#the concept of it perplexes you
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All of the really goofy alt costume fnaf toys are actually from an AR app game that I can't imagine that many people really played and was quietly dropped by the developers
I think a good chunk of them are from that though there did seem to be some that only exist in unprompted merchandise. admittedly most of these ones that arent from the phone game or something are kind of just boring recolors but there are at least some mildly funny strings of words in there, like "Walmart Exclusive Tie-Dye Springtrap"
#ask#Admittedly any merchandise of springtrap whatsoever is inherently funny to me regardless of concept.#Because there is a dead body in him. And he killed like a million children or whatever. And he is a corpse#And you can buy the tie-dye version of him only at walmart. Exclusively at walmart.#And its kind of lame because its still just green. He's already green normally.#Actually my dark secret is that i did play the fnaf ar game for like 2 days. It was the only fnaf game i ever played. I dont know why.#I remember being perplexed by how it had the pokemon go map setup but it was irrelevant to any mechanic.#You didn't have to go anywhere they approached you.
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The constant rolling disaster that is Overwatch's game development aside, what really perplexes me about how Blizzard is handling the broader franchise is their continual insistence that a canon narrative exists in spite of their equally continual refusal to tell anyone what it is.
Like, okay, the events of the games aren't canon. Fair enough: the games are multiplayer-only, and you can't account for player actions.
Oh, and the animated short films aren't canon either – they're properly understood as in-universe propaganda, not depictions of actual events. That's a little high concept for you guys, but fine.
But surely the comics are canon, right? Well, no; some of the comics (we're not telling you which ones) were canon at one point, but the writing team has decided to go in a different direction.
My dudes, what is left? The weird Source Filmmaker porn? Is that canon? Well, apparently it's at least as canon as anything else!
#gaming#video games#overwatch#blizzard#game development#writing#canon#metatextual wankery#pornography mention#swearing#recording a four-hour video essay interrogating the canonicity of widowmaker's massive hog
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Just saw the most majestic kaveh cosplay and I looked into the comments and saw the foulest comment I’ve ever seen and it barely made sense cause of typos I click the ops profile AND OP IS SIXTEEN 😧
#THE COMMENTER SAID THAT ABOUT A SIXTEEN YR OKD WAT THE HECK#dora daily#but genuinely tho that kaveh looked like he came from the heavens#like Allah blessed him like he blessed prophet Youssef#I kid you not like guys listen#that kaveh was the prettiest human being I’ve had the liberty of witnessing 😔#actually backtracking onto prophet Youssef I often was intrigued by him cause how did those ladies get so distracted by a man they cut#their hands accidentally cause they were so distracted#because I can’t really tell physical attractiveness so I’m often very perplexed by this concept of someone being so attractive they’re like#causing you to start tweaking#I only know the standards of conventional attractiveness in a very cohesive logical analysing manner 😭#and therefore I get nervous when I’m next to conventionally attractive people cause it feels like they have status ?? IDK LOL#but the only time I’d really say someone is beautiful is if I also know their personality too like oh you’re “aesthetically pleasing” kinda#but look at that your personality is gorgeous that makes you so handsome / pretty#it makes me confused why so many men pick women they can’t stand just cause they’re pretty cause#like#wdym you picked he cause she’s pretty what else is her prettiness gonna really make you happy for life what if she’s annoying what if your#personalities don’t vibe what is her prettiness gonna do for you then#personally if there was a pretty guy but his personality is ugly I would literally see him as an ugly person#it’s just interesting seeing how others perceive things truthfully#ANYWAYS#I got distracted hi again back on topic#I wish I can look as majestic as that cosplayer cosplaying kaveh#and I rlly wanna see what prophet Youssef looks like just for experimental purposes like#what does society deem attractive that sort of thing
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Seemed interesting and I was curious to know how much I'd picked up about it secondhand over the years, so gave it a shot. Not Jewish (but some of my family is), got 27/32.
(I went over the ones I got wrong down in the tags to avoid accidentally giving the answers to people who might want to take the quiz for themselves.)
jumblr folks should collectively make a basic jewish theology quiz that ppl outside the jewish community should have to pass before arguing with us about jewish theology. like what the fuck are these ppl doing arguing with me about the torah when they don't know about the existence of the oral torah.
#the wrong ones were:#8. I knew the answer was 'much lower than I'd like' but wasn't sure of the exact number#so I tried to be optimistic and guessed the second-lowest answer#sadly no#15. I'd heard of the three sections before but only in Hebrew and had no idea what their English names were#so my mind went blank and settled on 'uhhh fuck it pick the only option where all three words aren't English'#even though I knew it was probably wrong#22. I was familiar with the general concept of 'someone who is going to do something very important I don't recall the details of'#and 'arrival predicted but has not yet occurred'#and went with the option using the phrase 'a servant of God'#because I vaguely remembered hearing about a rabbi referring to the Jewish people as bondsmen in God's service#30. I freely admit I had absolutely NO idea here and just picked Guide for the Perplexed because it was funny#31. Knew it wasn't lost or a secret but the idea that it's too dense to read at ALL didn't track for me#because surely no matter HOW dense a text is there must be SOMEONE scholarly and devoted enough to read it eventually?#like I could understand it taking years of study and effort to finish but surely you Would Have Read It eventually if you kept going??#so I figured it must be the 'translation issues' option#chalking this one up to my not understanding what the quiz writer meant here by 'reading'
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anyways does anyone ever think about rin welcoming obito to the afterlife. ugh.
#ninja-land's cultural... not that bothered by death thing#is heavily influenced by beliefs that death isnt the end. KNOWLEDGE that death isnt the end.#moments that make me see red ^_^#anyways everyone knows naruto's ending might as well be non-canon. lmao.#but if we take it at face value. it just means that rin is falling back on old habits.#sad! i wonder why she decided to keep up the preformance for obito. or perhaps that wasn't even rin#actually the existence of an afterlife in naruto perplexes and annoys me.#especially because so many people poke at the barrier between the living and the dead so many times that like.#why. why are you guys sad that people die. if you know that they're basically still alive why are you sad#they're just in a new place??? and you all know this because you interact with them like????? LIKE????#sorry. nohara rin thing to say. i do like to play around with#because like. if you knew that shanking someone in the stomach just meant that they'd wake up in a new place#wouldn't you be all that more willing to kill millions and millions of people?? wouldn't it all lose its flavor? its not that bad#if its not the end.#and then rin took those watery feelings towards death and dumped them in the ocean.#oops! girl you diluted the concept of dying so bad it no longer holds any weight. i think she would hold dying and moving to france as#equally bad things. no one's doing it like her
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Yandere Fae - Temptation
he just wants to know your name, that’s all. he promises.
tw: yandere themes, possessive behaviour, reader is lowkey okay with it, implied murder, unhealthy relationships, stockholm syndrome (?)
“Come now, darling,” he croons, so very sweetly, “it’s just a name. I promise I won’t tell.”
He leans his cheek against your arm, gazing up pleadingly. You sigh as you feel your resolve waver. He— the fae— Lucian, he says his name is but you don’t know if he’s telling the truth.
Fae can’t lie, you’d been told as a child. The people of your town nary spoke of the faekind, save in warning tales. They’d told of weaknesses, of iron and salt. Lies. Falsehoods born from ignorance. Fae could lie, could weave truths of honeyed poison sweeter than any ambrosia. One thing you did know was not to tell one your name. Your grandmother had told you. She was the same woman who warned you of the dangers, who thwarted the ignorant claims of the fellow villagers
“Please.” Lucian all but whines. You can’t help but giggle in amusement. For such a powerful creature, he’s acting as though he were a puppy. “It’s just a name.”
But it’s not just a name. Name’s are powerful. They hold history, stories, one’s very being. So, you’ll refuse him once more. “I can’t.”
“Can’t or won’t?” Lucian tilts his head. The slightest hint of venom tinges his tone. His slit pupils are dilated double their size, like a predator catching sight of its prey. “Tell me your name.”
Lucian’s been persistent in his efforts. Ever since you moved into a cottage deep within the forest. Unable to bear the repetitive, noisy life of your village, you left. He’s been following you ever since you moved in. He’s bound, tethered to the place. To the land. Through magical means you don’t understand. Lucian adores pestering you with questions, and inane conversation, that you’ve grown to enjoy. But above all else, he seems determined to get your name. Not that you plan to give it to him.
He makes a frustrated noise, a pout forming on his lips. “You’re so stubborn.” Lucian complains. “Just tell me. I won’t tell anyone else, I swear.”
Liar, you think fondly, It’s cute, really, the effort he puts in.
Biting your lip, you briefly contemplate your sanity. Should others find themselves in this situation they wouldn’t be as calm. They’d panic. You should panic. You should probably run for the hills. For it’s not his status as a fae that forebodes danger. He’s— Lucian is complex.
The good-natured mask he wears is just that. A mask. One he wears for you. Your relationship with Lucian is multilayered. Surface level, it is a give and take. What he gives and what you take remains unclear. Surface level, you’re companions. But that implies trust. You don’t trust him. You’re smart enough not too.
“I’m heading out to town.” You tell him. “To the market.”
Lucian huffs. He storms off like a petulant child, intelligibly whining and a pout on his face. You roll your eyes. Gathering a basket and pulling on a cloak, you step out of the cottage. The way to town isn’t marked by a path. You memorize trees and large stones. Landmarks. You trek through the woodlands, thoughts of Lucian occupying your mind.
You hold a certain fondness for him. For the little game you two indulge in. It’s an odd affection, a tired, old one. He makes you cook for him, bemoaning your atrocious mortal cuisine as he eats all of it. He follows you around the cottage with seemingly no concept of personal space. He lingers around you, as if he were a ghost and you his haunt. He entertains you. With tall-tales spun from silk. He offers you gifts in the form of odd trinkets, flowers, nuts, sometimes gems.
Lucian perplexes you. Because despite the casualness of your relationship, you’d be a fool to not be aware of the power imbalance in between the two of you. There’s something dark, dangerous. An ancient, primal magic tethering him to the cottage. To you.
You shake off your wonderings as you reach a clearing. Down, to the left is a quaint little town. It’s sparsely populated, everyone knows everyone, at least everyone who inhabits the area. Locals are wary of travellers, yet they are not so foolish to deny potential patrons business. Their market, tavern, and inn are what’s to be expected of a place such as this. It’s sufficient for your needs, though. Far be it for you to complain.
You stop by the market, examining items being sold by the vendors. As you take an apple in hand, trying to determine whether the produce is worth it’s price, a hand reaches by you. Curiously, you sneak a glance to the person it belongs to.
You’re met with the appearance of a rugged, rogue. Weary from his travels, if you’d have to guess. He gives you half-grin half-smirk that makes your insides flutter. Normally, you’d offer him a flirtatious smile. Perhaps he’d ask to take you out for the night, to the tavern. You’d drink sweet mead and suggest stopping at an inn for the night. Spend it together. Alas, the sanctity of your normal ended upon your meeting with Lucian.
“‘Scuse me, love,” he says, voice a rough timbre. It’s so different than Lucian’s smooth, honeyed lilt. You like it. “You ain’t from ‘round here, eh?”
You nimbly step aside, appreciating the view. You should leave, you know the consequences if you stay. “No.” You tell him. “I live a little ways away.”
He smiles at that. A small little grin that’s almost a smirk. What a dangerous thing, he is. He starts chatting you up. You know what he wants from you and you’re quite certain he knows what he wants from you. You should be beyond such inhibitions— but it’s been so very long since you’d indulged in a bit of fun. So you let him take you back to his inn, slip something in his beer so when he’s done and your sated, he’ll slip right off. The moment he does, you slink away, trekking through the woods back home. Most people wouldn’t, scared of the dangers lurking. But the forest knows that the true danger resides within your home, guaranteeing your safety.
The moment you make it back, Lucian appears, leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed. “Entertaining night?”
His tone is frigid and cold, almost the same as his usual indifference. But you know him better than that. “Very.” You hum. “And yet, I’m here with you.”
“Yet you’re here with me.” He parrots. The shift in his demeanour is almost imperceptible, a change so subtle it appears meaningless. You watch as he slinks away, the satisfaction of his tone lingering throughout your mind. The affirmation, to both him and you, that you were here. That you came crawling back to him. That the pull, the tether he held on your being remained tight as ever.
That you were—
Not his. You were still your own being. You let out a shaky sigh and head up to bed. You’ve had too much to drink, you tell yourself. The next morn, when you awaken, groggily blinking, something immediately feels off. After living like this— after living with him— for so long, you’ve come to understand to trust your intuition while ignoring the warning bells ringing in your head.
You head down the stairs. Your body is heavy from your hang over. It dulls your senses. You know you need to be on guard, lest Lucian have his way. Speak of the devil, you muse, as he leans on the kitchen island smugly. “Rough night?”
“Don’t.” You warn, grabbing a pot and filling it with water to boil. Lician laughs. His laughter sharp and smooth. “Forgive me, lovely.” He croons. “I do not intend to rouse that temper of yours.”
You eye him suspiciously. Of course, you’re always suspicious in regards to him, but this behaviour is odd. Odder than usual. He usually demands you cook for him, asks for your name, then huffs when you rebuff him. It’s routine and Lucian isn’t one for breaking routine. You rake over his handsome, pointed features. He sports an usual grin. Self-satisfied and almost victorious. Then, you spot a crimson splatter along the underside of his throat.
“Is there something wrong, lovely?” He inquires, tilting his head almost as if to show you the blood stained on his neck.
Don’t give in. Don’t pay attention to it. You learned early on giving in only worsens his behaviour. “No.” You answer firmly. You avoid his question, evasive and ignorant. Your ignorance serves as a shield. “I ought to make something, barely ate yesterday.”
Lucian’s eyes flicker with both annoyance and pleasure. “Make me some too.” He orders, before sauntering off.
It sends a shiver down your spine, your compliance. Barely able to deny him, yet unable to give into him. It irks him. It also pleases him. It’s a game between the two of you. One neither of you can quit. You tow the line each time, out of selfishness. The desire to be free. To be as it was. It ends in his possessive fits, with blood shed, staining your hands crimson. Yet you continue. His attention is intoxicating. As addicting as mead. It drives you mad, tantalizes you, taunts you. But you don’t give in fully. Can’t. At least, not yet.
“Come now, lovely. I know you wish to fall into temptation with me.”
#yandere romance#yandere x reader#yandere headcanons#yandere#yandere oneshots#yandere drabble#yandere oneshot#yandere fae#yandere scenarios#yandere imagines#yandere imagine
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angel.
✧.* toji fushiguro x reader
summary:
toji who never cared where he put it before. Ass, tits, hand, mouth, pussy. It was all the same to him. Until, that is, he met you.
cw: smut, oral, blowjobs, creampie, rough, sucker for simp toji tbh, orgasm denial ish
word count: 1.7k
likes, comments & reposts are deeply appreciated! <3 enjoy.
-`♡´-
Toji who never cared where he put it before. Ass, tits, hand, mouth, pussy. It was all the same to him because the outcome was all the same. He’d come, and if she did too then that was that - he’d still get his shit together and leave before the glimmering beams of light began to intrude through the curtains and illuminate her face for just long enough for him to remember it.
To him, sex was never a romantic thing. It was simply a relief. A few brief moments of bliss before the almost immediate realisation of life dawned on him and he’d go back to his typical Monday stresses - his kid, the bills, what he was going to eat tonight, who he was going to kill.
But then, you came into his life. Oh, sweet, bewitching, perfect you. Now, his life had a purpose once more. Now, he woke up with something other than death in his bloodied, war-zone mind. He almost felt unworthy that a real-life angel had been sent to him from above - what had he done to deserve it? You were an animated depiction of the dictionary definition of beauty.
Not only had you invaded his life and imposed all of your perfect elements onto him, such as the way you cared, the way you spoke, and the way you behaved, but you had also completely disfigured the way he fucked.
He couldn’t bear the idea at first. The concept of defiling someone so utterly perfect with all of his corruption and sin was unfathomable. He was a vile guy, yeah, but not even he could tarnish such purity as yourself. However, when the two of you got back to your place after a long date, and he walked you up to your apartment for your own safety (he tells a lie - there was a very slim chance of any danger proposing itself to you in the short walk to your apartment. He simply just couldn't part your side just yet), how was he supposed to ever resist you when you turned around to face him before slowly undoing the top buttons of your blouse as you took his hand and led him straight to your room?
That night, he fucked you in every imaginable way possible - yet the idea of finishing anywhere but inside of your cunt made him feel ill, and has done ever since.
Why would he come anywhere but deep inside of your pussy? Why wouldn’t he want to fill you up to the very brim, stuffed full of his come until it was spilling out uncontrollably? The mere thought of it left him perplexed.
In moments like this, where you’re on your knees with your delicate hands gripping onto his thighs and your soft tongue gliding over the veins of his cock - he found it gruelling to refrain from spilling himself into the back of your throat.
His hand rested on your head, not applying any force to allow you to set your own pace. His head was thrown back and his eyes scrunched in a murderous delight. Every second he spent keeping himself from finishing was a second he struggled to pull you off his dick and throw you onto his sheets.
There was nothing wrong with your mouth - fuck, was there nothing wrong with your mouth - it felt like he was finally experiencing the heaven he’d never truly seen. But when he said that the thought of coming anywhere but your pussy made him ill, he meant it.
You’d asked him so nicely to suck him off, as well. Gotten on your knees the second he got home from his mission as your hands hesitantly danced around his belt, awaiting his approval. He could see the disappointment in your eyes flash for a scarce moment when he asked you to get up - yet the squeal of delight that escaped your parted lips when he scooped you up into his arms and threw you over his shoulder as he began to head for your bedroom made up for every fraction of disappointment he caused you. So how was he supposed to
“Does it not feel good, Toji?” You asked, coaxing him out of his stupor. His head snapped down to look at you with puzzlement in his eyes, asking you all the questions floating about on the tip of his tongue with just one single glance, yet you heard him all the same. “Just, you haven’t came yet and you’ve hardly made any noise.”
Guilt washed over him in waves as he stared at your saddened eyes pouting up at him in confusion. That guilt began to dim when standing next to the conflicting lust he felt at the way his cock throbbed threateningly from the way you were looking up at him with that captivating pout as your hand lazily continued to stroke his cock.
“I.. Fuck, angel. I just can’t do it.”
“What do you me-“ Before you could finish your reply, Toji had you raised in his arms once again as he tossed you onto your bed.
“I gotta cum in this pretty cunt, angel. I can’t explain it, I just have to. Please let me come in your pussy.” He pleaded with you, eyes wide and swimming in oceans of desire. When you slowly nodded up at him, still feeling the lingering surprise from the sudden switch of positions, he wasted no more time talking.
There was no room for questions, not when his tongue was being shoved down your throat and his tip was prodding your hole. How had you gotten so wet just from sucking on his dick? He almost resented himself for not tending to your own needs earlier, but if anyone else had such a filthy mouth wrapped so delightfully around their cock - they wouldn’t be able to think straight either.
A string of curses fell from his lips as he pushed himself inside of you, his forehead resting against your own as your lips parted in pleasure from the way he poked that perfect spot inside of you almost immediately.
He couldn’t ever help himself. You were so magnetic. The way you were sprawled on the mattress as he lifted himself up and threw your leg over his shoulder as he began to pound his cock deep inside of you - it was like streaks of heaven beamed down on you, worshipping you as they should.
The feeling of your pussy helplessly stretching around him, combined with his previous denial of his own orgasm was sending him into an unavoidable spiral - one he was sure he’d feel the effects of for the rest of his days. If he could spend the rest of his life with you looking so angelic underneath him as he thrusted his hardened cock in and out of your wet pussy, he would take that offer in a heartbeat - no matter the cost.
You felt so good around him, sucking him in as if it was the last thing you’d ever do. Toji was no better, his relentless pace and screwed-shut eyes demonstrated that he was losing himself in his pleasure. His hand that wasn’t wrapped securely around your leg reached down to begin stimulating your clit, toying with it so teasingly.
If Toji couldn’t handle it, then you sure as hell couldn’t. Your hands were scrambling for some sort of stability - needing something that could keep you securely in the grasp of sanity’s hands before you succumbed.
Your moans merged with Toji’s, a mixture of broken whines and disgruntled groans echoed throughout the room as you borderline began to scream around his cock - your hands quickly moving to cover your face and muffle your sounds as a sense of rationality clicked in your brain when you realised that your neighbours were most likely either having one hell of a laugh or phoning the police due to a suspected murder scene occurring in your apartment.
Toji wasn’t satisfied though. He couldn’t come outside of your pussy, and he couldn’t come without the sight of your face and the reverberating noises that left your swollen lips. When had he become so picky? He grumbled words of disapproval as his hand left your pulsating clit in order to force your hands above you - the room immediately flooding with the sound of your moans once more - much to Toji’s delight.
He could feel his impending orgasm begin to creep up on him once more, and so he wasted no time as he lifted your other leg over his shoulder and put all of his force into his harsh thrusts. His hand went back to your clit - desperate for you to finish at the same time as him. One after the other, he kept pounding and pounding your poor, abused cunt until there was nothing but a puddle of wetness and a hole practically moulded into his cock.
It was always the familiar feeling of your pussy tightening around him, signalling to him your own orgasm, that sent him those shockwaves of pleasure as he braced himself for the heavy ropes of cum that he was about to fill you up with at any given moment - his pleasure building up at an unstoppable pace as he began to pant out a warning to you.
“Fuck, angel. Gonna come in this slutty little cunt of yours, yeah? Better keep that shit in this time.” He demanded, his voice carrying an authoritative tone that left no space for discussion - not that you could when your entire body had ceased to function at the intensity of your orgasm.
Truly, there was no feeling quite like the one where he was stuffing you full of his cum. He was certain that he’d never get enough of it. Not when it had him throwing his head back with a rough groan and one of his hands gripping the sheets in a deathly hold.
He was so overtaken by his orgasm that he hadn’t processed the feeling of falling onto his back - a gentle hand pushing his chest and silk sheets embracing his back. Nothing could ever change the fact that your lips pressed against his own, could pull him out of a lifelong coma - so when he recognised the press of your soft lips against his own, his eyes sprung to life and his hands flew to your hips - which had somehow found themselves mounted over his torso.
“You wanna fill me up again, handsome?” You laughed, like a goddess above him. He doesn’t think his dick has ever gotten that hard so fast before.
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
a/n: came out of hiding for this one
☾ ⋆*・゚:⋆*・゚sgojoenthusiast
#fanfic#smut#jjk x reader#jjk smut#jjk fanfic#toji fushiguro smut#toji x you#toji fushiguro x reader#toji smut#fushiguro toji x reader#toji x reader#toji fushigro x reader#toji fushiguro x you#toji x reader smut#toji x you smut#🌙 jujutsu kaisen
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The breaking point
Part 2 of Beyond the Limit (can also be read as a standalone)
Spencer realizes that being dominant doesn’t always require him to be rough, especially when he has complete control over your body.
warnings: (18+, MDNI) soft dom spence because there’s a lot of praising in this one, reader in lingerie, orgasm control or edging, overstimulation, reader gets cockdrunk (idk how to explain it better), a little cockwarming at the end
Words: 4,3k
a/n: this has been in my drafts for a while and i finally finished it, i don’t usually do a part two for my oneshots but…i’m actually tempted to do more
You were a tease—a goddamn tease. Spencer knew he needed to work on his self-control, but it was hard to keep his composure when you had the ability to stir desire within him. It was perplexing, given that there was a time when thoughts of anything remotely sexual never even crossed his mind.
For the majority of his life, intimacy had been a foreign concept. While he occasionally felt a pang of jealousy witnessing everyone around him find love, he managed just fine without it. He suspected it was partly a defense mechanism, channeling his focus toward other aspects of his life—such as his mother's health, for example—to avoid dwelling on what he lacked.
But then all his beliefs shattered when you came crashing into his life. Suddenly, everything he thought he knew about himself was thrown away. Your presence sparked a fire within him that he never knew existed and he found himself craving the intimacy he had once dismissed as unnecessary.
He wasn't even aware of how touch-starved he was until he met you, and now it was hard to maintain that last thread of self-control he possessed. It wasn't that he didn't want to give in, but rather, he feared the intensity of his own desires, afraid that he might enjoy it more than he anticipated.
Because did he have to be rough with you for him to be satisfied, now that he had once known how it felt like? But how could he indulge in such temptation when you looked so utterly beautiful right now, so delicate, so precious in his eyes?
How could he even fathom ruining your perfection with roughness?
"Spence?" You nervously asked, suddenly feeling self-conscious. Your confidence was starting to dissipate as his eyes slowly traveled down your body, taking in the lingerie you chose to surprise him. Although this was not the reaction you were hoping for. "Do you not... like it?"
Spencer's gaze lingered on you, his expression was unreadable for a moment before a warm smile tugged at the corners of his lips.
"No, no, it's not that," he reassured you, putting down the book he had been reading on the bedside table before you walked into your shared bedroom. He reached his hand out, motioning you to come closer. "It's just... you caught me off guard, that's all."
You approached him cautiously and as you stepped closer, you noticed the tension in his shoulders easing, replaced by a soft warmth in his eyes. His hand found its place on your waist, drawing you closer and you instinctively fell on his lap, your knees dipping onto the bed on each side of his thighs.
Feeling his arousal right between your legs, you couldn't suppress the soft gasp that escaped your lips. "So you do like it," you murmured, a hint of satisfaction lacing your words.
"Like it? Sweetheart, that's an understatement," he replied. His calloused palms traveled along your sides as he took in the way the lace material hugged your curves.
The lilac-colored lingerie set on your body accentuated your figure perfectly. Both pieces were see-through, granting him a glimpse of your chest and lower region. The delicate edges of the top were adorned with more of the soft fabric, cascading over your stomach and back in a gentle, stunningly pretty way.
"You're so beautiful," Spencer whispered as he traced the intricate patterns of the fabric with his fingertips. "Absolutely breathtaking."
His touch sent shivers down your spine. You leaned into him, relishing the warmth and tenderness of his touch as one of his hands moved up your arm before resting behind your neck, pulling you closer to him.
His lips touched yours gently, sending a thrill coursing through your body. He nipped at your bottom lip, his touch both teasing and tender and as he sucked on it softly, a low moan escaped you. He then deepened the kiss, his tongue gently pushing into your mouth, and you kissed him back eagerly, your lips moving in perfect sync with his.
When he finally pulled away, you were left breathless, but he didn't stop giving you attention. His mouth made its way down to your neck, his lips trailing soft kisses along your skin and you couldn't help but arch your back, offering yourself to him completely. He then sucked on the spot below your ear, his lips creating a deliciously pleasurable sensation that made you moan softly in response.
You could feel his smile against your skin as he continued to travel further down, his lips leaving a trail of heat along your neck and collarbone. At the same time, his fingers pulled down the strap of your lingerie top, the material gracefully falling down your body, revealing more of your skin.
"Beautiful," he whispered as if it was the first time he laid his eyes on you, even if the two of you lost count long ago. His name slipped from your lips the moment his wide palms were pressed to your breasts, kneading the soft flesh and your nipples hardened beneath his touch.
Your mouth hung open in a silent gasp, and your breathing quickened in response when his thumb traced over your sensitive peak, sending electric sparks of pleasure coursing through your body. Spencer watched the way your eyes widened with desire, his own filled with a hunger that mirrored yours. And when he leaned closer, wrapping his soft lips around it, you were instantly gone.
The sensation sent waves of pleasure coursing through you, eliciting the most sinful sound you weren't even aware of making. It was like music to his ears, fueling his desire to please you even more. He continued to suck on your skin, giving the same attention to each breasts, his movements growing more fervent with each passing moment.
When he felt your hips bucking against his, he let out a low, guttural groan of pleasure. He softly drew back your nipple, your supple skin following his pull before he released it with a soft pop. Your skin glistened from his saliva, and honestly, Spencer had never seen such a splendid sight before.
The way you were grinding against him over his cotton pants frantically sent a surge of desire coursing through his veins. He could feel the thin fabric of your sheer panties pressing between your cunt, and with each movement, he could see glimpses of soft, bare skin glistening under the light, driving him wild with longing.
A primal need surged within him, a need to devour you, to lose control and indulge in the raw intensity. He craved to run his rough hands along your body, to explore every inch of your skin and claim you as his own. But he couldn't—not when you were the one in control as you sought pleasure in the way your hips moved against his.
So instead, his hands found purchase on your hips, guiding you to move faster. "That's it, sweetheart," he encouraged, his voice thick with desire. "Keep going."
You obeyed, pressing your aching heat against his cock, rolling your hips rapidly as a whimper of his name escaped you. You felt yourself growing hot and needy, your arousal dripping through your panties to coat his flesh beneath you, soaking through fabrics.
"Look at how wet you are," he mused, his voice laced with desire as he observed your flushed state and the evidence of your arousal staining the fabric between you. "Does this feel good?"
Your only response was another desperate moan, your body consumed by the overwhelming pleasure of being with him. What started lazy and slow soon turned into sporadic thrusts as you tried to cling to any friction. Your breath came in short, shallow gasps, and your body quivered with a delicious ache. It was too much, but at the same time, it wasn't enough.
"I need to feel you," you breathed out quickly, and before he could register what was happening, your fingers were pulling down his pants frantically. Sensing your desperation, he was quick to push the fabric down as his cock sprung free.
You bit down on your bottom lip as you lift your hips above him, taking him by the base with one of your hands while the other pushed the material of your panties to the side. He groaned when you pressed the tip of his cock to your dripping entrance.
"Are you sure?" he asked, his concern evident in his voice. Spencer always made sure you were fully ready, either with his fingers or mouth—or even with your own fingers. But you were already wet enough, and you couldn't wait any longer to feel him inside you.
You nodded eagerly, the need for him overpowering any hesitation. "Please," you begged, your voice pleading and desperate. "I need you now."
Both of you watched in awe as his girth stretched your clenched walls, the sensation of being filled to the brim overwhelming your senses. It wasn't the first time this happened, but it felt like a new sensation each time, and you found yourself instinctively clenching around him, eager to feel him even deeper inside you.
"Fuck," you whimpered, allowing yourself a moment to adjust to his size. His grip on your hips tightened, his fingers digging into your flesh as you squeezed yourself around him. With a slow, deliberate motion, you lifted your hips, feeling him ease out of you, only to lower yourself onto him again.
The sensation of him sliding back inside you made you gasp, a rush of pleasure washing over you as you took him deeper. His groan reverberated through your body, sending waves of ecstasy coursing through you. As his head fell back against the headboard, you couldn't help but whimper, the words tumbling from your lips without much thought.
"You fill me up so good," you confessed, your voice laced with desire as you rolled your hips against him. Your hands slipped under his shirt, feeling his soft stomach clench underneath your fingertips with every upstroke of your hips. "Take this off, baby."
With a low growl of approval, Spencer complied, swiftly removing his shirt and tossing it aside. Without hesitation, your hands trailed over his chest, reveling in the sensation of his smooth skin beneath your fingertips, feeling the steady rhythm of his heartbeat beneath your touch.
He watched you intently, captivated by the raw display of pleasure that painted your features. The way your face twisted in ecstasy, the way your mouth hung open in silent gasps, the way your breasts bounced with every movement—all of it drove him to the edge of his self-control.
As you quickened your pace, he felt his restraint slipping away, the urge to claim you completely becoming increasingly difficult to resist. Each time you clenched around him, it became harder for him to hold back. And as always, you could tell. You could feel the tension in his grip on your hips, the way his fingers dug into your flesh with a possessive urgency.
You slowed your hips, bringing your hand to his cheek, forcing him to look at you. "You're doing it again."
His gaze met yours, filled with a mixture of desire and frustration. He knew exactly what you were referring to. "I... I can't help it. You drive me crazy."
"I know that," you responded, stilling for a moment as you kept him buried deep inside you. "I just need you to do something about it."
He slowly shook his head. "I don't want to hurt you."
"You won't," you assured him, your voice filled with confidence as you leaned closer, bumping your nose against him seductively. "Come on, I know how much you want to be in control."
When he didn't respond, you pushed him even further, your lips tantalizingly close to his as you whispered your seductive taunt.
"I know you want more," you teased. "Don't you want to take control? Lie me on my back and fuck me until I can't think anymore? Until I beg you to stop while you use my body over and over again?"
"Don't tempt me," he choked out, his voice thick with longing and restraint.
But you weren't finished yet. "Yeah?" you challenged, your tone daring as you buried your hand in his disheveled, sweaty hair. "Then I dare you to."
You tugged on his roots.
"Fuck me, Spencer." You nipped on his bottom lip. "Fuck me real good."
His breath caught in his throat at your bold words, his heart pounding rapidly. With a shaky exhale, he met your gaze, the intensity in his eyes burning brighter than ever before.
And then, in a sudden surge of boldness, he surprised you, flipping you onto your back as you let out an amused squeal. But your laughter was quickly drowned out by the heat of his lips crashing down on yours.
He kissed you feverishly, with a messy and desperate hunger that left you breathless. He clung onto you as if you were the very air he needed to survive. He was devouring you as if you were the most delicious meal he had ever encountered, and he savored every moment, every sensation, swallowing your desperate moans.
And then he pulled out and you whimpered at the loss but any hint of disappointment vanished as you watched him shed his last piece of clothing. Then with deliberate slowness, he reached for your panties, his eyes locked on yours as he dragged them up your leg, savoring the sight of the damp fabric clinging to your skin.
When he finally discarded it on the floor, he wasted no time in grabbing one of your legs. With deliberate tenderness, he began trailing soft kisses along the inner part of your thigh, each gentle press of his lips sending waves of pleasure radiating through your body. Your breath quickened as you watched him, your heart pounding in your chest.
"I'm not going to be rough," he whispered, his voice low and husky, his eyes never leaving yours as he planted soft kisses right at the edge of your drenching heat, teasingly close to where you craved him most. He then crawled over your body, settling himself between your legs, his gaze locked on yours.
"But I am going to use you," he murmured, his words sending a thrill of excitement coursing through you. "You'll let me do that, won't you?"
As he hovered above you, his weight supported by his arms, you watched a strand of his outgrown hair fall over his eyes. With a gentle touch, you reached out and tucked it behind his ear, a soft smile playing on your lips as you nodded in response.
"Say it," he urged. "Tell me you're mine to use."
You met his gaze, your own eyes dark with longing and anticipation. "I'm yours," you whispered, and when you felt his tip pressing into your entrance once again, you gasped. "I-I’m yours to use."
In one swift motion, he filled you again with a hard thrust that had you arching your back, a strangled moan escaping your lips as pleasure surged through you. "S-Spence..."
"Good girl," he praised, his words sending shivers down your spine as he kissed your cheek. His hips began to roll into you, setting a rhythm that drove you wild. "My good, pretty girl."
You whined in response, the sound music to his ears as he continued to thrust into you at a steady rhythm. He relished the way you responded to him, the way you surrendered to the pleasure he was giving you. He wanted to use the way you were satisfied, to use the way you wanted him, to take you to the brink of ecstasy.
He wanted to use you in every way possible, to make you his in every sense of the word.
Spencer never considered himself a possessive person, but when it came to you, he wanted to be the one you surrendered to completely. And in this moment, he had never felt more in control. It was intoxicating, the power he held over you, the way you willingly gave yourself to him.
That was why when he felt you clenching around him, knowing you were so close to your peak, he stopped. He wanted to draw out this moment, to savor every sensation, every sound you made, every breath that escaped your lips. He wanted to draw out your pleasure until you were begging for release, until you were completely and utterly his.
"Why—" you gasped. "Why did you stop?"
He smiled down at you. "Because I want to make you feel good, Angel," he whispered, brushing a strand of hair away from your face. "And I want to take my time doing it."
Your head fell back, and you couldn't help but bite your lip to suppress a moan. His use of the term Angel always had a way of melting your resolve, and you knew he was fully aware of the effect it had on you.
"Be patient," he chided before burying his head in the crook of your neck, nipping at your skin gently. Then, he resumed moving his hips, each thrust sending waves of pleasure coursing through you. It felt incredible, but you couldn't shake the desire for him to fuck you harder.
"More," you cried out, feeling as if you were in a deep haze.
"Yeah? Spread your legs wider then."
You whimpered at his simple command, your shuddering legs gradually spreading a few inches wider. It was becoming harder to breathe from the way he was pushing you into the mattress, but you welcomed the pleasure, craving more of him.
Your hands clawed at his back, leaving crescent-shaped marks from your nails as you desperately sought something to hold onto. The intense pleasure coiled tightly in your gut, making you feel as if you were gasping for air while your head swam with overwhelming sensations.
Your moans became more fragmented with every stroke of his hips, your thoughts clouded by the pulsating ache between your legs. All you could focus on was the overwhelming sensation building within you, traveling along your body. You were so close—and then it stopped.
It simply stopped right at the edge, and you couldn't feel anything but a raw need. It was incredibly frustrating as you caught him smiling down at you. You whined and bucked your hips, chasing the tight warmth you had so suddenly been denied.
Your breath came out in short, ragged gasps. "You're evil," you managed to say, your voice trembling with need. "I-I was so close..."
"Too soon," he murmured against your lips, his breath hot against your skin as he pressed his lips to yours. "Just imagine how good it'll be once I finally let you come."
Spencer then slowly pulled away, his eyes tracing every detail of your trembling form—the way your mouth was slackened open, the way your hair sprawled across the sheets, the way your eyes fluttered closed yet struggled to remain open. He noticed them glistening with unshed tears, on the verge of falling, and a pang of guilt tugged at his heart.
He knew he was pushing you to your limits, but he couldn't help himself. He was simply using you, just like you asked him to. But seeing the tears welling in your eyes, a wave of tenderness washed over him, and he leaned down to kiss them away, whispering soft words of comfort.
"Shhh, it's okay," he murmured. Although his words were spoken softly, there was nothing gentle about the way he continued to fuck you. "You can take it. Hold on a little bit longer, I promise."
A choked sob escaped you as he pressed soft kisses to your cheeks, murmuring soothing words. One of his hands reached between you, settling on the lower part of your stomach before pressing down gently as he felt the outline of cock moving inside you. He let out a groan, overwhelmed by the sensation.
"That’s it, Angel," he murmured, his voice filled with admiration. "You're taking me so well."
You whimpered almost pathetically as everything started to blur. You were a sweaty mess, both of you were, his skin gliding along yours effortlessly as he continued to thrust into you. The sound of wet skin slapping against each other filled the room, so sticky, so messy, but you didn't care. All that mattered was the overwhelming pleasure coursing through your body, driving you closer and closer to the edge.
The throbbing between your legs was starting to burn, but at the same time, it felt so good—the way he was stretching you, the way you could feel him moving in and out of you. Every stroke sent waves of pleasure crashing over you, it was all too much but also not enough.
"S-Spence..." you whined, your head spinning with pleasure, almost too delirious as drool seeped down the corner of your lips. "Pl-Please, I-I can't—"
A soft chuckle escaped him as he watched you struggle to form coherent words. "Alright, alright, I got you," he murmured reassuringly. "On three now. Can you be a good girl and come at the count of three?"
You nodded weakly. "Yes, yes," you managed to whisper, your voice barely audible over the sound of your ragged breaths.
"That's my girl," he praised, his voice filled with satisfaction. "One..."
Your breath hitched as anticipation built within you. Obscene wet noises filled your ears as he continued to fuck you, and with each number, his thrusts grew more deliberate, more intense.
"Two..."
You whined and he swallowed your moans, capturing your mouth in a deep, passionate kiss. You couldn't form any coherent words. You couldn't even think. It was too fucking much and you were on the verge of your breaking point.
And then, on the final count, he drove into you with such force that it sent you hurtling over the edge, your body convulsing as waves of pleasure crashed over you.
"Three," he whispered as he pulled back slightly, a string of saliva connected your parted mouths.
You gasped, holding onto him tightly as waves of pleasure consumed you. Your senses overwhelmed, your vision blurred with white-hot intensity, and tears leaked from the corners of your eyes as you teetered on the edge of overstimulation.
T-Too much—You can't. You fucking can't.
The sensation never seemed to end and you found yourself surrendering to it, your mind going blank. It was as if you were intoxicated by the heady sensation, your senses dulled and heightened all at once, drunk on his touch. Your body felt so wet, so sensitive, so overwhelmed by the sheer force of your climax.
And when you thought it couldn't get any more intense, he proved you wrong by rutting his hips even harder with so much force as he chased his own high. He tucked his head in your neck, his hot breath fanning across your skin as he moaned into your ear. With a few final thrusts, he drove into you deeply, his body tensing as he released himself inside you.
You were tired, so overwhelmingly spent, and as you both came down from the high, you gasped and trembled, your body finally relaxing from the pent-up tension. Your eyes felt glassy and unfocused, blinking slowly as you registered his murmured praises against your neck and shoulder.
He gently pulled away, and you winced as you felt him still throbbing inside you. Slowly, he searched for your eyes, his gaze filled with tenderness, and sighed in relief when you looked up at him with a tired yet blissful smile on your lips.
He smiled softly, relieved by your response. "You're okay."
You nodded, still feeling a bit dazed. "Hmm," you murmured, running your fingers along his damp hair. "I'm more than okay."
He leaned in to press a gentle kiss to your forehead. "You did so well," he whispered, his voice barely above a breath. "I'm so proud of you."
You giggled. "Me? I never thought you could be tempted to do that so easily."
He chuckled softly, brushing his nose against yours. "You have that effect on me," he confessed. "Besides, it's hard to resist you."
"I am pretty irresistible, aren't I?"
"Absolutely," he replied as he brushed a stray strand of hair away from your face. He shifted his weight and started to pull out, only for you to wrap your legs around his waist, locking him in place.
"No, no," you pleaded. "Stay inside me for a while."
He paused, looking down at you with a smile. "We need to clean up."
"And we will." You ran a hand over his shoulder. "Just... give me five minutes."
He sighed, his resolve melting under your pleading gaze. "Alright, five minutes," he agreed, leaning down to press a gentle kiss to your lips. "But then we really need to clean up."
You responded with a soft hum, snuggling closer to him as he shifted toward the empty space on the bed. With a gentle gesture, he pulled you on top of him, enveloping you in his arms as you sprawled across his body.
You let out a sigh, tucking your face into the crook of his neck with the rhythm of his heart beating against your own. And as you savored the sensation of him still pulsing inside you, you smiled peacefully—you have never felt so complete.
I'm tempted to turn this into a series of one-shots where he and Reader explore new kinks together... or like how they try to navigate their relationship. I'm really, really tempted.
#gifwriting#spencer reid smut#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid fanfic#spencer reid x you#spencer reid fic#spencer reid x fem!reader smut#spencer reid#spencer reid x fem!reader#spencer reid x female reader#spencer reid x fanfiction#spencerreid#criminal minds#criminal minds fanfic#spencer reid x self insert#spencer reid fluff#Fanfiction
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earth i need to catch up on ur ratio fics (i read some of flower one and i ate that shit up omg) because now the thought of seething annoying veritas being all angry whenever you even look at someone else infests my mind like an annoying worm. i hope you know this is what those fics do to me
x : EQUILIBRIUM : *+゚
in which: ratio navigates through the perplexities of pining after you.
warnings: fluff, 1.6k words, intelligentsia guild!gn!reader is kind of a social butterfly and talkative, ratio is so pathetic i love him T^T, alcohol, aventurine feature! my writing isn't the best for this one i apologise :,D
a/n: thank u for the ask mhie!! i wanted to say that you enabled me perfectly because ever since his release, i've only ever thought about this one scenario where he's staring at reader from afar and absolutely seething because he's not the one talking to them xD sorry for taking so long omfg and im sorry for turning this into a fic, i just saw my opportunity and lunged at it like an animal rawr
Jealousy and envy are not familiar concepts to Dr. Ratio.
He knows of them, understands the inner workings and philosophical aptitude of both, knowing that they lead man down irrational paths. Yet, for all his years, he has not felt the bitterness of jealousy and envy squeeze him, cannot fathom why one cannot control their feelings and maintain modesty.
Perhaps, the root of it was whatever Ratio wanted, he received. The only thing he has ever craved is knowledge, and it is available for him with the flick of a page, absorbing even the most complex of theories with ease. Conceptual, mathematical, scientific- not a single school of thought has hidden itself from his vast mind, proven by the many PhDs he has with his name.
Everything fickle that anyone could ever crave has long been his.
Envious over someone else’s wealth? Money comes and goes, and merely serves as a medium of exchange. As long as he has enough to live comfortably, then he is content. Having too much of one thing can often result in a bottomless pit of wanting more, and material good was perhaps the most evil of all.
Jealous over someone else’s beauty? Compliments and adoration are not an unfamiliar concept to him; one glance at what’s under that stone mask will have others fawning over him instantly. He claims the mask is to protect him from idiots, but perhaps it also serves to shield others from the walking sculpture that is the Veritas Ratio, sharp features and toned body, there is nothing undesirable about him.
In conclusion, jealousy and envy are not familiar concepts to Dr. Ratio. Until he met you.
A fellow member of the Intelligentsia Guild but in another department, you too are a favoured delegate of the IPC, frequently attending the same events and trips as him. Thus, it was only natural that you’d become acquainted and that he’d grow to respect you, hearing about your achievements and dedications as an academic. What was unnatural, however, was the palpitations of his heart, weakness in his knees, paired with an overwhelming excitement to see you.
He’s no fool. These sensations were all symptoms of romantic attraction, but you were a variable uncounted for in the distribution of his life, and he was not ready for an outlier so powerful that it completely ‘skewed’ him over.
Now, he laments in the corner of champagne parties meant for socialites. He is no lover of mundane interaction but as his contract with the IPC, he comes as a representative of the Intelligentsia Guild.
These formal events always drained the life out of him, needing him to discard his everyday, flowey, carefree attire for a constraining suit, conforming him into the regular majority.
He raises the glass of champagne to his lips and takes a small sip, the liquor serves as lubricant to the throat. The smooth finish of the drink is exactly what he needs; talking about the same subject again and again becomes exhausting, and even though it is in his role criteria, Ratio cannot wait to leave.
But he won’t, because he hasn’t seen you yet.
Glancing around the room for the upteemth time this evening, you still have not entered his line of sight, and he leans against the bar in disappointment.
“Oh, why the long face, Ratio?” A mischievous voice coos from beside him. “It’s not a good look on you.”
���Spare me your sentiments, gambler,” Ratio spits back.
“As you wish. Not enjoying the party?”
“If you have something you wish to say then please, spare me the pleasantries.”
Aventurine laughs, all boisterous and extravagant, gold jewelry clicking against each other, as if coming alive to match his jovialness. He really is a personified headache. “You’re looking for someone, aren’t you?”
The scholar tenses, muscles tugging at the stiff fabric of his blazer, but that micro action was enough of an answer for Aventurine.
A gloved hand points up to the mezzanine of the grand hall. Ratio spots you, leaning against the railing whilst conversing with another man, one briefly talked to earlier. If he didn’t like him before, then he certainly didn’t now.
Handsome face turning into a small scowl, it’s almost as if you feel the intensity of a certain, golden stare, causing you to turn around and find the source, eyes eventually landing on the figures of a coworker or two. A brief smile graces your face before you turn around again, turning your back on the two onlookers.
Ratio loathes what he sees, and something within him yearns to be the only man you look at, causing an ugly, green sensation to brew within him; a concoction that can only be labelled as ‘jealousy’.
He just cannot figure out what other men have that he doesn’t; what is making him secondary in your heart? Why do you give these... idiots the time of day when you could be with him- talking to him?
It's all too perplexing, you make him perplexed.
“Well, go on, doctor,” Aventurine prompts. “Place your bets before it’s too late.”
The purple-haired sighs, pushing himself off the bar. His feet take him to you, up the velvet-carpeted stairs. His gaze never strays from you, ensuring you stay within his line of sight and eventually, he stops right behind you, acting as a looming shadow.
His gaze is cold, hoping to pierce through your conversation partner so he can finally cower away and make room for Ratio.
“Doctor!” You exclaim, surprised by his sudden appearance. “When did you get here?”
Taking a hint, the stranger finally begins to peel himself away. “It was lovely talking to you, Y/n. I hope this won’t be our last conversation.”
“Likewise, have a lovely evening,” you farewell him with a small smile as the other party turns and eventually disappears from sight.
Finally. Triumph and victory settles in Ratio’s chest when your attention is directed solely at him, but you look up at him with arms crossed and a raised eyebrow.
“I swore I saw you downstairs moments ago, how did you get up here so fast?”
“I simply walked a normal pace, is that so abnormal?”
“I suppose not,” you huff, rolling your eyes. Veritas allows himself a glance over of your outfit, admiring you. “Have you talked to anyone interesting?”
You are by far the most interesting part of the evening, he thinks.
“Hardly,” he murmurs.
“My guess is that you’d prefer to be grading student papers?” You muse, leaning in closer.
His heartbeat spikes. “Well, that is hard to say. Which would you prefer?”
“As much as I love my students, I need a break from the same thesis statements regurgitated in different formats. I’d rather be here.”
“Then that is my answer too.”
You give him a look that says ‘really?’, clearly not believing his aloof statement. Truthfully, he would rather be here because here is where you are, and he’d like a few moments with you before returning to the gloominess of his office. The hour hand is only at 11, what’s the rush?
Then, your eyes flicker to his neckline and they widen briefly, as if finding an issue with his tuxedo. “Hold still,” you command, hands coming up to rest on his sturdy chest.
You’re fixing his tie, he realises, feeling the fabric tighten ever so slightly as you adjust it. When you’re done, you flatten out the material with a satisfied smile, running your hands casually over his chest, and he hopes you cannot feel his heart jump. How do you touch him so easily, as if it means nothing?
“It was crooked,” you explain, “now you are looking as sharp as ever, Doc.”
“Thank you,” is the best thing he can sputter out.
“No problem, we need to have our genius looking proper at all times!”
Ratio is too stunned to speak, he fears that if he tried, whatever leaves his mouth will result in a various garbles and attempts at sentences.
Thankfully, you haven’t run out of words to say. “Oh, I have yet to get a drink! Will you accompany me? I could go for some refreshments right now.”
He nods and extends an arm for you to hold, and you happily accept it, holding onto his bicep as you ramble on about a conversation exchanged earlier in the night. If you were anyone else, he would not have cared in the slightest, but instead, he listens intently, taking slow and measured steps downstairs so you are comfortable.
In this bubble, the esteemed scholar is content. With you so close, it feels as if everything has clicked into place, like the scales of fate have finally balanced and equilibrium has been achieved. He could listen to you forever.
Unfortunately, all good things don’t last, because a face Ratio doesn’t recognise approaches you, hand resting on your shoulder. Judging from the manner of which they address and talk to you, you are close, and you don’t shrug them off. Next thing he knows, you’re ripped away from him, dragged into the sea of people.
You spare him a glance over your shoulder, as if apologising for the sudden disruption.
Still, he sighs, left behind with nothing but fervent symptoms of love clinging to his being, squeezing him for all he is.
© EARTHTOOZ 2024, do not steal, translate, repost my fics and do not recommend my fics onto any other site.
#earthtooz: honkai star rail#dr ratio x reader#veritas ratio x reader#honkai star rail x reader#hsr x reader#ratio x reader#dr ratio fluff
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Jacob Black's Self Saving System Pt.1
disclaimer *:・゚✧*:・゚✧ crack.swearing.not proofread
synopsis *:・゚✧*:・゚✧ Jason, a self-proclaimed no. 1 Stephenie Meyer hater, finds himself unexpectedly transmigrated into the very novel he disdained. Following this ironic twist of fate, he is now tasked with the challenge of creating a better version of the story himself.
a/n *:・゚✧*:・゚✧ Inspired from @duckysprouts ’s series. It’s so good ⁉️‼️. If you haven’t seen it already, PLEASE GO CHECK IT OUT. Like finally svsss content that isn’t shizun sphinx cats or binghe skin creature abomination. Art and concept so fresh it made my heart cry with joy and pulled me out of my three-month long writing slump. So, I humbly present this as an offering to our lord and savior, Ducky. Comment, Reblog and Like (∩˃o˂∩)♡
Twilight by Stephanie Meyer was a modern classic in its renaissance era with a large cult that loved to hate it. Set in a place with relentless rain, mist shrouded forest and an ethereal light piercing the gloom — the light being the one of only Edward Cullen. Though the statement is subject to fan bias — he was a man, rather sparkly vampire, who somehow managed to be both irresistible and perpetually constipated.
Nonetheless, his charms never overshadowed the stellar performance of our female lead, Isabella Marie Swan— better known as Bella — a teenager who gained worldwide fame for having a personality less vibrant than a wet cabbage. Together, they navigated the perilous world of teenage angst, vampire baseball, millenia old racist italian politicians and werewolves with a curious t-shirt allergy, all in an impressively monotone palette.
It was a heartwarming tale that began with awkward stares, cryptic yet nauseatingly clichéd conversations and Bella’s inexplicable attraction to danger, making the romance as thrilling as it was perplexing. Meanwhile, the supporting cast of her high school friends, each with their own irrelevant quirks and subplots, served as convenient plot devices — appearing and disappearing at the whim of the author.
And as if her love life wasn’t tumultuous enough, Bella befriended Jacob Black. A werewolf who, unsurprisingly, hated all things vampire and Edward Cullen in particular. Between Edward’s brooding, Jacob’s abs and Bella’s classic damsel-in-distress antics that made poor Elena Gilbert seem unremarkable by comparison — the story unfolded with the subtlety of a glitter bomb and reached unprecedented heights of melodrama. Something that helped the tale become a global phenomenon, demonstrating that improbable love stories can indeed shine in their own sparkly “skin-of-a-killer” fashion.
“This has to be the worst piece of literature I’ve ever read in my life.” Those were strong words from a man who spent years and at least six hundred dollars collecting softbacks and hardbacks in every special and limited edition the series offered. Jason Black was an anti-fan who lived to scoff at the literary mediocrities of authors who, after taking one look at their drafts, believed they deserved to be released into the world as actual literature. Such people, often inspired by similar works, spawned their own deranged narratives, subsequently contaminating the sanctity of literature.
In layman’s terms, Jason was a fervent hater of the highest order. He had a long list of things he despised about the series, yet curiously, re-watching the movies and re-reading the books always found its way to the top of his to-do list every other weekend. But do not get him wrong, not once did he say anything in favour of the series. Jason simply considered it one of those brain-rotting pieces that needed to be experienced to truly appreciate the beauty of classics like Emily Brontë and Jane Austen.
_username_1 : Bruh stfu. You’re probably an unemployed loner with nothing better to do in life than to be a keyboard warrior.
_username_2 : then idk buddy don’t read it ? It’s not that hard.
Jason huffed at the screen crossily, his fingers dancing over the keyboard unsure of what to type next. With a sigh, he stretched his arms as if preparing for battle. And a battle it was — being an anti-fan required more dedication, practice and patience than being a regular fan. What he didn’t realize was that he had knocked a water bottle off the table onto the frayed cord of his PC.
He couldn't fathom why people defended it as if their lives depended on it. If he ever met Stephenie Meyer, Jason would have a long talk with her about the plot—or rather, the lack thereof. With the number of plot holes in the books, they could qualify as swiss cheese. The inconsistencies were glaring: if sunlight made them sparkle, wouldn't they still sparkle during the day, just less brilliantly ? How did Jasper and Alice not overhear the phone call despite having super-hearing ? Why did Jasper go ballistic over a papercut when he attended a school where students would get paper cuts and scrapes all the time ? Why were vampires and werewolves the only species to exist ? And why was Bella, or more specifically her blood, so exceptional ? Did she perhaps descend from a line of flavourful blood havers or was it due to her mother's partial albinism ?
Was she special because she was the female lead, or was she the female lead because she was special ? There were so many unanswered questions and half-assed excuses for the events in the story that most explanations came from clever fans trying to make sense of things the author clearly put no effort into planning or thinking through. These questions had plagued him since he first read the series, and the lack of satisfying answers only fueled his irritation. So much so that Jason was embarrassed for the author. Regardless, he didn’t like the direction this conversation was going so he did what any intelligent person would do, i.e., spew hate comments and log off.
edward_my_bbg : Dumbfuck novel, Dumbfuck author
And as if on cue, a new notification popped up, dragging him back into the fray. It was another comment, this time mocking his apparent obsession with the series he claimed to hate. Jason’s face flushed with irritation as he furiously typed a retort, but before he could hit send, his screen flickered and went black.
He looked down and realized the water bottle he had knocked over had short-circuited his PC. With a groan, Jason leaned back in his chair, staring at the dark screen. It seemed the universe had decided to give him a break from his self-imposed battle. His hand fumbled in the dark for the plug only to feel water on the surface. The sharp pain and crackle of electricity were the last things he knew before he plunged headfirst into endless darkness.
[Activation Code:「Dumbfuck Author, Dumbfuck Novel」 ]
[System activated]
[Pairing command successful]
“What system ?” Jason asked out loud into the void even though he knew that it was most likely a figment of his imagination. He hadn’t expected to receive a reply however he did receive one much to his surprise.
[Welcome to the system. During the opening of the 「you can you up」system currently in its development phase, we wish to provide you with the best experience. It is our sincere hope that during the process, you will achieve what you have stated: to transform a piece of stupid writing in accordance with your wishes into a high-end, expansive, and classic work. We wish you happiness.]
Jason blinked, trying to make sense of the message. He glanced around the dim room, half-expecting to see some kind of holographic interface or futuristic display but there was nothing. Just the voice in his head and the darkness. “What the hell is this ?” he muttered, feeling a mix of confusion and curiosity.
[You have been selected to participate in the beta phase of the 「you can you up」 system. Your task is to improve the story you despise, turning it into a masterpiece. All resources and guidance will be provided to you. Do you accept this challenge ?]
Jason hesitated, the situation seemed absurd, yet a part of him was intrigued. As he sat in silence, a thought occurred to him—what if he could actually fix all the plot holes that drove him up a wall ? Maybe this was his chance to prove he could do better. But then, the possibility of all of this being real seemed too slim. How did he get here ? What happened to him after the electric shock? Was he dying, or was he already dead ? "And if I don't accept ?" he asked, uncertainty and fear bleeding into his voice despite his attempt at maintaining his composure. The system responded quickly in the same mechanical tone as before.
[Your connection between your former body and soul was severed before the initiation of the program. If you choose not to accept, you will be returned to your previous reality with no changes made. This opportunity is unique and will not be offered again.]
“Severed from my body ? Wait— doesn’t that mean I’ll die if I don’t accept ?” Jason's question hung in the air, met with nothing but silence from the system. The lack of response only confirmed his fear.
The system's silence was deafening, seemingly pressing him to make a decision. Realizing he had little choice, Jason took a deep breath. “Fine, I accept,” he said, trying to sound more confident than he felt. How bad could it possibly be ?
[Command acknowledged. Initializing story rewrite mode.]
The void around him began to shift and wrap. Till now he felt as though he was floating with no sensation except the system’s sound. His reality dissolved into swirling colours and Jason felt himself being pulled into a vortex. When the chaos settled, he heard a man’s voice call out to him. Unlike the clinical tone of system, this voice felt comforting and personal. He could feel tender warmth run through him however he couldn’t quite figure out what the voice was saying.
“Son ? Can you hear me ?”
“Dad ?” Jason murmured involuntarily, his voice hoarse as if he had just woken up from a long sleep. The gravel in the voice reminded him of the joys of his childhood when his dad was still — wait a second. Who the hell is that ?
His eyes struggled to focus as his eyelids fluttered a few times. Eventually, he was able to make out his surroundings. The first thing he noticed was the ceiling. Unlike the damp ceiling of his old apartment with its peeling plaster and harsh lighting, this one had old glow-in-the-dark moon and star stickers. It wasn’t familiar, but it seemed oddly comforting, like he had known it all his life. He slowly turned his head and saw a middle-aged man sitting on a wheelchair beside him with concern clouding his face. The man's russet complexion was lined with wrinkles yet his hair was long and lustrous.
“Where am I ?”
“You’re at home. You’ve been asleep for so long, it’s alright if you’re confused. Take your time son.” The man he called ‘dad’ answered sincerely.
Jason’s mind raced as he tried to piece together what had happened. The familiarity of the room and the comforting presence of the man didn’t align with the reality he remembered. In that moment, everything came back to him—his death, the void, the system, everything. Jason went into what could only be described as psychological shock. His brain went on autopilot.
The man reached out to grab Jason’s hand, but Jason flinched and pulled away. Slivers of hurt flashed in the old man’s eyes as he slowly withdrew his hand. Jason hadn’t meant to react so harshly, but the information dump combined with the influx of sensory input, he was simply too overwhelmed to cope.
“I-I think i need some space. Do you mind ?” Jason spoke each word carefully, then added, “...dad,” feeling strangely guilty for hurting his feelings. The old man nodded slowly and wheeled himself out of the room. As soon as he was gone, Jason jumped out of bed and ran to the mirror. "Who the FUCK is this?"
Staring back at him was a boy, fifteen or sixteen, with the same russet skin as the old man and glossy black hair that looked like it belonged in a shampoo commercial. Recognizing the features, Jason knew this could only be one person.
[System activation successful ! Binding your role as : Jacob Black]
[System : Booting Up]
Jason, now Jacob Black, stared at his reflection in disbelief. The reality of his situation hit him like a shit ton of bricks. He brought his fist to his mouth and sobbed into it, and here he thought college was devastating. “But I’m Team Edward,” he choked out between sobs. “That’s so fucked up.”
[Thank you for initiating the execution of the system. You are not bound with the account ‘Jacob Black’. All resources and guidance will be provided to you in due time. Initial B points : 100]
Jason—Jacob—felt a rush of confusion and frustration. “Now what the hell are B points ?!” he yelled, his voice reverberating off the walls of the unfamiliar room. The loudness of his own voice startled him, making him realize just how different everything felt in this new body.
[As the plot progresses, a number of opportunities to gain more points will be available. Please make sure your B points are not lower than 0. Otherwise, the system will automatically impose penalties.]
He stumbled back from the mirror, running a hand through his hair, which was definitely longer and thicker than he remembered. He could feel the strength in his limbs, the vitality of youth coursing through him. Yet, despite the physical vigor, his mind was in turmoil. He had transmigrated into the very novel he hated; the universe always seemed to have a field day when it came to ruining his life. Jacob looked around the room that was littered with the relics of a life he had to now live — a cozy bed with rumpled sheets, a desk cluttered with schoolbooks and posters of motorcycles, bands and scenic landscapes on the walls.
“Um, so is Bella here ?” Jacob asked, scarfing down the bacon his dad made for him. Despite stressing over the role he was supposed to play in the story, he quickly adapted to his new life. He had a family, a house to live in, no worries about finding employment, no bills or taxes, a social life—or at least he assumed he had one—and, most importantly, no backaches. In hindsight, this might not be all that bad.
“Oh, you remember that ? Charlie said she’s arriving in a couple of days,” his dad, Billy, replied. Jacob felt a strange mix of anticipation and relief. Unlike most unfortunate transmigratees, he had no death flags to worry about, so he could sit back and watch Bella and Edward fall in love without “Jacob” interrupting them. Maybe he could even make things easier for Bella by acting like the perfect wingman. Who cared about making a better story anyway ? And once he had seen his OTP together, he could take his ticket out of town after the wedding and never return so that he could avoid the whole Renesmee business because some fates are worse than death.
[WARNING: Your plan is extremely dangerous and constitutes a violation. Please do not attempt it, or the system will impose strict penalties.]
Jacob choked on his water as the sudden warning window popped up in front of him. For a moment, he was so immersed in the domestic comfort of his new life that he almost forgot about the cursed system. His father looked at him with concern.
“Water went down the wrong pipe, that’s all. Nothing to worry about,” Jacob said awkwardly, trying to reassure his father. So you can read minds now ? He internally taunted the system.
[It is a feature designed to ensure maximum support for the user.]
“That’s bullshit. Also, what do you mean by violation ?” Jacob asked. Does this system really have no respect for privacy ? If he didn’t know better, he’d think it was some kind of Zuckerberg’s meta gimmick.
[You are currently at the beginning stage. OOC function freeze is activated. You must complete the beginning stage before any functions can be unlocked. If you perform any actions against the original ‘Jacob Black’ role before the functions are unfrozen, a certain number of B points will be deducted.]
Given his extensive time spent on the internet, Jacob was well aware of what OOC meant, and he knew it wasn’t a good sign. OOC stood for Out Of Character, referring to actions taken by a role that deviated from how the character was originally written.
“FUCK OFF. I’m an adult. I already finished my degree and Bella is like, a baby. And you can forget the whole Renesmee shit too. Bella belongs with Edward and and I have no intention of pursuing either her or her future daughter. So back off, you creep of a system.”
[WARNING: The system is issuing another alert. If your B points fall below 0, you will incur a penalty, which involves being automatically transported back to your original world.]
“You know, threatening me with death is really getting old,” Jacob stared at the warning message with his anger mounting. It felt like the system was encroaching on every aspect of his new life, imposing rules and restrictions without offering any clarity or real support.
He took a deep breath, trying to push past his irritation. There was no point in arguing with an automated system, especially one that clearly had its own agenda. Jacob decided to focus on what he could control. He needed to immerse himself in his role as Jacob Black and complete the introductory stage without attracting undue attention. The system’s warnings might be annoying, but he couldn’t let them derail his efforts to adapt to his new life.
As he finished his breakfast, Jacob glanced around the house. It was warm and welcoming, albeit a little messy, which was understandable. He and his dad were the only ones living there and according to his dad, he had been inexplicably unconscious for almost a week. Keeping the house tidy wasn't exactly a priority for a man worried sick about his son.
“Thanks for breakfast… Dad,” Jacob said, still not used to the idea of having a father again. There was the whole issue of stealing the real “Jacob” ’s life, dealing with imposter syndrome, and the guilt of replacing the memory of his own father by calling this old man his dad. But that was an existential crisis he chose not to mull over at the moment, especially on the precipice of the story's start. Call him selfish, but he preferred to focus on his blessings.
“I’ll go take a walk. I’ve been asleep for a while, so I need to… uh, stretch my legs,” Jacob said awkwardly, hoping Billy wouldn’t notice anything strange about his behavior.
“Sure thing, son. Also grab some red meat from the store for dinner. A growing kid like you needs that protein. And buy yourself something nice with the leftover money,” Billy replied, taking out his wallet and handing him some cash.
Jacob stared at the man in awe. As a kid who had bounced around the foster system after his dad died, he was used to being scorned and neglected. This might be part of the reason why he had become a social recluse, spending his time bashing bad literature and authors online. To him, Billy Black was the closest thing he had ever seen to an angel.
Jacob took the money, still feeling a bit dazed. “Thanks, Dad,” he managed to say, pocketing the cash. The air filling his lungs was much fresher than the pollution-riddled air of the city he used to live in. Nature seemed a lot nicer than he remembered. So, here's a lesson for the kids—don’t wait until you die and get transmigrated into a novel you hate to understand the importance of getting outside and appreciating nature. In short, go touch some fucking grass before it’s too late.
Almost as if by instinct he found himself at La Push beach. He wandered through the familiar yet new surroundings, trying to piece together his plan. If he was going to be stuck in this world, he might as well make the best of it. He thought about the story and mentally reviewed his plan. He would stay under the radar, be friendly but unobtrusive and focus on blending in with the locals. If he played his cards right, he might just manage to navigate this strange new life without getting points deducted by the system’s restrictions.
After strolling along the shore for a while, Jacob found a rock to sit on and watch the ocean. It was a stark contrast to the urban jungle he was accustomed to, this place was serene and almost idyllic.
“Ayo, is that Jacob ? Hey, Jake !” he heard someone call out. A moment later, a boy close to his age ran up to him, followed by one more. “Um, hey guys. How’s it... going ?” Socializing wasn’t one of Jacob’s strong suits; in fact, it was the exact opposite of the skill he had meticulously avoided developing over the years.
“Man, the whole crew was freaking out about you. You were out cold for a week and for no reason !” One thing Jacob appreciated about the system was the introduction tags above each character’s head. The boy speaking was named Quil, his cousin from the Quileute tribe. He knew these interactions were unavoidable, given their significance to his new role in the plot.
“Well, I got better ?” Jacob attempted a witty quip but cringed at how poorly it landed. To his surprise, the two boys just laughed. “I’m just glad you’re okay. Stop by Sam’s sometime; he’s been asking about you,” Embry said, giving Jacob a friendly slap on the shoulder.
“Wait Sam ? Right of course. Duh. Sam’s place. Got it.” Jacob replied, blinking in confusion for a moment. Sam Uley was the Alpha—or at least the to-be Alpha—of the pack Jacob was supposed to join during New Moon.
[Mild OOC warning]
“Ay man, you feeling okay ?” Embry asked again, noticing Jacob’s hesitation. Jacob froze, Embry Call was the real Jacob’s best friend and if he figured out that Jason wasn’t really Jacob, it would spell massive trouble for him.
Jacob forced a smile. “Uh, yeah. I just—” He quickly tried to think of something. What would Jacob Black say in this situation ? What does he do to feel better ? He racked his brain for answers, knowing he needed to play the part convincingly, at least till he found a way to unfreeze the OOC function.
Go bother Bella ? a small voice suggested. Bella’s not here yet dumbass, another voice countered sharply. After years of social isolation, Jason’s inner dialogue had evolved to the point where he could have entire discussions with himself. No, he wasn’t schizophrenic.
“—I was just going to grab some red meat to chow on and uh y’know, work on my bike,” he finished, hoping his voice didn’t betray his nerves.
Embry and Quil exchanged a knowing look, which made Jacob's anxiety spike only to burst into laughter. “Classic Jake. At this rate, you might end up marrying your bike,” Quil teased and Jacob laughed along, though he desperately wanted to crawl into a hole and never come out again.
“Just take it easy, yeah ? We don’t want you passing out on us again. By the way, there's a sale at the store on the other side of town,” Embry squeezed Jacob’s shoulder reassuringly again. The familiarity they seemed to share with him was comforting, even if he felt like an imposter. He knew he had to get up to speed quickly if he wanted to maintain this facade. They soon parted ways and Jacob headed towards the store.
The store lady was overly enthusiastic upon seeing Jacob. He couldn’t tell if it was because of his face or the fact that he was a regular. As Jason, he had always been below average in looks and physique. Whereas, by the virtue of being the second male lead of a popular teenage romance novel, Jacob Black was undeniably attractive. With his deep-set dark eyes, prominent cheekbones, and beautiful long hair, he looked like someone Jason would have envied. Maybe he could try his hand at modeling once the story ended, because there was no way he was putting himself through college again.
And as unpredictable as the weather of Forks was, it began to rain. Normally, Jason would wait it out and then go but now that he as in Jacob’s body, he thought to test his body’s limits. Like c’mon a little drizzle isn’t going to hurt a big strong werewolf alpha-to-be. He stepped out into the rain, feeling the cool droplets on his skin. It was refreshing, almost invigorating. Jacob’s body seemed to handle the cold and wet far better than Jason’s ever did. As he made his way back the store, he noticed people giving him friendly nods and waves. It felt strange to be acknowledged so warmly, a stark contrast to the anonymity he was used to.
At the red light he stopped, waiting for it to turn green. Sure, there were no cars around and he could have just walked, but road rules were no joke. He liked this life too much to risk having it taken away by truck-kun. “Hey system, is double isekai a thing?” he asked. The system didn’t reply, so that was probably a no.
Jacob glanced to his side and saw a person standing under a large black umbrella. A strong sweet scent pricked his nose. How strong does this guy’s cologne have to be to reach me even with the rain ? There was a name tag hovering above the person’s head, but it was obscured by the umbrella, as was his face. One thing he had learned was that only people relevant to the story had name tags over their heads, which meant this person was a character in the story. He looked down at the stranger’s hand—it looked like porcelain.
Jacob felt a sense of foreboding, creeping up his veins. His instincts were on high alert, telling him that this stranger was no ordinary person. The rain began to pour harder, each drop bouncing off the asphalt with increasing intensity.
The person probably noticed Jacob staring and as he did, the umbrella tilted slightly, revealing a glimpse of a pale, almost ethereal face with piercing golden eyes. The moment their gazes met, Jacob was momentarily blinded by a brilliant golden aura radiating from the name tag above the person’s head.
[Edward Cullen]
Jacob’s heart skipped a beat. Of course, it had to be Edward. What were the odds of encountering your favorite character on the very first day of your new life ? He felt his knees weaken. Despite the dim lighting and gloomy setting, Edward was undeniably striking. The rain seemed to fall more slowly around him, as if even the weather was reluctant to mar his flawlessness . His tousled bronze hair framed his face perfectly and Jacob felt an inexplicable urge to reach out and touch it. Despite all his criticisms of the novel, Edward had always held a special place in his heart for reasons Jacob couldn’t quite explain.
Damn, this mf looks anemic as hell. Maybe I should feed him. It was a half-serious thought, borne from both concern and his internal struggle to reconcile his feelings towards the character with the reality of his situation.
[OOC WARNING! OOC WARNING!]
[Edward Cullen is your enemy.]
“Fuck off, he’s my babygirl,”Jacob shot a mental retort at the system in exasperation and a streak of protectiveness. The system’s declaration that Edward was an enemy wasn’t misplaced given Jacob’s role in the novel but that didn’t mean it wasn’t at odds with his feelings.
Edward had always been his favorite character, a source of fascination and admiration. This was supposed to be his chance to explore and perhaps even improve upon the narrative, not to be embroiled in conflict with a character he held dear.
Jacob didn't even notice when the light turned green and Edward started walking away, his steps soundless on the wet pavement. Acting on impulse or perhaps some hidden desire, Jacob found himself walking towards Edward and grabbing his elbow, accidentally knocking his umbrella aside. Edward stopped and turned to him as the rain continued to soak them both. His gaze was like a sharp, unyielding beam of light, cutting through the rain. His eyes, an unusual shade of golden amber, held a depth that seemed to pierce directly into Jacob's soul, scrutinizing every hidden corner of his being.
[OOC! OOC! OOC! OOC! OOC! OOC! OOC! OOC! OOC! OOC! OOC! OOC! OOC! OOC! OOC! OOC! OOC! OOC!]
[EDWARD CULLEN IS YOUR ENEMY]
I’m so stupid — I forgot completely. Jacob and Edward haven’t met yet. Maybe… maybe I can salvage this ? Be a dick and still be nice ? He definitely didn’t want to end up on Edward’s bad side, nor did he want to break the system’s rules. Annoying as it was, the system was what kept him alive. Though he’d never say it out loud, he was terrified at the thought of dying, again. The system’s constant reminders of their supposed enmity were starting to grate on him, but he couldn’t afford to make more mistakes. What was a man to do when every choice seemed fraught with peril ?
Ack — he’s staring. Can he hear my thoughts ? I hope not. He and Bella meet soon, if I remember correctly so— Jacob’s anxiety skyrocketed under the weight of that gaze. His heart pounded in his chest, each beat drumming in his ears. A tight knot of dread twisted in his stomach and whether it was the rain or not, he could feel cold sweat forming on his palms. He needed to say something—anything—that wouldn’t completely derail the plot but also wouldn’t make Edward hate him from the start, even if it was inevitable.
“Oh uh — my bad, dude. I just thought you looked kinda sick so I thought — I mean,” Jacob scrambled for an explanation, forcing a nonchalant tone as he released Edward’s elbow. He felt like a small animal trapped in the headlights of an oncoming car, desperately searching for a way to escape unscathed.
“—Uh, here.” He shoved the raw steak he had just bought into Edward’s arms. The system fell silent for a moment, as stunned by his actions as Jacob was. The sound of the rain was almost deafening as awkward silence stretched between them. Edward looked down at the raw steak in his hands, confusion and surprise painting his features.
Without waiting for a reply, Jacob quickly turned on his heel and hurried away, his footsteps splashing through the rain-soaked pavement. “Later ! Get that iron up and be the lady killer you were born to be !” he called over his shoulder. After walking a few metres, he paused briefly and added,“ And seriously lay off the sauvage man !”
As he put more distance between them, Jacob’s thoughts began to spiral. What had he just done ? Did Edward think he was completely nuts ? Or worse, could Edward have read his thoughts and seen through his facade ? Jacob shuddered at the possibility.
[Why did you do that ?]
“I don’t know okay !? I thought it’d help with looking y’know less dead when he meets Bella.” He shrugged. Explaining himself to the system felt pointless considering it was neither his parent nor his babysitter. The system remained silent, as if considering his response, Jacob rolled his eyes.
[OOC ! -20 B points ↓ ↓ ↓]
“Oh come on !”
“Still staring at that bag of steak, Ed ?” The pixie-haired woman leaned over her brother’s shoulder, teasing him.
“Go away, Alice,” Edward muttered, his gaze still locked on the steak as if it held some profound answers of the universe. His fingers occasionally running over the plastic, making the blood inside to squelch against the surface.
“Seriously what’s up with you ?” Alice frowned, dropping the banter. Ever since Edward had returned, he’d been fixated on this bag of steak that suspiciously smelled like wet dog. What was even more peculiar was the fact that she hadn’t had any visions of this event. Normally, Alice caught glimpses of all the interesting things happening with her family throughout the day but she had no clue how Edward had ended up with that steak. And from the look on his face, Edward didn’t look like he was divulging anything either.
“Nothing just… trying to figure someone out.” Edward sighed. Alice was his favorite family member, and he seldom told her off but this was something he couldn’t even make sense of himself. If he told Alice, she’d likely blow the whole thing out of proportion. But despite everything, one question kept lingering in his mind.
Who was that man ?
A.n - should I make this into a series ? If yes please lemme know if you want to be added to the taglist.
#jacob black’s self saving system#jbsss#scum villian self saving system#scumbag system#scum villain#twilight#jacob black#bella swan#edward cullen#luo binghe#shen quingqiu#svsss#mxtx svsss#mxtx#ducky if you’re seeing this just know I owe you my life and firstborn
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I can’t stop thinking about Scott x Tyler’s young sister! Reader. Like she’s all bubbly and sweet offering him food, and he starts to feel guilty over being so condescending towards their group. Maybe like he comes to her hotel room one day to apologize (kinda like Tyler bringing Kate that pizza) and they just start to bond. Anyways Scott has such a chokehold on me
Scott seems to have a chokehold on a lot of us. I’m not sure what it is about a mean, 6'4" engineer, but I feel like I could fix him (though I probably couldn’t).
Thank you so much for sharing your idea with me!
Since I strive to be as inclusive as possible, I usually avoid writing readers who are directly related to another character. That’s to ensure that everyone can insert themselves into my stories. However, it would certainly be hilarious to see Tyler come unglued when he finds out his little sister is shacking up with the resident asshole.
I do like this concept for a reader who Tyler and co adopt as their little sister so we get the same protective vibes.
Scott would be annoyed and confused by her, simply because being happy and positive all the time is not how he operates. I love the idea of him being really awful to the reader, only to realize—after he’s driven her away—that he actually liked having her around. (Please don't ask who hurt me in the past for this be a sexy plot point for me, okay?)
He’d be the most awkward apologizer, standing there rubbing the back of his neck and sort of half-insulting her in the process. He would likely bring a peace offering, something specific he’s seen her eating because, at the end of the day, he is a smart and observant guy.
The reader would just stand there, perplexed, until she finally asks, “Are you trying to apologize to me?”
“Yeah,” Scott replies, as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world.
"Oh….you're like dumb smart, huh?" She says with a laugh. "Well, I forgive you."
Scott would stand there, looking surly, until she invites him to have some pizza and watch a movie.
#is#scott#scott twisters#scott x reader#scott miller#scott miller x you#scott miller x reader#twisters
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Eddie as an Unreliable Narrator
I want to expand a little on something I talked about over on twitter, which is the concept of Eddie as an unreliable narrator and how this has kept him from confronting his sexuality.
Before the inevitable “Eddie said he was heterosexual, he’s a straight man,” in the comments, I’ll just say that we already know gay Eddie has been a consideration from LFJR confirming it was originally going to be Tommy and Eddie together, never mind all the queer coding to date in Eddie’s general storyline. If you choose to take Eddie’s words at face value, that’s fine, you do you! This post will get into why I don’t.
Eddie tells Father Brian that he doesn’t believe that he deserves to be forgiven, so when he sees him again, he recognizes Eddie’s decision to pick the healthier, less fun beverage for what it is: Eddie depriving himself of one of the small joys there are to be found in life. He confronts him on this, asking why he changed his mind, and Eddie looks genuinely perplexed. “…decided I wanted water?”
“See, I think that you were punishing yourself. I think that you were denying yourself because you don’t feel worthy right now.” You can tell that Eddie thinks this is a crock of shit and that the priest doesn’t understand him at all - right up until he says Eddie doesn’t feel worthy of joy.
Eddie tries to deflect by saying he doesn’t have a lot to feel joyful about, and in doing so he is denying the accusation by saying it’s not about what he feels he’s worthy of. There just isn’t a lot of joy in his life to be had right now. The priest challenges this perspective by putting a positive spin on all of the negative things Eddie lists, and in doing so, removes the excuse Eddie is using to avoid confronting that this is about him punishing himself. That he has been punishing himself, and it’s not clear yet how far back this behaviour actually goes.
Because here’s the thing: Eddie thinks the water is just water. He doesn’t understand the subconscious compulsion behind it, because this is something he has been doing for so long it no longer feels abnormal. At some point, he started depriving himself of enjoying the little things in life as a way of punishing himself whenever he felt like he wasn’t living up to expectations, whenever he thought he was failing someone. The question is, when did it start, and what was the first thing he felt he deserved punishment for?
When Father Brian identifies the mustache as a disguise he asks Eddie what he thinks he’ll see when he looks in the mirror without it, and Eddie says he thinks he’ll see a failure, a man who doesn’t deserve the joy he’s been depriving himself of. In a way, he is trying to become someone else to avoid confronting the person that he actually is, and the reason he feels he’s failed.
This isn’t really something new: Shannon dies, and Eddie joins an illegal fight club where physical pain becomes an outlet for the anger and frustration he’s feeling. Chris is afraid of losing another parent, so Eddie deprives himself of the job that gives his life meaning outside of being Christopher’s dad rather than trying to find another solution. None of this is even taking into account the relationships he forces himself into because he feels he needs to find a replacement mother for Chris, and how forcing himself into that box he so clearly does not want for himself is just another way of depriving himself of joy.
Father Brian tells Eddie that God has already forgiven him for his mistakes, but here’s the thing: Eddie doesn’t give a shit about God’s forgiveness, not really. The forgiveness Eddie is trying to earn isn’t even just Christopher’s - it’s his own, too. And he doesn’t know how to do that, because he doesn’t know how to love himself. The only part of himself he’s ever tried to love - being a father - has been irreparably damaged in his eyes. So how does he come back from that? How does he get back to a point where he feels deserving of being Christopher’s dad again?
What’s interesting to me is that I do believe Christopher is the one bit of joy Eddie’s allowed himself up until now. His birth is the only time during Eddie’s entire marriage with Shannon that we see him actually happy, and this is one of the first examples of Eddie being an unreliable narrator that we have in the show because he acts like this wasn’t the case.
Yet he was visibly unhappy for every part of his marriage we were shown, and by his own admission joining the army was just as much about running from it as it was about providing for his own family. He is unable to define what Shannon means to him, and he says he loved being married to her rather than saying he loved her. But in Shannon’s death, Eddie has romanticized her image so much that when Kim asks if she was the love of his life, he says he thinks she was.
If Chris represents one of the sole joys Eddie has allowed himself in life, then Shannon is the reason he has received it, and the guilt he feels for letting her down - for not loving her the way he should, for not being able to be there for her, for not being able to save her despite that being his job - is so immense he can’t possibly imagine atoning for it. And to understand his guilt, we have to confront the reason he wasn’t able to be the husband he felt she deserved.
See, we could maybe argue that Eddie didn’t initially try to reconcile with Shannon while she was alive because he felt guilty for pushing her away, except when he has a moment to get back together, he chokes. He can’t answer her when she asks what she means to him, and the fact that she even has to ask tells the audience that she isn’t sure of his feelings, even though they’ve been actively sleeping together again and spending time together as a family. He is only able to make an offer of commitment when she thinks she is pregnant again, a repeat of how they got married in the first place, and I think that’s what ultimately answers her question. She is the mother of his child, not the love of his life, but to Eddie, Chris is the real love and joy of his life, so the two kind of feel like the same thing.
We have seen in Bobby’s storyline a widow with a tremendous amount of guilt move on and find his happily ever after. Bobby actually plays a role in the death of his wife and children, and he grapples with his guilt and suicidal tendencies because of it, but he is still able to heal as much as one can from such a trauma and fall in love with Athena.
In contrast, Eddie shows no interest in finding another relationship until he is prompted by others. When he does try to date, he has to fake his way through two separate relationships where he just couldn’t love them the way he thought he should. He tried to - he wanted to. It would have been easier for him, and for Chris, if he could have.
There’s nothing objectively wrong with either of the women, he seems to enjoy their company and he finds them to be pretty, but it just isn’t enough. On top of that, he admits dating has always felt like a performance, which you can especially see in his relationship with Ana where he just doesn’t seem entirely like himself. He’s the image of the man he thinks she wants him to be, because he doesn’t want another repeat of his relationship with Shannon where he always fell short of what she wanted and needed. He’s the “perfect boyfriend,” except for the part where he doesn’t feel the same about her at all.
Marisol is a little different. While her development is limited, she’s got a more laid-back personality that is closer to Eddie’s own, and arguably she should be a good fit. Marisol feels a bit like what Eddie’s idealized relationship with Shannon was like, and that’s what makes it so very interesting when Eddie blows it all up by going out with Shannon’s doppelganger. Their relationship is an emotional affair, and Eddie admits it isn’t sex that he wants with her which is interesting because we know he and Marisol are no longer being intimate. The truth is, he doesn’t know what it is he wants from Kim, or frankly Marisol - just like he didn’t know with Shannon.
Unfortunately, before figuring it out he pays for his sin of lying to everyone - to Chris, to Buck, and to Marisol - by getting caught in the worst possible way and traumatizing Chris in the process. We know this is how he feels from his actual confession to Father Brian, and I think to him it is the worst of all the sins he feels he’s committed because the only way he has been able to make up for everything else up until now is by being the best parent he possibly can. In a way, he has been trying to heal his own childhood trauma by breaking the cycle of toxic parenting, and giving Chris the life he never got to have.
So to Eddie, traumatizing Chris is his greatest failure, and he doesn’t know how to recover from it because he still doesn’t understand why he got involved with Kim in the first place. It’s not just that he missed Shannon, or he would be able to explain that. It goes back to what Eddie says to Kim moments before Chris walks in - that he feels broken, and like he can’t fix it. This feeling is only compounded by the fear that he has ruined his relationship with his son forever.
The conversation with Father Brian tells us that Eddie is hiding from himself and that he is denying himself of his desires as some kind of penance. The priest recognizes this and he recognizes that Eddie doesn’t want the cop-out of being forgiven on behalf of God. He is someone who needs to feel they have actually earned it, and that’s okay - just as long as he remembers that in order to take care of others, he has to take care of himself, too. More than that, he’s directed to do something fun just for himself, and those Catholic rituals that are still part of him even if he doesn’t believe in them take over and allow him to do just that.
There’s something really beautiful about the same institution that led to Eddie and Shannon getting married too young being what kick-starts his journey of self discovery. It was never about rediscovering religion - he was never religious to begin with. It was always about going back to that old wound and finally healing from everything that followed. It was about reclaiming the childhood he lost from growing up too fast. But mostly, it was about being told he is allowed to focus on his needs sometimes, too.
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Imagine that the reader, Charles, Lando and Carlos randomly get the idea to go to Costco and try some viral food they saw on TikTok so when they go to buy the product, Charles grabs a separate cart and when the guys ask him why if they are only going to buy one thing, he says that the reader always ends up buying too many things and then has nowhere to put them so Charles is used to carrying an extra cart because he knows his girlfriend is a compulsive shopper.
retail therapy
★ : feat :: charles leclerc x reader ★ : genre :: fluff; crack ★ : word count :: 1.4k ★ : a/n :: i've had this in my drafts for so long. i'm so sorry love, i unfortunately suck and forget to schedule the post. thanks for the fun request <33
You found yourself in the expansive parking lot of a large store on an otherwise ordinary Saturday afternoon, accompanied by Charles, Lando, and Carlos.
The mission? To grab the viral food product that TikTok had unanimously declared a must-try: Shin Ramyun. It was supposed to be a simple in-and-out operation, but Charles had other plans.
”Why'd you grab an extra cart?” Lando asked, one eyebrow raised in confusion as Charles nonchalantly pushed the second cart alongside his own.
”We're only buying one thing,” Carlos chimed in, clearly perplexed.
Charles sighed dramatically, casting a knowing glance at you, who were busily scrolling through your phone to find the exact aisle where the magical ramen resided.
”You guys don't understand,” Charles began, shaking his head as if explaining a basic concept to toddlers before whispering so you wouldn’t catch it. ”Y/N always ends up buying too many things. It's like she has a radar for… unnecessary purchases.”
”Hey!” you protested, looking up from your phone. ”They're not unnecessary. They're uh- useful in unexpected ways!”
”Like the 50-pound bag of gummy bears?” Charles retorted, smirking when he saw your eyes widen. ”Or the industrial-sized jar of pickles you bought last time?”
”They were on sale,” you defended, crossing your arms. ”And you love pickles.”
”I love them in moderation, not in bulk.”
”You take that back, mister!”
Lando and Carlos exchanged amused glances, clearly enjoying the back-and-forth.
”So, what's the plan?” Lando asked, eager to get the show on the road.
”Simple,” you said, a mischievous glint in your eye. ”We go in, get the Shin Ramyun, and maybe... just maybe... see if there are any good deals.”
Charles rolled his eyes but couldn't suppress a smile. ”And this,” he said, gesturing to the extra cart, ”is why we can't have nice, quick shopping trips.”
You entered the store, greeted by the overwhelming scent of bulk goods and free samples. You navigated through the aisles, Charles dutifully pushing one carts, while Lando and Carlos alternatively pushed the other.
”Okay, the Shin Ramyun should be in aisle 12,” you announced, leading the way. ”But we should definitely check out the electronics section first. You never know when there's a sale.”
”We're here for food,” Charles reminded you, though his tone was more resigned than stern.
”And electronics,” you added cheerfully. ”Come on, it's right this way.”
Lando nudged Carlos, whispering, ”Ten bucks says our bill will be over two grand.”
”Mate, talk around five and you're on,” Carlos replied with a grin.
Sure enough, as you wandered through the electronics section, your eyes lit up at the sight of a massive flat-screen TV on sale.
”Look at this deal!” you exclaimed, practically bouncing with excitement. ”We could totally use a new TV.”
The boys behind you just shook their heads and to appease them, you slowly started, ”I’m just saying that the bonus I got last week has got to—”
”You guys have a TV,” Lando snickered.
”Yes, but not this TV,” you said, gesturing dramatically. ”Think about movie nights! Think about the sports games! Think about—”
”Think about where we're going to put it,” Charles interrupted, though he was already losing the battle. The allure of a good deal was strong, even for him. You could see it in his eyes that he was already almost convinced.
”Fine,” you huffed anyway, moving along. ”But we're coming back for it if we have room.”
Lando and Carlos exchanged looks, trying to stifle their laughter.
”You guys are a mess,” Carlos said, shaking his head. ”This is better than Netflix.”
”Just wait until we hit the snack aisle,” Lando added, trying to be discreet but you caught it. ”That's when things get really interesting.” He just gave you a nervous cheeky smile in return as you glared.
As you made your way to aisle 12, you inevitably got distracted by various items along the way. A giant jar of Nutella? In the cart. A set of high-end kitchen knives? In the cart. A year's supply of toilet paper? In the cart.
Charles dutifully followed, pushing the now significantly heavier cart with an air of resigned amusement. ”See?” he said to Lando and Carlos. ”This is why I grabbed an extra cart.”
Finally, you reached the aisle with the viral TikTok food product. There it was, Shin Ramyun, in all its spicy glory, stacked high and tempting.
”Here it is!” you said triumphantly, grabbing several boxes and adding them to the cart. ”Mission accomplished.”
”Can we leave now?” Charles asked, though he already knew the answer.
”Not yet,” you replied, a mischievous twinkle in your eye. ”We need to check out the outdoor section. Summer's coming, and we could use some new patio furniture.”
Charles groaned, but there was no real annoyance in it. He knew this was just how your trips to the store went. Besides, there was something endearing about your enthusiasm for finding deals and stocking up on... well, everything.
As you wandered through the outdoor section, Lando and Carlos tried out various patio chairs and loungers, providing a running commentary that kept everyone entertained. You found a particularly nice set that you insisted would look perfect in your backyard.
”Think of all the barbecues we could have,” you said, looking at Charles with pleading eyes.
Charles sighed, but there was a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. ”Fine, but this is the last thing. I mean it.”
”Promise,” you said, kissing him lightly while your friends fake gagged in the background.
You made your way to the checkout, carts overflowing with all manner of items. The staff recognized the boys and immediately started asking for photos and signatures as you guys waited for your turn.
That’s when Charles moved around and squeezed,”Gotta run to the toilet, I’ll be back in two?” He leaned down to whisper.
You shrugged and nodded your head, instead discussing Lando's new apartment with him. Failing to notice how Carlos was nowhere in sight either.
The cashier raised an eyebrow but didn't comment as she rang up the seemingly endless stream of products.
She was on the last few products when you heard Lando sigh under his breath and as you turned around, you saw Charles and Carlos carrying the box of the TV that you were eyeing.
Your own eyes widened as you jumped up and down and screamed,”No way, I love you!” Charles just snorted as skipped towards him.
He set the TV down and wrapped his arms around you, pulling you into a warm hug. ”I couldn't resist,” he admitted, his voice soft. ”Your excitement is contagious.”
You beamed up at him, feeling the love and warmth in his embrace. ”You always know how to make me feel loved.”
Charles kissed your forehead, his eyes twinkling. ”Cmon, babe. It’s like breathing for me now”
Lando and Carlos approached, carrying the last few bags and boxes. ”You two are adorable,” Lando teased, nudging Carlos. ”A bit nauseating, but adorable.”
As you left the store, pushing your heavily-laden carts towards the car, Lando and Carlos couldn't help but laugh.
”I owe you ten bucks,” Lando said, nudging Carlos.
Charles wrapping an arm around you. ”What do you think we can do with our old TV?” You smirked before looking over at Lando and Carlos who were loading the car.
”You know the way Lando bought a new apartmen—” Your boyfriend threw his head back and laughed before you could even finish.
”God, baby, I love you! Compulsive shopping and all.”
You smiled up at him, your eyes sparkling. ”And I love that you always bring an extra cart. Just in case.”
”So, what's the first thing we do with all this stuff?” Carlos asked, squeezing the last box into the trunk.
”Easy,” you said with a grin. ”We head home and have a fun game session with some Shin Ramyun and a movie on our new TV.”
Lando snickered. ”Sounds like the perfect end to a perfect shopping spree.”
”And if anyone asks,” Charles added with a wink, ”this was all part of the therapy. Sometimes, a little retail indulgence is just what the doctor ordered.”
”Retail therapy,” you said, snuggling into Charles as you drove off. ”It's cheaper than real therapy. Sometimes.”
Charles laughed, kissing the top of your head. ”And way more fun.”
(grid masterlist \ masterlist \ drop a request ) ©maxtermind // do not copy, rewrite or translate any of my work on any platforms.
#★ : my work !#f1#fanfic#formula 1#charles leclerc imagine#charles leclerc fanfic#charles leclerc smut#max f1#charles leclerc#charles leclerc fic#charles leclerc f1#charles leclerc x reader#f1 fanfic#f1 x reader#charles leclerc one shot#charles leclerc x y/n#charles leclerc x you#cl16 fanfic#cl16#cl16 x reader#cl16 imagine#cl16 fic#cl16 x you#cl16 x y/n#cl16 one shot#formula one imagine#cl16 smut#charles leclerc imagines#f1 fandom#formula one
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Good Graces
exes!steddie x female!reader
summary: coming back from chicago, the last people you expected to see were you exes but for them, the only thing they wondered when they saw you was, what's it gonna take to get back in your good graces?
warnings: eventual smut! 18+ angst, cursing, reader wants to kill steve, , swearing, unprotected sex, praise, oral (male receiving), jealousy..
a/n: i feel like this is going to be a two-parter most likely but i wanted to write this so bad because i love the song off of short n' sweet. i don't usually write for steddie but i was craving this concept. anyways, i hope you and enjoy and as always, i apologize if you hate this.
You dragged your luggage with a grunt as you passed through baggage claim over to the exit. A part of you was thoroughly regretting bringing two big suitcases but if you were spending two months of your summer in Hawkins, Indiana.
You certainly needed it.
Your eyes wandered all over the place to spot your childhood friend and cousin, Robin. She excitedly waved her hand side to side, an ecstatic grin that reached both of her dimples.
You could spot the balloons and welcome home sign from a mile away and that was enough to confirm that was Robin.
She excitedly waved her hand side to side, an ecstatic grin that reached both of her dimples. She started racing towards you before she almost tripped over the decorations in her hand.
You giggled as you raced over to her to prevent her from causing actual damage to herself, "Jeez Robin, still clumsy?" You asked, snorting.
She rolled her eyes, "This is hard to carry all by yourself!" She exasperated, causing her to pout.
"Aww poor baby," You mocked, pinching her cheek as she swatted your hand away.
Instead of saying anything else, she hugged you. You smiled sweetly, embracing her back, glad to see her and talk to her instead of the same static on the telephone.
"I missed you," You whispered, smile still on your face.
"Uh, I missed you more!" Robin almost yelled, pulling away from you, "You have to tell me everything about Chicago," She said, grabbing on of your suitcases for you.
You started telling Robin about everything and she kept replying with her gasps and 'oohs' when you told her all about acting school.
Even you had to admit that going to Chicago straight out of high school was not exactly a sentence jotted down on your bucket list.
But when you get accepted to one of the top acting schools in Chicago, you can't exactly decline. Of course, you were sad to leave everything behind.
Your friends, your family, even the shitty diner on 15th street but you knew that you would come back to visit, it was guaranteed.
You usually would've stayed with your parents but they decided to go on a three month trip to the Caribbean but they did make it clearly that they would miss your presence.
And you were also glad to be able to spend time with Robin since you hadn't been able to see her in so long.
But you couldn't say you didn't miss her nosy questions or constant rambling,
"You have to tell me about all your latest conquests!" She said, driving but peeking her head at you to encourage you to answer.
You rolled your eyes, "I'm still perplexed that you can even drive, is it even legal for you to drive?" You snickered, changing the subject.
She scoffed, "Okay first of all, I am an amazing driver and second, you aren't changing the subject from the tragic discussion of your love life,"
You gasped offended, "My love life is not tragic!" You folded your arms, "And I just don't feel the need for something like that right now,"
Robin exasperated, "All you have told me about your love life is two exes who you literally call 'fuckface' and 'dickhead' which is not a confirmation of a successful love life," Robin ranted, "And you still have yet to tell me who these mystery men are!"
"They aren't important," You mumbled, nuzzling into the cold window.
Robin sighed, "You shouldn't let whoever those assholes were determine your love life, Y/N."
Robin wasn't usually serious with you but you knew that it did make her sad to see you never truly opening your heart because of two men that had screwed you over.
You shrugged as Robin looked at you, "But I'll still get you Benny's,"
You sat up in excitement, "Are you serious?" You asked, grinning ear to ear.
"Ugh yes, we can even eat the greasy burger in the car like old times," Robin said with a smile as you cheered.
By the time you and Robin had gotten your burgers, you were asking her about her life and what she had been up to as you bit into your greasy cheeseburger.
Robin shoved a few fries in her mouth before talking, "What do you wanna know?" She asked, mouthful.
You swallowed before answering, "Hmm... what are they like? But no names!"
Robin snorted, "Are you really still serious about the 'no name policy'?"
The 'no name policy' came from your acting school where you don't let someone introduce you to someone privately until you actually see them and you only learn their name when you see them.
And Robin also couldn't tell her friends who you were because that would be missing the entire point.
Robin thought it was stupid but you thought it was productive.
"Um yes!" You said loudly, "It's actually incredibly helpful when you think about it."
Robin chuckled, "What if you already know them?"
"Then I'll be reintroduced," You said, smugly.
"Alright," Robin said, "Well one of them is an absolute dingus to the maximum," You giggled as she went on, "But he is pretty funny and kind but clumsy when you meet him, I think you would like him,"
"He seems fun," You replied before Robin moved on.
"Then there's the other one, he's an absolute pothead and extremely eccentric but when you look past that, he's a pretty nice guy and actually really fun to be around, I think you would like him too." Robin said, eating the last bite of her burger.
"That's cool," You smiled.
Robin continued to go on about the different kids there and how the three adults including her were their babysitters which you thought was hilarious.
As you finished up your burger and fries, you threw the trash out before you and Robin were driving towards her house.
"Oh and also, we are going to one of their houses tonight," She said as she checked her watch, "Or as soon as you put your bags down because we are late!" She yelped, urgently parking.
You laughed as you both grabbed your luggage from the trunk, making your way inside the house and to her room. You barely had time to situate yourself before Robin was rushing you because of her own late actions.
By the time you could blink, you were both already inside the car, making it towards her friends house.
"Also," She cleared her throat, "He's kind of loaded so don't make a big deal out of it,"
"How rich are we talking?" You joked with a sly smile.
"Again, he's a dingus with no charm," Robin said, "You will forget he's rich extremely fast,"
You laughed, looking outside despite it being dark. A part of you really missed Hawkins considering you grew up there and you heavily missed the late night car drives that you took.
Another part of you though was scared that you might run into two individuals during your time back home but you were pretty sure Robin wouldn't ever even be in their social circle, let alone her area.
Robin pulled into a house and you couldn't really make out it's features but you could swear that you recognized the street.
Robin unbuckled her seatbelt as she spoke, "We've arrived," She said hauntingly as you giggled.
You both exited the car as you heard laughing and yelling on the inside which cause Robin to bang on the door with a heavy knock, almost as if she was the police.
You hissed at the knock as she shrugged before the door opened and the last person you had expected to see opened the door,
"Robin, I literally said the time to be here was seven, not eight!" He sighed, looking at her before locking eyes with you.
Steve fucking Harrington.
He still looked the exact same, brown curly strands still standing on his head, looking effortlessly perfect. His muscles flexing as he held open the door and same brown doe-eyed eyes that looked at you with a certain glint.
Not even his outfits had changed, same jeans and striped polo shirt, you wanted to choke him.
Or fuck him, it was hard to decide.
"Okay well, I had to pick my cousin up from the airport and I got sidetracked!" She whined, speaking to Steve but his eyes were locked onto yours, "And speaking of my cousin, this is Y/N." Robin introduced.
Silence sat there for a few more seconds that felt like minutes as you and Steve looked each other. He looked uneasy but you knew your face was showing a disgruntled look as Robin looked at the both of you.
He coughed, snapping out of it, "Uh hi,"
You stood there with the same look on her face as Robin looked like a lightbulb popped on top of her head.
Her mouth made an 'o' shape, "Do you guys know each other?"
"This is one of the exes," You said as you clicked your teeth and Robin looked as if she found out something outrageous.
"Wait which one? The one who broke up with you after taking your virginity and started dating another girl or the one you caught sleeping with another girl after his concert," Robin asked.
"Robin!" You squealed, looking at her as if you wanted to choke her.
"I'm curious!" She replied as Steve continued looking at the both of you with the same wide-eyed expression.
You waved her off before you looked back at Steve, "Whatever, I don't give a shit anymore," You said, shoving his shoulder as you entered the house you had seen a multitude of times before.
You and Steve Harrington's relationship was not something to call home about. You had dated him before he was Steve 'The King' Harrington. He was so sweet for the first part of your relationship, when it was the beginning of school and clique's weren't sorted.
This was until Carol and Tommy had recruited him and their first proclamation was that he dumped you if he ever wanted to be anything in Hawkins High.
So you met up with Steve that night and you both said that you had things to talk about. After some back and forth, he let you go first and you told him you were finally ready to give up your virginity.
And let's just say, instead of breaking up with you there and then, he decided to do the most absolute dickhead thing and take it anyway. After, you were happy and it was a great first time, Steve was kind and compassionate.
He drove you home and then your life hit a certain darkness when you went to school the next day. Instead of seeing your boyfriend immediately, Carol and Tommy approached you in the parking and they told you that Steve had broken up with you and found something better.
And then in between periods, you saw him and a girl named Susie Blickens extremely close to each other as she twirled her hair and he rested his hand above her head on the locker.
Not only did you wanna puke but you were fucking furious. Of course, you were sad, there wasn't counting how many times you had cried over him but eventually, all of it turned to anger.
He would walk past you as if nothing happened and that was when you swore that you would always hate his guts till the day you die.
Hence, why he looks like a dear in headlights seeing you.
As you entered the living room, you were greeted by all of the teenagers on the couch, causing absolute chaos.
A kid named Dustin introduced himself to you first, offering a handshake which made you laugh before he continued arguing with his friend.
The rest of them just smiled at you but you figured you would learn their names throughout the night.
You sat in the empty arm chair facing away from the front door and Steve in general. You could hear Robin and Steve whisper arguing but it did not intrigue you.
"So you go to school in Chicago?" A girl named Max asked you as you politely smiled.
"Yeah," You responded.
"And how is it?" A girl named El followed up.
"It's pretty fun, the windy city is exactly what you think it would be." You answered.
"Did you meet any cute boys?" Max asked as a boy you presumed was her boyfriend yelped a 'hey!'
You both giggled, "They are pretty okay but they aren't as interesting as you would think."
The two girls you were talking to giggled as they began whispering as you clapped your hands in your lap, looking around Steve's house.
Nothing had changed much but you were happy to see more pictures added to the walls. You knew Steve didn't have the best relationship with his parents but in a way, his house looked more homely.
Maybe he did that himself.
You watched the kids bicker a few minutes more as you watched the dynamics between them all. You were actually having a semi good time for the most part and were pretty sure the night couldn't get worse.
You felt a hand cup the top of the arm rest before speaking, "Wow, you let the pretty girl steal my seat," The voice you recognized all too well spoke.
Oh fuck no.
You looked behind you to see Eddie Munson who had the same expression that Steve did, trying his best to find the words to say to you.
"Are you fucking kidding me?" You asked as the kids snapped their neck at your foul language.
Eddie gulped, "Y/N,"
You were pretty sure a vein was popping from your forehead and by the way Eddie was looking at you, it was almost as if your hair was on fire.
"Is Robin friends with every asshole in Hawkins?" You meant to ask in your head but said it instead out loud.
"Maybe," Eddie sent an awkward laugh which only made you angrier, "Listen, I know we didn't end on the best of-" He started.
You stopped him immediately, "Are you seriously about to say the best of terms? You fucking cheated on me!" You yelled as Eddie hissed in pain, as if you were touching him with a hot iron.
The kids gasped, full attention on you and Eddie but there was not a bone in your body that cared.
"Y/N, I swear I've changed and I tried apologizing many times," He tried his best to mediate but it was to no avail.
"I meant what I said the day you did it, you can go fuck yourself and I will hate you till the I die," You spat, pushing past him, moving towards Robin.
With Eddie, you didn't need that many words to explain the situation. He was different from Steve and the second boy that you genuinely liked. He made you laugh and gave you free pot which was both a great deal.
And you had to admit that he gave the best head to ever exist.
But when you went to one of his concerts for his band, Corroded Coffin, you went backstage to surprise him and caught a blonde giving him head.
He almost had the same look he had when he just saw you.
But let's just say it didn't end the best when you grabbed the blonde haired girl by her hair and started hitting Eddie with the fan you were using to cool yourself down.
It took a while for Gareth to get you off of Eddie but you eventually just walked away and never spoke to Eddie again despite his desperate tries over the phone and at your house.
And that was that.
Steve was next to Robin but she swatted him away as she sees you approaching, "How did you manage to become friends with the two most heinous men in Hawkins?" You asked, genuinely pissed.
Robin looked lost for words, "I mean okay, I get that maybe you would've dated one but I didn't expect for you to date both Steve Harrington and Eddie Munson!" She rambled, "I can't believe those are the faces behind fuckface and dickhead,"
"It's not your fault," You groaned, "I'm just shocked and choosing whether to kill them or just heavily injure them." Your jaw moved to the side as you glanced behind them as they were both peering at you, looking away once you saw them, trying to play it off.
"Listen, I know they are absolute buttheads but I swear they've changed and I won't try to convince you but I'm begging you to give them a chance," Robin implored.
You sighed, not wanting to cause a rift between Robin and her friends even if you hated them more than anything in the world.
"Okay," Is all you said as Robin let out a breath.
"Okay," She repeated.
She led you both to the couch as you sat down next to her on the big couch with Eddie peering at you in his armchair and Steve running his hand through his hair aggressively as he sat next to Robin.
Even the kids could feel the tension in the room. Robin broke the silence with a laugh before speaking, "Okay! How about we play Monopoly?" She asked as everyone agreed in little 'yeahs' and 'sures.'
You were surprised Eddie didn't argue for D & D.
Mike grabbed the game, laying it in on the coffee table. The kids yelled for which little figurines they wanted but Steve quickly snatched the dog before looking at you.
He reached over Robin to hand it to you as you looked at him with a hateful expression, "Uh, I just remember it being your favorite to play with." He muttered.
A part of you wanted to scoff and grab another figurine but he had been right, it was your favorite.
Sadly, it only brought you back the the memories of when you and Steve dated.
"I still don't understand why you like playing this game considering I always school you," You cockily said as Steve mockingly laughed.
His face went close to yours, "We always know I win," He said, giving you a light peck before you could respond.
You smiled, "Alright Harrington, let's test your bluff,"
He set the game down on the table as he began setting up the board and the money.
You reached to grab your dog figurine before he snatched it from you within seconds, causing you to frown.
"But if I take your good luck charm, maybe I could win," He snickered as you rolled your eyes.
"In your dreams," You said, acting like you didn't care.
Steve watched you with a grin for a few seconds before approaching you, slipping the dog into your grip.
You smiled sweetly as Harrington grabbed your waist, "I'll always let you have the dog if it means I get to see you happy,"
You scrunched your nose, "You are the corniest person I know,"
"You know you love it," He whispered, kissing you again,
You hesitated, taking the miniature sized dog, not daring to say anything to him. Steve watched to see if you would smile but your facial reaction didn't change.
He frowned as Eddie began speaking, "Okay, let's do this!"
The kids immediately started to somehow play Monopoly aggressive which only earned a laugh from you. What made you laugh even harder was seeing how passionate Eddie, Steve, and Robin were about the game.
A little part of you had missed being around all of them in their own separate way.
Chicago was fun but it didn't have the same home feeling that you got when you were back at Hawkins.
After a couple rounds and your money only slipping, you excused yourself to get a soda.
"Do you need help finding anything?" Steve asked, already ready to get up from his seat.
"I'm sure I'll be fine," You said quickly, moving towards the kitchen.
Steve sunk into his seat as you began reaching to grab a cup from the cupboard above you. Before you could go on your tippy toes, a taller hand grabbed it for you as you sighed.
You turned around to see Eddie only inches away from you as he placed the glass down next to you.
You only glared at him as he smirked, eyeing you up and down which only earned a scoff from you.
Not that you would ever say this out loud, Eddie still never hesitated to make you nervous. From his tattoos to leather jacket and the way he would eye you, it made you feel like a teen girl again.
He was still the bad boy and as much as you wanted to act unbothered, it still turned you on.
Silence passed between the both of you for several seconds, trying to see who would break first.
"Can you not?" You asked, crossing your arms.
"She speaks!" He over-dramatically yells!
"You are a joke," You said, trying to move past him as he only caged you in.
He leaned down to whisper in your ear, "You used to like it,"
A shiver crept down your spine as you tried to keep your composure.
"You are not gonna flirt your way into getting me to forget that you cheated on me!" You argued as Eddie swirled his tongue in his mouth, looking up with a hand still leaning on the cupboard.
"How many times do I have to apologize?" He asked, looking at you.
"Instead of apologizing, I can suggest you trying to go fuck yourself," You spat, shoving him but he still kept his body in the same place.
"I just don't do it like you," He pouted which only caused red, hot anger to fill you.
You slapped him which only caused a smile from Eddie as he moved closer to your face, a hand moving to your waist.
"There she is," He grinned against your ear as you looked at Eddie, a part of you wanting to close the gap.
Suddenly, you heard a cough from behind Eddie as you looked over to see Steve. He looked flustered, watching the sight of you and Eddie.
You finally pushed Eddie hard out of the way, moving past Steve before exiting as you rushed over to Robin, "Can we leave now?" You asked, a begging look in your eyes.
"Yeah, why?" She asked, looking at you but you only pleaded with your eyes,
"Okay, let me just tell Steve." She said, handing you her keys.
You quickly said your goodbye's to the teens as you exited outside of the door before Eddie or Steve could catch up to you. You went inside the passenger side of the car as you wanted to scream.
The hatred you felt for Steve and Eddie was consuming but a heavier force was the effect they still had on you.
Steve was kind and compassionate, showing you the golden side of love which you always showered in.
And then there's Eddie who's rough and taunting, showing you the toxic side which never failed to make you falter within seconds.
Instead of only having one to resist, both only made you more turned on.
And if you were feeling this now,
Who knows how the rest of the summer will go?
#steddie x reader angst#steddie x fem!reader#steddie x reader fluff#steddie x reader#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson#eddie munson fanfic#eddie stranger things#eddie munson x female reader#eddie munson request#eddie munson angst#eddie munson angst x reader#eddie munson fluff x reader#steve harrington fluff#steve stranger things#steve harrington x reader angst#steve harrington x reader#steve harrington requests#singmyaubade#steve harrington#stranger things#eddie munson x steve harrington#eddie munson x afab reader#steve harrington x afab!reader#steve harrington x fem!reader#steddie blurb#steddie#steddie x you#steddie x y/n#daddy eddie
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There's a plentiful supply of nature and ecology writers that criticize "Anthropocentrism" and tell readers that we shouldn't consider ourselves more important than other life forms, and then they write things that are like "We evolved to live in Nature in a Natural environment...Long ago humans lived as hunter-gatherers instead of farming and domesticating animals...But when civilization was created, man unnaturally subjugated and modified plants and animals...Bringing them under human control for his own benefit...Man replaces natural ecosystems with artificially created "post-natural" environments...Now humans live in an unnatural environment that is separated from Nature...and i'm like buddy. do you even hear yourself
Since I have access to a bigger library now, I've explored "deep ecology" and "green anarchism" and "Biocentrism" a bit more and what i've seen is still kinda silly. The writers have very thoughtful theory and philosophy of diverse subjects relating to morality, society, power, and liberation, but...they just don't know very much about Nature.
I mean several things by that: first, they're not clear on the boring, practical details of things like food systems and the way construction alters ecosystems, second, they don't try to clearly define what "nature" is, and third, they act like "nature" has a clear definition anyway.
Now nature is pretty much undefinable anyway, a couple possible definitions are "all things that exist, have existed, or are possible in the universe" and "the thing that a forest has that a parking lot doesn't." You can say "biodiversity," but every space has biodiversity, and it's not clear how much biodiversity a space is "supposed" to have, we're just going on vibes. And the vibes are right, in a way; I visited an old-growth forest and it was DIFFERENT than any place i'd ever been in a way that is hard to describe. A flourishing, biodiverse ecosystem is different than a parking lot, a lawn, a monoculture field of corn. They say it's good for your health to be "in nature." What does that mean? At what point does a place become "nature?" How many trees does it have to have?
Something that is so painful to me is when people write "Human activities" as a cause of biodiversity loss. This is an act of cowardice. WHICH human activities? Name them.
A lot of nature and ecology writings treat humans like they have an anti-biodiversity force field that emanates from them. They write like lands on Earth are each contested between two inversely proportional forces, "Nature" and "Humans."
Without any more information, this is ethereal bullshit on par with crystals having energies. I am totally perplexed at the lack of curiosity about the specific causes and details of "human impacts." The division of habitats by so many roads and relentless speeding of cars with no way for wildlife to cross...the dumping of massive amounts of poison into soils and water...the wounding and disturbance of topsoil...these are the "human activities," but we can imagine a world without such destruction, and we can create that world.
Too many essays and papers talking about Nature non-specifically, an Idea of Nature, a Concept that everyone just intuitively knows. Nature is...you know...wildness! and trees! and...well, you know, NATURE!
And we do know! When we step out into the parking lot surrounded by low, squarish buildings and blaring signs and the stink of car exhaust, we know that something is very wrong with this place! Even we find these horrible un-places harsh and unwelcoming.
But it is very hard to imagine something different, because the other type of place, the place that is beautiful and soothes the spirit and is full of life, is by definition the place where humans only go to visit, the complete opposite and inverse of a place where humans work and live! Wherever humans live, shop, eat, fulfill their daily needs, that place is Not Nature.
The huge mistake, is that we believe that it is necessary to have places that are Not Nature. We believe that for humans to exist, areas must be set aside where the very concept of Nature is utterly obliterated.
From this imaginary and dismal point of view, we have to carefully confine our own lives to places that are utterly poisoned, sterilized, made into a hostile wasteland, and leave all the rest of the living biosphere to itself in pristine preserves.
And in this imaginary and dismal point of view, the one that divides Earth into Nature and Humans, it is okay to poison and to sterilize and to destroy, because humans must live SOMEWHERE, therefore Nature must be utterly excluded from at least SOME of Earth.
BUT...WHAT IF EVERYWHERE IS NATURE? What if the dandelions in the cracks of the pavement, the lichens growing on the park bench, the wildflowers on the side of the road, the sparrows in the parking lot—what if they are all Nature just as much as anything else? What if they too are sacred? What if it is our responsibility to see the connectedness of all life and to care for all ecosystems, however broken and hurt they may be?
What if Nature is not distant and abstract, untouched in some pristine place, but always reaching out, digging into the crumbled concrete and gravel and compacted ground, clawing to return to us and bring us back home?
It does not take away from the value of the old-growth forest or the unplowed prairie if we open our eyes and see even the scraggliest patch of overgrown weeds for the powerful manifestation of Nature it truly is.
Nature is not a place or a thing. Nature is the Movement, the Endless Happening, constantly alive throughout all life, the way of all things being family, the way of all things taking care of each other, the way of all life being constantly transformed through one another. You breathe the breath of the trees of your home, you drink the water of the streams of your home, you eat the sunlight that falls on your home, grown in the soil where all things go to be transformed through death into a new form of life, fed by the mycorrhizal network, pollinated by the bees, wasps, flies, and moths, nourished by the bone, blood and manure of beasts, and ultimately the fertile river valleys where agriculture first began, were replenished by the rich silt that washed down the river, which came from the forests in the mountains that shed their leaves to make a feast for a million decomposing critters, which is how the rich soil is made.
In this way they all take care of you, and in return you are asked to Live—to take care of them in return, to live as part of the great family of everything alive, to live, to live
What are human activities...? Deforestation? Mining? Spraying pesticides? Building housing developments? But is that all? Are we inherently a "bad" and "destructive" species, or is our ability to acquire and pass down knowledge, use tools and novel behaviors, alter our surroundings, shape ecosystems, adapt our lifestyles almost infinitely, and persist in almost any environment, simply incredibly powerful for good or for evil?
First of all, what better way to demonstrate a contrast to anthropocentrism...than to compare the impact of humans alone to the impact of an ENTIRE KINGDOM OF LIFE, the fungi????? Of course all of Fungi are more important than one single species??? Wtf?!?!?
But also, we should not convince ourselves of our own insignificance and worthlessness to the biosphere, because in the same way that individual self-loathing can be a way to avoid the hard work of loving oneself and advocating for the love one deserves, collective self-loathing as a species is a way of avoiding the responsibility we have to other life forms.
How can this author not think of a single role Humans play in the ecosystem?? What species plants trees, saves seeds, documents rare plants, rescues injured animals and heals them, raises orphaned chicks, manages controlled burns, digs ponds, thoughtfully harvests in anticipation of future seasons, mercifully culls in understanding of suffering that cannot be fixed? What species writes a new chapter in the genome of the American Chestnut so it can be saved from extinction? What species mends the broken kakapo egg with sticky tape? What species addresses their own habitat with that fondest name of Home?
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Transformers reacting to Nipple piercings
Characters: Mtmte Rodimus, ROFB Mirage, TFP Knockout
Warnings: slight nsfw, oral fixation, nipple piercings, hinted smut, piercing care.
If people enjoy this series I might make some others.
Word count 3K
Request and ask open, read pinned post
Masterlist
Rodimus masterlist
Knockout Masterlist
Mirage Masterlist
_______________
Rodimus
They couldn't sit still. The fabric of their shirt continued to rub against their skin in an unpleasant manner, ignoring it was the only option at that moment. They sat on Rodimus' desk helping him with reports. "How's your report going Rodimus?" They ask while trying to get in a more comfortable position.
Rodimus sighed in frustration as he reviewed the long list of maintenance reports in need of sign-off. "Not great," he replied. "There always seems to be more work to do than cycles in a solar cycle. I don't know how Megatron keeps up with it all. or how Ultra Magnus can write so much" He offers a rueful smile. "Thanks for helping me plough through these. It's much more bearable with help and company."
Taking note of the fidgeting, Rodimus asked gently, "Is your plating bothering you? I wish we had better abrasives to smooth the rough spots. Being cooped up inside the Lost Light so much can't be easy on your systems." His optics shone with compassion for his human friend's discomfort.
"It's called a shirt Rods, humans wear them kinda like how you bots have plating over your body, And no the fabric is just irritating my skin today, keeps catching on my piercings" they mumble the last part to themself.
A curious look came over Rodimus's face. "Piercings? What in the Pits are those?" he asked.
"They are little decorative pieces of metal we have put through our skin. Some we wear in our ears, nose, lips, eyebrows, it's a little bit of a painful process but they are pretty" they explained.
Rodimus nodded thoughtfully at further explanation on human piercings. "I can see the appeal of adornments, even if the application sounds rather narely," he said. Furrowing his optics, Rodimus peered more closely at their frame. "Hmm, if they're meant to be visible decorations, then why can't I see any of you now?" he wondered aloud. "Are they retractable like transformation seams? Or is human flesh somehow capable of covering them up? Your species never ceases to perplex me with your biological quirks and tricks."
They laugh loudly before wincing slightly. "They aren't always on display, but no we can't retract them but we can take them out. Mine are just under the shirt is all. And feel rather tender at the moment"
"So they come out, huh?" Rodimus responded thoughtfully. Curiosity piqued, he asked, "Do you have them on you now under the shirt? Can I see? Do they have lights or are they just metal?."
He tilted his head inquisitively. "Fleshly adornments are such an alien concept to me." Pausing, Rodimus added excitedly.
With a small shake of their head in amusement at Rodimus' curiosity they speak again. "Sure I'll let you have a look." They are quick to discard their shirt sitting there so Rodimus can look. Each nipple has a bar though it with a little ball at each end. Rodimus is overly eager to touch and inspect.
Careful with his touches, Rodimus leaned in slowly for a closer look. "Fascinating," he murmured, optics shining with wonder at the novel modifications. Up close, he was even more intrigued by the symmetrical placements and elegant simplicity of the adornments. Softly, as if handling something incredibly fragile, Rodimus raised a finger and ghosted it above one glistening bar, mesmerised by the contrast of cool metal against warm flesh.
Servo hovering, as always mindful of organic delicacy. Rodimus barely grazed the ball end with his fingertip, amazed by its give underneath hard plating. Cybertronian armour was rigid and unyielding; sensitive inner workings always shielded. He had much to learn about life beyond his kind.
a soft gasp leaves their lips as Rodimus' digit graze against their chest. The piercings themselves were still rather tender, but the soft touch of cold metal against them left goose bumps across skin, they relaxed into the touch. Both their works are forgotten.
Rodimus noted the soft intake of air and sensations rendering their plating sensitive. "My apologies, I didn't mean to make it hurt," he said gently. When they relaxed into his feather-light touch, seemingly soothed rather than aggravated, Rodimus felt his curiosity heightening. The smooth textures and varied temperatures called out to his sensor net to further discern material properties through all means available.
Leaning closer still, Rodimus let his optics dim and his glossa slowly extended, barely brushing one adornment in a tactile sampling. Cool and slick, it traced intricate shapes with an elegance beyond his plated appendages alone.
eyes shoot open wide as they feel the cool touch of Rodimus glossa against the flushed skin, biting back a moan at the pleasant sensation. "Having fun?" They asked in a teasing tone, not stopping the bot from exploring, enjoying the feeling of Rodimus' glossa.
"Frag, sorry, curiosity tends to get the better of me," Rodimus replied lightly, though his field betrayed growing enthusiasm.
He held their gaze, optics half-shuttered, as his glossa traced delicate circles, learning every contour. Something in the way pleased noises were stifled stirred Rodimus's core, spurring his exploration ever onward in a dance of discovery.
Soft ex-vents ghosted warmly over newly sensitised skin, it prickles with more goosebumps as the air brushes the areas he had run his glossa across. eliciting subtle tremors that Rodimus felt to his struts.
They gasp and moan softly as Rodimus softly sucks on the tender skin. "Fuck Rodimus feels good" The young human arches into the touch as Rodimus' other servo slowly teases the other nipple.
Tracing lower, Rodimus' glossa circled delicately, tasting the sweet warmth of their skin through every sensor. His free servo rolled the other nub skillfully, marvelling at how small fluctuations elicited outsized effects.
Ventilation hitched as strange new feelings rose in Rodimus's spark. He focused on their pleasure, marvelling at them. slowly they pull Rodimus back, breathing slightly heavy from the experience. "I think that's enough exploring for one day Roddy, we still have reports to finish"
Rodimus loathes having to release the soft nipple from his intake, it makes Rodimus Rodimus rumbled apologetically as duty calls them back to boring reports. Yet parting from sweet flesh proved unexpectedly difficult after such revelation of how it tasted, It's addictive.
"Just a moment more," he pleaded between languid sucks, unable to relinquish the heady sensations. Never had something like this tempted him so much.
Mirage
Mirage had caught a glimpse of the piercings a few times. Mainly when he had been intimate with his lover, the small metal bars thought their nipples had never escaped his processor, But as they sat together a question lingers on mirages mind. What were they?
"Raj can you grab me a tarp, gonna need it when I do this oil change on This car" they call out.
Mirage processes the request, grabs one of the tarps from the storage area and brings it over to where his friend is working on the vehicle. He sets it down nearby so it's ready when needed.
"Here is the tarp. So..." he thinks back to the memory files of their intimate moments together "I have been curious about those things in your chest. On your nipples specifically. What made you decide to get those? Just something you found aesthetically pleasing? Or is there another reason behind it?"
"My piercings?, I got them as a dare a while back, hurt like a bitch getting them done but I don't really mind them now, until they get stuck on things then they burn, mainly keep them in because I like them" they explain as they move around getting set up to do the oil filter change. Bucket set up under the car.
Mirage listens to the explanation with interest, tilting his head slightly as he processes the words. A playful smirk spreads across his faceplates as his friend mentions the piercings occasionally getting stuck on things.
"Is that so? Well I can understand the appeal of a dare, though personally I think I'm too clever to ever get myself into such a predicament." He chuckles cockily, exuding an air of lighthearted smugness.
"As for liking how they look, I have to agree they do add a certain... aesthetic flair" His optics briefly glance over their body in a subtle once-over before meeting their gaze again with a grin.
"Just be sure not to let those piercings of yours get snagged on any wiring or plating during that oil change. Wouldn't want anything... sticking unexpectedly." He waggles his optical ridges suggestively.
"Let me know if you need an extra set of hands though. Wouldn't want an... accident to occur down there." Mirage offers his assistance in a playfully teasing tone, enjoying the back-and-forth banter as usual.
"Raj! Please, I'm working here! Perv" They call out swatting the bots hand away. They focus in on the car they are under. "Can you pass me the 10mm socket wrench" the call out while setting up their small touch to see.
Mirage chuckles good-naturedly at getting swatted away. "Ah, you know you love it when I tease," he says lightheartedly.
Making an exaggerated show of pretending to pout with downturned optical ridges and a small smirk, Mirage turns towards the tool cart. "Alright alright, no more distractions while you work."
He rummages around briefly before producing the requested 10mm socket wrench. Mirage saunters back over and holds it down for his friend, lover? to take it easily.
Settling back against the wall again, Mirage watches them get to work on the vehicle, angling his helm thoughtfully. "You know, you perform repairs so dexterously." He teases
They work quickly with undoing the oil cap to drain it. But when they lose grip on the small screw they curse. Oil spilling out quicker than expected. "Son of a bitch!" They hiss. Moving quickly after getting oil spilt over them. It makes mirage chuckle in amusement.
Mirage can't help but chuckle in mild amusement as he watches the spat of unintentional spillage. "Well well, looks like someone needs to tighten their grip," he quips lightheartedly, unable to resist the playful jab.
They roll out from under the car, oil covering them, they grumble trying to get the shocked shirt off before more of it could get on their skin or in their hair. And there they are on display again, those nipple piercings mirage liked so much, oil and grease lingering on the skin
Mirage's attention is immediately drawn to the piercings on display as his friend struggles to remove their shirt. His engine emits a subtle purr at the tantalising sight, optics roving appreciatively over the grease-stained form before him.
"Well well, what have we here?" he speaks in a low, smug tone, cocky attitude radiating off him in waves. "It seems our little spill has left quite the...messy situation."
His gaze subtly lingers on the piercings, glistening with oil, before trailing back up slowly to meet thier eyes. A grin plays across his faceplates, brimming with self-assured confidence.
"Need a hand cleaning all that grim off? I'd be happy to...lend a digit or two. And perhaps a glossa too, if you'd like - can't have precious jewellery like that staying filthy now, can we?"
He steps closer, fuel pump thrumming in approval at the enticing view. Mirage oozes smug charm, revelling in the alluring scenario before him. "What do you say...care for some assistance?"
"God you're a nuisance " the huff, but let mirage continue with his antics. Mirage lets out a playful chuckle at his friend's exasperated remark.
"A nuisance, am I? You wound me so." He clasps a hand dramatically over his spark, optics swirling with mirthful mischief.
"But you haven't said no yet..." Mirage points out, emboldened by the lack of outright refusal.
Stepping closer still so they're mere inches apart, he levels his friend with a gaze of smouldering intent, laughter fading to a flirtatious smirk.
"Come now, we both know you enjoy my particular brand of...nuisance. And I do so want to help clean you up properly." His field pulses with suggestive magnetism as nimble digits reach out to gently brush over their exposed skin in a teasing caress.
"Unless...you'd really rather I leave you to your grimy predicament?" Mirage whispers huskily.
"Get me a towel, Raj, then I'll think about it," they state, standing there with a smile as they wait for him to grab a towel.
"As you wish." Mirage's engine rumbles with delighted intrigue as he accepts the challenge.
Whirling on his heelstrut with a flourish, Mirage makes his way towards the storage closet at a leisurely stroll. Rummaging briefly, he selects one of the largest, grease towels.
Returning to his still-grease-laden friend, Mirage holds out the towel with an elegant flourish and a sly smirk. "Well? Have I earned the privilege of assisting further?" he inquires softly,
"Say the word, and I'll gladly help..."
"Trying to get in my pants again?" They ask teasingly before leaning back into the bot's touch, letting mirage help clean up the mess. Mirage chuckles low in his throat at the playful accusation, a hint of arousal mixing in with their humour.
"Guilty as charged." He flashes a roguish grin, azure optics dancing with mischief and desire.
"Can you blame me, though?" Holding their teasing gaze, Mirage leans in to press a kiss to their cheek, his cooling ex-vents puffing against plating still warm from work. "How could I resist such beauty, even coated in oil?"
Knockout
Knockout smirked as he leaned against the medical table, crossing his arms over his chassis. "Well, well, well, if it isn't my favourite lovely little human in distress," he purred, his voice dripping with charm. " I'd ask what trouble you have gotten yourself into, but where's the fun in that? I'd much rather tease you a bit first."
He sauntered closer, his optics lingering "Now, how did this happen, darling? Neglecting proper care for these delicate human chest adornments? It's a shame, I happen to rather enjoy your little jewellery pieces" he chuckled, his tone laced with amusement.
They don't look impressed, looking away when knockout asks how it happened. "Went out on a mission ended up in mud and now they hurt '' they hiss under their breath. "Knockout please I just need some help. I'm not embarrassing myself by going to ask ratchet for help!" They hissed.
Knockout raised an optic ridge, slightly taken aback by the lack of enthusiasm from the human. He couldn't resist a chuckle at their stubbornness. "Oh, darling, you wound me," he replied, feigning a hurt expression. "But fear not, for I am here to help. No need to embarrass yourself."
They continue sitting there uncomfortably while knockout moves around grabbing what he needed. Knockout sets up a dish of salty water with a cloth. His optics flickered with focus as he set up the necessary supplies, preparing to tend to the infected piercings. He approached the human with a suave yet professional air, gesturing for them to remove their shirt so he could properly examine and treat the area.
"Now, now, don't be shy," he said smoothly, his voice laced with a hint of playfulness. "We've got to get a good look at those piercings if we want to fix them up, don't we?"
As the human complied, Knockout dipped the cloth into the dish of salty water, ensuring it was properly soaked. With a gentle touch, he began to clean the infected piercings, his movements precise and careful. "Try to relax," he advised with a soft, soothing tone. "I know it stings a bit, but trust me, you'll feel much better once we've taken care of this."
He continued to work, his optics focused on the task at hand, all the while maintaining a charming demeanour. Knockout couldn't help but let a small smile play on his lips as he worked his medic magic, determined to alleviate the human's discomfort and make them forget their initial reservations about seeking his help.
They sit there quietly avoiding knockouts gaze, as the medic continues cleaning the inflamed piercings. Knockout couldn't help but notice the human's avoidance of his gaze, their quietness speaking volumes. He continued to clean the inflamed piercings with utmost care, his touch gentle and precise. As he worked, he couldn't resist a small sigh, his usual charm momentarily fading.
"Look, I know I can come across a bit... overwhelming," he admitted, his voice softening. "But I want you to know that I genuinely care about your well-being. I may be a Decepticon, but that doesn't mean I can't be a good medic, and primus knows im not letting an infection get you my dear"
With a final, gentle touch, Knockout finished cleaning the piercings and set aside the cloth. He reached for the disinfectant and carefully applied it to the affected area, his movements slow and deliberate.
"Just a little more, and then we'll be done," he assured, his voice filled with sincerity. "You'll be feeling better in no time, I promise."
"Thanks and please don't tell everyone, don't need the whole base knowing about this" they state while motioning to the piercings.
Knockout flashed a charming smile as he applied the cream to alleviate the inflammation around the piercings. "Your secret is safe with me, my dear," he assured, his voice filled with sincerity. "As much as I enjoy a bit of gossip, I understand the importance of privacy, especially when it comes to matters like these."
He leaned in closer, his optics gleaming mischievously. "But remember, secrets have their price," he teased playfully. "Perhaps a dance or a playful conversation in the future can serve as payment for my discretion."
Straightening up, Knockout took a step back, admiring his handiwork. "There you go, all taken care of," he said, his tone gentle. "Just remember to keep an eye on them and follow the aftercare instructions I've given you. If there are any issues or if they don't improve, don't hesitate to come see me."
"I will thank you again, and I might give you that dance once they heal, but don't expect anything" they reply while pulling on their shirt again.
Knockout chuckled, his optics gleaming with amusement. "Oh, I wouldn't dream of expecting anything more than a dance, my dear," he replied with a sly smirk. "But who knows? Sometimes, unexpected connections can be quite delightful."
He watched as they pulled on their shirts, "When those piercings have fully healed, you know where to find me," he said, his voice filled with a mix of charm and sincerity. "I'd be more than happy to share a dance with you, no strings attached."
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