His other hand was greedy, slithering into your already soaked panties. His middle finger dipped in between your folds and he rubbed in circular motions to coax some more slick out of you.

As you arched your back and moaned his name, he dipped one finger into you and began to pump it slowly. He added another one when you begged for it, sounding so desperate that he had to oblige.

“Please fuck me already. I can’t take it,” you breathed. Jungkook only curled his fingers deeper inside, grazing your sweet spot while shaking his head.

“Patience, beautiful. I need to make sure your sweet pussy can take it, remember? Gotta prep you well.”

“But I can take it, I can, oh god please.”

“If you’re a good girl for me. Can you take another finger?”

You nodded eagerly, so he added a third finger and you squeezed your eyes shut from the delicious burn.

“Are you okay?” Jungkook asked, observing your expressions carefully. You clutched onto the pillow and panted heavily.

“Y-Yeah, I—god—your fingers feel good…”

He began to finger you with all three digits, the tightness of your walls bringing some resistance to his actions. But with a few more neck kisses to relax you, it became easier and you became more undone.

“You’re doing so well,” he whispered into your ear, his heavy breath tickling it. He finally removed his fingers and grabbed the dildo at the end of the bed, bringing up to your lips.

“Show me what those pretty lips of yours can do.”

You stuck out your tongue and licked a long stripe on the toy in a tantalizing slow motion, causing Jungkook to grunt. That damn smile of yours was going to kill him. You were the perfect minx—sweet and naughty. He didn’t have to tell you to suck it because you already were.

“Such a good girl. You’re going to handle my cock so well.”

He removed the dildo out of your mouth and reached into his nightstand to pull out a bottle of lube. You stared at it like it was foreign to you and Jungkook was quick to notice.

“I don’t want to hurt you.”

“I can take it. I know it.”

He chuckled, admiring your determination. “Still, I want to take my time. Besides… it’s not every day I get to fuck someone so beautiful.”

He popped open the cap and squeezed a decent amount of lube onto the toy. Then he got back in between your legs and slowly began to insert it into you. You squirmed from the slippery, cold contact but Jungkook captured your lips into a deep kiss, igniting your body with fervor.

He thrusted the dildo as deep as he could, stopping when there was resistance from your panties. Which you were more than thankful for because you already felt full. But then he began to pump it in and out of you at a steady pace, only accelerating when your moans became more constant.

“Shit, shit,that feels so—“ Your words were swallowed by his lips and that stirred something within you, allowing Jungkook to easily glide the toy back and forth. He soon increased his speed, the obscene sounds your pussy was making the only thing that could be heard in the room.

You broke away from the kiss and began tearing up from the intensity.

“J-Jungkook, I think—“

You couldn’t, actually. Your orgasm crept up on you and made your entire body convulse. You shut your eyes to only see white, your ears were ringing, and your pussy surrendered to the pleasure.

Jungkook removed the toy out of you gently and then kissed your sweaty forehead, giving you a bunny-tooth smile as you calmed down from your high.

“Did you cum?”

You smacked his arm playfully. “Did I cum… pfft. No, actually. I’m waiting for a real man to make me cum. With a fat cock.”

“Well not to toot my own horn but…” He grinded his swollen cock against your thigh. “I think I meet the requirements.”

Now that things slowed down, this was the first time you really got to look at his cock properly. He wasn’t kidding about needing to prep you. It was as big as your dildo but much more girthier. It was a mouth-watering sight.

Flipping the switch, you got on top of Jungkook this time. His eyes widened in surprise but then eased into a smile. You leaned down and kissed him on the cheek.

“Let me take care of you now.”

“But I want to fuck you so bad.”

“You can wait, darling. My pussy is yours.”

His dick twitched at that. You giggled as you got in between his thighs, stroking his member a few times to hear those cute, breathy moans of his.

Will it fit…? God, I hope so.

“Are you afraid you can’t take it?” Jungkook asked with concern. Shit. Did you say that out loud???

“I can. I will.”

“We don’t have to if you don’t—“

“Jungkook,” you said, squeezing his dick tightly, almost like a warning. “I can take it like a good girl. And if not, I’ll tell you. Okay?”

He closed his eyes and nodded as you began to suck him off. There was no way you could take all of him in your mouth but you’d be damned if you didn’t at least try. You went as far as you could and stopped when your gag reflex kicked in. Using your hand to stroke the area you couldn’t reach, you swirled your tongue and bobbed your head up and down.

Jungkook’s abs clenched and unclenched at the action and he rested on his elbows to watch you. The way your bra cupped your breasts at this angle was enticing, your pretty lips working so hard to please him, and the view of your ass in those panties could make him cum right then and there.

“Fuck, you’re so good at this—don’t stop.”

You smiled at the praise and continued, loving how he took a sharp inhale of breath when you cupped his balls. He put his hand on your head and pushed you down gently, not wanting to overdo it with his size. You controlled the pace, but he just wanted to touch you and admire you.

“You’re too good to me…”

You released his dick with a satisfying pop sound, kissing the tip and smiling. “Teach me what you like.”

“I love everything you do,” he said, grunting when you began stroking him again from the base to the tip. “Your hands are so much softer than mine.”

You stopped momentarily to spit on your hand before resuming your lewd actions and he threw his head back.

“Fuck [Y/N]. That’s so hot.”

“Yeah? Have I been a good girl? Are you going to reward me?” He snatched your wrist, his eyes darkened and full of lust.

“Can you handle it?”

You turned around on all fours, shaking your ass side to side to tempt him. “Take me, baby. Raw.”

His OJO face returned from your bold suggestion and you flashed him a wink.

“I’m on the pill. Promise,” you informed.

A burst of energy surged within him as he grabbed the bottle of lube and hurriedly squeezed some onto his cock. You giggled when he squirted a bit too much, haphazardly trying to divide it between two hands and spreading it evenly. But things turned serious when he grabbed your hips, yanking you closer to him.

He pulled your panties to the side and ate you out from behind first, loving how delicious your backside looked with them on. You moaned in delight and he placed a hand on your upper back, forcing your face down into the mattress. His tongue dipped into your folds and he flicked it on your clit a few times, loving the whiny sounds you were making. Then he pressed his entire mouth onto your pussy and sucked hard.

You were overwhelmed with pleasure and were on the verge of cumming when he removed his mouth and replaced it with something else.

“Are you ready?” He teased his tip at your leaking entrance and you shuddered.

“Yes, please fuck me.”

“Breathe baby. Relax as much as you can.”

You obeyed, feeling him push himself into you smoothly, knowing he prepped you more than enough. At least, that’s what you thought until he got in halfway. From there on, it felt like he was invading your walls and stretching you to new limits.

There was a mild discomfort and Jungkook kissed your back lovingly to relax your tense muscles. You sighed and allowed him to bottom out, feeling the wind knock out of you when he did.

“God!” you shouted, fisting his bedsheets.

“F-Fuck… you feel amazing I—can I move? Does it hurt?”

“It doesn’t hurt… I just feel really full.”

“Okay,” he said in a restrained voice. “I’ll go slow.”

He gripped your hips tightly, like he needed something else to focus on or else he’d lose control and fuck the living daylights out of you. He eased himself out of you but only half way, wanting to savor your warmth a bit longer. Then he pushed himself back into you, making sure to go as slow as possible.

“Your ass looks amazing in these. You should wear them again.”

Your heart fluttered at the thought of doing this with him again. “Maybe if you spank me.”

He stilled his hips. “You really want me to?”

You began rocking your ass back and forth on his cock. “Yeah. I’m not that fragile… I can take it rough when I want to.” You swore you felt his cock twitch at this. “Hmm, looks like that excited you. You wanna fuck me rough, Jeon?”

He delivered a spank on your cheek, the sensation sending waves of pain and pleasure through your body. Your pussy tightened from this and it made Jungkook hiss. He spanked the other cheek and then both cheeks and you moaned, the slight pain distracting you from the girth of his big cock.

“You think you’re in a position to be a brat?” He wrapped his arm around your waist and pulled you up so you were on all fours again. Laying on top of your back, he whispered in your ear, “Do you know how badly I want to fucking ruin you?”

He bit the shell of your ear and you let out a content sigh as he slowly thrusted in and out of you.

“I don’t want to hurt you,” he reminded you. “But god, you feel so good. So tight. So slippery and wet. I just wanna have my way with you.”

You couldn’t wait anymore. “Please do. Make my pussy remember the shape of your cock. It’s yours to wreck.”

Jungkook got off your back and grabbed a nice fistful of your hair into a makeshift ponytail, forcing your head up as he thrusted into you to the hilt. That feeling of being full hit you full force and you submitted, letting him rock his hips back and forth to the pace he deemed fit. He undid your bra with his free hand, letting the undergarment fall onto the bed as he cupped one breast.

Your moans came out unashamed and full of whiny desperation. The intensity was becoming too much, but it felt too good to stop. There was no more discomfort, only lust and the desire to be fucked so hard that it had your eyes rolling. And Jungkook was more than willing to deliver.

He then grabbed a nearby pillow and placed it under your stomach, pushing your back down until you laid flat.

“I’m not sure, but I read this makes things feel better on Reddit,” he explained quickly as he helped remove your panties. “But let me know if you want me to stop.”

You’re smitten by the fact he cared this much about you but also trying hard not to laugh at how he admitted to going to Reddit for sex advice. He was too precious.

“I will.”

With your ass propped up higher thanks to the elevation of the pillow, Jungkook eased into you once more and you bit into your pillow. He started to slam his hips into you, gripping onto the headboard to steady himself.

“Fuck!” you said through gritted teeth.

“Am I going too fast?” he breathed, slowing down his thrusts.

“No, it’s okay. I want it. I want you.”

Your words unleashed his primal urges to finally give it to you. He shoved his cock deep inside you, each thrust making your ass jiggle, the sight so unbelievably sexy that he had to spank you again.

“Yes, yes, yes! Fuck me harder!” you shouted. Jungkook laid on top of you, wrapping his bicep around your neck and planted a kiss on your cheek as he fucked you harder. You begged him to choke you and he obliged, squeezing your neck just enough to make you slightly dizzy.

It was euphoric having that slight danger while being used for his pleasure. Your pussy tightened so much that Jungkook felt he was going to cum.

He slowed the roll of his hips and then pulled out, quickly flipping you onto your back. Thanks to the pillow from earlier, your hips were propped up at the perfect height.

“Spread your legs for me. Wider. Hold them open.”

You were so drunk on lust that you did everything he asked. He held onto your thighs and inserted his cock into you again, the new angle making your moans come out strangulated. He was so huge, you swore his tip was brushing against your cervix. Picking up the pace gradually, you took the abuse of his fat cock and screamed at how good it felt.

“I can’t get enough of you,” Jungkook said through pants, wrapping a hand around the column of your neck. “I’m gonna cum.”

His hips began to stutter and you felt your pussy growing sore from the stretch. Anymore and you’d be in tears. You wanted to cum too, so you snuck your hand down to your clit and rubbed in circular motions. Jungkook used the last remaining bits of strength to fuck you for a few more minutes, which was more than enough for you to reach your climax.

Cumming a second time was more painful than the first time due to the over sensitivity. But somehow it was more enjoyable because you had never felt something so intense. Jungkook kept coaxing you with sweet words, promising he was almost finished.

He rutted into you for the last few seconds, counting 3, 2, 1 before spilling his seed inside you. His body laid on top of yours, the two of you sticky and sweaty but it was comforting just being in his embrace.

“Jungkook?”

“Yeah?”

“Get off. We gotta pee.”

He laughed at your serious tone. “I think I need another shower. Care to join me?”

Your roommate literally just fucked your brains out 5 minutes ago. Why were you feeling self-conscious in the shower with him? It didn’t make sense!

With the hot water on, you took a deep breath before feeling a pair of arms wrap around you from behind.

“Questions, comments, concerns?”

Oh my god, you had to marry this man. “Um… I think I’ll be sore for the next few days.”

“I’m sorry.

“Don’t be. I enjoyed it a lot.”

He turned you around, so that you were facing him. “Enough to do it again?”

You raised an eyebrow. “Tonight?”

“W-Well… I mean—“

Look at him fumbling over his words. Adorable. “You’re such a pervert.”

“I can’t help it. You turn me on.”

You covered your chest, feeling shy. “Is that all I’m good for…?”

He immediately understood what you meant. “Of course not. Look at me,” he said while tilting your chin up. “Don’t you know how I feel about you?”

Your lips curled into a smile. “Well I learned today that you jerked off to my panties and you count down before you cum.”

You couldn’t help but explode into laughter at his OJO face when he heard you say that.

“Hey! I do it to let you know when it’s coming!”

“Yes sir,” you teased with a salute. “I appreciate your punctuality, sir!”

“Oh my god, you’re so cheeky.” He hugged you again and booped his nose into yours. “I like you. You know, when a boy likes a girl and they go out on a date and then—oh shit, I did things backwards.”

You giggled. “I think I prefer it this way. I like you too. I’ve… liked you for a long time.”

“Why didn’t you say anything?”

“Because! I didn’t want to make things awkward. But I guess things ended up being awkward anyway…”

“Because you were masturbating to me?”

He had such a proud smile on his face.

“Whatever! Panty thief!”

“You left them there.”

“You should’ve told me!”

“I did!”

“After you had your fun! You are so—”

He gave you a surprise peck on the cheek to distract you.

“Awesome?” He smooched you again. And again. You couldn’t help but giggle.

“You’re lucky you’re cute.”

“Mmhmm. So… do you want to stay in my room tonight?”

“As long as you warm me up.”

“Oh, for sure. I’m great at that.”

“Because of experience or Reddit?”

There was his OJO face again. “Hey~!”

I truly hope you enjoyed the fic! Thank you for giving my writing a chance. :) Also I have an AO3 if you're more comfortable commenting there. Thanks!

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