#this came to me a little bit ago and I tried to get it written down as quickly as possible

[random0lover]

Okay so I’m working on the fluff ending for this fic and I’m trying to decide on what I want to do. I kinda had an idea involving Johnny (soap).

This part would be set some time in the future maybe like 5 or six years and you had all retired from the task force? You opened your coffee shop and Simon opened his pub and Johnny ended becoming part of it to. Anyways Johnny had a daughter with some chic that took off and she’s about 4 years old now and you and Simon have been helping him take care of her this whole time. This obviously leads to all of you spending a lot of time together and it’s kinda become a non-established relationship between the three of you.

(Something to point out- they all love each other in the 1st option. Meaning it’s also ghost x soap x reader. Just Simon and reader were together first.)

The whole fic wouldn’t be about you all falling in love, if anything it would be a background thing. I just wanted to add more depth to it. Or I can just make it about you and Simon … Johnny would kinda just be around and would probably still have the daughter just nothing is going on between you three. Third option is to get rid of Johnny completely and just focus on you and Simon.

Honestly just ignore the last one… I really want Johnny to be part of this in some way

[bdbueckers]

ballin' | p.b

"bet i get you wet now, bet i make you sweat now"

pairing: paige bueckers x fem!reader

warnings: smut, fluff, them being down bad for one another, jealousy(?), fingering, thigh riding, a little dirty talk, i think that's all lmao

word count: 4k-ish (sorry i'm a sucker for pwp)

summary: you and your beautiful girlfriend finally have the time to dedicate a night out to yourselves...or something like that.

author’s note: hi! this is my first fic about paige and it's been marinating for a while but ima stop acting scary and let y'all have it. this could technically read as a part 1...i have more written but it was getting pretty long so i found that the ending on this was a good stopping point. but, let me know if y'all want the rest! i tried my best to proof read so if i missed anything i'm giving it to god. enjoy! (if you hate it don't tell me)

date night was always long awaited for you and paige. between school for the both of you and the season underway for her, there was little time to dedicate to yourselves for something like a dinner reservation. undoubtedly it was understood that making time for one another was necessary and of course it came in many other forms, but this, an entire night to yourselves to do anything your hearts desired was so hard to squeeze in. until now.

excitedly texting your friends with your final outfit choice and starting your makeup way before you even needed to so it could be perfect, you were more than ready to get out of the house. paige had stepped out a bit ago to “get gas” and you anticipated at the very least being ready before she got back. you hadn’t seen her before she left with you cooped up in front of your vanity getting ready, but you could only assume that she looked as gorgeous as always.

finalizing your makeup with a lip combo you scurried to the closet where your dress hung. a backless halter neck mini dress, simple in your eyes. of course you loved it enough to wear it out, but not as much as paige loved it on you. the first time you tried it on for her some time ago you could’ve sworn you saw her drool a bit. her eyes immediately blown out, a smirk painting her lips as she tried to get her hands on you. there was no denying that it quickly became one of her favorite things she had ever seen you in so it was perfect for tonight.

you slipped into the dress, grabbing shoes to match and spritzed some perfume on before attempting to get some pictures to post later. before you could get more than a few flicks of yourself in the mirror you heard the jingle of keys unlocking the door. giggling in the mirror like a schoolgirl, you do a once over of yourself and walk out of your room to meet paige at the door.

when you see her you feel your heart skip a beat and you honestly have to resist the urge to moan a little. she’s got on some mascara to make her eyes pop, her hair falling over her shoulders in waves. she’s dressed in a short sleeved button down and a crop top that fits her frame perfectly. her jeans sit on her hips in just the right spot to show off her toned abdomen and her newest pair of sneakers. oh, and of course all of her jewelry catches the light perfectly.

to finish the look off she holds a bouquet of roses.

you don’t know if you want to giggle, cry, or drop to your knees to give her some of the best head she's ever known in her 23 years of life.

“baby, what’s with these?” you break the silence, creeping towards her with the biggest smile on your face. she extends an arm to wrap around your waist pulling you in for a hug after handing you the flowers.

“just a lil sumn for my princess. you knew i wasn’t gonna to step to you empty handed, when have i ever?” she taunts, placing a kiss on the crown of your head as you pull back from the hug, quickly placing another right on your lips.

the kiss is sweet, just a peck at first. but when you both lean in for another you can’t help but slowly slide your flower free hand up the front of her body to then rest on the back of her neck. moaning into the kiss when you feel her tongue slide between your lips to meet your own, you feel warmth flood the pit of your stomach. her hands are low on your waist, one making its way to your ass causing you to gasp a bit as she smirks into the kiss.

you pull back first, holding eye contact with your girlfriend as she is very clearly stifling a laugh.

“thank you for the flowers paige, they’re beautiful” you whisper into the few centimeters of space between your lips and hers, your eyes glossed over as you look up at her.

“beautiful like you baby. it was only fitting.” she replies with a wink as you reluctantly pull away, still holding onto paige at the waistband of her pants.

“you’re so corny.” you mutter, still a little wrapped up in the kiss

“and you’re clearly in love with that," she retorts, "but you really do look beautiful baby, do a spin for me?" her voice a little lower this time, dropping one of her hands down to grab your own waiting for you to oblige, and of course you do.

she lets out a whistle, hissing after it. clearly you've got her right where you want her and this dress was a great choice.

"let's get out of here while we still can because part of me wants to bend you over right here and say fuck the dinner."

"paige!" you say with a giggle, finally separating yourself from her to grab your purse and phone.

she's waiting for you at the door with the goofiest smile on her face as you manage to pass her and make your way to the car without another word. she opens the door for you and waits for you to situate yourself inside before closing it and walking around to her side.

while she’s getting in the car you can’t help but stare. she always looked good, that was a no brainer. but maybe it was the thought of having her all to yourself tonight that had your mind going crazy. you’re analyzing her from head to toe several times over before you realize you’re squeezing your thighs together for some sort of relief. she stops at a red light, almost feeling your eyes on the side of her head before she turns to you.

“what are you staring at?” she asks with the raise of an eyebrow, making direct eye contact with you.

your mouth is still agape for a second before you can figure out something to say.

“you. you look good. i mean, you always do but right now i’m just thinking about how i have you all to myself tonight.” you respond, looking away from her as the light turns green.

“wowww..you have such a way with words baby, thank you” she chuckles, placing a hand gingerly on your knee to squeeze. your eyes are on her hand as it creeps up your leg until it’s on your thigh, heavy and now partially under your dress. she never takes her eyes off the road but you know she can feel the heat radiating off of you.

you don’t even realize you're at the restaurant until the car stops and is put into park. her hand is gone before you can process anything at all and she is out of the driver's seat and on the way to retrieve you from your spot in the passenger seat. she sweetly grabs your hand, basically dragging you from your dirty thoughts.

dinner is officially the farthest thing from your mind right now.

the restaurant is perfect. it’s dimly lit and not too crowded, a hostess greets you at the front.

as paige gives a name for your reservation you catch her eyes drifting over your girlfriend’s frame more than once. of course to your understanding paige is paying her no mind but her staring is becoming a problem and you have yet to even watch her pull up said reservation.

you clear your throat once and you assume she takes a hint. her cheeks flush before she mutters a quick,

”right this way.”

as you follow behind her and are led to a table you feel paige’s lips next to your ear, “if you can behave so we can enjoy ourselves here, then we can enjoy each other even more when we get home.”

scoffing, you place your hand over hers that’s resting on your hip, “yeah well as long as she gets it together i’ll have no problem behaving.” you turn your head and respond hastily without losing stride.

you’re sat at a table and quickly order a glass of wine before you can gauge the entire menu, almost opting for the entire bottle.

the situation with the hostess is nearly forgotten, as you and paige start a bit of small talk about how school and work are for you and how the season is going for her. how you’ve been managing a balance of things and how she’s been getting along with new teammates and such. then you catch another glance of the woman from earlier out of the corner of your eye and your thoughts are scattered. you hadn’t intended to snap, whether it had been at her or at paige. your girlfriend was always being watched, sought after, talked to. she’s paige bueckers, of course people would stare. at the end of the day you were the only person that mattered to her and she had made that abundantly clear since the first day you'd met.

it’s not a big deal. paige seems fine, just leave it be.

“what’s goin’ on in that pretty little head of yours?” your thoughts are once again interrupted.

you hadn’t even realized you’d be thinking about this shit for that long. paige had finished her story about what happened at practice and just watched your mind wander off for god knows how long.

“sorry baby, i didn’t mean to zone out," you pause before continuing, figuring that there was no point in trying to lie.

"i just wanted to make sure you knew that earlier i wasn’t upset or anything. i did get a little snappy but i'm sorry, it’s not a big deal.” you ramble, looking off to the side at the end of your sentence to avoid her eyes.

“baby, it’s okay if it did bother you. but you know i’m not worried about anybody except you, right?” she starts, reaching across the table to grab your hand.

“of course. i’m okay babe don’t worry, i’m sorry for even bringing it up, tonight is about us and us only.” you respond, interlocking your fingers with hers and bringing her hand to your lips.

“you know you can bring up anything to me at any given time. that’s what relationships are about,” your gaze softens even more as you nod.

her voice drops a bit lower ensuring that only the two of you can hear, “and to dead any of your concerns i wasn’t even aware that i was being looked at until you said something, i was too focused on how good your looks ass in that dress and thinking about what i’m gonna do to you when i finally get you out of it.” she finishes.

you close your mouth, forgetting whatever snarky reply you'd been thinking of as heat creeps up your neck. both of your eyebrows raise in minimal shock. her expression immediately mimics yours before she can continue.

“you thought you could walk out of the house in that and i wouldn’t immediately be itching to take it off of you?” paige says, gaze drifting down towards your cleavage before finding your eyes again.

“no. that was the plan.” you say, raising your second glass of wine to your lips your tone a bit sultry.

“perfect.” she responds, before your moment is interrupted with your food finally arriving

the previous conversation is long gone as you dive nose first into your plate of pasta and also another story from paige about the team and their silly competitive games after practice. the rest of dinner went exactly how you’d hoped. no interruptions. just you and your beautiful baby over a nice meal and a little conversation.

two more glasses of wine down and you’re just as tipsy as could be. you’re focused on what paige is saying until you're not. your eyes momentarily find her lips the way they move while she’s speaking, how she occasionally licks them between a sentence or two before continuing, the heat between your legs quick to return.

you’re waiting for the bill when you get an idea. uncrossing your legs and extending your right one until the toe of your pump is met with her calf, you watch her facial expression falter. you sensually drag your foot up and down until she stops talking.

“didn’t i say behave?”

“baby, i don’t know what you’re talking about?” you taunt nonchalantly.

she notices what you’re trying to do and decides to play your game.

after placing her card down with the bill she's reaching towards your ankle that is now near her knee. her touch gentle, causing goosebumps to arise on the freshly shaved skin of your legs. nodding to the waiter that grabs the check, her attention is back on you. holding piercing eye contact with you she lightly draws foreign shapes on the parts of your outstrechted leg that she can reach.

"alright, that's enough." you say lowly with a playful roll of your eyes, attempting to pull your leg back down to the ground. she quickly strengthens her hold on you, raising her brow again.

"is it?"

before either of you can say anything else the waiter comes back with the check and a receipt, you use the shift of paige's attention to return your foot to the ground.

she scribbles down a signature and tip before quickly making her way to her feet, waiting for you to stand. taking your hand in her own she leads you out of the restaurant and to the car.

before she opens the door for you she mounts you to it with a hand on your hip, towering over you. you reach out to bring her head down to your own until you’re eye level.

“i want you so bad,” you almost moan, taking her free hand in your own and sighing desperately when she leans back standing at her full height.

“i can tell baby, you can’t keep your hands to yourself.” she responds, placing one of her legs between both of yours, smirking when your head falls back against the car door.

paige chuckles a bit before pulling your body towards hers so she can open the door and get you into the car.

the car ride back is comfortable. full of tension, but comfortable nonetheless. paige’s hand back on your thigh, you’re still tipsy as hell, taking photos and videos of yourself to distract from the throbbing between your legs.

when you get home you can’t even wait for paige to open the door for you before you’re out of the car and on the way your front door.

“hey, you know i don’t like when you do that.” she calls out from behind you with a frown as you’re trying to force your keys in the lock, fumbling a bit when you feel her body heat behind you. she cages you in, quick to press her front into your back placing hot kisses onto your neck as her hands are feeling you up.

you finally unlock the door and let yourselves in, careful not to disconnect yourself from paige. she shuts and locks the door behind you both.

“okay let’s make a deal, i’ll never open the car door for myself again if we have sex right now.” you say, throwing your purse and keys to the side as you turn in her arms to face her.

“deal,” she groans as her hands make their way underneath your dress, just to discover that the entire night you’ve been prancing around with no panties on.

“surpriseeee.” you drag out in a whisper leaving sloppy kisses all over her skin that’s gradually exposed as her shirt starts to fall off her shoulders.

she places one hand on your neck forcing your lips onto hers. it’s messy but clearly neither of your care. soon you’re backed against a wall. her other hand slides up your leg and under your dress, two fingers firmly pressed to your clit causing your jaw to fall open in a silent moan.

“should i fuck you right here? you just couldn’t wait to have me, maybe i bend you over now? hmm?” she mutters against your lips, applying more pressure to your cunt slowly tracing figure eights there until she feels more of your arousal leave you and leak into the palm of her hand.

“whatever you want—fuck, just do something..please” you pant, groaning as you feel two of her slender fingers enter you like clockwork. you’ve been wet since you laid eyes on her three hours ago and now several wine glasses deep you can’t help but feel like you’re already about to cum.

the moan you let out sounds borderline pornographic.

“miss impatient...you look so pretty like this baby. i’ve barely done anything and you’re gushing into my hand.”

“mmh–only get like this for you”

“i know. but you’re gonna ruin your pretty dress. the dress you wore all for me huh? just couldn't wait to have all of my attention?” she rasps into your ear, almost in a mocking tone while her fingers pump into you skillfully.

“yes baby, all for you– FUCK!” you try to keep up but she quickly curls her fingers inside of you, hitting that spongy spot almost immediately.

“we’re just getting started, you gonna cum already?”

paige teases, watching your eyes roll back and your mouth open in a silent moan while she speeds up the thrusts of her fingers if humanly possible.

“mmm—i’ve w-wanted you since you walked in here holding fucking flowers.”

“i know mama”

“please baby, don't stop i’m so close” you let out in a string of whines, hand grabbing onto her shoulder for support as you hook your leg around her hip.

“let go, make a mess on me baby you know that’s what i want.” she whispers, messily mouthing your nipples through your dress, licking a line up the valley of your chest to the underside of your jaw, leaving a wet kiss there.

“FUCK PAIGE–“ you manage to let out before you feel that familiar warmth in the pit of your stomach and your eyes starting to roll back into your head.

“i know baby, i know” she shushes you.

your first orgasm of the night crashes over embarrassingly quick. you’re rambling words that don’t even make any sense, them falling deaf to your ears. paige is with you the entire time you ride out your high, leaving hot kisses over any inch of exposed skin her lips can find and whispering praise into your ear.

there’s a heartbeat worth of silence and then you pry your eyes open and almost cum again when you catch sight of your girlfriend. her lips puffy from all the kissing, a slight sheen of sweat across her face and chest, and her eyes hazy.

your eyes drift down to the few fingers that were just inside you and in record speed you reach down to bring them up to your own lips, tasting yourself.

paige lets out a groan, her head lulling to the side as she watches you intently as you carefully suck your release from each of her fingers.

before you can think of anything to say she’s got both her hands under you as she lifts you up. you let out a yelp and a slight giggle, still spent from how hard you came.

paige carries you up the stairs and to your bedroom before placing you on the bed. as she stands over you and begins taking off your heels for you there’s a glint in her eyes.

“you’re really beautiful, you know that?” you mutter softly, never breaking eye contact as she throws your shoes aside and leans down, both her hands on the sides of your head, chain catching your eye as it dangles directly in front of your face.

“have you seen yourself? i had to try real hard not to lay you down in the backseat before we came home.“

taking her by surprise you wrap your legs around her and flip the two of you until you’re sat atop her lap, one of her thighs between yours. she’s got a look of shock on her face but one of her hands immediately lands on your thigh, the other resting on your hip.

“you’re wearing too many clothes paige..” you whisper, starting to peel her shirt off her arms completely. you sigh when the only thing separating her upper half from your view is a teenie black crop top.

you lean down for a kiss, using two fingers to pinch one of her nipples. you take charge, your head turned slightly to the side as your tongue slides between her lips. she moans into your mouth as her hand comes down hard on your ass grabbing a handful of the same spot that she smacked. it's your turn to moan.

you don’t even realize the way that you’ve begun grinding down against the rough denim of her jeans. she immediately noticed, helping you guide your hips over her flexed thigh as you whimper pathetically. your head thrown back.

"look at you baby. just using me to get yourself off, so fucked out you can barely hold your head up," paige utters.

ironically enough this makes you bring your head up and lock eyes with her again, a slight smirk on your lips. using every little bit of composure you have left you slow the motions of your hips.

“paige, earlier when i said it didn’t matter that you were being eye fucked by that hostess i lied. honestly…i was a little pissed at first. but then i thought about how i’d have you under me just like this at the end of the night.”

you change the angle of your other leg so your knee is placed right against her clit, then you start rocking back and forth with a little more intent, determined to get her off like this.

“fuck,” paige hisses, her head thrown back into the pillows. sucking on one of her fingers she pulls the top of your dress to the side to play with your tits.

you whine and bite your lip, holding eye contact with her as she’s fondling you.

“now i just wanna fuck you until i pass out. because nobody else will ever get the chance.”

“fuck" she groans, "baby nothing is stopping you."

this flips a switch in your head. placing your hand over hers that was on your tit you lean down to kiss her, never stopping your knees assault on her bundle of nerves. at this point you’re both a little spent, paige whimpering against your lips as she gets closer to her release.

“you gonna cum for me paige? you wanna give me that? i waited for this all night” you pant into her mouth, your own clit too sensitive by now from your previous orgasm.

“yes—f-fuck, i’m so close baby. you’re riding me so good i could cum just looking at you”

knowing that even when she was on the edge of her own orgasm she would never rob you of some praise pushes you closer to your own release.

freezing for a second you bring two fingers up to your lips and wet them as she watches. finally unzipping her pants and slipping your hand into her underwear you press onto her clit firmly, making tight circles shortly after.

"you're so wet baby...i guess you really do love this dress?" you tease, her head immediately thrown back into the pillows underneath her.

“shit—babe, i’m gonna cum” paige rasps out, not expecting to feel your fingers.

“give it to me. please?” you whisper in her ear.

she loses it. her chest heaving, legs moving underneath you. her hands tight in their gasps on your hips as she grinds up into your fingers, chasing the rest of her high. you leave hot kisses on her neck, sucking on her ear just a little until you feel her breathing become even underneath you.

you pull back to check on her and see she’s already looking at you.

“we're not even close to done. strip.”

[tpwk-formula1]

Could you please write a story where lando x reader have basically 'adopted' keegan (even tho he's like 3 yrs younger than them) and she hates whenever they make him do dangerous stuff

AN: SPECIAL EXTRA FLUFF POST!!!! (I know I said I wasn't gonna post a fluff this week but this came in and I got too excited so I quickly wrote it before work! NOT proof read!

OMG stop I absolutely love this idea!! I stopped writing a fic to get this one started! I did switch timelines just a big to make the story work so pretend the video on Quadrant where Keegan tried Karting for the first time happened after summer break!

TW: NONE

WC: 1.1K

Y/N POV

"Keegs, have you eaten anything today?" I ask walking up to him with the sandwich I had made for him before we had left for the yacht day.

"I had breakfast," he says softly knowing we had eaten over 6 hours ago and he had been outside all day in the sun.

"Keegan, you're an athlete stop being stupid," I laugh while tossing him the sandwich which he great fully took and started eating it.

"He's a grown man, love. Let him live," Lando tells me softly while approaching me from behind and taking me into his hold.

"You too Norris, sit down and eat," I say while passing him the second sandwich which has him groaning but instantly sitting next to Keegan and starts eating his sandwich.

"Whipped," I hear Max Fewtrell say from somewhere else on the yacht making me shake my head and threaten him with the last sandwich in hand.

"You and P are such moms," Max rolls his eyes while taking the food from me and sitting next to his best friend.

Over the last year or so the friendship between Lando and Keegan had grown from more than just a sponsored athlete to a truth friendship. When the younger boy started coming around it was almost instant that my motherly instincts kicked in with him.

I mean hell when he called us after winning gold at the Paris Olympics I hadn't stopped crying from podium. He still laughs about it and even pokes fun but he has also on multiple occasions expressed how thankful he to have Lando and I in his life.

Once the yacht day has come to an end we make our way back to the house we had rented for the week.

"We're going cliff jumping tomorrow, do you guys want to come?" Martin's friends asked the rest of us when we had made it back to the house.

"No," I instantly say a long with P while all the boys instantly say "yes" making me look directly at them.

"Have you all lost your damn mind? 1 of you is in contract for racing which mind you comes back in just a few weeks and the other just came off of Olympic gold, you need to be fucking careful," I start ranting while Martin starts laughing at the group dynamic not expecting anything less from us.

"It's fine, we'll be fine," Lando reassures me making me me shake my head.

"Get Zak's approval and then it's fine," I say with a smirk and a little shoulder shrug knowing his boss would lose his ever living mind if he found out his young driver is trying to do something so dangerous.

"Please! I promise we wont get hurt," Lando begs giving me his puppy dog eyes I have never been able to say no to, a long with Keegan behind him giving me the same look.

"Okay fine, but I swear to God if you get hurt," I say while pointing a finger before the two boys.

With that the broke out in bright smiles and Lando instantly took me into his arms and places a few kisses on my lips.

We're now coming to the end of our trip when Lando and I are relaxing in bed having some much needed downtime when a knock rings out through our room.

"Come in," I call out grabbing my bookmark and putting the book I was reading to the side.

When Keegan walks in he has a nervous expression written all over his face.

"What's wrong?" I ask sitting up a bit taller making Lando sit up a bit more noticing the serious expression written across the younger man's face.

"Can I ask for some advice?" Keegan says while walking into the room and closing the door behind him.

"Of course, you can sit on the bed," I say laughing a little when I noticed him awkwardly standing near the end of the bed.

"So I've been talking to this girl," Keegan starts while sitting on the bed.

"Aye! My man," Lando says excitedly while dapping Keegan up making his cheeks grow even redder.

"Well anyways, her name is Ella and we've been talking for awhile and I want to make it official but I'm nervous she might say no and I also need ideas on how to plan the perfect date to ask," Keegan admits making me smile. While it might have been Lando's first time hearing about about Ella, Keegan had already come to me about her and from what I had gathered he really liked her and she seemed really sweet.

After about an hour of planning the most perfect date for Keegan to take Ella on he thanked up both before leaving the room with a bright smile on his face.

"That's my son for real," Lando says laughing making me shake my head with a laugh falling from my lips.

"He's such an awesome kid," I reply back before cuddling closer into Lando's side.

"Did you pull the same move on Carlos when you where asking me out," I tease with a smirk on my face.

"Maybe," Lando admits with his cheeks reddening.

It's been a few weeks since summer break and we already have a week off from racing which means it's time to film for Quadrant and as we pull up to the track both Lando and Max have been suspiciously quiet about what we will be filming.

When we pull up to the track I see Keegan almost instantly making everything click for me.

"No! He is not about to hope in a kart without any training!" I say sternly making Max laugh and Lando turn and give me a reassuring smile.

"He's fine, he can drive a car, he can drive in a few circles on a kart," Lando says but it just makes me groan and throw my head back.

Lando did end up giving Keegan a small run down before filming and once he was in the first Kart I could already feel my stomach drop. He was going as fast as his car will allow him to go but you can see the difference between Lando's control of the Kart and his control but after the first lap he was able to adjust and already looked more comfortable.

As the karts got faster the more I go stressed. Keegan was clearly having an amazing time in the karts but my anxiety is going through the roof.

By the end of the video it is clear to all of us that Keegan loved every moment of it and even asked the next time he could drive one.

When the video was posted fan instantly clung to the fact that I was like a mom to Keegan. I mean an entire compilation was made where it was every moment I made a comment, face, or gasp throughout the short video making fans across F1 laugh at the endearing moments between friends.

------

Sorry it feels a bit rushed I just loved the idea and might even circle back around in the future and add to the story

[i-loved-silly]

WOLVERINE x READER x DEADPOOL — fuckup twinsies

dp&w spoilers!!

So I had a silly idea. Sorry if it’s out of character, I haven’t written for canon characters in a fat while but these two are stuck in my head. Enjoy :3

POV: you’re a dimension hopper : sent to the Void as a punishment for doing your thing. Damnit

Dust. Sand. Desert. That was all you knew ever since you were banished here. The place you were basically forced to call home—funnily enough, (actually it’s rather sad) you had forgotten what your real home was. A large, and I mean LARGE amount of timeline touching and dimension hopping does that to you.

By spending years of visiting dimensions and maybe messing a couple things up, you damaged your own timeline. Simply because you wanted to take Mr Captain America’s shield back to your home dimension. What can you say, a little artifact doesn’t hurt, right?

Except it did.

Now you’re stuck here, and honestly? It’s fine. You had nothing to return to anyway. At least you thought. TVA explained it that way, anyways. Everything was fine. You spent your years here surviving and avoiding Cassandra Nova by making your own little underground hobbit hole. How cute.

Everything was the same everyday—you hid out, occasionally left to find food and materials, came back to safety. Until one day you heard something while out scavenging—almost like distant yells? From above you??—You looked up and was shocked to see two figures falling out of the sky and barreling straight for you.

"OOMF --" You were thrown onto the sand on your back, you swore you felt a couple bones break...or something. All your belongings in your little ripped backpack went flying around you and the others stabbed into your back. Then there was the weight on top of you. A muscular , red, and talkative weight.

"Owww, oh fuck, that hurt. I hit bones. I just hit someon--oh." Deadpool groaned, snapping his elbows back into place to get a good look at you. He blinked. "Well lookey here, who the hell are you? Wait, did i kill them?" He gasped as he saw your pained scowl.

Wade frantically shook you by the shoulders. Getting hit by something from that high should have killed you. You coughed, ugh...your whole body hurt. You don’t remember if you gave yourself overpowered abilities before hopping into this dimension…or the last one. Was it during the time you went to the Loki-verse? Season one, episode five? Nah.

"Get off of them," Logan grunted, dusting himself off from his spot a few feet away. Hey, at least you weren’t hit by both of them. "See what you did, you fucking idiot? Get away from them."

"Woah, okay! First of all, it's not like I wanted to crash into someone like a wrecking ball, got it? I am not Miley. But look, they're fine!" He shook you by the shoulder again and you spat out a bit of blood.

"Guhh..." You groaned, rolling over. Yep, your bones were definetly crushed.

"We're not here to poke around, Wade. We're on a mission." Logan glanced at your beat up form wearily--oh well, if you weren't dead by now you'll be fine.

"Fine," Wade let go of you, letting your body flop back onto the sand with another "thud" on impact. "Oops, Im sooo sorry. I-..oh come on! Don't you have at least a little bit of a curious tickle? They can help us." He whined, gesturing to you and to Logan.

"They're a stranger, bub. Just...leave em there." He hesitated, then grunted and turned the other way.

You groaned in pain again--seems like they're your only lines--and sat up on your elbows. Your head was pounding and suddenly it was too bright outside. "W-wait..I’m fine..just let me.." You pressed your palm against your forehead.

Wade leaned down in front of you, placing his hands on his knees. "Oh, you're alive. Good. Why are you here, little buddy?"

You tried laughing nervously but a cough interrupted you. Right, there was sand in your lungs. "I uh...couple years ago I touched a timeline I shouldn't have. More like, a lot of timelines. Kinda-sorta fucked up."

Wade let out a loud gasp and placed his hands on the sides of his face, then made a giddy noise. "Eek! Fuck up twinsies! You heard that, Logan? We aren't the only dimensional fuck ups!" He was oddly enthusiastic, the scruffy guy in the distance wasn't so much.

Actually now that you think about it, he seemed a bit enraged. Just a bit. “Who the hell is we?”

"Who are you again?" You muttered, grunting as you worked on standing up. Wade extended a hand and you took it, before you could thank him—he quite literally yanked you up by the arm like a fucking ragdoll. You hit his chest and your eyes widdened.

"How the heck do you not know me? I mean you probably don’t know him, that sexy beast of a man is Logan, professionally Wolverine. Not a very good one though. Anyway, I'm Wade Wilson, but you can call me Wade. Or Deadpool. Or the Merc with a Mouth. Or the Chimichanga Bandit. Or—"

"Wade, shut the fuck up."

Wait.

“Wait, you’re Deadpool and Wolverine? Like the real ones?”

PART 2

[xxsabitoxx]

Pale Blue [Part One]

Geto Suguru x AFAB Pregnant Reader

READ PART TWO HERE

Warnings: THIS FIC IS CANON COMPLIANT, if you are not caught up on Jujutsu Kaisen's manga, or at the very least if you have not seen "gojo's past" you WILL be spoiled. This story contains darker themes, heavier topics, pregnancy and all the lovely details of it, and lastly explicit sexual content. Read at your own risk!

A/N: Here it is!! Part One!! This fic is super self indulgent for me and I'm very excited for y'all to read it. The idea literally came to me in a dream like a month ago and I woke up and immediately started writing. It's been a long ass time since I've written a plot heavy fic, and it's been well over a year since I've actively planned a multiple part story and gone through with it. So, this fic is kinda like... my baby lol.

Word Count: 19k | Playlist

September 2007

Your mouth felt like chalk, hands trembling ever so slightly as you set the small wand on the countertop in your bathroom. You couldn't think straight, but that unfortunately wasn’t anything new, it had been that way for the last three weeks. Ever since he left, you had felt like your head was stuck in a fishbowl. People eyeing you with pity at the world you had been dropped into, their whispers muffled into incoherent nonsense as you walked by. Satoru was no better off, but he could at least tug his emotions off of his sleeves and place them in his heart where nobody could see them, except for you. At least you would be able to see them if he didn’t shut you out. 

Not that you had been any kinder, you had withdrawn too. 

The only one who seemed alright was Shoko, her reaction to Suguru’s deflection was nothing out of character. Not many things could shock her to her core, even something as absurd as what Suguru had done couldn’t wipe the gentle smile from her face when she saw him again. You envied her for that level of composure. You envied her for getting to see him again, just as you envied Satoru. For some reason, the man evaded you as if you were the plague. Or perhaps it looked like you were merely chasing after a ghost, a figment of your imagination. You kind of wished that it was true, that Geto Suguru had been someone you conjured up in your mind. 

But he wasn’t, he was a real, breathing human who had taken over one hundred lives…. Including his parents. The thought made your mouth taste like metal, everytime you zoned out too long and thought too hard, you’d bite your inner cheek until it bled. Three weeks later you still felt like you were moving on autopilot, the only thing that could pull you out of it would be his gentle embrace. You blinked a bit, the metallic taste coating your tongue as you unclench your jaw and look in the mirror. You hardly recognize yourself, for a moment  you think you look just like him, and it's enough to steal the little air you had in your lungs. 

You had never thought you'd experience a heartbreak as severe as this one, and you especially didn’t think it would be dealt to you by Suguru. Though you saw all of the signs, the hundreds if not thousands he put out and never let you touch. No, his cries for help were always directed at Satoru. The white haired man never seemed to catch them, and if he did, he never said a thing. Suguru had refused to acknowledge his issues when he was with you, no matter how many times you tried to sit him down and get it out. He’d change the subject and move on. 

He’d sweet-talk you, making you forget why you had been so concerned in the first place because there, for a fleeting moment, was the boy you had fallen in love with two years prior. He’d fill your mind with nothing but good things, pretty noises, good feelings. Not stopping until his name was all you could utter, not stopping until you fell asleep in his arms, content and sedated. He was a master at avoidance, trying so hard to keep things perfect just for you. You were beginning to hate him for it, but even the idea of hating him made bile burn your throat. 

You were left in emotional turmoil, love mixing with hate mixing with rage and depression. No matter how many times the word hate flashed through your mind, it was never truly directed at Suguru. Rather the jujutsu world, the things they had forced upon him, the pressure he had been made to feel. You especially felt that bubbling hate for a certain man by the name of Fushiguro Toji, who caused this whole spiral. He was long gone now, Satoru had effectively put the man down and he would not be getting back up. Though it killed you to no end that he got the easy way out. You almost wished that Satoru had kept the man alive. 

You couldn’t stomach it as your back pressed into the cold wall of your bathroom, arms folded over your chest as you stared at nothing in particular. Eyes refusing to focus on anything of importance but making a point to avoid the developing test on the counter. 

Suguru had left you a note, shortly after his final conversation with Satoru. You had returned to your dorm to see it on your bed and you recognized his handwriting before you even read your name on the envelope. You could still feel your hands trembling as you ripped the paper, flinching as it cut your skin, crumbling as tears dripped down your cheeks. You read it three times before finally comprehending the words, the paper littered with tear drops and your blood. Every word was written with care, you could hear his voice as your eyes passed over each sentence, see his face before you as if he was speaking. 

It was an apology, his resolve and a goodbye all in one. Leaving you more empty than you had felt before. Still, it sat on your nightstand, you couldn’t throw it away. As if his sweaters weren’t still hanging in your closet, like the blanket he got you wasn’t still sitting on your bed. You held onto that letter like it was the last thing you had of him. Mourning him as if he had died, like he wasn’t still alive and breathing and walking around within the very city you were in now. You almost thought it would be easier if he had died. At least you’d feel some sort of closure, knowing he’s not coming back. But this, this was a form of torture for you. 

To know that you could bump into him at a restaurant, or even pass him on a busy street. He wasn’t gone, if anything he was doing better than he ever was. Leaving you, Satoru, Shoko, and everyone else behind to pick up the shattered pieces. Still, you couldn’t hate him for that. No amount of anger would mend the torn pieces of your broken heart. You were fairly certain nothing would, the only cure was the one man you could no longer call your own. You’d spend the rest of your life with your heart ripped wide, an empty void filling the space. 

You inhaled deeply, pushing off the bathroom wall and taking a hesitant step towards the counter. The test was upside down, you couldn’t see the small little window that would show you the results, for a moment you wanted to pick it up and throw it in the trash without even looking. There was nothing stopping you from doing so either, but you held back anyways. The only reason you were taking a pregnancy test in the first place was because your period was two weeks late. You could easily chalk it up to stress, but at the same time you knew all too well that you and Suguru often went without protection. Idiot. 

Somehow, despite his inner battles, Suguru’s sex drive never slowed down. Maybe it was the craving for physical touch or maybe sex was a great way for him to forget about his issues for a while. Regardless, you had always been eager to oblige, even if it meant falling into his traps and luring your attention away from the real issue at hand. You had no idea how long it had been and if the damn thing was positive you were sure it would show up by now. So you picked it up and flipped it over in your hand, tired eyes scanning it. Your forehead creased for a moment, eyes squinting in frustration because you couldn’t tell if there was a second line or not. 

If it’s positive, it's too early to tell. Your grip tightens around the small plastic test, anger flooding your heart as you chuck it in the trash can with such force it rattles as it hits the wall. Once again you are left with uncertainty. It seemed nobody could give you a straight answer anymore. Truth be told, you weren’t sure what you wanted that test to say. The thought of being pregnant with his child would have elated you two months ago. Now the thought made your insides twist and turn, for a moment you thought you were going to puke again. At the very same time, the idea of the test being negative felt like a rug being pulled out from under you. 

As if you didn’t know that feeling well enough. 

In a twisted way, you thought that being pregnant would bring him back to you. As if it would erase every heinous crime he had committed and bring the man you loved back into your arms. You were foolish, but not foolish enough to really believe in those daydreams. You hauled yourself out of your bathroom and back into your dorm room, falling into your disheveled bed with a soft thump. His t-shirt was hanging loosely on your body, it still smells faintly of him. It’s the only shirt of his that you’d been wearing, too afraid to lose his scent on the others. 

It was still early enough for you to sleep for a few more hours before Shoko was knocking on your door and hauling you into the world. You hated it, but she assured you that you’d thank her for it in a couple months. You doubted it, and for some reason you felt like she did too. 

Your sleep was dreamless, it had been since Suguru left you. You weren’t quite sure if you were thankful for that or not. Suguru was still the last thing you thought about before falling asleep and the first thing you thought of when you woke up. His absence consumed your every thought, impossible to ignore, unable to forget. There had been a few tough nights where you dragged yourself down the hall towards Satoru’s room. The man was usually still up, sitting on his bed with a book in hand that you could tell he wasn’t reading. Just an attempt at distraction. 

He welcomes you without a word, scooting over a bit so you could sit beside him, head on his shoulder as he tosses the book to the floor. You remain like that until you fall asleep, no words spoken but nothing needed to be verbalized to understand you were both mourning the loss of a man who wasn’t even dead. In an odd way, you felt as if you were mourning Satoru as well. His smile, his jokes, the way his eyes seemed to sparkle, all of those things had dwindled. To his credit, he was managing to pull himself back together, at least better than you had been. 

A harsh knock at your door signaled that Shoko was there. You hadn’t even realized that you fell asleep, but you felt even more groggy than you had a couple hours prior. “I’m up.” It’s hoarse and unconvincing but you hear Shoko utter a small “ok”. You know she’s still there, she always waits for you to get dressed and emerge from your room yourself. If you make her wait any longer than fifteen minutes she's usually barging in herself to pull you from your bed. Your body aches as you sit up, stumbling across the room to the bathroom because you need to pee yet again. 

The air almost feels stale as you get your routine done in the bathroom, the test is still sitting in the small can beside your sink. It’s presence is heavy, to the point you question if you should take it out with you despite only having a couple tissues accompanying it. You decided against it when she knocked again. “Just getting dressed.” You mumbled softly, listening for her small “Hmph.” At least letting you know she heard you. Your uniform still felt foreign on your skin, it had for the last three weeks but you tried to ignore it. “About time.” Shoko smiled as you emerged, Satoru beside her. “Oh? You’re both here?” Your tone was questioning but not mad. 

“Yeah, Yaga said we should take the day to be normal or something like that.” Satoru drawled, circular glasses sliding down his nose as he rolled his eyes. “Us? Normal?” You snorted, pulling your door shut as Shoko began walking down the hallway. “He just doesn’t know what to do with us at the moment.” Satoru offered in a low tone, Shoko would scold him for speaking like that, especially to you. The thing is, he wasn’t saying anything that you hadn’t already thought of yourself. “I don’t know what to do with us either.” You could assume Yaga was being vigilant, the guilt of not seeing what was happening with Suguru was weighing on him too. 

The flick of Shoko’s lighter was heard as you stepped into the morning air, laughter bubbling in your chest as you looked at her. “It was killing you, wasn’t it.” Yaga had been cracking down on her bad habit, trying to limit her by saying no smoking in the dorms. “Just a little.” She teased back, inhaling deeply before blowing the gray smoke past her lips. “Shoko, gimme one.” Your eyebrow cocked as Satoru stuck his hand out. Her eyes met you for a moment before begrudgingly handing the lighter and pack to him. “New habit?” You commented softly, watching as he stuck a cylinder between his lips and held his hand up to block the flame from the wind. 

Satoru shrugged, inhaling a bit before blowing out, moving to hand the pack to you. You hesitated, the test in your dorm trash can still lingering in the back of your mind. “I’m good.” You took them anyway, handing them to Shoko. Neither of them said anything but they shared a knowing glance, they couldn’t be mad at you for trying to quit a bad habit. “So where are we going?” You didn’t like the prolonged silence as the two of them puffed away. “I didn’t think you’d want to go anywhere, but if you want we can go get breakfast.” Shoko’s eyes flickered over both you and Satoru, as if she was looking at two temperamental children. 

“Breakfast sounds good.” Satoru offered, shoving one hand in his pocket while the other plucked the cig from his lips. “It does.” You added softly, stomach turning at the very thought of food but you couldn’t let them know that. You had lost your appetite shortly after he left, but you still forced yourself to eat at least one substantial meal a day. The nausea that had settled in your gut most days usually deterred you from anything else but plain rice and maybe some soup. Still, it was food and the only thing you could keep down at that. “Alright, I’ll call for a driver and we can go get something to eat.” Shoko pulled out her phone, clicking on a number she saved. 

“You’ve been eating, right?” You jumped a little, eyes sliding over to Satoru. His tone was low, just low enough for only you to hear. “Yeah, I’ve been eating… you?” He looked the same, tall and lean with broad shoulders. Satoru nodded, pushing his glasses up to sit on the bridge of his nose. “The car will be at the gates for us in five minutes so let's get going.” Shoko started walking, like always you and Satoru followed behind her like ducklings. Satoru’s question still lingered in your mind, his ability to read your thoughts nearly rivaled Suguru. 

You had to wonder just how much those six eyes of his could see. 

The three of you clamored into the car, Satoru taking the passenger seat while you and Shoko took the back. You had no idea where you were going, not even when Shoko gave an address to the driver. It was somewhere in the city, you knew that much, but you trusted her judgment and prayed they would have something plain for your stomach. None of you spoke as the car barreled forward, your eyes glued to the surroundings zipping past you, as if you’d catch him walking down the street on a busy morning. You knew you’d always be looking for him, everywhere you went, your eyes would search for him. 

You tore your eyes from the window, glancing at Satoru in the passenger seat. You couldn’t see his eyes, but his head was turned towards the window. If you had to guess, he was doing the very same thing. Looking for someone who would never appear. Unless you were Shoko of course, you still felt your throat tighten at the thought. You knew Suguru had chosen to reveal himself to her for a couple reasons. One being that she wasn’t nearly strong enough to take him down single handedly. The other being her easy going nature, he knew there would be little to no conflict or questions to answer with her. If roles were reversed, you’d do the same. 

“Hello?” You blinked, looking at Shoko with parted lips. “You okay?” her head tilted, brown eyes lingering over your features. “I… yeah.” You swallowed, the car was still moving so you didn’t space out for that long. “What are you in the mood to eat?” She repeated the question she had asked seconds prior while you were clearly on another plane of existence. “Something plain.” You offered lamely, hands clasping together in your lap. “Plain?” Satoru questioned, eyes shifting to look at you through the rearview mirror. “My stomach has been sensitive. Plain foods are all I can really get down right now.” You shrunk into the seat. 

Shoko hummed, eyes observing you intently now. You could almost hear her silently listing all of your physical symptoms, noting in her head the various things that could cause them. Most could be answered with heartbreak, but that didn’t typically make you sensitive to certain foods. Shoko and Satoru knew of Suguru's relationship with you. They knew you were serious about each other, that you often slept in the other’s dorm depending on the day. They knew you went on dates and bought each other gifts. They knew you had long since confessed your love to one another and were not strangers to holding hands when you thought nobody was looking. 

It didn’t take a genius to figure out that the two of you slept together as well. 

~

“Quiet.” You sunk your teeth into the side of your cheek, struggling to stifle your noises as Suguru’s fingers curled inside of your tight heat. “You don’t want them to hear us, right?” he cooed again, lips ghosting the shell of your ear as he pressed you harder into the empty desk, nearly pushing it into the wall of the classroom with the ferocity of his hunger. 

You shook your head, not trusting your voice in that moment to make any coherent sounds. Your nails dug into his bicep, legs splayed hazardously over the sides of the desk as you used your free hand to brace yourself. Two fingers continued to plunge in and out of you, curling perfectly and sucking the air from your lungs as he found that one particular spot. 

Suguru watched in fascination, dark eyes glazed over as they flickered between his hand and your face. Each draw back revealed the slick shine of your arousal on his digits, each push forward was accompanied by a squelch. It made his throat tight, arousal making him feel hot all over as he continued to fuck you with his fingers. 

“Sugu…” You choked, face warming considerably as you realized how desperate you sounded. “Hmm?” a gentle hum, his fingers burying deep and massaging your walls until your thighs twitched. “I need you.” Your head fell back, hand leaving his bicep to slap over your mouth in an attempt to silence the cry that left you. “You…need me?” 

Those words were jarring to him, as if a chain of firecrackers had been ignited under his skin. You nodded, helpless and at his mercy as you prayed Satoru and Shoko wouldn’t wander off to figure out where the two of you had gone. You couldn’t quite comprehend what happened next, the sudden retreat of his fingers left you feeling empty, clearing your foggy mind for a second. 

They were quickly replaced with something else, something wet and soft. Your eyes widened considerably when you looked down to see Suguru on his knees, hands gripping the plush of your thighs with his face buried between. He would have given you more if it weren't for his damn pants, he was too impatient to struggle with the high waisted fashion choices he made. 

You couldn’t think again, mind immediately fogging over as you focused solely on Suguru’s head between your legs. The flat of his tongue licking up your folds before delving further, bumping your clit with his nose and earning a strangled noise from you. You bit down on your fist now, not hard enough to draw blood but enough to silence yourself for a bit. 

Suguru didn’t mind, if anything he wanted them to hear you. He wanted to see the shocked look on Satoru’s face when he realized what was happening. He couldn’t lie, this whole rendezvous had started because of an offhand comment Satoru made. One about how he was likely better at pleasing women than Suguru. You knew that's why you were in here too, you felt like you needed to thank Satoru for pushing Suguru to this point, whether that was his intention or not. 

Heat continued to build in your gut, if you could trust yourself to stay balanced you would have let go of the desk and buried your hand in his hair. You wanted to tug the silky black locks from the confines of the bun he always kept them in, watch them cascade around his handsome face and turn messy because of your fingers. Then again, that may make it a little too obvious to your two awaiting friends. “Sugu…” 

You gasped, hand flying from your mouth to grab the desk as you nearly lost your balance. Suguru had started to stand, knocking you back as his arms wrapped around your lower half in a bear hug. Suguru was standing at his full height now, your knees bent over his shoulders while only your mid-back and shoulders pressed into the desk. You could have melted into a puddle the moment his eyes met yours, his mouth still pressed firmly to your cunt. 

“Suguru…” You choked again, hands moving to grip the sides of the desk for some kind of grounding. You could feel him smirk, eyes burning into yours as his tongue lavished you. It was all too much, too lewd, too risky. Your orgasm was building faster than you anticipated, the tingling arousal shooting down your spine and making your legs tense as he teased you. You came with a choked cry of his name, eyes squeezing shut as you rode out your orgasm. 

~

“We’re here.” You blinked, eyes scanning your surroundings as Satoru got out of the car. “Are you sure you’re okay? We can get the food to go and head back to campus.” Shoko’s words were out of concern but her tone was still relaxed. “I’m alright, I could use some time in a busy space.” You lied, the quiet of your dorm room had never sounded so inviting. “Thank you.” You muttered softly to the driver, his small smile told you he was well aware of what was going on. Satoru was already by the front door of the cafe, putting out the butt of his cigarette on a nearby trash can before dropping it in. Shoko did the same, following after you as you entered. 

Satoru’s looks tended to come in handy, his glasses sliding down his nose to show the startling blue of his eyes was all that was needed to get the three of you a seat and bypass the wait. “At least you’re good for something.” You teased him, watching him roll his eyes before smiling. “It’s my duty to get the two of you quick service and good food, even if I have to whore myself out.” For some reason, that had laughter bubbling in your chest, the genuine kind. “Such a noble sacrifice.” You laughed, the menu in your hand shaking as your shoulders bounced. You were too distracted to see the way Satoru’s shoulders seemed to sag in relief as he watched you, for a moment it was like nothing had changed.

If it weren't for the gaping, empty space in the booth beside him, he would have been convinced. 

“What are you going to get, Shoko?” She was the only one actively looking over the menu. “I’m not sure yet, but they do have some options that would be easy on your stomach.” You weren’t sure why but it made your heart ache just a bit, she had been more concerned over your meal than her own. At the very same time, it made you feel small, like you were a bit of a nuisance for having stomach issues… or whatever they were… in the first place. “Oh, alright.” You focused on the menu, aware of their eyes on you as you tried to find something small but appealing. You settled on tamagoyaki and asked for it to be made on the salty side rather than sweet. 

Shoko went for a traditional meal as well while Satoru ventured into their “western” cuisine. His choice sounded so sweet that the thought of it made your teeth hurt. “I don’t know how you do it, Satoru.” you sipped your tea slowly, letting the hot liquid slide down your throat and settle in your stomach. He only shrugged, smiling softly “I’ve yet to find something too sweet for me to handle.” Normally he would have added something flirty but he decided against it. Despite knowing you and Suguru were a couple, it never stopped Satoru’s flirtatious comments. It only bothered Suguru a little bit but he knew his best friend would never cross that kind of line. 

“You may go into cardiac arrest before you meet your match, Satoru.” Shoko snorted, sipping her coffee as she took in the surroundings of the busy cafe. For a moment, you wondered if she was doing what you and Satoru had been subconsciously doing for the last three weeks. “I keep waiting for him to appear.” Your tone was just barely above a whisper, as if even bringing up his existence would cause the world to implode around you. “Me too.” Shoko spoke softly, eyes still looking anywhere but the two of you. Satoru kept quiet, face unusually somber as he sipped his coffee. “I think I’ll eventually go insane.” 

You tried to sound lighthearted but the crack in your voice gave the opposite effect. 

Satoru’s eyes flickered up at that, making your shoulders shrink into the booth. You had quickly come to learn that both of your friends were treating you like fragile porcelain. Though you partially felt the same when talking to them, especially Satoru. Despite the frequent and long nights with each other, little to no words were ever spoken. “I’m fine.” You tried, voice a little stronger than before. “We can talk about these things without falling apart.” It sounded like you were trying to convince yourself more than them. Before anyone could speak, the waiter was walking over with your food, effectively stopping any further discussion. 

“Satoru…” You choked as the waiter walked away, eyes focused on the sugary, gooey concoction on the plate before him. “That’s your ticket to the ER.” Shoko was gawking at it too, a bite of food already halfway to her mouth. Satoru, on the other hand, looked like a kid on christmas morning, glasses sliding down his nose with a smile on his face. Your stomach grumbled as he cut into the pancakes, the feeling making you jump just a bit. You actually felt hungry, mouth watering as you looked down at your own plate and moved to take a bite. 

Silence fell over the table as you all ate, within minutes half of your food was gone and you were quietly wishing you had ordered something a little bigger.

“You need a napkin.” You laughed softly, handing Satoru your spare napkin so he could wipe the syrup off of his cheek. “Thanks.” For some reason you couldn't help but think he looked like a little kid. For another reason you couldn’t quite explain, it made sadness sink into your shoulders. He should be here with the three of you, eating and laughing and bringing you the comfort you always looked for in him. Your hands shook as you moved to eat more, not willing to let the surge of emotion get rid of the appetite you rarely had nowadays. 

As you finished your plate, you felt the bubbling wave of nausea build in your stomach. You inhaled slowly, trying to find a way to ease your worries and keep your food down. “Are you okay? You look a little green.” Shoko eyed you with concern, not even a second later Satoru was signaling the waiter for the check. “Y-yeah… told you my stomach was sensitive. That’s the most I've eaten at once in the last three weeks.” You couldn’t stand the embarrassment of making a scene or wasting money on the food you had just consumed. “I’ll be back.” You slipped out of the booth, your friend’s concerned eyes zeroing in on you as you disappeared for the bathroom. 

Luckily for you the bathroom was empty, the fluorescent lights making you flinch as you stumbled to the sink and turned the water on cold. You leaned over it, hands and wrists submerged under the running stream, chest heaving with the effort to remain calm. You were desperate to keep the food down, so desperate you could feel sweat forming on your temple as you tried to focus on anything but the nausea. Suguru’s face flashed through your mind and for a moment you were convinced your knees would give out from under you. 

~

“I told you to take it easy.” He huffs softly, fingers running through your hair as he rakes it away from your face. Carefully, he’s looping one of his elastics around your hair to keep it in place. Your head is still buried in the toilet, you had just finished throwing up for the third time in the last hour. “Are you still with me?” His hand is on your back now, rubbing slow but deliberate circles. Feebly you give him a thumbs up, throat burning from the sting of alcohol coming back up. 

“You didn’t eat much today and then you went and got shit-faced with Shoko.” Suguru stated the obvious, trying not to scold you because he knew you weren’t doing good right now. “I don’t think you have anything else to puke up, do you want some water?” You lifted your head now, reaching for toilet paper to wipe your mouth. “Water sounds good.” Your voice was weaker than Suguru had expected it to sound, his heart aching a bit as he sat beside you on the bathroom floor. 

“I’ll be right back, okay? Just yell if you get scared and I’ll be by your side before you know it.” You nodded, thanking him softly as he got up and disappeared out of your bathroom. You were only seventeen at the time, acting far older than you were and thinking you could get away with it. Now, you are facing the consequences of being naive. Typical for someone your age. Suguru had returned in under two minutes, handing you a glass of room temperature water. “It’ll be easier on your stomach at this temperature.” He chuckled as you grimaced. 

He moved to grab a washcloth from your cabinet, turning the sink water on cold. “And this…” he wrung it out twice before turning off the water “will help focus your attention on something other than the nausea.” He placed the cloth on the back of your neck, watching your shoulders sag in relief as something finally cooled your clammy skin. “Thanks, Sugu.” 

~

“Sugu… I’m scared.” Your voice was barely audible, tears burning your eyes as you squeezed them shut. Somehow it was working, your pain outshining the nausea as you tried to stop yourself from sobbing in the middle of the restroom. A year had passed since that moment in time, you were only eighteen now and yet you felt as if you had grown a decade. Yet, you were reduced to a scared and crying child because of nausea. Get it together. You forced yourself to straighten, hands slightly numb under the current of cold water. 

You forced yourself to make eye contact with your reflection, observing how stark the dark circles were under your eyes. Shoko had been right, you did look a bit green, but it was fading steadily as everything subsided. You let your hands sit under the water for a minute longer before bending over the sink and splashing some on your face. The door to the restroom opened as you straightened again, Shoko was looking at you with worry. “Did you get sick?” you shook your head, turning the water off and reaching for the paper towels. 

“Managed to fight it off… for now.” 

“Satoru paid already, there is a convenient store a couple shops down. We can get you some nausea meds and a barf bag for the ride back… just in case.” You nodded, smiling a bit. “That would probably be a good idea.” you followed her out of the bathroom and through the restaurant, Satoru was standing on the sidewalk with a new cigarette between his lips. “Damn, you really did develop a new habit.” He only shrugged, inhaling deeply before blowing more out. “I’ll get over it at some point.” Knowing him and his will-power, he probably would. 

“I’ll call for the driver, Satoru take her to the convenient store and I’ll catch up.” Satoru nodded, saluting her with a quick “yes ma’am” before grabbing your hand and dragging you along. You didn’t speak until Shoko was out of earshot. “Do you think it’s going to get better?” You appreciated the weight of his hand in yours, though you were certain he could feel how clammy it was. “I think it’ll get more bearable with time.” not better, but tolerable. The thought had your chest feeling heavy as you stepped inside of the small store. 

“Nausea meds and barf bags.” Satoru chuckled, reading the signs above each aisle until he spotted one that seemed like a good start. “You’ll have to see a doctor if this doesn’t ease up… how long has it been going on anyways?” You shuffled behind him, arms crossing due to him letting them go a moment prior. “Shortly after he left, after I found the letter.” Only Satoru knew about the letter that had been left behind. How Suguru managed to get back onto campus and leave it in your dorm was beyond him. You had even let him read it, breaking his heart again. 

“Shoko!” Satoru called, noticing her walk down the aisle before you could even turn your head. “I’m not good with this stuff, what should we get?” Satoru had already grabbed a box of blue cylindrical barf bags for you but the actual meds were basically foreign to him. “I’ll handle it from here, Satoru. You can wait in the car, he should be upfront by now.” Satoru’s brows furrowed, so did yours, but the look in Shoko’s eyes had him shrugging and handing the box to you. “Alright then, I’ll see ya out there.” 

He whistled as he strolled by, your eyes narrowing on Shoko. “What’s this about?” you watched her shuffle through the shelves, picking up one and reading the box before setting it down and moving onto the next. “I don’t know what you mean.” She commented offhandedly, plucking another box and reading it before sighing. “This one should work.” She turned, handing it to you while motioning you to follow her down the aisle. You read it over, nothing out of the ordinary so you truly couldn’t figure out what made this one different from the others. 

You stopped short when Shoko did, eyes scanning the aisle and feeling your stomach drop. “Shoko–” You sighed, she was standing in front of the pregnancy tests. “Listen, I know it’s probably the last thing you want to even think about but I think you should take one.” She was grabbing a box of the cheap tests, the same test that was still residing in the trash can of your bathroom. “Shoko, it's not necessary.” You couldn't bring yourself to tell her you already took one, for some reason you couldn’t tell her it was negative either. 

“I’ll buy them, and you’ll keep them. If this nausea doesn’t subside in like two weeks, I’m forcing you to take them.” You felt your face burning, clutching the nausea meds tightly in your hands as you looked away from her. “Fine.” You sighed, head tilted at her shoes as you followed her up front to the register. Everything was placed neatly in a brown bag so nobody could see the contents. Once in the car, you popped open the barf bags just to keep one ready in the event your nausea returned full force. “I figured you would forget this.” 

You looked up to see Satoru handing you a bottle of water, your lips parting in surprise. “You know me well, Satoru. I did forget.” you took it from him, grabbing the box of nausea meds and ripping them open. You took them and sighed, gulping down water when you realized how thirsty you had been. “If we have nothing else to do today, I think I’ll take a nap.” You were aching for your bed, more tired now than you had been after any missions. “Alright but we’ll wake you up for dinner if we don’t hear from you.” Shoko smiled, cracking the window to light a cig. 

“It’s not even 11am yet.” you snorted. “Yeah but you can sleep like the dead when you really need it, if we don’t wake you, you’ll sleep straight through till tomorrow.” You opened your mouth to deny it, about to use your frequent bathroom breaks as an excuse but stopped yourself. Saying that would only confirm the very thing Shoko was suspicious of. “Alright, fine, whatever.” You resigned with a playful huff, arms crossing as you turned to look out the window. Luckily for you, you managed to make it through the ride without needing to use the bag. 

“I’ll see you later.” You called after them, waving as you headed for the dorms. They both waved back, finding shade under a tree to enjoy more of the sunny morning. You felt your shoulders sagging with each step, your social battery diminished far faster now that Suguru wasn’t always by your side. You had almost grown a bit too dependent on him, thinking he would be a constant in your life. You inhaled shakily, the brown bag crumbling between your fingers as your emotions bubbled to the surface yet again. You couldn't seem to get yourself to your dorm fast enough, hot tears slipping down your cheeks as you shoved the key in the lock. 

It came in heavy waves, making you feel weak as you could only succumb to the sadness festering in your chest. You dropped the bag by the door, kicking off your shoes and shouldering off your uniform jacket. Moving on autopilot, you drew your curtains shut and took off the rest of your clothing, sliding his shirt over your head until you were enveloped in his scent. You were gasping for air by the time your body hit the mattress, curling in on yourself as you sobbed. “I miss you.” You hiccuped, rubbing your eyes as if it would stop the tears. 

God dammit, Suguru, why did you have to do this?

You buried your head in your pillow, trying to drown out your own feelings before sadness turned to anger and you ripped your whole room apart because of it. 

~

“Stop wiggling so much.” His voice sounded like gravel, rumbling the back of your head as he spoke. “Can’t help it.” You retorted, trying your best to settle into a comfortable position. Suguru had you wrapped in a bear hug, his favorite form of affection, especially since he knew you couldn’t get out of his grasp. His arms were covered in thick muscles, something you initially didn't expect because his uniform and choice of baggy clothing typically hid them.

 You could use all your strength and his grip wouldn’t falter.  

“Why not?” he mumbled again, if you had to guess, his eyes were closed as he spoke. “Cause it’s warm, Sugu.” you were both laying on top of the covers, little to no clothing on because of the heat and the broken air conditioning that the school was still trying to fix. Nothing but an old fan swiveling side to side to create some sort of relief. Still, Suguru couldn’t sleep unless you were pressed flush to him, warm or not. “It’s not that bad.” 

“Oh it absolutely is.” you immediately countered, turning your head back to try and look at him. “It could be way worse.” he tried again, fingers thrumming against your side. “Yeah, it could, but it could also be better. Like if you let me go for example.” You wiggled a bit, trying to create space before he pulled you tightly to him again. “Nice try, it’s not happening.” You groaned, going limp in his arms as he began to laugh. “I could totally make it worse for you.” He added softly, lips ghosting your ear. Despite the heat, you shivered. 

“The weirdest things turn you on, Sugu.” 

“Hey, it’s not nice to call yourself weird.” 

You slapped his arm, earning another rumble of laughter as he moved to hover over you. “C’mon, if I make you sweat, it’ll make the breeze from the fan feel colder.” You rolled your eyes, studying his features as he looked down at you, hair framing his face and ghosting yours. “That’s counterproductive, you know.” Your hands were running up his biceps anyway, moving to wrap around his neck and pull him close to you. “Maybe it is, but you can’t say I’m wrong.” 

His head was lowering, giving into your pull with no hesitation. “You’re right, I can’t say you’re wrong. But… I want to.” You smile, pulling him further until your lips melt together. He was radiating warmth, his teeth grazing your bottom lip to ask for entrance. Your lips parted, hands snaking up into his hair and tugging at the strands until he groaned. Suguru braced himself on one hand, making the mattress dip just by your head. The rest of his weight was settled on his knees, caging your hips in so you truly couldn’t get away from him. Not that you wanted too now. 

You felt small beneath him, his bare skin radiating warmth as he used his free hand to push your shirt up. You could ignore the heat for the time being, more focused on the steady beating from between your thighs. “Sugu…” You parted with a gasp, watching him lean up and pull you with him, allowing him to drag your shirt over your head and toss it to the floor before pushing you down again. His lips didn’t return to yours, instead they moved to your neck, kissing along your pulse point until you were whining. “Quiet, baby, don’t forget we’re in my room.” 

Satoru was asleep next door, that realization set in like ice water being dumped over your head. “Suguru.” You choked as his head dipped lower, licking along your collarbone before moving to one of your breasts. He wasn’t going to answer you, and you knew that for a fact by the way his lips curled into a smirk against your skin. “You’re evil.” You gasped, hand fisting his hair tightly as he scraped his teeth along your breast, nipping at the soft skin. Your other hand found its home on his shoulder, nails scratching lightly as his muscles flexed under your grasp. 

You sunk your teeth into your cheek when his lips wrapped around your perked nipple, arousal making it pebble slightly as he sucked. Suguru’s tongue lavished your skin, flicking the bud until your back was arching into his touch. It wasn’t nearly enough, your breath coming out in short pants as you tried to pry him off and focus on your other breast. “These would look so pretty if they were full of milk.” You choked, eyes wide as he looked up at you through his lashes. “Don’t you think?” You couldn’t breathe for a moment, stunned into silence by his comment. 

“C’mon baby, don’t act so shocked.” He cooed softly, the tip of his tongue trailing up your sternum. He didn’t stop until he reached your lips, kissing them softly before dipping his head again. His hand toyed with the breast he had just teased endlessly, brown eyes observing the rate of your breathing before lowering onto your other breast. He repeated the same motions, nipping and sucking the senstive skin until you were squirming from the wetness between your legs.

“You haven't answered me, sweetheart.”

“B-because I don’t know how to answer that, Sugu.” You knew exactly what he was implying, but you couldn’t form a coherent response for him. “You just have to tell me if you agree, it’s pretty simple.” He chuckled, pushing himself up to look down at you. Your hands fell to your sides, his neck just out of your reach. “Just think about it, pretty girl.” You watched him, completely entranced as he pulled his briefs down and his erection sprang free. “Because I’ve been thinking about it a lot.” 

“You have?” You sat up a bit, fingers shakily pulling off your own underwear to save time. “I have.” He confirmed, cheeks turning a shade of red that you could see even in the moonlight. His hand slid along his length, spreading the precum drooling from his tip while his boxers rested at his mid-thigh. “Take those off, Sugu.” You smiled a bit, reaching for the waistband and pulling them taut before letting them snap back against his thigh. “So demanding.” He snorted, letting himself go to push the material off, tossing it to the floor just as you had done with your underwear. 

“So are you, demanding an answer for something so…so…” you couldn’t find the right words, not when his eyes were on you, devouring you whole. “…so what? How does it make you feel?” He redirected, pumping himself leisurely as your thighs fell open for him, still supporting yourself on your elbows as you waited. “How does what make me feel?” A stupid question but you were still reeling from the initial statement. Suguru laughed, hand still gliding over his length as he sat on his knees.

“How does it feel knowing I think about getting you pregnant… all the fucking time.” You couldn’t deny the thought made you feel hot, hotter than you felt from the heat and arousal mixing. Like molten lava was running its way through your bloodstream. “F-feels fucking…” you squirmed a bit, legs moving to close involuntarily until his hand shot out and stopped them. “Go on, pretty girl. Tell me.” You sat up, glaring at him with warm cheeks. “How about you fuck me. Then, maybe, I’ll tell you how I feel about your little fantasies.” Suguru groaned, head falling forward for a moment. 

“Sounds like a good deal to me.” He moved forward, pressing you back into the mattress as he pulled your thighs towards him. Your lips found his neck, sucking on it harshly as he ran the dull head of his cock between your slick folds. You let him move you however he pleased, your legs being pushed almost painfully to your chest as he pressed into you. You gasped in unison, his cock stretching you open easily despite no prep. “Shit…” his head fell forward again, nearly bumping yours as he bottomed out, no space left between the two of you. 

Suguru stayed in place, eyes shut as he focused on the way your walls fluttered and squeezed around him, unable to stay still. Your nails dug into his scalp, pulling a groan from his lips as you tried to relax but couldn’t. He was big, bigger than any fling or partner you had in the past. No matter how easily your cunt accepted him, it still stung for the first few seconds. You had grown to love the deep ache, the weight of him inside you, the way his tip would brush your cervix depending on the position. Like now, with your legs pressed so tightly to your body. 

“Can I move?” his voice was soft, eyes peering into your own once he gained his composure. “Y-yeah.” You breathed out, the feeling of his hands on your skin still sent shockwaves of arousal through you. Especially when his grip tightened, bracing himself on you as he drew his hips back half way before rolling into you again. You moaned, eyes squeezing shut as Suguru found his rhythm, hips meeting yours with a soft slap. “D-Don’t forget Satoru is…” You wailed softly, pleasure building quickly as he moved. “I know…” 

But the smirk on his face told you he no longer cared, he’d gladly listen to his white-haired best friend bitch and moan in the morning about being woken up by you. Suguru’s rhythm only sped up, hips angling perfectly to brush along that one particular spot as he thrust into you, cock head brushing your cervix every few thrusts until your vision was blurring. The pleasure ebbing through your body was more than enough to block out how uncomfortable your current position was. 

A wet squelch started to emit between your legs, loud enough to be heard over the drone of the fan as Suguru pounded into you. “So…” he started, voice strained as sweat dripped down his temple. “... can you tell me how it makes you feel now?” You blinked, awestruck that he was still hooked on getting an answer from you. “S-suguru…” you whined, head falling further into the pillows. “I’m not letting it go…ha… Tell me how it makes you feel.” he ground out, hips slowing just a bit. When you didn’t speak, he pressed more of his weight into you so one hand could break free. 

You moaned, loud and unrestrained as his fingers ghosted across your swollen clit, the sudden contact making you see stars. “Tell me how it makes you feel.” he repeated, watching your face go slack as his fingers and hips worked in tandem. “Makes me hot…” You admitted with a heavy breath, eyes struggling to focus on him. “I want you to do it, Sugu… fuck me till I’m pregnant.” The look on his face had you shrinking further into the mattress, an almost animalistic look taking over his eyes as he stopped moving all together. “Say it again.” 

“I want you to fuck me ‘til I’m pregnant, Suguru.”  

~

You woke up in a sweat, gasping for air as you stumbled out of bed and barreled to the bathroom. You couldn’t stop the nausea this time, knees hitting the tile floor with bruising force as you heaved into the toilet. You hadn’t even remembered falling asleep, but your dream was enough to send you into a death spiral. Tears burned your eyes as the little bit of breakfast you hadn’t digested came back up. Luckily for you, you had slept long enough that your food from this morning wasn’t a total loss. Nothing more than bile was left as you finally calmed down. 

You reached for toilet paper, wiping your tears and blowing your nose until you could at least breath without difficulty. Aching, you got up, flushing the toilet and washing your hands and face. You had no idea what time it was but you assumed it wasn’t late enough for dinner if Shoko never came to wake you up. At least that’s what you thought as you stumbled back into your dorm room slightly sweaty. That’s odd… The sun had begun to set just beyond your window, your eyes flickering to your alarm clock. 7:23pm stared back at you in big red numbers. 

I slept for over eight hours? You looked for your phone, seeing the missed text from Shoko. 

Shoko: I decided against waking you up, I figured you could use the sleep. Just text me when you’re awake and I can bring you dinner

You were partially grateful for her decision, your face still warm as your dream lingered in your mind. Dreaming of the past, how cliche. You sighed, sitting on the edge of your bed. You had woken up so suddenly, adrenaline blocking out the sleepiness at first. Now, your body seemed to thrum with a dull ache, the headrush coming back around to kick you while you were down. You reached over to turn on the small lap residing on your nightstand, eyes squinting for a moment as you adjusted. Your eyes focused on the brown bag from earlier, the one you discarded on your floor after coming back. 

You knew there was water in there still, so you got up and grabbed it, looking at the bag contents in disdain. You emptied it on your desk, nausea meds, barf bags and the box of pregnancy tests. You studied then as you gulped down some of the water, easing the burn in your throat. The pregnancy tests Shoko had insisted on were identical to the one you took this morning. Weirdly enough you wished she had grabbed the more expensive digital ones. That way you wouldn't have to strain yourself trying to figure out if a second line was present or not. 

“Fuck it.” you sighed, dropping the now empty water bottle in the small barrel you kept beside your desk. You still had one more test in the box from this morning, you’d take another one just because of the memories lingering on your mind. Your face felt warm as you recalled that particular night from a few months back. Suguru had been pretty adamant after that, fucking you raw and in ernest with every intention of knocking you up. You, stupidly, let him because you love him and loved the idea of having a family with him. “Idiot.” 

You scolded yourself again, ripping the foil wrapper and tossing it in your trash with the now empty box. You went through the same process as you did that morning, peeing into a cup and dipping the absorbent end into it for ten seconds before capping it and discarding the rest of the contents. You forced yourself to leave the bathroom this time, convinced it would make time go by faster. The text Shoko had sent was still left unanswered, you couldn’t even bring yourself to feel hungry at that moment in time. 

You’d text her in a little while though, or else she’d likely come breaking your door down thinking you had run away. Just then, your phone vibrated with the ringtone you had set for Satoru. You grabbed it, flipping it open to see what he had to say. On the screen there was a message from him, asking if you wanted to hang out on the rooftop to watch the stars later on. You smiled a bit, it was rare for Satoru to ask things so formally. You clicked out a message, telling him yes and that you could use some fresh air. 

It took him no time at all to send a happy emoticon, one that had you rolling your eyes as you typed back that you’d meet him at his dorm when you were ready. You backed out of the chat, eyes lingering on a particular contact, your message to him was naturally left unanswered. You had given up texting Suguru’s number when the messages no longer got delivered. You figured he’d discard his phone, throw away any direct contact he had with the three of you. You snapped your phone shut a moment later, you’d text Shoko after you got dressed.

Opening your closet was still proving to be a bit difficult, especially as your fingers trailed over the material of the clothing Suguru had kept in your room. They smelt like the laundry detergent he used as well as his cologne, it took your breath away for a moment. You forced yourself away, grabbing some comfortable clothes that were actually yours before shutting the door. You didn’t think you’d ever be able to discard his clothing, despite knowing he wasn’t coming back to you. 

You pulled his shirt over your head, grabbing your own and replacing it. You pulled on a pair of shorts after, rubbing your face with your hands as you looked at your appearance in the mirror. No amount of sleep seemed to help the dark circles under your eyes or the sickly look to your complexion. You could only hope Satoru was right, with time it would become more manageable. You glanced at your alarm clock, 7:48pm stared back at you now. The sky outside your window had turned indigo, the sun minutes away from being completely out of sight. The summer was coming to an end, filling your chest with melancholy.

You couldn’t stand being alone in that moment, grabbing your phone and shoving it in your pocket as you made a beeline for your door. You made your way down the hall, remembering as you passed Shoko’s dorm that you needed to text her. Stopping in your tracks, you figured it would just be easier to see her in person. “Shoko?” you called, fingers tapping the door softly because she hated when people knocked too loud. “Coming.” You heard her rustling around her room before the door opened, a half smoked cigarette hanging from her lips. 

“Thought Yaga told you no smoking inside.”  

“What he doesn’t know won’t kill him, and my window is open.” 

You smiled, “I’m hanging out with Satoru on the roof if you wanna join us.” Shoko exhaled, puffing just a bit of smoke in your direction. “I’d love to but I spent the whole afternoon with him ‘cause you were sleeping.” You sighed, rubbing the back of your neck “my bad.” but Shoko was waving you off. “Don’t apologize, you need sleep… I’ll trust Satoru to feed you if you’re hungry.” She smiled as you rolled your eyes “Alright alright, enjoy the rest of your bad habit and I’ll take Satoru duty.” The look in Shoko’s eyes made your smile falter for just a moment. 

They looked oddly wistful, but it vanished just as quickly as your smile faltered. “Aye aye captain.” Shoko started to shut the door as you turned to leave, watching you go for just a moment before shutting it completely. “Satoru.” You drawled, banging on his door so you could be heard over the music he was playing. “Oi, keep it down!” the door swung open a moment later, a cheeky grin on his face as he looked at you. “Ready to go?” He looked cozy in an oversized black hoodie and sweats, sunglasses resting on top of his head. 

“Sure am.” you returned his smile, the ache in your chest easing just a bit. It was more bearable when you had someone who understood the pain you felt deeper than surface level. You watched him turn, shutting off his music and the lights before stepping into the hallway. “Are we going to take the normal way or are you going to test out your blue?” Satoru’s eyes seemed to sparkle as you suggested he use his curse technique. “If you insist on blue…” You couldn’t even make a sound as his arm wrapped around your waist, hauling you off of your feet. 

In the blink of an eye, you were exposed to the cooling night air. “Damn.” You laughed as he set you down, shuffling over to the small lock box you kept up here with spare blankets and, as Shoko claimed, “necessities”...Which were just two cartons of emergency cigarettes. “Didn’t disorient you, right?” Satoru was standing on the edge, observing the glow of the city in the distance. “Not even a little, you’ve improved a lot, Satoru.” your back was turned to him, so you missed the way his eyes widened slightly, cheeks turning pink. 

“Thanks” 

You turned back to him, blankets in hand. “So…” You walked over to where he was standing, taking a seat just before the edge and letting your legs dangle off. “...So?” Satoru looked down at you, watching you settle. “Why did you want to come up here… I’d love to gaze at the stars but it’s not like we’ll actually see any with all the light pollution.” Satoru sighed, dropping down to squat beside you. “I guess I just wanted your company… ya know since you’re probably the only other person that understands this.” his tone was awkward, it wasn’t often that you were sentimental… or serious for that matter… with each other. 

“Your welcome to have my company any time, Satoru. I don’t know what I’d do if I didn’t have you.” It was so heartfelt it made you feel strange. “Sorry.” You added, a bit meeker than before when he stiffened a bit. “Don’t be sorry, just not used to being so… serious with you.”  He sat fully now, shoulder brushing yours as a silent invitation for you to rest your head. You did, just as you always had, watching the lights of the city a few miles away. “It’s strange, isn’t it?” You spoke in a gentle tone, hoping he knew what you meant. 

“It is. Knowing he’s there, that he’s okay… while we’re sitting here sulking like idiots.” There was a small bite to his tone as he finished, one that quickly left when he exhaled. “It pisses me off.” It made you upset too, anger bubbling in the back of your mind like a pot of boiling water that was going to overflow at any second. “It pisses me off too, because I truly can’t understand it. I’ve killed myself over the last three weeks trying to understand, to make sense of it. I can’t and I don’t think I ever will. But it’s not my place to reason with it, you know?” 

Satoru was silent, waiting for you to continue. “It’s not my life, it’s his. I tried for months to get it out of him, I tried so goddamn hard to get him to open up and he never did. Always redirecting, always avoiding.” You sounded defeated by the end, blinking away the tears that blurred your vision so you could regain composure. “Why didn’t you come to me?” Satoru questioned softly, letting your words sink in like an anchor. 

“He gave you so many signs, Satoru. If you couldn’t see them, it wasn’t my place to assist.” 

Satoru felt like that should have made him angry, but it didn’t. Mostly because you were right, it had been obvious from the start but he had naively pushed them to the side, pretending it wasn’t true. He was just as much at fault, if anything he was willing to shoulder all of the blame. Because at least you tried. He couldn’t say the same, and he knew that far too well. “Suguru made up his mind the moment he entered that village. There is no stopping a man who is set in their resolve. You said it yourself, Satoru. He looked healthier, happier, content.” 

Satoru took in a shaky breath, leaning into you just as you leaned into him. “I just don’t get why he needed to kill his parents.” Your eyes closed, that was the thought weighing heaviest on your mind. “He needed to prove to himself that he was doing the right thing. That nobody, not even his parents, were an exception to his newfound ideology.” It killed you to say it, especially since you had met his parents last winter break. They were kind, at least his mother was. His father was a bit colder but there was still an undeniable love for his son. They had welcomed you so openly, they were proud of the son they had raised. 

Now they were gone, nobody but Suguru was to blame. 

“In a fucked up way, I don’t care that he killed those people.” The words felt bitter on your tongue, but his letter flashed through your mind and for a moment you understood him. Those two little girls, beaten and caged, scared and facing death for things they never did. Hell, had you gone on the mission with him, you may have encouraged his choices. That realization felt weird as it settled in your gut. “I… I don’t really care either.” Satoru admitted softly, thinking back over the last year, thinking about Amanai. He had been seconds away from doing the same thing. 

But Suguru had been his voice of reason, stopping him with a simple command. It should have been obvious then, that Suguru’s life was completely altered from that moment forward. “It was so obvious.” He hissed softly, head falling forward just a bit as anger squeezed his heart. “There is nothing we can do now, Satoru. Nothing we can do will reverse the damage that has been done.” You wished you could believe your own words, part of you wanted to catch a train into the city and barrel into that religious group he took over. 

You weren’t even sure what you’d do if you did. Hit him, yell at him? Crumple into his arms like the sucker you were. Maybe a mix of all three, no, it would definitely be a mix of all three. You couldn’t help but wonder how he would react if he saw you again. He made it clear in his letter that he loved you, he still loved you, he would always love you. If you made the choice to leave, would he welcome you in with open arms. Or was he resenting you already for not doing so sooner. Was he waiting for you? Or was it nothing more than sweet-talk. 

“You’re not breathing.” Satoru muttered softly, tilting his head just a bit to look down at you. “Oh…” You inhaled deeply, laughing a bit  as you exhaled “got lost in thought.” You felt Satoru relax again, head resting against yours. “I get it.” You fell into a comfortable silence, watching as the sky steadily turned from a deep blue to pitch black. There, if you squint hard enough, you could make out a couple of sparkling stars. 

You knew if you asked, Satoru could probably whisk you somewhere far away. Somewhere clear so you could actually see the stars with no obstructions. 

Yet you were too comfortable, too warm. 

Sitting where you were now was more than enough for the time being. That feeling of content actually took the air from your lungs for a moment, blinking steadily as you took in your surroundings. There was a fleeting moment where your heart felt light, that aching heaviness that had been plaguing it for the last three weeks wasn’t present. You wondered quietly if Satoru felt it too. Given the way his body seemed completely relaxed into yours, you assumed he did. 

~

You were stumbling down the hall like a drunkard. Your mind felt numb as you moved, head tilted down and expression blank. If anyone were to cross your path at that given moment, they probably would have been unsettled by the sight of you. A zombie moving on autopilot, your brain moving so quickly that it had reduced everything to a quiet, droning buzz. 

Murder. 112 people. His parents too. He’s gone. He snapped. He’s a murderer. Suguru is gone. 

Nothing made sense, not a single bit of the information you had received made any sense. The fact that Suguru wasn’t answering your frequent texts wasn't making sense. The fact that you had woken up to an empty bed wasn’t making sense. The fact that people were telling you Suguru, your Suguru, had taken over a hundred lives in the span of one night wasn’t making any fucking sense. 

Your knees nearly gave out the moment your hand met the wood of your door, pushing it open so quickly it slammed into the wall with a loud thud before coming back at you. Not that you cared, at that moment you could be set on fire and you wouldn’t blink an eye. 

You stood in the middle of your dorm room, eyes scanning the room as if it were something foreign. Nothing was making sense, not even your bed looked like your own. It was the pressure cracking down on you already, sinking its claws into your shoulders and forcing you to your knees as the weight of your new reality hit you like a freight train. You couldn’t even bring yourself to cry in that moment, too shell shocked over the report Yaga had read to you and Satoru. 

Satoru. 

You had stumbled away shortly after the report was finished, barely registering the way he had started to yell. You hadn’t looked back, but it wasn’t like either of them tried to stop you. Despite having just stumbled away from him, you found yourself moving to leave and find him again. At least you would have if your knees didn’t give out on you. You gasped, more out of surprise than pain as your legs made contact with the wooden floor. You sat there for a moment, arms feeling equally as weak as you pushed yourself into a sitting position. 

You felt your chest tighten, every breath felt strangled as you tried to inhale. A cold sweat seemed to cover your skin, fingers shaking slightly as you pushed your hair from your face. You couldn’t move, completely paralyzed by shock. It felt like your heart was shattering, every shaky inhale deepening the wound. Still, your tears would not come. Not even as black spots began to obstruct your vision, chest heaving as you began to hyperventilate. 

Despite your body vibrating in distress, you felt a nearly silent calm. Like someone had flicked off the switch and stole your ability to hear.

Nothing and everything all at once. 

~

“Hey? Y/N wake up…” You jumped a bit, hand coming up to touch the wetness on your cheeks. “You were crying in your sleep.” Satoru muttered softly, hand smoothing over your hair as he cradled you. “I-I was?” You didn’t even realize the change in position or the change in scenery. You were no longer sitting by the roof’s edge, instead you were sitting in Satoru’s lap, his arms holding you tightly as he looked at you with worry. 

“You were.” he confirmed, letting you go just as you woke up fully. “Sorry for worrying you, I was just thinking about him… it’s so strange. I’ve been having such intense dreams of the past… I've had dreamless sleep for the last three weeks… so why now?” Satoru sighed, watching you get up to stand and stretch your limbs. “I don’t know. I’ve been having odd dreams about him but I don’t really remember how most of them go by the time I wake up.”

“It’s the universe’s way of torturing us… as if we haven’t been tortured enough. Wait, how long have I been asleep?” The temperature had dropped significantly, the moon was shining high in the sky now. “About an hour or so, I was actually going to bring you back inside but you started to cry and… well here we are now.” Satoru got up, stretching dramatically as you sighed. “You’d think after sleeping for eight hours I wouldn't be tired.” 

You walked to the edge of the roof again, feet pressing firmly to the ledge as you looked down. “Being depressed will suck the soul out of you.” For some reason you couldn’t help but laugh. “You seem pretty wide awake, Satoru.” He joined you on the ledge, pushing you a bit to the side. Your training gave you quick reflexes so you didn’t flinch when he did it. “Oh please, you know I’m right.” You glanced at him, laughing softly. 

“You are, but so am I. We can be depressed morons together.” His voice was dripping with sarcasm, earning another laugh as you punched his shoulder. “Touche, Gojo” 

“Yuck, never call me that again.” His face had morphed into a scowl as you used his last name. He never liked hearing you call him anything other than Satoru. “Fine.” you crossed your arms over your chest, inhaling the cool air. “I think I’m gonna go shower and maybe make something small for dinner… Just so Shoko doesn’t string the two of us up on a lamppost.” Satoru nodded, watching you step off the ledge and move about the roof to put the blankets away. 

“I’ll accompany you.” he jumped down, trailing behind you as you moved to open the door that would bring you downstairs. “In the shower? I’m flattered but–” the way his eyes rolled were enough to stop you mid-sentence. “Joking, Satoru.” he sighed out an “I know” closing the distance to haul you up. “Using the stairs is boring.” Within the blink of an eye, you were back inside and standing in front of your dorm room. 

“Text me when you’re done showering and we can go get food.” 

You nodded, one of the perks of attending school in Tokyo was the fact that the city never slept. You could go find a place to eat at three in the morning and they’d still serve you hot food. Your body sagged against the door of your dorm after shutting it. Flicking on the lights lit the room in a warm, golden glow. For the last three years you considered your room a sanctuary, it was your happy place after a long day of training. Now, it feels oddly cold. 

You walked over to your dresser, pulling the top drawer open to grab a fresh pair of underwear and pajamas for after. You tossed them on your bed, reaching down for your bottom drawer to grab a particular towel you liked. It didn’t take you long to put your hair up, not in the mood to wash it just yet, and head to the bathroom. You squinted a bit as the nearly white fluorescent lights filled the room, if you had your way you’d change them to something softer. 

It took all of five seconds for your world to come crashing down around you again, eyes zeroing in on the pregnancy test sitting on your counter. I fucking forgot about it…

You set your towel down on the counter, holding your breath as you took the step and reached for the test. You gave yourself no time to prepare, eyes scanning the results once before it hit you like a ton of bricks. You dropped it, letting it clatter on the porcelain counter as a jagged sob ruptured from your chest. Your hand came up to cover your mouth, the other resting on your chest, your heart thumping so wildly you were certain it would burst. 

There, on the test, were two lines. It was positive. 

You nearly fell forward, dropping down to the trash can beside your sink and rummaging through it without hesitation. Your fingers wrapped around the plastic test from this morning, yanking it up and looking at the results again. There, on the initial test from that morning, were two lines. You didn’t drop it this time, eyes staring at the results as if they’d change. Positive, this whole time it had been positive. You just hadn’t let the first test develop long enough. 

“When… How…” You uttered softly, the logical part of your brain screaming at you to be realistic for a second rather than acting so surprised. The irrational side of your brain was still reeling from the revelation. As if Suguru hadn’t been adamant in trying to knock you up for months. “You fucking bastard… you get your way and leave me with the aftermath.” You were struggling, there was no way you’d be able to pinpoint when it happened until you found out how far along you were. For some reason, that was what made reality really set in. 

Hot tears streaked your face, sobbing so harshly that it felt like your lungs would collapse on you. You moved in a blur, legs carrying you out of your dorm and down the hall until you were pushing open Satoru’s door. “Woah there, sounds like someone’s hun…” He looked up, the teasing tone in his voice dropping immediately when he saw the tears streaming down your face. “What the fuck happened? Are you hurt?” Satoru crossed the room in two long strides, hands cupping your face as your lips wobbled. 

You couldn’t get the words out, crying harder as he ran his hands over you searching for some type of wound. “C’mon, what happened?” His tone had more of a bite to it than he intended but you were causing panic to seep through his veins. You couldn’t breathe, legs nearly buckling under the weight of your reality. Satoru seemed to catch this, hands shooting out to support you as he brought both of you to the floor. “Y/N, please.” he urged you, throat feeling tight. 

You shook your head, still sobbing as you raised your hand meekly, the positive pregnancy test out in the open for him to see. Blue eyes widened significantly when he saw it, he didn’t even need to see the two lines to understand why you were so hysterical. “Oh…oh.” he swallowed, hand shakily taking the test from your hand to look at it. “Oh fuck.” it was just barely above a whisper, arm holding you just a little tighter as you cried into his chest. 

At least part of you was aware of the possibility, Satoru on the other hand felt completely blindsided. “You two didn’t use protection?” He uttered softly, rocking you slightly without thinking as your cries continued, you couldn’t think at that moment, unable to calm yourself down. You managed to shake your head in response, unable to feel embarrassed as you admitted to not using condoms when with Suguru. “Fuck… did you ever use protection with him?” 

He knew the answer, of course he fucking knew the answer. Suguru was utterly obsessed with you, so in love it was nearly nauseating. You shook your head again, confirming that you’d never once used protection with him. “Hey… c’mon…” he started softly when your body shook with the force of your cries but you were no longer making any sounds. He wanted to say it would be alright but he wasn’t sure if it would be. 

That answer relied on you. 

He couldn’t expect you to be alright, you had your heart broken three weeks prior by the man who often talked about proposing to you as soon as you all graduated. If those were the kind of conversations Suguru was having with him, he couldn’t imagine the conversations Suguru had been having with you. Well, that was a bit of a lie. Considering your reaction to the test results, it seemed this was a long sought after goal. Your cries were from heartbreak, not fear. 

~

“I’ve been looking at rings.” Satoru glanced up, noodles dangling half way from his lips. “Hah?” He watched Suguru grimace a bit, some broth splattering as Satoru questioned him. “I’ve been looking at rings for Y/N.” Suguru stated again, a little more cautiously now, watching Satoru slurp the rest of the noodles into his mouth. “Suguru, we haven’t even entered our third year.” 

“I know, but…” he shrugged, unable to formulate the right way to say it. “...But? You’re not even eighteen yet, neither is she.” It wasn’t that Satoru didn’t think it was okay, he just figured you were both way too young to even fathom those things. “I don’t intend on proposing to her until we’ve graduated. Listen I know it seems fast but…” Suguru's hands fidgeted with his utensils for a moment, eyes avoiding Satoru until he was ready.

“I love her, Satoru. I didn’t even think it was possible to love someone as much as I love her.” 

Satoru blinked, a bit taken back by such a bold declaration over a bowl of cheap ramen. “I’m not doubting that you love her, Suguru. I just think it’s a bit crazy to think about these things so young.” Suguru sighed, watching Satoru with weary eyes as he moved to eat more noodles. 

“We’re sourcers, Satoru. A long life isn’t guaranteed.” 

~

“Breathe, please. You’re going to pass out.” Satoru’s hand was slapping your back as you coughed, the tears had finally begun to slow but you still weren’t able to form a coherent sentence. “Please…” he tried again, watching you try your best to take a deep breath. It was followed by another, this time it wasn’t superficial. After a couple more, you were able to rub the tears from your eyes and look at him without blurry vision. 

“S-satoru I’m so so-sorry.” you hiccuped, your throat feeling raw from your crying. “You have nothing to apologize for, stop feeling like you have to apologize for everything you do.” he let you go a bit, motioning for you to get up with him and sit on his bed rather than the floor. He watched you crawl under his covers, curling up against his pillows, sniffling softly. Despite the weight of the conversation you were about to have, Satoru couldn’t help but chuckle. 

He crawled onto his bed as well, sitting beside you but above the covers. “So… I guess the best place to start is… how did this happen. By that I mean, was it intentional?” You sighed, toying with the end of his pillow case as you spoke. “Suguru had been trying to get me pregnant for months now.” You felt warmth flood your cheeks, it felt awkward admitting something like that. “I knew the bastard had a breeding kink.” Satoru said it more to himself than you, but that didn’t stop the shrill yell of his name as you slapped his arm. 

“I’m being honest! He just seemed like the type.” Satoru shrugged, holding back laughter as you rolled your eyes and settled back into sulking. “I shouldn’t be so blindsided by this, but it’s fucking ironic that he got what he wanted after he fucking left me… us.” you corrected softly, feeling selfish for being so focused on yourself when Satoru was hurting too. “The universe knows how to play cruel jokes, I’ve thought that my whole life. But, that’s beside the point. We can’t sit here and sulk over it, we need to talk about what to do next.” 

You looked up at Satoru, eyes red from crying. It hurt his heart, you looked like a kicked puppy. In that moment he realized how heavily he relied on Suguru, because even now he found himself itching to grab his phone and call him for advice. What was worse, you were now looking to him for help, when really he was just as scared as you. “The next logical step is I need to find a doctor who can run a blood test and confirm the store bought tests are accurate. After that, they need to tell me how far along I am so I can pinpoint when this happened.”

Satoru nodded, you’d both have to fill in Shoko in the morning, she’d be able to help with all the medical bits. “I… I know this seems a bit invasive so please don’t take offense… but are you going to keep it?” Satoru fidgeted a bit, eyes watching as you seemed to zone out and think. Your initial answer was yes, of course, but were you really capable of raising a baby on your own? Then again, you didn’t think you could stomach giving them away for adoption, and you certainly didn’t want to get rid of them. Not after you chased this goal for months, regardless of the way things were right now. “Yeah, as terrifying as it is, I want this baby, Satoru.” 

“Okay, so we got two of the biggest things out of the way. Now, the hardest…” you huffed as he trailed off, you weren’t entirely sure you were ready to answer the next question. “What do we do about Suguru, that’s what you’re going to say, right?” It was Satoru’s turn to huff now, nodding as he looked away from you to stare at his hands.

“He… he needs to know.” 

“No the fuck he doesn’t.” 

You both stared at each other, completely scandalized by the other’s response. “Satoru… He needs to know… he…he’s the fucking dad? How am I supposed to jus–” Satoru shook his head, hands coming up to rub his face before letting them fall back to his lap. “Suguru is a fucking criminal now, he murdered people. Hundreds of people I should fucking remind you and you just want to waltz back into his fucking life and tell him that shit?” You sat up now, eyes burning holes into his skull as you waited for him to at least look at you. “Do you hear yourself?” 

You were seething, that same anger you held for Suguru leaving was now bubbling at Satoru for uttering his name like it was pure filth. Satoru stiffened, eyes turning to glare at you. But, every ounce of anger seemed to drain from his body when he saw nothing but hurt glowing in your tired and puffy eyes. “I fucking get it, Satoru. I know what Suguru did but fuck, how am I supposed to just get over him? How am I supposed to carry his child for nine months and push it out of my body just to raise it on my fucking own and never tell him? He’s the one that wanted this in the first place!” Tears glossed your eyes over, hands shaking as they fisted in his sheets.

His mouth opened before closing again, eyes looking away from you because he knew he'd never be able to try and talk sense into you when you looked at him like that. “And what if the child is unable to see curses?” he sounded defeated. “What then, Y/N? What if you give birth to this baby and they lack the ability to see them? That baby would be the very thing Suguru hates.” You froze, it felt like someone had poured ice water down the back of your neck. “If he didn’t spare his own parents, he won’t spare his own child.” Satoru swallowed, looking like he wanted to say so much more but didn’t. He let the words hang there, heavy and dark. 

The silence stretched on between the two of you, mostly because you knew he was right. Just because both parents had the ability to see into the curse world and use curse energy, it didn’t guarantee that their offspring would also carry the same blessing. You blinked, hand subconsciously moving to rest over your stomach, as if it would do anything to protect them. “Suguru he… he wouldn’t…” Your words were weak and at that moment Satoru couldn’t bring himself to really fight with you. “But he would, y/n that’s the fucking issue, he would.” his voice was breaking, unsure if he should say what he wanted to say next. 

“Then what am I going to do?” You were going to dissolve, tears burning your eyes again as the harsh reality began to sink in. “Let me help you, let me help you raise the baby. I can easily provide for the two of you.” He turned to look at you now, eyes burning with such intensity it stole the air from your lungs. “What?” you hadn’t meant for it to sound offended, you were shocked to say the least, but still the hurt that flashed through his features made you feel the urge to reach out and hug him. “Satoru I didn’t mean for it to come out so harsh…” You moved forward, arms wrapping tightly around his neck and hugging him. 

It took a second but his arms came up to wrap around your middle, holding you tightly. “It’s okay, it was a bold statement to make so suddenly.” he soothed you when really you felt that you  should be the one soothing him. “No it’s fine, really it just caught me by surprise and…” you hugged him a little tighter, burying your face in his neck. For a moment you nearly stiffened, that was something you usually did to seek comfort from Suguru. In that moment, you couldn’t bring yourself to pull away, finding comfort in Satoru’s reassuring embrace. “You don’t have to answer me tonight.” He hushed you, hand coming up to smooth your hair as he kept you close. “I doubt you have an appetite now, how about we just sleep?” 

“I still need to shower.” You pulled away, laughing softly when you remembered what you had been in the process of doing before your world flipped. “Okay, then go and shower but please come back to me when you’re done.” His tone was quiet, something in it held no room for you to disagree. So, you let go of him reluctantly, nodding as you crawled over him to stand. “Again, you don’t have to answer me tonight, or tomorrow, or even next week. But please, think about what I said.” He stayed on his bed, watching you shakily grab the pregnancy test before heading for his door. “I will, Satoru. Keep my spot warm.” you smiled at him over your shoulder, heart still heavy as you disappeared through the open door. 

The hot water on your skin wasn’t enough to wash away the dread growing in your chest. You found your hands absentmindedly running along your abdomen, still finding it hard to believe something was there, something that would grow into a living breathing human in a few months time. A mix of you and Suguru, how strange. This wasn’t how you imagined it would happen, nor were these the feelings you expected to experience when the time came. If anything, it made you more upset. You should be happy, you should be fucking estatic. You should be basking in the euphoric state of knowing you’d be having a child with the man you adored. 

Instead, you had sobbed in the arms of his best friend, completely hysterical. And the man you loved had no idea you were even pregnant, that the very thing he wanted had been achieved and he wouldn’t even get to know. At least not yet. You had taken Satoru’s words into consideration, of course you did. But in the back of your mind, you knew there was no way you’d be able to go on with your life without ever telling Suguru. He would know, he would know of his child, you were already set on that. You twisted the knob, the water turning off a second later as you got out and dried yourself off a bit before wrapping the towel around you. 

Your body was aching from the events of the last few hours. Returning to Satoru’s room and sleeping in his warm bed sounded like heaven to you. Sleeping next to someone again felt like heaven to you. You had to wonder what Suguru would think if he knew you were sharing his best friend’s bed – albeit nothing sexual was occuring between the two of you. And even then, Suguru had broken up with you in that letter, you were technically no longer his. The thought made you feel sick as you reached for the clothing you had laid on your bed. You pulled the shorts on first, reaching for the oversized shirt second, trying to ignore the nausea building in your gut. 

You moved around your room without thinking, flicking the lights off before heading out the door and back down the hall. Satoru had changed into his own pajamas, hair damp from the shower he must have taken while you went to take yours. He only had his bedside lamp on, the pace beside him vacant and waiting for you. “Are you sure you don’t want food?” he questioned softly as you shut the door behind you. “I’ll eat a good breakfast if my morning sickness allows.” Those words felt foreign, referring to your nausea as morning sickness felt so bizarre. “Alright but if you wake up in the middle of the night starving don’t hesitate to wake me up.”

You laughed softly, huffing out an “okay” as you crawled over him and under the covers once more. Satoru pulled the blankets up over both of you before reaching over and flicking off the light. “Goodnight.” he spoke softly, settling into his bed as you rolled onto your side to get comfortable. “Night, Satoru.” You whispered back, eyes already feeling heavy, the comfort his bed offered was no match for the gnawing reality you were facing. For now, you were thankful for it. 

~

“Think fast!” You laughed, hurtling one of the poles directly in Satoru’s direction. He turned, using infinity to block it just before it hit his face. “Nice! Your reflexes are getting faster.” You picked up another weapon, Suguru was watching you intently, an easy smile on his face. “Sugu!” You called, aiming to throw another pole. “Think fast.” you repeated, arm going back before using every ounce of strength to beeline it straight at him. Suguru smiled, summoning a curse easily to deflect it. “Not bad.” you winked, watching him roll his eyes as the curse disappeared.

“Y’all are gross.” Satoru drawled, pushing his glasses up his nose. “We didn’t even say anything?” Suguru countered, stepping out of the shade and into the sun. “You don’t need to say anything, the tension is almost unbearable.” Shoko chimed, twirling her lighter around her fingers as she watched the three of you. This time you couldn’t help but laugh, letting Suguru close the distance and wrap an arm around your waist. “See, gross!” Satoru sighed dramatically as you kissed Suguru’s cheek. “It’s called being in love, something you wouldn’t get, Satoru.” You stuck your tongue out at him, laughing as he rolled his eyes. 

“Well if you’re gonna be all gross and lovey with one another, go do it in private.” 

“Okay.” 

You and Suguru spoke in unison, a shrill laugh leaving you as he bent down and hauled you up and over his shoulder. Naturally Shoko faked a gagging noise, watching as he carried you away with a smile. “They’re so gross.” Satoru commented again, eyes following the two of you until you were completely out of sight. Though, he couldn't deny the small smile tugging at his lips. 

“Suguru.” you slapped his back lightly, he was still carrying you over his shoulder even after entering the dorm buildings. “Hmm?” he paid you no mind as he climbed the stairs, his end destination would be your dorm room… more specifically your bed. “You can put me down now.” You knew he wouldn’t, so you opted for running your hands along his back, feeling his steps falter for a moment before composing himself. “I’ll put you down when I’m good and ready.” 

You rolled your eyes, playfully swatting at his ass. “Alright, that's it. You’re getting punished.” His words were very matter-of-fact, so much so that you couldn’t help but burst out laughing. “Okay dad.” Suguru didn’t miss a beat, stalking down the hallway towards your dorm room. “Yeah, I’m trying to become one so it would help me out if you cooperated.” You made a strangled noise, it had been three weeks since Suguru admitted to wanting to get you pregnant. Needless to say, he wasn’t giving up any time soon. 

“You just want a reason to fuck me.” You tried to counter, jumping a bit as he pushed into your dorm room and kicked the door closed behind him. “I don’t need a reason to fuck you, baby.” You couldn't describe the noise you made, whiplash taking over as he tossed you onto your bed. “I guess that’s true…” You pushed up on your elbows, watching him pull his white shirt up and over his head, knocking his hair out of his bun in the process. “You’ll be good for me right?” He was dropping to his knees before you, a gentle plea of his name leaving your lips.

“Atta girl.” he murmured, warm fingers hooking in the waistband of your shorts and pulling them down. You watched him with parted lips, watching the way his eyes observed you. “Already wet? How fucking filthy.” his hands splayed along your thighs, pushing them wide open so he could really look at you. “Just because I picked you up? Or maybe it was from wrapping my arms around your waist?” He teased, pulling one hand from your thigh to spread your cunt open instead. “Tell me, pretty girl… what has you so worked up already?” 

“All of it.” You’re breathless as you look at him, no shame in your eyes as you admit how badly you want him. Suguru smiled, fingers keeping you spread as he watched the arousal pool at your entrance. “All of it, hmm? I make you that horny?” His tone was light but the look in his eyes was anything but. You could feel him devouring you whole. “Yeah, you fucking do.” You tried to keep your hips still, praying he’d do something other than watch you grow wetter by the second. “Tell me something, would you?” he pulled his eyes away to meet yours. 

“Anything.” You comment softly, waiting to hear what he had to say. Suguru smiled, fighting the urge to reach up and tuck some of your hair behind your ear. “Tell me what you want me to do to you.” His voice was barely a whisper, pupils blown wide as he looked at you. You audibly groan, face feeling warm as your head falls back. “Eat me out, Suguru.” You drawl, no longer embarrassed by the things he makes you say. “As you wish.” He couldn’t even tease you for such an honest answer. Suguru’s head dipped lower, tongue licking up your inner thighs, teeth grazing the skin eagerly. 

“Sugu…” You whined out, his lips growing closer to your aching cunt. “... can I suck you off after?” 

Suguru’s whole body jolted as you uttered those words, mouth moving to lick and suck along your folds as his honest answer. You took that as a yes. You couldn’t help but squirm as his hands began kneading the flesh of your thighs, all the while his tongue was lapping at your cunt. Each movement sent electricity up your spine, one hand shakily reaching out to hold his head as his lips wrapped around your pulsating clit. “Oh fuck… Suguru…” you were embarrassed by how quickly he had learned to make you cum, the pressure already building in your gut. 

He didn’t slow, rather he slipped two fingers into your slick entrance and scissored them in time with his sucking. He loved to put on a show for you, going as far as to slurp your juices just so he could hear you cry out. You couldn’t think straight when his tongue was wiggling against your clit, stopping every few seconds to suck until your back arched. Suguru continued this until he felt your fingers tighten in his hair, pulling harsh as your moans turned into breathy gasps. He pulled away with a slick pop, smiling deviously as your head shot up to glare at him. “Suguru!” You wailed, letting go of his hair angrily. 

“Not yet, I don’t want you coming yet.”  

“No fucking fair!” you whined, head falling back against the mattress in defeat. “So selfish.” Suguru laughed as he pushed himself off the floor, now making a show of pulling the rest of his clothing off. “There goes your chances at getting head.” you chided, watching as that shit eating grin remained on his lips. “You think this is funny!” you whined again, the echoes of your denied orgasm making you close your thighs to try and alleviate the pressure. Suguru watched you, cock throbbing as he kicked his pants off the rest of the way and tossed them to the side. 

“I do think it’s funny, mostly because you look so cute when you’re so worked up.” his hands wrapped around himself, pumping languidly as you spread your thighs again, eager for more. Suguru smirked, always defiant until his cock was out. “Nah baby, I don’t think you deserve this right now.” he continued to stroke himself, head falling back just a bit as his own aching arousal was finally being relieved. “Sugu…” you choked out in a hushed whisper, mouth watering as he let out a breathy sigh, fingers toying with the sensitive tip. You were regretting your earlier statement. 

“Sugu…” you spoke softly, watching him lift one leg to plant his foot on the mattress, hand still gliding along his shaft as his jaw slackened. He ignored you, continuing to get himself off. He was waiting for you to do something, that realization had you pushing yourself up, pulling your shirt up and over your head and tossing it to the ground. You pulled your legs off the side of the bed, maneuvering yourself until you sat on your knees before him. “Let me suck you off.” breathless, hands folded neatly on your lap as you waited for his response. 

Suguru smiled at you, watching the mattress move as your hips squirmed. “I thought you said the chances of me getting head were gone.” he teased, hand massaging just before the head of his cock, making his own voice falter as he spoke to you. “I never said that.” which was kind of true, you didn’t say those exact words. Suguru cocked an eyebrow, unable to maintain his stern demeanor as your tongue moved to wet your lips, eyes completely focused on his fist. “Please, your hand is so boring Suguru, especially when you could have my mouth.” you tried again, eyes sliding up his torso, admiring the dips and plains of his muscles. 

“When you put it like that, it’s hard to say no.” he murmured softly, letting his cock go. You scooted closer, until your knees were nearly off the edge of the mattress. “Thank you.” You whispered softly, watching his face flush a shade of pink, eyes quickly looking away from you to try and regain some sort of composure. The first touch was always enough to make him weak in the knees, your tongue gliding gently over his weeping tip before lowering to the underside of his shaft. He met your eyes, face still flushed as you looked at him with such adoration. All the while your mouth was doing sinful things to him, your duality was enough to induce whiplash. 

His fingers came up to rake through your hair, guiding you as your jaw slackened, head moving to engulf him in the wet heat your mouth had to offer. “Oh fuck…” Suguru choked when you didn’t stop moving, throat constricting as your nose brushed the unruly mess of black hair at his base. You held yourself there, drool dripping down your chin as your cheeks hollowed. Slowly you dragged yourself back, watching the shiny coat of saliva covering his shaft in your wake. You repeated those motions, finding a comfortable place to bob your head at, his length heavy on your tongue. “So good for me… fuck you’re so good for me… I don’t know what I did to deserve you…” 

You merely hummed, ignoring the slow but steady ache building in your jaw as your hand moved along his shaft. You could tell he was starting to really feel it, his cock twitching every few motions, head tilted back as his eyes fluttered shut. You had to admit you were impressed he managed to stay on his feet. Most times, when Suguru dared to eat you out while you were standing, you were nearly a dead weight in his grasp by the end. The only thing keeping you up was the wall he stuffed you against and his shoulders because he tossed your legs over them. You stopped when you felt him twitching violently, jaw clenched tight as his head shot forward to look down at you.

“Gonna make me cum, pretty girl.” He choked out, hands cupping your cheeks to guide you as you moved your head again. Your hands shot out, holding his thighs tightly as you let him use your head how he pleased, guiding you to a pace that made your eyes water before he stilled all together. You forced yourself to relax as Suguru spilled down your throat, letting you greedily swallow all of it before pulling off of him with a lewd pop. “Fuck…” he nearly fell into the bed, dick still hard as he crawled onto the matress with you. “How about we do this…” he sounded breathless, laying on his side and guiding you to do the same. You knew what he wanted, swollen lips parting as you sighed, settling with your back just barely touching his front. 

You let Suguru grab one leg, lifting it up slowly to create enough space for himself. “Lazy boy…” You teased over your shoulder, letting his arm hook under your neck, large hand resting on your chest. “Maybe I am, but you fucking love it.” You couldn’t complain, not when he was angling his hips and pressing the weeping tip of his cock at your entrance. He pressed into you, adjusting both of your bodies until he found a comfortable position to properly rut his hips into you. All you could do is let him, whining loudly as he split you open, stuffing you full. “How’s that, hmm? Does it feel good?” Suguru whispered against your ear, panting as your walls constricted around him and tried to push him out at the very same time. “F-feels so good…so good…” You whined loudly. 

Suguru didn’t give you a verbal response after that, instead focusing all of his attention on finding a good rhythm to fuck you too. You couldn’t stop the noises that spilled past your lips, each drag of his cock in and out of your heat was enough to make your vision blurry. It took everything in you to at least keep your head up, tilted downwards to watch where he disappeared and reappeared between your legs.  “Suguru…” a breathless plea, one that turned into a steady mantra as all you could think about was him and what he was doing to you. Had you not been so overwhelmed you would have heard his quiet grunts of praise each time your bodies connected. 

Suguru watched a shaky hand slide down your front, in your whimpering daze you managed to slip two fingers down there to rub sloppy circles on your clit. “Gonna cum, aren’t ya?” Suguru gasped, his cock twitching violently as your cunt suctioned to him, nearly making his thrusts falter. “Y-yeah…” you managed to get out, no longer having the strength to keep your head up. You let it fall, resting snuggly in the crook of the arm he was using to support you. “Then come for me, pretty girl. I wanna feel you come all over my cock… then maybe I’ll fill you up, yeah? You’d love that…” you responded with a loud whine, walls fluttering around his length each time he pushed it back in. 

“There we go, come for me.” He encouraged again, warm breath ghosting the shell of your ear and earning a shiver in response. You could feel it, the aching build of a damn that was on the verge of breaking, every breath you made was nothing but a labored pant. Your heart was beating erratically, just as you were about to fall over the edge, Suguru gasped. You couldn’t help but gasp with him, his release pumping into you, hot and sticky. “F-fuck sorry…” he grounded out, his own orgasm sneaking up on him and completely catching you by surprise. Not that it mattered to you, that strained and embarrassed apology was all you needed before you felt yourself coming as well. 

You both essentially collapsed, Suguru holding you tightly as he angled himself to remain inside of you, to keep his cum inside of you. “You okay?” he mumbled softly, hand lazily reaching for the one you had used to rub your clit and bring it to your lips. You whined as he popped the shiny fingers in his mouth, cleaning them with his tongue. “Yeah, I'm good…great really.” You chuckled, eyelids feeling heavy as he hummed. “Good.” he mumbled softly, pulling your fingers from his mouth to kiss them gingerly. “You know I love you, right?” Suguru’s voice was tender, so tender it nearly pulled the air out of your lungs. “Yeah, of course I know that Sugu… you know I love you too, right?” 

“I know.” was all he said in reply, you had to wonder why he was suddenly so sentimental. Suguru was typically softer with you after sex, aftercare was one of his specialties. But something about his tone felt different, something about his question felt like there was more meaning behind it. You had been noticing the bags under his eyes for the last few weeks, but every time you asked he always brushed you off. “Is everything okay?” you tried to turn your head to look back at him, but the angle he had you in proved to make movement difficult. “Mmhmm, just want to make sure you’re okay.” but he hadn’t  been that rough with you. “Yeah, I’m okay… but you haven’t answered me.” He stopped kissing your hand, setting it down gently as he moved to kiss your shoulder. 

“I haven’t?” 

“I asked you if you were okay.”

“Well, I did answer you. I said yes.” he didn’t sound offended, more or less he sounded amused. “Mmhmm isn’t a yes, Suguru.” You, on the other hand, sounded a little less enthused. “I’m okay, baby. Is that better.” you couldn’t see it but you could hear the smile on his lips. “Yeah, that’s better.” But for some reason, you couldn’t shake the worry clinging to your heart. 

~

“Hey… hey…” you woke with a gasp, eyes wet as you tried to remember where you were. “You okay? You started crying in your sleep again.” A worried but groggy voice was speaking to you, one that was familiar but your brain couldn’t seem to catch up. “Y/N? It’s me, it’s Satoru.” There it was, you nearly fell back into the pillow with relief as he spoke. “Shit I’m sorry… I was dreaming and it just… fuck it felt so real. I couldn’t remember where I was…” you wiped your eyes, slowly adjusting to the dark room again. “It’s okay… you’ve been dreaming a lot.” Satoru sighed, he remembered you saying that your nights had been pretty dreamless for the last three weeks so why was that changing now? 

“I know… it just started happening too. Maybe it's because of the baby.”

Your hand lowered to your stomach, palm resting flatley against it. You still couldn’t process the fact that there was something in there, something that was growing, a mix of you and him. “Can pregnancy make you dream more?” Satoru chuckled, blue eyes shifting to read his alarm clock. It was just past four in the morning. You had slept pretty well until a few minutes ago. He had been watching you, woken up by your body growing restless. He woke you up the moment he heard you start to sniffle. “I dunno, maybe.” you sighed, eyes feeling heavy again. “Sorry for waking you, Toru.” You didn’t hear the way his breath hitched, your yawn effectively shutting it all out. 

You hadn’t called him by that nickname in weeks, he hadn’t really realized how much he missed it. “Don’t apologize, I told you to stop that.” Not stern, just tired, he wanted you to go back to normal but he knew that was impossible. Things would never go back to how they were. “Oh, yeah… I guess you have told me that.” You chuckle, turning on your side to face him in the dark. “I won’t apologize for forgetting this time, okay?” You grinned, eyes closing and unaware that he was able to see it in the dark. “Okay.” He sighed, a grin creeping up his own face as he let his eyes shut again. Hopefully you’d sleep through to his alarm at 8:30am, you had a busy day ahead. 

~END OF PART ONE~

Thank you for reading! I hope you look forward to part 2 <3333

Likes, comments and reblogs are always appreciated ;3

[sergeantbarnessdoll]

Protected » Bucky Barnes/Winter Soldier

Pairings: Thunderbolts!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Summary: Bucky is always quick to protect you.

Warnings: Fluff, language, Protective!Bucky, brief mention of blood, guns, kissing, pet names

Written on my phone. My apologies for any mistakes.

Header made by @buckys-wintersoldier

GIF MADE BY ME! I know it’s not perfect, but I tried

Everything around you was chaotic. Bullets and debris were flying. The sounds of guns being fired. You lost track of how many times you’ve come close almost being shot. Luckily for you, you have fast reflexes and was able to move away before the bullets hit you. Bucky was watching you from a distance. He swore he aged 10 years every time he saw a bullet come close to you before you dodged it. He’s very protective of you and doesn’t like it when you’re hurt.

“Doll, please be careful.” Bucky says to you in his earpiece.

“I am being careful, Sarge.” You say, giving him a thumbs up.

He watched you dodge another bullet shortly after saying that. Bucky took a deep breath before going back to focusing on the mission. You aimed your gun at your target and shot at him, taking him down with ease. You continued to take people down with ease till someone tackled you from behind. You yelped when you hit the concrete, knocking your gun out of your hand. Bucky heard the sound of your yelp and looked over at you.

You grunted, trying to get the guy off of you. You looked in front of you, seeing that your gun was too far out of reach for you to grab and shoot the guy. You groaned loudly. That’s when you realized you have a knife in your thigh holster. You grabbed it and reached behind you, blindly trying to stab the guy, which you did on the first try, stabbing him in the side. The guy cried out in pain and got off of you, holding his now bloody side. You rolled over onto your back, trying to regroup yourself. You were about to stand up when you heard Yelena’s voice.

“Y/N, stay down!” Yelena shouts.

You furrowed your eyebrows in confusion and looked in front of you, seeing a truck flying towards you. Your eyes went wide and your body froze. Your mind was telling you to get up and run, but your body wasn’t reacting. All you could do was cover your head and hope the truck didn’t squash you. That’s when you heard the sound of vibranium colliding with metal. You uncovered your head and looked up to see Bucky standing in front of you and the truck landing behind you. It didn’t take you long to realize that Bucky stopped the truck front hitting you with his vibranium arm. Bucky turned around and looked down at you. He crouched down in front of you and gave you a hug.

“Are you ok?” Bucky asks softly.

You were too in shock to answer him. Bucky unwrapped his arms from your body and checked you out for any injuries. You were fine, besides the cut you have on your forehead and the scrape you have on your knee.

“Why do you have that look on your face?” You asked him when you watched his facial expression change from a softened look to a worried look.

“You have a cut on your forehead and a scraped knee.” Bucky tells you.

You looked down at your knee, noticing a little bit of blood and your tactical pants ripped due to you scraping your knee. You assumed that was from when you got tackled to the ground not too long ago. You put a hand on your forehead, feeling some blood when you touched the cut. You took your hand away from your forehead and looked at your hand. Your eyes went wide when you seen the blood.

“I’m bleeding.” You say, beginning to panic.

“Hey, focus on me.” Bucky cupped your cheeks to get you to look at him. “You’re going to be fine, doll. I’m going to patch you up and you’ll be good as new.” He promises.

You stared in his blue eyes and nodded your head. Bucky picked you up bridal style and took you inside of a building to get you patched up. He sat you down on a chair and went to find a first aid kit, which he found with ease. When he came back, he pulled up a chair and sat down in front of you. He started with the scrape on your knee and put your leg across his lap.

“That’s going to sting.” You whimpered softly, watching him put some alcohol on a cotton ball.

“You can hold onto me if you want.” Bucky says.

You put one of your hands on his vibranium shoulder, preparing yourself for the stinging you’re about to feel on your knee. You hissed and winced when you felt the alcohol in the scrape, your nails digging in his black t-shirt. As Bucky was patching you up, realization hit you and your eyes went wide.

“What’s wrong, doll?” Bucky asks softly with concern in his voice.

“That truck could’ve crushed me.” You say, still in shock.

“But it didn’t.” He says.

“What if it did?” You asked, thinking the worst.

Your mind was making you think the worst. Bucky stopped patching you up momentarily to gently cup your cheeks, getting you to look in his blue eyes.

“Hey, no. Don’t go there.” Bucky coos softly. “I stopped the truck from hitting you. I kept you safe.” He says.

Bucky kissed your forehead softly before going back to patching you up. You couldn’t help but watch him.

“Something on your pretty little mind, doll?” Bucky asks, not looking up from your scraped knee.

You didn’t say anything. Bucky stopped what he was doing when you gently caressed his bearded cheek and looked up at you. Before either of you knew it, your lips were on his. He was caught by surprise, but kissed you back. It took you a few seconds to realize what you were doing and pulled your lips away from his.

“Oh my god! I’m so sorry!” You quickly apologized. “I didn’t mean to do that.” You say, feeling your cheeks heat up in embarrassment.

“Why are you apologizing?” Bucky asks.

“Cause I kissed you.” You say.

You were caught by surprise when Bucky kissed you softly. You two were so into the kiss that you guys didn’t hear Yelena walk in the room.

“Are you- oh, sorry.” Yelena apologizes, accidentally walking in on you and Bucky kissing.

You and Bucky quickly pulled away from each other and looked at Yelena with the look of embarrassment on your faces.

“I was gonna ask if Y/N is ok, but you two are clearly busy. I’ll come back later.” She says before walking out of the room.

You and Bucky bursted out laughing. You leaned your forehead against his shoulder.

“That wasn’t our finest moment.” Bucky says.

“Agreed.” You say, leaning your forehead against his shoulder.

After the little awkward moment, Bucky went back to patching you up, which didn’t take too long.

“There you go.” Bucky smiles. “See, I told you’d be good as new after you’re patched up.” He says, lighting up the mood.

“Thank you, Bucky.” You smiled up at him.

“You’re welcome, doll.” He says.

“Also, thank you for saving me from that truck almost hitting me.” You say.

“You don’t have to thank me, babydoll. I just want you to be protected.” He says softly, kissing your forehead, making you smile.

“If that person protecting me is you, I’ll be so protected.” You say, smiling up at him.

“I feel honored to be that person.” Bucky says, smiling back.

🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵

-Bucky’s Doll

[theflowerrooms]

i have a request (hopefully for some smut) 🙈 youve met Eddie because he was your exs dealer! You want to cop on your own but your shy and don’t know what your doing!

you lost your V card to your ex, and he was a selfish asshole to you, and Eddie could always tell

PLEASEEE and thank You 🥰

{to request} {Eddie’s masterlist} {main masterlist}

Treat you right

Eddie Munson x inexperienced!reader

Summary: you buy weed and smoke it with Eddie for the first time, he doesn’t know you but he knows your ex. He knows how bad he was and he knows how good he could be for you.

wordcount:

Warnings: drug use, smut, cursing, pet names, penetrative sex, oral (f receiving), praise, Eddie’s super sweet but also super cocky, dacryphilia, marking, slight dubcon? they’re both high

Thank you so much for requesting baby <3 I loved writing this sm

You exhaled shakily. Phone in one hand and a piece of paper with a number and Eddie’s last name written sloppily across it. You got lucky, your boyfriend- ex boyfriend Andrew left his dealer’s number on your bedside table. You’d met Eddie on multiple occasions, you really liked him. He was sweet, funny, respectful, incredibly charming. You reminded yourself that as you nervously dialled his number.

“Hello? Munson residence.” You heard his boyish voice from the other side of the line and already you were smiling to yourself.

“Hey Eddie, um, this is-” He cut you off. “I know who this is doll, I could never forget a voice as sweet as yours. What can I do for you?” He chimed and you giggled, blushing.

Andrew really sucked, he never spoke to you so sweet.

You chewed your lip as you tried to form a sentence in your head that wouldn't embarrass yourself. "Um- I'm not really sure what I'm supposed to say. I'd really like to buy from you, please." You spoke, careful with your words so you wouldn't sound like a complete idiot.

"Awe- y'calling for Andrew?" He asked, as if it wasn't obvious enough that you didn't know what you were doing.

"No- no, um, we broke up a little while ago he uh..." You trailed off, you didn't wanna over share and annoy Eddie. "He left your number at my house and I figured, y'know, I wanna buy some weed- please." You tried and failed to hold in your nervous giggle, you couldn't hear him smiling on the other side of the line at how cute he found you.

"Alright doll, tell you what. Since it's your first time buying from me I'll give you a pretty big discount, just let me know when you're free... and you can meet me, hm?" He offered, voice grainy through the phone.

You nodded, "Sure! I'm free whenever, um, where do you want me to meet you?"

✽-

  The air was chillier than you'd expected, you suddenly regretted forgoing a jacket, and wearing a skirt. You tapped your nails softly against the picnic table where Eddie had asked to meet. You were a bit early, but you didn't mind waiting, and you definitely didn't want to leave him waiting, so you didn't mind sitting there.

  You shivered, and then startled, squeaking as Eddie came up behind you, quiet as ever, and placed his jacket over your shoulders. You blushed and he grinned, rounding the table to sit across from you.

  "Fancy seeing you here, sorry for spookin' you doll." His smile didn't leave his face. The metal of his lunchbox clanged as he put it between you two on the table before opening it. "So. Do you just want what I usually gave to you guys?" He asked, eyes kind and welcoming. You never understood the things you heard people say about Eddie, the things Andrew said about him behind his back.

  "Um..." You trailed off, blushing again. Of course because you always went with your ex to buy weed from Eddie, he'd assumed you smoked it with Andrew. "How- how much did Andrew get usually?"

  You tilted your head and he tilted his in return. "You didn't smoke with him?" He asked and you shook your head. "Have you smoked ever?" You shook your head again.

  "Andrew never let me smoke his stuff. Told me if I wanted to smoke with him I had to find my own dealer, get my own weed." You chewed your lip anxiously as you explained. "And the only people I knew who sell it are you and Tommy Hagan. I don't trust Tommy so..." Eddie nodded, following along as you spoke.

  "And you trust me?" He asked, a lilt of surprise in his tone. You nodded and he smiled. "Well. My van is parked just down that trail over there, let's get out of the cold, hm?"

✽-

  You laughed loudly as Eddie tried, and failed to blow rings with the smoke he exhaled from his joint. You'd never been high before now, and you were loving it. Eddie coached you through it, showed you how to take a hit off of the joint, held it to your lips as you took your first inhale, then rubbing your back through the coughing fit it induced. He even let you drink his water when your throat grew dry.

  Now you sat across from him in the back of his van leaning against the cool metal wall. Your laugh triggered Eddie's laugh and you both doubled over in an intense fit of giggles.

  "I never understood why Andrew laughed so much when he got high." You giggled through your words, you understood now.

  Eddie laughed in response. He coughed and reached out grabbing your ankle, "What uh- what happened with Andrew? Not that it's any of my business but uh- I don't know. I'm nosey." He laughed, straightening himself as he awaited your response.

  You chuckled bitterly under your breath at the thought of your break up. "He sucked at sharing his weed but um, he was great at sharing his time, and his attention... his dick." You snickered and grimaced, watching Eddie's face match yours.

  He scoffed and leaned his head against his shoulder. "That's awful. I'm sorry- what an idiot." He squeezed your ankle in his hand. "I don't see how he could ever hurt you like that... take you for granted like that." He sighed.

  His words had you blushing. "Yeah well, it's okay, I'm mostly over it.  I know that there are other guys out there- better guys." You made eye contact with Eddie for the first time that night, and suddenly the energy of the whole night changed.

  He nodded slowly, mouth just slightly agape. You'd noticed how pretty Eddie was long before you and Andrew broke up. It was silent for a moment, Eddie's hand moved from your ankle to your calf, long fingers wrapping around the underside of it, thumb stroking your skin. "Yeah... there are plenty of guys out there who'll treat you better. You deserve to be treated right." He proclaimed, tongue darting out to wet his bottom lip. Your throat went dry.

  Your legs relaxed, inching apart, calf resting fully in his hand. "I wanna be treated right." Your voice sounded so small and shy. You'd blame it on the weed.

  Eddie's eyebrows rose slightly his pupils wide and eyes glossy. "Let me treat you right." His voice was both domineering and pleading all in one and it filled you with a blooming heat.

  You couldn't find your words, just nodding eagerly, desperately. He didn't hesitate to move onto his knees, leaning over you and gently pulling you to meet his lips by your chin. His lips were warm against yours, you basked in it.

  His tongue glided over your bottom lip, waiting for you to part your lips before he entered them. It was a beautiful contrast compared to how Andrew would just shove his tongue in your mouth before you were ready, or willing.

One of your hands rested on the back of Eddie's neck lightly, holding him close to you while your other hand gently stroked his jaw. His hands found refuge on your thighs, holding the backs of them gently as he maneuvered his way between them. He didn't grind against you or anything, just kissed you, with his thumbs dragging tenderly against the goosebump ridden skin of your legs that were pressing against his hips. He was only willing to go at your pace, which you appreciated.

  He kissed you until your hips bucked up slightly, panty-covered clit bumping against the bulge in his jeans. The whimper you let out encouraged him to push his hips down to meet yours, he could feel your heat through the denim between you two.

  With the feeling of him rubbing against you, your let your head fall back as you whined softly. The sweet sounds you let out had his cock throbbing, and he soon found himself mouthing at the sensitive skin at your neck. "It okay if I leave marks?" He asked, his voice was dark but his words were kind, and you knew he'd listen if you said no. You also knew that you'd let him do anything to you if he kept making you feel good like this.

  "Yes-" and like that, you could feel him pull the skin below your pulse point past his lips, sucking there softly until he released your skin from his mouth and peppered kisses around it.

  You sighed at the cool air on your slick skin, you sighed as he continued kissing down your neck, sucking another mark just above the collar of your shirt. You looked forward to seeing the bruises he'd leave behind.

  You could feel his breath against your collarbone, his hands moving from your thighs to your waist, thumb playing with the hem of your shirt. Before he could even ask you to, you pulled back from him and pulled your shirt off.

He let out a heavy exhale as his eyes fell on your chest, his fingers twitching beside you. “You can take it off.” You spoke shyly, referring to your lace bralette. Your cheeks burned as you felt Eddie’s hand glide up your back, it only took a few seconds before you felt the clasp open and he was helping you remove your bra.

As your bralette fell to the floor of floor of his van next to your shirt, you heard Eddie’s breath hitch. “You are so damn beautiful.” Your heart was racing at his words, racing at how sincere he sounded. You weren’t used to this kind of attention and you were thriving from it

Quickly, Eddie’s tongue found your chest, flicking over your right nipple before he closed his lips around it, sucking softly. His fingers found your other nipple, gently pinching and rolling it until it hardened. The new sensation had your back arching, pushing yourself against him more. Eddie loved the noises you were making because of him, for him.

Eddie’s mouth left a trail of kisses from your breast and down your stomach. His bottom lip pressed against the band of your skirt and he held the fabric between his fingers. “Can I take this off of you darling?” He asked as he tugged lightly. You nodded your head but he didn’t move, “Words, baby.” He encouraged you to speak.

“Yes, please.” Your voice wavered with both nervousness and excitement. The eager smile on his face before he pulled your skirt down had your heart racing and your cunt throbbing.

When he pulled your skirt down, your panties came unexpectedly with them, you weren’t sure if it was intentional or not but neither you nor Eddie were complaining. What you really didn’t expect, was the audible moan Eddie let out at the sight of your naked body.

You began to sit up slightly, assuming Eddie would want you to ride him, but before you could get up all the way, Eddie was already laying between your legs, hands on your thighs. “What are you doing?” You asked softly and he tilted his head in confusion, tearing his eyes away from your cunt to meet your gaze.

He pressed a sweet kiss to your thigh. “I wanna taste you, that okay?” He asked, his eyes were blown out with lust, cheeks flushed red from arousal; still you knew he wouldn’t go any further if you told him it wasn’t okay.

“Taste me?” You asked, you weren’t sure what he meant. He smirked kindly, another kiss to your thigh. You were grateful he didn’t make you feel embarrassed for not knowing what that meant.

He inched closer to you, you could feel his breath against your opening and it made you dizzy. “I wanna taste your sweet pussy darling, make you feel good. I want you to cum on my mouth sweetheart.” He rasped, laying his head against your thigh. “What? Andrew never use his mouth on you pretty girl?” He was joking, but was both disappointed and pleased when you nodded your head, confirming his statement. He was disappointed that a gorgeous girl like you hasn’t experienced that before, but he was beyond pleased that he would be the first one to get to taste you. If he played his cards right, he’d be the only one.

You spread your legs for Eddie and relaxed back, his large palm squeezed your thighs as he held them open and immediately caught your clit in his mouth, sucking it gently, flicking his tongue over it, forcing moan after moan from your lips.

Andrew had never gone down on you before, despite the fact that you’d gone down on him every time he’d ask or even just every time you felt like making him feel good. He’d never return the favour however. You didn’t spend much time thinking about that- or any time at all. All you we’re capable of focusing on was Eddie and how good he made you feel.

Eddie thrusted his hips against the ground, sucking harder on your clit and moaning against it. Your thighs shook against your hand and you couldn’t speak. You wanted to tell him how good you felt, you wanted to let him know how good he was doing, but all you could manage was to moan and whine as you felt your stomach get tight.

He moved his hand off of your thigh and pushed two fingers inside of you slowly. There was a small stretch, but it didn’t hurt, if anything it felt fantastic.

He wanted to fuck you tonight, and so he’d make sure you were ready to take him, he didn’t want you hurting. Simultaneously, he sucked on your clit and pushed his fingers repeatedly against your g-spot. He revelled in the sensation of you clenching down on his fingers. He looked up at you from between your legs, your stomach flexing and your eyebrows pinched together as you moaned, his cock leaked precum into his boxers.

“Eddie-” you yelped his name, hips jumping and pressing down against his mouth. You could feel an impending orgasm, and you anticipated it with excitement. You’d never had an orgasm given to you by someone else.

He could feel you getting closer, he moaned loudly against your clit and you moaned even louder than him, yelling his name as you came. Your thighs shook and your hands found purchase in his hair, tugging lightly as your eyes teared up from searing hot pleasure.

Eddie rubbed your clit slowly as you came down from your orgasm. He moved up, peppering kisses over your cheeks until you came back to yourself, giggling. “I wanna see you, please.” You whispered, tugging lightly at his shirt.

He nodded, “Anything for you.” He had a sing-song tone that made you smile, and you watched hungrily as he pulled his shirt off. You didn’t have much time to admire his toned body, pretty tattoos, you were distracted almost immediately by the sound of his belt buckle.

Soon, you and Eddie were both naked in the back of his van, the windows of which were already growing steamy.

He leaned back over you and kissed you sloppily, hips slotting between your legs once again, only this time no clothes were separating you. “You gonna let me take care of you baby? Show you what it’s like to get fucked by someone who knows how to make a girl feel as good as she deserves?” He nudged his nose against yours, you were growing dizzy with lust and need for him.

You threw your head back as you felt the weight of Eddie’s cock slide against your soaking wet cunt. “Yes, please- please fuck me Eddie.” He loved the way your voice shook.

Within seconds, his balls were pressed flush against you, cock deep inside, you swore you could feel him in your stomach. He was both thicker and longer than Andrew, not by much, but still the difference was enough to have you sputtering.

“Oh god-” You moaned loudly, nails digging into Eddie’s shoulders as he began to fuck you.

He only laughed softly, “Close, it’s actually Eddie.” He teased, kissing your jaw as he hiked your legs up to rest on his hips as he fucked you harder, perfectly hitting your g-spot with every thrust.

You reached down to rub your clit but Eddie knocked your hand away with his own, rubbing it for you. He grinned wickedly at your broken moan, cock throbbing inside you at the sight of the thick tears pouring down your face. “Poor girl, so sweet and messy. Ever been fucked like this before? Andrew fuck you this good?” He asked.

You could only shake your head and cry for a moment before you found your words. “Never- never been fucked this good. You’re- you’re so g-good, Eddie.” You moaned, cunt clamping down on his cock.

Each of you were both growing closer, your hands and legs shaking, Eddie’s hips stuttered and his thrusts grew sloppy. His head fell down to your shoulder and you rested your cheek against his hair. “Cum inside me, p-please.” You whimpered.

He moaned in response, his orgasm hitting him like a freight train. The feeling of him cumming inside you and playing with your clit had you arching your back and screaming his name.

You both rested in the back of his van for a while, just holding each other. Heavy breathing, sweat slicked skin, and gentle kisses. “Thank you.” You whispered.

“Thank you.” He answered immediately. “I’m sorry he didn’t take care of you the way you deserve.” He kissed you again.

After you both got dressed again, you grew shy, and Eddie only found it endearing pulling the smile from you that he desperately wanted to see. “I’ll give you a ride home doll, ‘n when you need, or want anything, you give me a call.”

Of course you agreed, thanked him. And as he drove you home and you stared at him with hearts in his eyes, you were so grateful for Andrew. Grateful for him leaving Eddie’s number at your house.

[thewadapan]

So why did Transformers One bomb?

Look, I'm just going to say it right off the bat: no, Transformers One is not the best Transformers movie of all time. I am (gritting my teeth) very happy for every single Transformers fan except me, who all seem to have liked it, and most of whom seem to have loved it. I agree that, as a production, it meets some baseline level of technical competence. It's a perfectly fine movie.

It's also the worst-performing Transformers movie Paramount has ever made.

Hopefully, now that its theatrical run has unceremoniously ended, people aren't going to try to rip me to shreds for theoretically threatening this multi-million-dollar film's box office revenue some miniscule amount by sharing a few teensy weensy complaints with my fifty followers.

Because I do just have a few little nitpicks, which I've tried my best to communicate, over the next 17,000 words of this post.

If you're not a Transformers fan, sorry, this essay is mostly written with the assumption that you've seen Transformers One. However, it might still be of some interest as a window into the current state of the franchise. I've written a basic plot summary of the movie to bring you up to speed, in that case. Because Transformers One purports to be the perfect introduction to the story, no homework needed, I've also done you the courtesy of elucidating background context as needed—think of this less as a review, and more as a history lesson, or maybe a "lore explained" YouTube video. After all, that's pretty much all that Transformers One is.

(And if farcically long posts aren't really your thing, you might prefer to listen to the special episode of Our Worlds are in Danger where my pals and I chatted about the film. Many of the hottest takes and silliest bits in this essay are shamelessly stolen from Jo and Umar.)

We've been waiting for Transformers One for a very long time. It's the first animated Transformers film to get a theatrical release since The Transformers: The Movie came out in 1986. It first entered development around a decade ago. Many fandom members I know online got to see it as far back as June. Its US premiere was in September; those of us in the UK had to wait a full extra month before seeing it, for no clear reason. This is a film which purports to show, in broad strokes, for the first time on the big screen, the origin of the Transformers: where they come from, who they are, and why they're fighting.

By the end of its runtime, Transformers One does not actually answer these questions. Don't get me wrong, it takes great pains trying to answer a lot of different, related questions—just ones which nobody was really asking in the first place: What does the word "Autobots" mean, if not "automobile robots"? What does the word "Decepticons" mean, if they're not actually deceitful? Why is he called "Optimus Prime"? Why is he called "Megatron"? If they were friends, why did they fall out? Why does Starscream sound Like That? Where does Energon come from? If "Prime" is a title, what were the other Primes like? How do Transformers transform?

Writer Eric Pearson, coming onto the project as an outsider to Transformers, describes having to go to Hasbro to ask these kinds of questions:

they had a script that outlined the story that they wanted to tell. I knew Optimus Prime and Megatron and I knew Bumblebee as well, or B. I had to ask about some of the other deeper ones, the mythology, “what exactly is the Matrix of Leadership?” Stuff like that.

See, Hasbro does in fact have the answers written down somewhere. The story as I understand it goes something like this. During the wild west of the '80s and '90s, Transformers "canon" was largely a by-the-seat-of-your-pants consensus-based affair between the freelance writers and copywriters the toy company would bring on to advertise their toys. That changed around the turn of the millennium, when late later-CEO Brian Goldner saw how Hasbro's licensed IP lines (such as Star Wars) were more financially successful and realised they could make more money by aggressively promoting their own in-house IP, which they didn't have to pay licensing fees for. (For the curious, a similar thought process at rival toy company Lego was what led to their creation of BIONICLE.)

The guy basically singlehandedly managing the Transformers brand at the time, Aaron Archer, eventually set to reconciling all the self-contradictory lore surrounding Transformers, an endeavour which dovetailed into the creation of the HasLab internal think-tank (best known for Battleship, the 2012 store-brand Michael Bay knockoff which was a failure critically and commercially but not in my heart) and ultimately the creation of the so-called "Binder of Revelation", an internal story bible which cost over $250,000 to produce and has strongly influenced nigh on every piece of Transformers media released since, but which we hadn't actually seen until it got leaked a week ago. As it turns out, the document itself (compiled mostly by marketers and toy designers) is patently useless to any writer: it's a typo-ridden internally-inconsistent wishy-washy mess that mostly describes the characters in terms of a made-up form of Transformers astrology that has otherwise never seen the light of day.

So although the Binder is the baseline story bible for most modern Transformers media, its influence isn't direct per se; it's more accurate to describe it as being an elaborate game of telephone between high-profile cartoons, comics, and other internal documents, with the Binder itself apparently just sitting in a drawer somewhere at Hasbro; Eric Pearson says that he never received a "binder", with the "script" he mentions either being the earlier draft from Andrew Barrer and Gabriel Ferrari (the guys who originally pitched the story), or some other unseen internal document. Director Josh Cooley, however, definitely seems to have been physically handed the Binder or its mass-market adaptation:

I knew that there was a lot of origin to be told, and when I first started, [Hasbro] gave me the Transformers Bible. I could not believe how big it was. I was like, "This is way more than I ever anticipated."

When trailers first dropped for Transformers One, a lot of my friends who are savvy were immediately like: "Oh, this is a weirdly faithful adaptation of the Binder of Revelation, huh."

I. The One True Origin of the Transformers

Half of the people reading this are Transformers fans, and half of you literally could not give less of a shit about Transformers, so if you're in the 'former group (so to speak), you'll just have to bear with me while I bring the rest of us up to speed.

Before the Transformers' civil war begins, Cybertron is being oppressed by the Quintessons. The Quintessons are a race of five-faced aliens (as in, not Transformers), who execute everyone they come across, first introduced in The Transformers: The Movie, presiding over a kangaroo court on a castaway world. In the followup cartoon five-parter "Five Faces of Darkness", writer Flint Dille established that, gasp, they were actually the original creators of the Transformers! But basically nobody else at the time was particularly compelled by this idea, it seems, with most fans preferring the more mythological origin story conceived by Bri'ish writer Simon Furman for the Marvel comics. I think people kind of just didn't like to think of the Transformers as being robots—mass-produced, a fabrication, programmed—as opposed to an alien race of thinking, feeling beings like us. But because the cartoon was important to many kids, a lot of early-2000s media tried to reconcile the cartoon and comic origin stories by stating that the Quintessons didn't actually create the Transformers; rather, they simply colonised the planet early in its history and pretended to be the Transformers' creators, until the truth came out and they got kicked offworld. This is how the Binder of Revelation ultimately paid lip service to the Quintessons. In Transformers One, the Quintessons are just sort of here, they're these evil aliens secretly skimming Energon from its miners, they don't speak English (or whichever language the film was dubbed into in your market region), they're just these nasty societal parasites.

Energon is Transformers fuel. In the original cartoon, it was these glowing pink cubes the Decepticons were always trying to produce using harebrained Saturday-morning-cartoon energy-stealing devices. There was a Cold War going on, America had just been through an "energy crisis", maybe you're old enough to remember any of that. Transformers are these big, complicated machines, so I guess the idea is they need this hyper-compressed superfuel to run off, and their homeworld has run out. By the time of the Binder of Revelation, the concept had been telephoned to the point where Energon is like the lifeblood of Primus or some shit.

Primus is the Transformers God—but not the kind of God you have "faith" in, rather this actual guy whose existence is objectively known in various ways. He transforms into a planet, that's kind of cool, right? Where does Primus come from? Look, it doesn't matter, he's like, the God of Creation, he was there at the start of time. He created all of the Transformers. All the other species in the galaxy, though, they evolved naturally thanks to "science". Actually wait, didn't that Quintus Prime guy go around the universe seeding all the planets with different kinds of Cybertronian life? That's why they're called Quintessons. See, now you know. Who's Quintus Prime?

Okay, so the Thirteen Original Transformers, or the Primes, are the thirteen original Transformers created by Primus. Most of them correspond to different kinds of Transformer: Nexus Prime is the god of Transformers who can combine, Onyx Prime is the god of Transformers who turn into animals, Micronus Prime is the god of Transformers who are small, and Solus Prime is the god of Transformers who are women. You might remember the Primes from Revenge of the Fallen, although there were only seven of them there for whatever reason.

Honestly, The Fallen was the only one who mattered for a long time. The whole reason there's thirteen of them is because thirteen is kind of an unlucky number, right? Twelve would've been fine. But throw in a thirteenth guy, and he betrays everyone, he's this fucked up evil guy. In the Binder of Revelation, though, the Thirteenth Prime is his own special guy shrouded in mystery, because they kind of liked the idea that Optimus Prime would secretly turn out to have been the Thirteenth Prime all along, and he just forgot or something, because that means he has the divine right of Primes. In IDW's 2010s comic-book reboot, the Thirteenth Prime was called "The Arisen"—in reference to that one line in The Transformers: The Movie, "Arise, Rodimus Prime!" (this margin is too narrow to explain who Rodimus Prime is). Towards the end of his run, writer John Barber did some actually interesting stuff with the concept, playing with the ambiguity over whether-or-not Optimus Prime was actually the chosen one.

All of Optimus Prime's immediate predecessors as Autobot leaders, Sentinel Prime, Zeta Prime, the lineage seen in "Five Faces of Darkness"... they're all false Primes. They're Primes in name only. In fact, IDW had a whole procession of these cartoonishly evil dictators thanks to a few continuity errors leading to the addition of a couple of extra narratively-redundant fuckers. Transformers One tries to simplify it slightly by just saying that Zeta Prime was one of the Primes for real—occupying that thirteenth "free space"—and it was just Sentinel Prime who was only a normal Transformer pretending to be a Prime, then Optimus Prime who's a real boy.

But if he's not a Prime from the start, Optimus Prime needs another name in the meantime. In the '80s cartoon episode "War Dawn", before he was called Optimus Prime, he was called "Orion Pax". Have you noticed that Optimus Prime is kind of an odd-one-out amongst all the straightup-English-word names like "Bumblebee" and "Ratchet" and "Jazz"? That's because his name was one of a tiny handful from very early in the franchise's development, before writer Bob Budiansky came onboard and came up with identities for the vast majority of the toys. Practically everyone Bob Budiansky named is called like, "Bolts" or some shit, long before the characters even know of Earth, which has always just been a contrivance of the setting you're not supposed to think about.

Presumably to create a parallel with Orion Pax's transformation into Optimus Prime, someone at Hasbro in the 2010s came up with a new name for the bot who would become Megatron: "D-16". In real-world terms, this was nothing more than a dorky reference to the Megatron toy's original Japanese release being number 16 in the line ("D" stands for "Destron", which is what they call Decepticons in Japan). But in-universe, the name "D-16" was drawn from the sector of the mine where he worked. I don't get the impression it was originally intended to be part of a broader pattern.

Which is why I'm baffled as to what the hell the reasoning was behind Bumblebee's pre-Earth name, "B-127". There's this bizarre situation in the Bumblebee film, where the name "B-127" first cropped up, where literally every other bot gets a normal cool name with personality like "Cliffjumper" or "Dropkick" except for Bumblebee, who is stuck with this clunky sci-fi name until he makes friends with a human teenager on Earth and she gives him the name Bumblebee. I guess I don't find it confusing that the writers would (correctly) realise it's a bit weird for Bumblebee to be called Bumblebee on an alien planet where bumblebees don't exist. What I find confusing is that they didn't extend that logic to any other character.

So despite everything else in the franchise's direction pointing away from "robot" and towards "alien", Transformers One ends up with this ridiculous situation where two of the most important guys are, for practically the whole movie, simply referred to as "Dee" and "Bee", I guess because the writers correctly realised the numbers sound fucking stupid.

And if you squint, "Elita-1" sorta fits this naming scheme. But the great irony of it is that the very same cartoon episode which coined "Orion Pax" simultaneously established that Elita-1 also used to go by a different name: "Ariel"! Like the Little Mermaid. Y'know, because an "aerial" is a type of electrical component- oh, forget it.

By the time the script made it into Eric Pearson's hands, it's obvious that he simply was not thinking about it that deeply. He describes the genesis of a scene where Bumblebee introduces his imaginary friends, "A-atron, EP 5-0-8, and Steve." A-atron was impov'd by Keegan-Michael Key as a reference to one of his own skits on Key & Peele. Steve ("He's foreign.") was literally just because Pearson thought it would be funny. It's true that Steve is an inherently funny name, and I guess if you're struggling to come up with jokes of your own, it can be handy to fall back on something which is inherently funny.

And again, our silly answers to these silly questions beget yet more questions. If he started out as "D-16", then where did the name "Megatron" come from? And if all the Primes have epic made-up fantasy names, then surely that one guy can't just be called "The Fallen", right? That's not a name, that's an epithet. Unfortunately, someone at Hasbro had the bright idea to answer both these questions at once: The Fallen's real name was "Megatronus". Later, for consistency, they threw on the title, and we get "Megatronus Prime", which sounds like what a thirteen-year-old on deviantART in 2014 would call their Steven Universe fusion of Megatron and Optimus Prime. So you see, Megatron actually named himself after Megatronus Prime, famously the most evil of the Primes. In Transformers One, this is changed slightly so Megatronus is merely the strongest of the Primes, as part of its overall effort to make Megatron not look completely insane.

Which, it must be said, is a tall order. Better stories have tried and failed. Back in 2007, Scottish writer Eric Holmes came up with Megatron Origin, a perfectly-fine comic miniseries which drew heavily from the miners' strikes that took place in the UK from 1984-1985, coinciding with the inception of the Transformers franchise. In that comic, Megatron is a lowly miner who, through a series of chance events, winds up at the head of a dangerous political revolutionary movement.

For some reason—I guess because nobody had ever tried to make Megatron anything other than a bloodthirsty cackling madman before—this take on Megatron as a guy who rose up against a corrupt system became the defining interpretation of the character, copy/pasted pretty much wholesale into the Binder of Revelation. Orion Pax also opposes the system, and bonds with Megatron over it, but they disagree on how to fix it: Pax believes in peaceful reform, Megatron just loves to kill. In Transformers One, the problem everyone has with Megatron is basically "whoa, this guy's a little TOO angry!" and there's a point towards the end of the film where Megatron suddenly starts jonesing to kill literally anyone who stands in his way, because he's irrationally angry.

The core problem here—and it's kind of the Magneto problem, the Killmonger problem, whatever better-known example you care to insert here—is that these guys all fundamentally exist just to be a big villain who loves to kill people and who ultimately gets defeated, but the kids who grew up on this stuff in the '80s are now adults who are no longer satisfied with cardboard cutout villains. People like a complex villain, they like a villain who has a point. They like to root for both sides. And in fact, it's easier to sell more toys to people who are rooting for both sides, if your villain is just another kind of hero. But you don't really need to take the same effort with the good guys: they're good by design, righteous by nature. They don't need to stand for something, they just need to stand against the guy whose whole thing is that he loves to kill people.

But again, we're starting from a place where the evil faction—who half the planet will ultimately align themselves with—are literally called "Decepticons". It's a name you'd only ever call yourself ironically, maybe reclaiming it from your enemies. In this film, there's some tortured logic that implies they're called Decepticons because they were deceived by Sentinel Prime. Like if you met a gang of guys who call themselves "The Robbers", but it turns out to be because they got robbed one time, and they actually have zero intention of stealing from anyone.

The Autobots are easier, of course. "Auto" is a prefix that just means, like, the self, or whatever. And the most agreeably American ideal of all is selfishness the power of the individual, the freedom to seize one's own destiny. Prime's original '80s motto, "Freedom is the right of all sentient beings," is bastardised in Transformers One into the slightly less rolls-out-off-the-tongue "Freedom and autonomy are the rights of all sentient beings," because (I can only assume) they forgot to work the word "autonomy" earlier into the script. If they ever greenlit Transformers Three, I suppose the motto would have ended up as something like "Freedom, autonomy, ruthless efficiency, and an almost fanatical devotion to the Pope are the rights of all sentient beings." Even though bodily autonomy is one of the most salient motifs present in the film—all but referred to by name—I suppose the filmmakers were worried that you might think, when Prime says "freedom", that he actually means something completely different. So now you see! "Autobots" is actually the descriptive name of a political movement which believes in obviously good things. Like "Moms for Liberty".

Okay, so the cannier among you have probably spotted the mean rhetorical trick I'm pulling with this encyclopedia-entry-ass introduction. By sarcastically relitigating all the storytelling choices I dislike from the last 20 years of Transformers lore, I can build up a negative association with Transformers One without even reviewing the movie itself! On a subtextual level, I'm deliberately misattributing these bad ideas to the filmmakers, conveniently ignoring the mountains of evidence to suggest that they were just trying to make the best of whatever Hasbro handed them from on high. If anything—you might think—the filmmakers deserve even more credit, for spinning this shite into something even remotely good on the big screen.

Like, you'd be wrong, but I can see why you might think that.

II. The Spider-Verse of Transformers

Okay, I can see that I've spat in your soup. I'm sorry. There are lots of good bits in Transformers One. I can even think of one or two of them off the top of my head, without really racking my brains.

Maybe halfway through the film, there is one specific moment where the story suddenly promises to get good. You can pinpoint it down to the word, down to the frame even. Our heroes have just discovered that their planet's leader, Sentinel Prime, is a complete fraud who's been secretly exploiting them ever since they were born—and worse, castrated them by removing their transformation cogs. They are all very cross about this. Orion Pax expresses that he wants to come up with a plan to expose Sentinel Prime. Megatron is too angry to listen. Orion Pax asks, "Don't you want to stop him?" And Megatron replies, "No, I want to KILL him!" And there's like, a little tint of red creeping into the glow of his eyes.

Whoa. Chills. Up to this point in the film, Megatron has been kind of surly at times, but he's otherwise a generic kids' movie protagonist. He's often chipper. He makes quips. He has this banter with Orion Pax where he's always complaining. It's literally that one "Optimist Prime"/"Negatron" comic, committed to film. Like I'm not even being facetious, one of the film's few obligatory "emotional moments" has Elita-1 sit Orion Pax down and say, "You know what I love about you? You always see the bright side. Like you're some kind of OPTIMIST or something." And then later completely unrelatedly God gives him the mandate of heaven and says "ARISE, OPTIMUS PRIME!" Y'see, as originally conceived, "Optimus" is the word "Optimum" if it was a name, which is why people sometimes localise his name as "Best #1". But it's genuinely kind of cute to reverse-engineer the etymology as coming from "optimist", I guess. Like, it's stupid, but it's cute.

Argh, I got distracted with naming minutia again! Entirely my bad. That's the last time, I promise. Where was I? Right, we'd just found out that Megatron is kind of scary. Brian Tyree Henry's line delivery as he growls "KILL" is his crowning achievement in this film.

Where Optimus Prime's character arc in this movie sees him change from a funny, rebellious spirit to a complete personality vacuum, Megatron's character arc is kind of the opposite. When we're first introduced to him, it's weirdly hard to get a handle on who he is. He's a fanboy for Megatronus, the strongest and most morally-unremarkable of the Primes. He looks up to Sentinel Prime. He likes sports. He doesn't like breaking the rules. In fact, we get the sense that, were it not for his friendship with Orion Pax, he would be literally indistinguishable from the legion of silent crowd-filling background characters he works with. But the moment he starts to become Megatron, it's like everything starts to click. Gears catch, where once they ground and idled. There is something in this guy that was made to fight, made to kill, made to rule. It's sick.

And the underlying tension in his friendship with Optimus suddenly snaps into focus. Megatron is mad at Sentinel Prime, but Sentinel Prime isn't there, he's somewhere else, far below... and he can't help but turn that anger on the next closest thing to an authority figure he has in his life, which is his peer-pressuring bestie, Orion Pax. There is a part of Megatron that wishes he'd never learned the truth, and he blames Orion Pax for his cursed knowledge, for constantly leading them into predicaments on his stupid flights of fancy. Now that he knows, he can't go back to how he was. He can't stop thinking about it.

I'll be honest, it rules. Obviously it rules. It's complicated and toxic and darker than this movie was marketed to be. In interview, Josh Cooley describes the draft of the script he was presented with when he joined the project as having been far more jokey, light-hearted, glib—and it seems we can credit him for saying "Look, this ain't right, the minute the credits roll these guys are going to be at civil war for millions of years."

So, they started talking about it in — what did you say, 2015? I came on board in 2020, and when I came on board there was the first draft of the script. So I don't think they'd been working on it that entire time, but they'd been thinking about it, for sure. And the script that I read was a little more comical? But it was clear that that wasn't the right tone for this film specifically, because we know there's gonna be a war, civil war on Cybertron, you can't have everybody making jokes and then all of a sudden there's a war. So, um, the stakes were really important for this film. And because our characters at the beginning are a little naive, and just on the younger side, not as experienced, it allowed more freedom for them to be a little looser and have fun really getting to know these characters. But once they realize something's going on and things are getting real, it needs to get real.

Cooley also describes his "in" on the film as being the brotherly relationship between Optimus Prime and Megatron (they're not literally brothers in this film, though they have been in the past), which perhaps explains why Megatron and Optimus Prime get to be characters, instead of just like, guys who are there.

That was always the goal from the beginning and what got me on board. It was this relationship between these two characters that was very human and brotherly. I thought about my relationship with my brother and how I could bring that in. It’s not like we’re enemies, but we grew up together and then went down our different paths, but we’re still brotherly. I became a writer-director and live in a fantasy land, and he became a homicide detective who deals with reality, so we’re two very different mindsets. I have always been fascinated by the idea of two people who come from the same place but end up in different ones. From the very beginning, I was like, ‘That’s something I can relate to.’

Anyway, things I liked, what else. There's that joke at the very start, after the excruciating lore powerpoint, where Orion Pax does a fake-out like he's going to transform, the music briefly swells, and then it just cuts to him legging it down the corridor. In a similar vein, I liked the idea behind the Iacon 5000, where Orion Pax has them run in the race. I felt like the execution of the race left a bit to be desired—the only other participant who matters is Darkwing—but it's still honestly the best big action setpiece in the film. There's also that bit at the end where Megatron and Optimus Prime are both changing into their final forms simultaneously, and it's basically a Homestuck Flash (what would that be, "[S] OPTIMUS PRIME. ARISE."?), so obviously I liked that. Oh, and I really liked the environment design where the planet's landscape is constantly transforming, that's brand-new, someone had an Idea there, and it creates visual interest during the initial Energon-mining scene... even if I wished it had actually paid off in a more meaningful way than "the planet's crust opens as Prime falls to get the Matrix"—like, someone really should've gotten eaten by the planet, that's a cracking Disney death scene and they left it on the table! I also liked getting to see my blorbo, Vector Prime, on the big screen.

I think, as a Transformers fan who's had to sit through a lot of really quite sexist, racist, and plain bad films, you're well within your rights to come out of this one ready to give it a fucking Oscar. You should be ecstatic! It has none of those pesky humans clogging up the frame. It has plenty of robot action. It has jokes which- well I struggle to call many of them "funny", but they're at least trying to be funny in a different way to Michael Bay's films. The film is obviously a massive love letter to... honestly every part of Transformers except the live-action movies. It is an incredibly faithful and earnest adaptation of all the lore and iconography that has randomly accumulated the way it has over the last forty years of bullshit.

My main point of contention, then, is with the overriding sentiment I'm seeing from pretty much everyone else in the fandom: that this is not just the best Transformers movie, but that it's a great animated movie period, that it does for Transformers what Into the Spider-Verse did for Spider-Man, what The Last Wish did for Puss in Boots, and what Mutant Mayhem did for Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles. That, in effect, this film will make you "get it". That it's better-looking, better-written, and more meaningful than a silly toy commercial has any right to be.

I think you can definitely see some loose influence from Spider-Verse in the overall look of the film—particularly in its color grading, and in the design of its main setting, the underground city of Iacon, where the upside-down skyscrapers hanging from the ceiling evoke the iconic "falling upwards" shot from Spider-Verse. Like The Last Wish, it's an animated franchise film that spent much longer than you'd think in development, only for the release of Into the Spider-Verse to have an immediate impact on its visual style... without actually affecting the basic story to the same extent. Both Transformers One and The Last Wish, in many ways, feel like stories concocted using an older formula; in particular, Transformers One bears startling similarities to a similar toy-franchise-prequel, BIONICLE 2: Legends of Metru Nui, which was released twenty years ago! By contrast, Mutant Mayhem—which had a much shorter development period—is a direct reaction to Spider-Verse in both aesthetic and narrative, and it has a much more distinctive creative direction as a result.

If you look at how all these titles have performed in cinemas, I think you can make a pretty strong case that audiences are perfectly willing to go out and see this kind of flick. A glance at Wikipedia tells me that Mutant Mayhem, The Bad Guys, and The Last Wish grossed double, triple, and quadruple their budgets respectively. In terms of the pre-existing cultural cachet they were banking on, we're talking about Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles, a children's book series I'd never heard of, and fucking Puss in Boots. You cannot tell me that Transformers, as a brand, is on the same level as any of these properties. Meanwhile, Transformers One hardly broke even, while The Wild Robot—another DreamWorks film based on a children's book I've never heard of, which it ended up competing with in theatres—grosses three times its budget. My friends who've seen The Wild Robot say it made them cry.

Face it: Transformers One has not lit the world on fire. I've seen a lot of people cope with this by suggesting that it's to do with the film's staggered release, or even by claiming that the film's marketing was somehow misleading. I'll be honest, upon seeing it, it did not strike me as being at all dissimilar to the trailers. You can maybe say that the trailers undersold the depth of Orion Pax's and Megatron's relationship—which is its best aspect—but honestly, I think if they'd taken a lot of those scenes out of context and put them in early teasers, audiences would've laughed it out of theatres. Like, c'mon, it's toy robots, stop pretending it's Shakespeare. And otherwise, what you see is what you get; it's exactly what it says on the tin.

I wonder how many Transformers fans, on some level, have noticed that even when we're supposedly "eating good", and watching "peak cinema", our films just aren't as good as everyone else's. They're something you'll enjoy if you're already highly predisposed to enjoy them. But otherwise, they're not turning heads. They're not as funny, or as heartfelt, or as complex, or as exciting, or as charming, or as memorable, or as beautiful as these other films. Unlike with Spider-Verse, there's no word-of-mouth amongst normal people to say that this is a film worth seeing.

What I perceive in studios hoping to recreate the flash-in-the-pan success of Spider-Verse is a misunderstanding of what made people go crazy for that movie in the first place. Yes, it changed our conception of what an 3D-animated film could look like. Yes, the multiverse is very cool and all that. Yes, it had a huge IP attached to it. But on a more fundamental level, that movie has a fantastic story underpinning it. The script is razor-sharp. The story is beautifully complex. The vision of New York City it presents is a living, breathing place, populated by real people. It has the kind of craft to it that can only come from truly obsessive creators cultivating an absolutely miserable professional environment for a legion of passionate animators.

In interview, Transformers producer Lorenzo di Bonaventura actually spoke surprisingly candidly about his view on crunch:

I probably shouldn't answer this question, because I'm not exactly PC on my answer. I think the nature of filmmaking is, we're really lucky to work in a business that's about passion. Passion doesn't fit really well into a timeline, so inevitably you come to a crunch time. It's just true in the live action, it's true in every movie, and authors always tell me that about when they're writing their books — it's the same thing happens to them! There's something about the creative process that's not — it's unruly. So, I think if you're enjoying it, you need to recognize that. Like, you know, I don't wanna abuse anybody, and y'know — if you get into that period where people have to really work too hard, you gotta help them in that situation, then. 'Cause it's gonna come. It does on every movie. I've never seen it not come, no matter how well you plan, et cetera. 'Cause it's not a science what we're doing at all, and there's all these discoveries that happen near the end, which makes you go "oh, let's do some more, come on!". We discovered that on this movie, where we're calling ILM going "we've got a few ideas, you know, do you have enough man-hours?". [...] Like, you gotta be conscious of it — in live-action, for instance, there are some studios that are so cheap that when you're on — sort of medium location-distance and you're shooting 'til midnight, they don't pay for a hotel room. It's like, well, no-no-no, you pay for a hotel room. You protect the people.

According to everyone who worked on Transformers One, everyone who worked on Transformers One was very passionate about it. But there are parts of this film where I think you can say, pretty objectively, that it's falling short of its intended effect. So I guess maybe they weren't that passionate. I'm not saying that to be mean! It's just... isn't that better than the alternative—that this was the best they could do?

III. I did not care for The Godfather

At one point in the film, the gang's magic map leads them to a scary cave, which looks like this:

Bumblebee fills the dead air by saying, "A cave, with teeth. Nothing scary about that!" The joke here is that this is a cave that looks like a mouth. But as depicted, it's a cave that looks like a mouth that doesn't look like a cave! I get that this is an alien planet, but stalactites don't grow that way on Earth, so when you see the cave onscreen, your gut reaction isn't "oh my, what a frightening cave!". No, this is a cave that makes you say, "that's not a cave, that's some kind of alien monster".

(It's not like "cave turns out to be a monster" would in any way be a fresh twist. In BIONICLE 2: Legends of Metru Nui, there's a bit where a character swims into a scary cave, and it turns out to be the mouth of a massive sea serpent. In The Empire Strikes Back, the Millennium Falcon briefly hides in an asteroid tunnel which turns out to be a giant space worm. So I'm definitely not saying Transformers One would've been a better film if it had used this stock trope.)

Then once the heroes go inside, we're whisked off to an entirely different set of concept artwork, for this lush organic underground paradise. There's no danger there. The cave itself is reduced to a strange little footnote. Maybe it's only in the story because a concept artist drew it before they'd worked out the finer points of the narrative, and Keegan-Michael Key just ended up ad-libbing the "teeth!" line when he was told to vamp for a few seconds. Or maybe the teeth gag was fully written into the script from the start, and the environment artists just interpreted it way too literally.

Like, I'm sorry, I don't mean to start off on the wrong foot here by harping on about the cave thing—it's not a perfect example anyway—but to me it's a microcosm for my frustration towards what I perceive to be a lack of creative vision in this film. So much of the film feels like it's not there to be entertaining, or meaningful, or narratively load-bearing... it's just obligatory, something they threw in for the sake of having anything at all. It's colors and sounds. When you see the spiky shape onscreen, you think, "ooh, this film was pretty bouba earlier, but now it's more kiki!" They get the comedian to improvise a few one-liners while the characters walk from place to place. And it's like, yes, this is a film for children. Of course the heroes have an adventure map with a big red X on it. In many respects this is a glorified episode of Pocoyo, or the modern equivalent, which I guess is "Baby Shark | Animal Songs For Children".

Nowhere is this sense of "we are obliged to put this in the movie" felt more strongly than in its supporting cast. When you look closely, you notice that Bumblebee and Elita-1—placed prominently in the film's marketing and being technically present for much of its runtime—don't actually do anything of narrative significance. They don't make choices that impact the story; they're just there, and it would not take much rewriting to excise them entirely, so it's just Orion Pax and Megatron on their little adventure. In fact, I'll just come out and say it: I think Transformers One would have been a better movie if Bumblebee and Elita-1 were not in it.

It helps that, from a Doylist perspective, the motivations for their inclusion are perfectly transparent. Firstly, think of the merchandise! Secondly, in Bumblebee's case, it's fucking Bumblebee, he's the whole reason half the kids will be watching, you can't not have him in there. Whenever Bumblebee's not onscreen, all the other characters should be asking, "where's Bumblebee?" Also, I think the creative team felt that they could use Bumblebee tactically to balance some of the darkness in the story.

In the G1 cartoon, Bumblebee just has the default Autobot personality—good-natured, a little sarcastic—with the dial turned a little more towards friendliness. There's this iconic anecdote from the production that cartoon, where writer David Wise found himself in exactly the same situation Transformers writers are finding themselves in forty years later: he was told to write a story about something called "Vector Sigma", and he had no fucking clue what Vector Sigma was supposed to be. So he asked story editor Bryce Malek, who also had no fucking idea. Malek in turn asked Hasbro, and was told that Vector Sigma was "the computer that gave all the Transformers personalities". Upon hearing this, Malek said, "Well, it didn't do a very good job, did it!" Vector Sigma, in case you missed it, does actually appear in Transformers One, as the polygonal shape that transitions into the Matrix of Leadership in the opening powerpoint; I guess they're one and the same now. Some things never change: in Michael Bay's Transformers movies, there is again just a single default personality that every single Autobot shares, a braggadacious action-hero facade over genuine bloodthirst. Who can forget that iconic moment in Revenge of the Fallen where Bumblebee rips out Ravage's spine in grisly slow-mo?

Aside from the fact that he's small and yellow, Bumblebee in Transformers One bears very little resemblance to any incarnation of the character kids might be accustomed to. Instead, he occupies a stock comic-relief archetype, he's a zany guy who goes "Well, that just happened!" If anything, his one joke in the third act—wanton murder—reads like it could maybe be a reference to his many Mortal Kombat fatalities in Bay's films. Beginning in 2007's Transformers Animated, Bumblebee has sometimes possessed deployable "stingers" that flip out from his hands, as a fun action feature for toys. Clearly someone on Transformers One saw this and thought it was the funniest fucking thing that Bumblebee has "knife hands", because the character spends the third act of the movie just shouting "knife hands!" and cutting people in half like a medieval terror.

(In the UK, Bumblebee's lines were re-recorded at the last minute so he says "sword hands" instead. This is because in the UK, we generally aren't able to kill each other using guns, so it's knives that are the big armed-violence boogeyman. Everyone's always talking about how all the kids have knives. And look, I'm not someone to indulge in moral panic, but genuinely, when I look at Bumblebee chasing around people with knives, saying, "I'm gonna cut these guys, watch!", I'm like... what the fuck were they thinking when they wrote that?)

Frankly, whatever is going on with Bumblebee is just an entirely different movie to everything else that's happening. When Bee shanks his twelfth nameless lackey in a row, the movie's like, awww, you're sweet! But when Megatron tries to kill the one (1) evil dictator who's just fucking branded him, who's still lying to his face while his people continue to die to the guy's fuckin' honor guard, Optimus Prime is like, HELLO, HUMAN RESOURCES?

Bumblebee is solely here to be funny, but there's a point in the film where it needs to become a war story, and the best they can think to do with Bumblebee is to have him kill people but in like, a funny way.

As for Elita-1... look, to put it very bluntly, she is in this movie to be a woman. Transformers has had a long, long forty-year history of boys'-club exclusionism, if not outright misogyny, and each new series usually has a token female character, as a kind of fig-leaf for the fact that really, the only fucking thing Hasbro cares about is that the boys are buying the toys. Beginning in the 1986 movie, it was Arcee who got to be "the pink one" for many years of fiction—but not toys, y'see, when parents want to buy something for their beloved young lad, they don't buy "the pink one", no sir. In the 2010s, wow-cool-OC Windblade took over for a stint as leading lady, decked out in a commercially-non-threatening red color scheme. Recently, though, it's been Elita-1—Optimus Prime's girlfriend from the original '80s cartoon—who's been the go-to female character, and she's increasingly allowed to be pink.

There is a lot of love for these characters amongst creatives and fans alike, and especially in the last decade, female Transformers have been both more numerous and better-written than ever. Unfortunately Transformers One, which depicts Elita-1 as an arms-crossing career-obsessed buzzkill, whose arc sees her learn her place in deference to a less-competent man... well let's just say it struck me as a significant step back in this regard.

There's this great interview with Scarlett Johansson, voice of Elita-1, where she's trying to describe what makes her character interesting, and it's like she's drawing blood from a stone. She's like, "yeah, so Elita-1, I would say, she's on her own journey, because at the start of the film it's sort of like she's working at a big company, you know, and she wants to get a promotion, but then later on she learns that she can't, y'know, get a promotion". Look, it's not that Scarlett Johansson does a bad job—in fact, considering the material she's working with, she practically carries Elita-1 entirely on the back of her performance—it's just that I can't shake the impression that the filmmakers would rather pay Scarlett Johansson god knows how many thousands of dollars than try to think of a second actress that they know of.

As I've already complained, Transformers One has a pretty thin cast, but it effectively only has two other female characters who do anything. Airachnid is a secondary antagonist, Sentinel Prime's spymaster/enforcer, and it's clear that some concept artist really fucking popped off when designing her. She has eyes in the back of her head, and it's ten times creepier than that makes it sound. Her spiderlegs also create some visual interest during fight scenes. As a character, Airachnid has zero internality and is not interesting, but she is cool, so you'll get no complaints from me there.

The film's other other female character is Chromia, who wins the Iacon 5000 race at the last moment. She really comes out of nowhere to clinch it. It's funny, because the leaderboards show this one guy, Mirage, hovering near the top of the rankings for almost the whole sequence. And Chromia's character model really looks suspiciously like Mirage's. In fact, there's a different character who stands around in the background a couple of times who looks much more like Chromia. Funnily enough, that background character is even called Chromia in concept art! So if you connect the dots, it really seems that the "Chromia" who is the best racer on Cybertron was originally meant to be Mirage, a guy, until they switched the character's gender at the very last minute, and didn't bother changing the leaderboards to match.

There are two possible explanations for this. The first is that Mirage was the dark horse of Rise of the Beasts, and for some reason they felt like his depiction in Transformers One would've gotten in the way of their plans for the character somehow. It's plausible, I guess. The second, infinitely funnier option, is that at some point someone working on the movie realised that they only put two women in the film, scrambled to look through the feature to find a suitable character to gender-swap, only to discover to their horror that they'd forgotten to put in any characters whatsoever. Fuck it, the racer guy! He can be a girl. Diversity win, the fastest class traitor on Cybertron... is a woman!

In case you were wondering about the Transformers One toyline leaderboards, by my count, Orion Pax has ten new transforming toys currently announced or in stores, Bumblebee and Megatron have six each, Sentinel Prime has four, Alpha Trion has two, Elita-1 has two, Airachnid has one, Starscream has one, Wheeljack has one, and the Quintesson High Commander has one. In fact, one of Elita-1's toys—the collector-oriented high-quality Studio Series release—isn't scheduled for release until some undetermined point later next year, and she was entirely absent from leaked lists of upcoming releases, which to me smacks of "we realised last-minute that it would look really really bad if we didn't bother to release a good toy of the one woman in the film". Oh, and obviously, Chromia has no toys—but there is an "Iacon Race" three-pack consisting of Megatron, Orion Pax... and Mirage. Go figure.

The thing is, all of the stuff I'm grousing about here is pretty much standard fare for kids' films targeted more at boys. Hell, even The Lego Movie—which is basically the gold standard of toy commercials—gave supporting protagonist Wyldstyle a pretty similar arc to the one Elita-1 gets here, which was probably the weakest element of that film. Evidently conscious of this, Lord & Miller redeemed themselves by devoting the entirety of The Lego Movie 2: The Second Part to deconstructing common narratives surrounding gender roles. I guess I just wish the young girls who presumably comprise some portion of Transformers One theatergoers could actually get anything out of Elita-1 as a character. Ah, what do I know, maybe it's still considered countercultural simply to depict a woman punching people.

Still, to give credit where it's due: Transformers One doesn't remotely touch the gender-essentialism prevalent in the Binder of Revelation, treating female Transformers no differently to their male counterparts in lore terms. Solus Prime is, it seems, just a Prime who happened to be a woman, rather than the mythological Eve after whom all women are patterned. There's a scene where our heroes are gifted the Transformation Cogs of the fallen Primes, and the Primes named thankfully bear no particular relation to the characters; in other words, Elita-1 isn't given Solus Prime's cog. As Alpha Trion puts it: "What defines a Transformer is not the cog in his chest, but the spark that resides in their core." Dude really remembered nonbinary people exist halfway through that sentence huh.

(Actually, the bigger mistake would've been with Megatron: if he was given Megatronus Prime's cog from the start, then this would've created the unfortunate implication that his descent into evil was only the result of Megatronus Prime's fucked up and evil cog, rather than a choice Megatron made of his own free will. The film instead has it the other way around: Megatron's radicalisation into a "might makes right" philosophy is what causes him to covet Megatronus Prime's transformation cog, to steal that power from Sentinel Prime, who stole the cogs of both Megatronus and Megatron in the first place. That's cool! This does create a bit of unfortunate narrative dissonance with Alpha Trion's words, alas, as it does seem like Megatronus Prime's cog really is more powerful than the others, because it gives both Sentinel Prime and Megatron a powerup.)

There's just something that I find so dreadfully mercenary about this movie's cast—honestly, everyone except Orion Pax, Megatron, and maybe Sentinel Prime. Take Darkwing, for example. Bro was clearly designed from the ground up to fill this stock character role of "bully who pushes our guys around and later gets his comeuppance". For a more interesting take on that exact same archetype, look no further than Todd Sureblade from Nimona, a bigoted knight who gets a whole damn character arc in the background, which directly complements that film's main themes.

Again, I'm not playing some kind of guessing game here, the authorial evidence is right there: Darkwing didn't even have a name until Hasbro designer Mark Maher was shown a picture of the character and asked, "If this was a Decepticon flyer, who would it be?" This is actually par for the course with ILM; most of their concept art is labelled with very basic descriptions, with the exact trademarks being picked in conjunction with Hasbro at a later point. Darkwing just stands out in Transformers One because he's the only recurring speaking character who's an OC in all but name (unless you count Bumblebee), he's the one guy who's been invented from scratch with total creative freedom, and he's boring as sin. It's like the filmmakers just couldn't conceive of a children's movie without that stock character—and they clearly had no idea what to do with him once they'd invented him, because he disappears entirely from the film at the start of the third act, when Orion Pax throws him into an arcade cabinet, which they have in the mines on Cybertron for some reason.

In a film with as painfully few named speaking characters as Transformers One, there's really no excuse for having this kind of one-dimensionality in their portrayals. Genuinely, I ask—who are Orion Pax and Megatron fighting to liberate? Jazz, one of the biggest personalities from the original G1 cartoon, who gets all of two boilerplate lines here? Cooley seems to think so:

As you’re designing them the background characters are almost like Lego pieces where you put different heads on different bodies just to fill in a crowd. But some of them would be brought forward and be painted specific colors so that it represents a character that I didn’t know was such a big deal. But there was stuff—like Jazz, for example, has a pretty big role. It was important to have a relationship with a character that we know gets to be saved.

To me, the idea that casual cinemagoers would be invested in any of the Transformers as characters is laughable. Michael Bay's characters are famous for being hateful non-entities. In terms of the films, Jazz is best remembered for dying at the end of the first one, seventeen years ago; he looks completely different here. The one breakout character in recent years—Mirage, as played by Pete Davidson in Rise of the Beasts—was, as I've already mentioned, written out so that the movie could reach its girl quota... not that he would've had any lines anyway.

And I just don't buy the idea that the complete dearth of compelling characterisation in this film is just an unfortunate side-effect of its clipped one-hour-thirty runtime—that, given even half an hour longer, the film would suddenly be crowded with rich portrayals of all your Transformers faves. Bumblebee and Elita-1, ostensibly two of the most important characters in the film, are not in this movie because the movie is interested in telling their stories. They are in this movie for the sake of being in this movie. It insists upon itself.

IV. No politics means no politics

In fact, putting aside merchandising considerations, Elita-1 and Bumblebee serve one very specific purpose in narrative terms. The trait Optimus Prime and Megatron have always had in common is that they are both leaders—and what is a leader, without anyone to lead? Without Bumblebee and Elita-1, you'd have this farcical situation where the only person Optimus Prime ever gets to boss around is Megatron, until the very end of the movie when God makes him king of all Cybertron. The High Guard, Starscream's gang of exiles, serve a similar narrative purpose for Megatron; they're a ready-made army who've just been sitting around waiting for him to show up and take charge.

Towards the end, the movie does actually take care to show both Orion Pax and Megatron rallying groups of Cybertronians: in Pax's case, he reveals the truth to his legion of interchangable miner friends, while Megatron riles up the High Guard mob. Again, there's a bit of that narrative sleight-of-hand, a bit of a thematic cop-out, where the question of "how do Optimus Prime and Megatron come to be leaders of their factions?" is answered only in the most literal possible interpretation. Yes, we technically see the exact chain of events that lead to this point—but both characters are portrayed as born leaders. We don't see them grow into the role, except physically. The moment Megatron decides he wants to rule, he's able to take charge. Likewise, Optimus Prime just gets divinely appointed by God. At a key point, Megatron loudly declares "I will never trust a so-called leader ever again", and the movie plays a fucking scare chord like this is supposed to be ominous. Like, oh no! Optimus Prime is a leader! And they're friends! Whatever will Megatron do when he finds out his friend, Optimus Prime, is a leader?

I don't think the movie has given any real thought to what a leader actually is. It seems to take a stance that power cannot be taken, i.e. through violent action, as Sentinel Prime and Megatron do. That one scene with Elita-1 suggests the most important trait for a leader to have, above and beyond any particular competency, is simply hope and optimism. What I just can't wrap my head around is the fact that the counterpoint the movie presents to Megatron, in the form of Orion Pax becoming Optimus Prime, does not support a belief in collective action or basic democracy—rather, it's a boring sword-in-the-stone divine-right-of-kings fantasy.

Except I do have a theory for why the film is like this. Let's look again at that interview with Eric Pearson, who came onboard in the "late middle" of production:

One of the first things that I did was a big pass on Sentinel Prime. I just felt like he was too obviously telegraphing his wickedness in previous versions, and I felt like, “No, he’s a carnival barker.” He’s got to be a big salesman. He’s a bullshitter, honestly is what he is.

(Honestly, if this is Sentinel after a "big pass" to make his villainy more of a twist, I shudder to think what the earlier drafts were like.)

Now, let's see how WIRED introduces their interview with Josh Cooley, titled "Transformers One Isn't as Silly as It Looks":

He liked the script, which traces how Optimus Prime (Chris Hemsworth) and Megatron (Brian Tyree Henry) went from friends to enemies. But as the world went into lockdown as Covid-19 spread, Cooley found his story changing, if only slightly. Trump was still in office when Cooley started working on the film, and he was having meetings with the producers and they’d “start these meetings off on Zoom just going, like, ‘Holy crap what is going on in this world?’” he says. Ultimately, the infighting they were seeing between Democrats and Republicans in the same family became an undercurrent in the film’s friends-to-enemies storyline, “because that’s what Transformers is.”

So it's like, oh, this is a 2016 election thing. This is just that one election that broke everyone's brains. Of course this movie about a made-up political struggle on an alien planet being developed from 2015-2020 wouldn't be like, hey, you know what might fix our society's problems, is if we had an election. Of course the main villain is a "big salesman" "bullshitter" who says things like "The truth is what I make it!". Wow, guys, your film is so-o-o politically-conscious, and very pretty.

The fantasy is more or less that Donald Trump's army of reactionaries is marching on Washington to seize power through violent means, and on the way he drops Joe Biden into the Grand Canyon, but just before Joe hits the ground a giant fucking bald eagle swoops in to catch him and squawks, "God finds you worthy! Arise, President Biden!"

In our escapist little morality play, our best friend slash allegorical dad gets made king of the planet, and we all get jobs in the government. As in, one of the funniest lines in the movie is straightup Bumblebee exulting, "This is the greatest day of my life. I get to work for the government!" When Prime met Bumblebee—an hour ago—the dude was talking to imaginary friends, and honestly the only fucking skill he's demonstrated since then is cold-blooded murder. We have this dissonance in the storytelling, where it's mostly a story about four friends going on an adventure (are they even friends? Most of them hate each other!), but it's also a founding-fathers political origin story, which means there comes a point where our hero just suddenly starts bossing his friends around in a deep voice, and they're like, "Yes, sir!" It creates this unhinged situation where the "good" faction on Cybertron is ruled by the biblical chosen one and his nepotism buddies.

Per that quote from WIRED (or are they just putting words in Cooley's mouth? I can't help but notice they don't give an exact quote!), the film is ultimately sympathetic to the bad guys (the Republicans, I guess). It deliberately suggests that there is really nothing that should divide the Autobots and the Decepticons: their political goals, it claims, are identical, and they only disagree on the means by which to achieve them. The Decepticons, who are angry and hateful, have simply been misled by a power-hungry liar with charisma—first Sentinel, then Megatron—and so the tragedy is that they are artificially pushed into conflict with their fellow men, when really they should be uniting to stand against their common enemy, the foreigner illuminati trying to steal Cybertron's wealth.

Now, I know I've just handed you a get-out-of-jail-free card. My political allegory here is chock full of holes. What, are Sentinel Prime and Megatron both Donald Trump? Get a grip. Obviously any real-world commentary in Transformers One was only intended in the loosest sense imaginable: things like, "people should be free to change into whatever they want!" I'm being unfair, I'm reading too much into it, this is a cartoon movie for children, and if I want politics, I should start reading some fucking books. Also, come to mention it, my whole argument about that cave earlier really didn't hold water, and- I know, alright? I know.

V. Place / Place, Cybertron

I'm not mad at this toy commercial because its politics don't quite align with mine. I'm not mad at it for having a boring-ass supporting cast. I'm not mad at it for reheating a bunch of half-baked lore I didn't care for from the early 2010s. I've actually spent a lot of time mad about Transformers media that I've thought was bad. There's Transformers: Armada, where the English translators are fully asleep at the wheel and render even the most basic cartoon plots incomprehensible though constant mistranslations. There's Transformers: Micromasters, where two white guys wrote a downtrodden race of tiny Cybertronians who greet each other like "Wattup, my micro!". There's the recent series of Transformers: EarthSpark, where there's an episode that I can only describe as "the Wonka Experience but it's an episode of a children's cartoon", with a plotline that mostly revolves around our child heroes straightup robbing a Onceler-looking businessman of his most valuable possession. There's Transformers: Age of Extinction, with that one scene, and also the rest of that movie. In fact, I would go so far as to say that most Transformers fiction is some combination of bad, offensive, and offensively bad.

So even though I've just spent thousands of words whinging and moaning about how I didn't like Transformers One, the truth is that I had a perfectly nice time at the cinema. I got to go see it with five of my pals who love Transformers just as much as I do, and we had a blast. It is easily in the top 50% of all Transformers fiction.

Unfortunately, for whatever reason, I guess I've always given a lot of thought to what Transformers looks like from the outside. Maybe it's that I'm compelled to spend so much time and money on it, that it somehow compels me to vomit up these kinds of essays, and all I want is to be able to make it make sense to anyone in my life. It would be so, so nice if I could just sit down in the cinema with a friend or family member for a couple of hours, and at the end of it, they'd be able to walk out and say, "Okay, I guess I see what you get out of it." Rise of the Beasts was kind of that movie for me, but Rise of the Beasts is also the seventh instalment in a blockbuster franchise. It kind of takes for granted everything about Transformers.

It doesn't answer, "what the fuck is a Transformer anyway?"

For many years now, fans have noticed a marked aversion to using the word "transform" as a verb, or even as a noun. Optimus Prime no longer says, "Autobots, transform and roll out!", he just says, "Roll out!". Transformers no longer transform, they "convert". In fact, Transformers are no longer Transformers at all: they are "Transformers bots", the italics here serving to distinguish a registered trademark. This is because the worms in suits at Hasbro are worried that, if they continue to use the word "transform" by its dictionary definition—that is, to change—then rival toy companies will be able to make the case that anything that transforms can legally be described as a Transformer. It will become a generic trademark, like Velcro, or Band-Aid, or Dumpster.

Yet in Transformers One, "Transformers" is not just the noun by which the characters are referred to—rather, it's used in a descriptive sense to specifically mean "Cybertronians who can transform"! Characters are constantly talking about whether they can or can't transform. Prime gets to say his catchphrase in full. It's a miracle. Not only that, characters even get to say the word "kill" instead of "defeat" or "destroy".

Transformers One has a level of unrestricted creative freedom not seen since the 1986 animated film. This is a film unconstrained by location shooting, or licensing deals, or uncooperative actors; through the magic of CGI, for every single frame of its one-hour-thirty runtime, the filmmakers can put literally whatever they want on the screen. They were given the assignment, "Make an animated prequel set on Cybertron telling the origin story of Optimus Prime and Megatron", handed an estimated $147 million and a blank page, and told to go nuts. Like those born with transformation cogs, Transformers One had the power to become anything it wanted to be.

The 1986 animated film took that carte blanche to do whatever the fuck it wanted, and basically singlehandedly defined the direction of the franchise ever since. On a lore level, in terms of tone, I would say that Transformers owes practically everything to The Transformers: The Movie. Cartoons, comics, films, and video games have adapted every single one of its scenes countless times over. I'm not necessarily saying that it's a good film, or even that it's a particularly original film—much of it is ripped off from Star Wars—just that it took the franchise somewhere it hadn't gone before. It was looking to the future. As in, literally, it was set in 2005, at the time two decades into the future.

What gets me down about Transformers One is that—like most major franchise media released since The Force Awakens—all it can do is think about the past. Swathes of it are devoted to painstakingly recreating or setting up the various bits of iconography which have arbitrarily come to define the franchise. Even when it appears to be taking things in a new direction, it's not long before it course-corrects back into familiar territory: Steve Buscemi invents a surprisingly fresh take on Starscream's voice, and then Megatron half-strangles him to death, saddling him with a post-produced rasp to emulate Chris Latta's iconic performance from forty years ago.

The very title of the film, Transformers One, is an allusion to the line, "Till all are one," which originates in The Transformers: The Movie. In an early script for that '80s feature, it was actually "Till all life sparks are one", referring to a literal metaphysical process in that draft whereby one Transformer's life force could be passed on to another, presumably with the belief that they would all eventually be merged into a single afterlife. In the finalized story, it's just this kind of mystical phrase vaguely evoking concepts of togetherness and unity.

Transformers One brushes up against the phrase a couple of times. Alpha Trion almost says it at one point, when passing on his dead siblings' transformation cogs: "They were one. You are one. All are one!" Whatever that means. Later, Orion Pax starts a chant amongst the miners: "Together as one!" And finally, at the very end of the movie, during his obligatory film-ending monologue, Optimus Prime again goes: "And now, we stand here together... as one." (Half of Cybertron has just been banished to the surface forever.) "[...] Here, all are truly... Autobots." (Again, half of Cybertron- Optimus, what the fuck are you talking about?) Regardless, this is inexplicably the one instance where the movie doesn't twist itself up into knots trying to nail the exact phrasing.

Actually, there is one other sideways reference like this I can think of. Early in the film, Orion Pax is chatting up Elita, and he remarks, "Feel like I have enough power in my to drill down and touch Primus himself." To which Elita replies, "You don't have the touch or the power." This is kind of a nonsensical retort unless you know that in the 1986 movie, one of the most iconic songs on the soundtrack was "The Touch" by Stan Bush, which had the chorus line: "You got the touch! You got the power!" It's a banger. Anyway, remember when I said Darkwing gets chucked through an arcade cabinet? Well, here's Cooley revealing why that arcade cabinet is in the film:

I actually wrote [that exchange between Orion Pax and Elita] because I love that song. [...] And we had this one version where D-16 and Orion were playing a video game, like a stand-up old arcade game—it was inspired to look like that, but a Cybertonian version of that. They’re playing that together like friends and the song, like the 8-bit song that’s playing is ["The Touch"]. But that scene got nixed. And so I wanted to work it in there somewhere. And I just felt like a natural place for it. But that was one where I’m like, "I just love that song and those lyrics and that’s Transformers to me so I want to get that in there."

(I've had to amend that quote to fill in the blanks where the article has redacted "spoilers" for the movie. Spoiler culture is an absolute pox, I swear. Can't have the audiences knowing about one (1) mid joke in advance—the movie barely has enough jokes to fill a "Transformers One Funny Moments" compilation as it is!)

This actually isn't the first time Hasbro has "nixed" a reference to "The Touch" in major Transformers media. In the Transformers: Cyberverse episode "The Alliance", a character references "The Touch" right before a training montage which is clearly supposed to have the track playing, except instead it's been replaced by a generic rock instrumental, presumably because they couldn't afford the license. And in Daniel Warren Johnson's Eisner-award-winning bestselling comic run, there's one panel where he clearly wanted to include the song's lyrics as a sound effect, but wasn't allowed, so the final sound effect famously reads "YOU KNOW THE SONG". But that's a random episode of a bargain-bin cartoon, and an indie-darling comic series—not a $147 million blockbuster. You really have to wonder if it came down to money, or if it was something else. God knows Transformers One would not actually be improved for having a chiptune remix of "The Touch" in it, anyway.

The most egregious misplaced bit of fanwank in the film isn't even in dialogue. In the 1986 film, there's this one iconic moment when Optimus Prime arrives at the besieged Autobot City, drives through a crowd of Decepticons in truck mode, then fires some afterburners, launching his cab up into the air, where he transforms mid-leap, drawing his blaster to shoot a couple of Decepticons before hitting the ground. It's a fantastic bit of original animation. It's the Akira slide of Transformers. And, surprise surprise, it crops up in Transformers One. In the climactic final fight, Orion Pax shows up to save Megatron, and he does the thing.

But the problem is... he's not in truck mode! The film just cuts to him standing there in the middle of some anonymous mooks, then he does a standing jump into the air, the movie momentarily goes into extreme slow-mo like he's doing a fucking quick-time event, then he shoots a couple of guys and drops to the ground. There's no momentum. It exists purely to create that simulacrum, to take the single most iconic frame from that bit of 1986 animation, and stretch that one frame into infinity. The context is discarded, irrelevant. All that matters is that brief moment of recognition: "I know what that iiis!" God knows Transformers One has precious little in the way of impactful fight animation of its own; the choreography is stiff and uninspired, while the shots themselves are nauseatingly cluttered. Often, the best it can do is pilfer from older, better stories.

"Did you clap at any of the new moments and memorable characters?" "Were there any?"

Look, I get it. Transformers One is a prequel. By definition, it can't change the future. It has to play with the characters that are already in the toybox. But I do think it had this really special opportunity: to show theatregoers where the Transformers come from. To show us Cybertron not as a distant star or a barren scrapyard, but as a living, thriving alien world, unlike Earth, something special and worth protecting in its own right. Something new and memorable. In Rise of the Beasts—probably the best Transformers movie by default—when Optimus Prime is at his lowest, he wants nothing more to return home... but home is something we've only ever seen as a cold dystopia, ruled by Decepticons. The version of Transformers One I had hoped to see was one that would have imbued Optimus' homesickness with greater meaning. I wanted to feel his loss, and to hope that one day the war will end, and Cybertron can be restored.

I think Transformers One sincerely tries to achieve this effect. The concept artists have clearly put a great deal of time and thought into Cybertron as an environment. When the artbook comes out, I'm keen to see how much stuff didn't make it into the finished film. You have to assume most of it got cut, because there's next to nothing left!

At the end of the film, battle lines are drawn, the civil war is about to start... but strangely, the movie's setting does not convey the sense that anything beautiful is being lost. Nobody is unwillingly turned to violence, innocence-lost; they're all too eager to get to killing, friggin' Bumblebee is gleeful about it. There's no beautiful, iconic landmark, which gets tragically destroyed, like in some kind of Transformers 9/11—"What have we done! Where will this war take us!". There's no part of Cybertron's natural ecological environment to be ruined by the war, because the surface world is already turbofucked by the Quintessons to begin with. No, rather, we have the total opposite: Optimus Prime finding the Matrix (which was just, like, hanging out in the core of Cybertron or whatever) actually restores Energon to the planet, removing the unnatural scarcity which was the entire impetus behind the film's dystopia. He made Cybertron great again. So again, Transformers One fails to answer one of the most fundamental questions one might expect of a Transformers prequel: "When did things on Cybertron get so bad?" The movie ends with the planet in better shape to how it started!

The big original idea that Transformers One has is that Cybertron, the planet itself, should be in a constant state of transformation. I've already talked about the beautiful shapeshifting landscapes, but it's also the moving buildings, the complicated mechanisms, the roads and rails that magically lay themselves between the vehicles and their destinations. I've already mentioned how odd I find it that none of these environmental transformations have any significance to the story; the closest it comes to some sort of payoff is when Orion Pax falls into the hole that makes you king.

What I find most perplexing are the deer. When the gang makes it to the surface, the idea is to show the natural beauty of the surface, which the cogless have been denied their whole lives. The mountains glisten as they move. Nebulae glow in the night sky. The surface is blanketed in organic (?) plantlife, like a watering can forgotten in a garden. And, most strikingly, there are deer: mechanical animals, just like those found on Earth, being hunted for sport by the evil Quintessons. When the cruisers near, their glowing horns turn red with alarm, and they prance around in fear.

I'm reminded of a brief gag from the third season of Transformers: Cyberverse—one of very few shows to have devoted any serious effort to Cybertronian worldbuilding—in the episode "Thunderhowl". Bumblebee and Chromia stumble across a "singlehorn" (read: unicorn), and when it senses danger, it neighs, transforms into a rocket, and blasts out of frame. And apart from being really cute and funny, it's like, oh, of course that's what animals are like on Cybertron! Everything on this planet transforms. Why not the animals?

For whatever reason, the deer in Transformers One are like the one thing that don't transform. Why the hell not? If Cyberverse could find the budget for its split-second sight gag, surely this blockbuster could, I don't know, have them turn into dirt bikes with antler-handlebars. That would've been something, right? If not, then at least could we maybe see some other animals on Cybertron, to really get across that alien biodiversity? Of course not. See, the deer exist to communicate one very specific story beat: a single moment of trepidation, where the heroes know there's danger nearby, but they don't know what. And all you need for that is a single kind of prey animal, with some kind of warning light to let you know, hey, there's danger! Once this purpose is fulfilled, the deer have no further significance to the story.

We need only look to BIONICLE 2: Legends of Metru Nui to see this exact same beat play out with a modicum of competence and creative flair. Also in the second act—in fact, at practically the exact same timestamp—our heroes, the Toa, have a run-in with the bad guys, and they're nearly captured... but then there's this sudden rumble of danger approaching, we don't know what. It turns out to be a herd of giant Kikanalo! They send the bad guys packing, except they nearly trample our heroes too! But then, Toa Nokama's mask begins to glow, and she discovers that her mask grants her the ability to talk to animals. They learn some vital information from the Kikanalo, and are able to ride the creatures for the next stage of their adventure. Finally, when they can go no further, the Kikanalo cave in the passage behind the heroes to ensure they won't be pursued. Holy shit, that's like, five different story beats with just that one type of creature!

It's not just that Transformers One struggles with that kind of basic narrative flow, where a single element serves multiple purposes. It's that often, it wastes precious time creating redundant setups to achieve the same effect twice.

For example, Megatronus Prime's face happens to look exactly like (what we know will be) the Decepticon insignia. At the beginning of the movie, Orion Pax mollifies Megatron by giving him a rare decal of Megatronus Prime's face. Traditionally, Megatron wears his insignia in the middle of his chest—but in this film, nearly every character has a big hole in the middle of their chest, where their missing transformation cog should go. So Megatron sticks the decal on his shoulder instead.

Later, he gets a cog, and the hole in his chest is filled. When Sentinel Prime captures Megatron, he notices the Megatronus sticker, and rips it off. Then, he re-applies it on Megatron's chest—purely so it's in the "right" place for the iconography. And then, he uses his gun to crudely brand Megatron with a tracing of Megatronus' face, inadvertently creating the Decepticon symbol. Finally, in a post-credits scene, Megatron has fashioned a proper Decepticon brand with which to brand himself and his followers. So in effect, there are four separate moments where Megatron gets the symbol! Orion sticking it on his shoulder, Sentinel moving it to his chest, Sentinel mutilating him, and finally Megatron branding himself. You can make an argument that the symbol starts out meaning one thing, but ends up meaning another thing, which has a kind of tragic significance—but I think you would struggle to distinguish subtle shades of meaning from all four of these brandings. Considering the movie only has an hour and a half to work with, I find this lack of narrative economy to be honestly embarrassing.

(My friend Jo also points out what a misstep it is to just have Megatronus Prime's face perfectly resemble the Decepticon symbol from the start. Had it been a looser, more stylised—that is to say, original—design, the moment where Sentinel Prime roughly carves it into Megatron's chest could be a shocking reveal, as the basic outlines are abstracted and simplified. Gasp, that's the origin of the Decepticon symbol! Instead, from the very moment that sticker first shows up, it's like... oh, well, there it is I guess.)

In a similar vein, both Optimus Prime and Megatron undergo two different transformations at different points in the movie: first, when Alpha Trion gives them transformation cogs, and second, when respectively they obtain the Matrix of Leadership/Megatronus' cog. The gun that sprouts from Megatron's arm in his intermediary form bears a much closer to resemblance to his iconic "fusion cannon" than the triple-barrelled cannon he ends up with in his final form. Again, in such a short film, can we really say whatever subtlety this brings to Megatron's arc is worth all this fanfare? Now, Redditors ask: "What is the EXACT moment D-16 became Megatron?"

In fact, probably the only point of criticism I've seen levied at Transformer One from within the Transformers fandom at large is that Megatron's arc is maybe a little "rushed". He starts out being best bros forever with Orion Pax, and by the end of the film, he's ready to drop the guy into a bottomless pit. The film takes a lot of time to justify his anger at Sentinel Prime, but the deterioration of his friendship with Orion goes much more unspoken, and is framed more as a point of irrationality: psychologically, Megatron comes to conflate his bossy friend with his oppressive ruler. I liked this, personally. I liked that it's as if a switch gets flipped in Megatron's head. But you do just kind of have to buy into it. The film itself does not put in the work to really sell you on the friendship souring, because again, it's too busy fucking around with two (2) magical girl transformation sequences for each of them.

Everything in the film is like this. They go into the cave and meet Alpha Trion, then leave the cave so they can watch a FMV cutscene with Sentinel Prime and the Quintessons, who've coincidentally arrived at that exact moment, basically just to rehash what they've just been told... and then they go back into the cave so Alpha Trion can resume his infodump, and then they end up clashing with Sentinel Prime's forces once that's done. At the beginning of the movie, they're at the very bottom in the mines, then they get banished to an even lower level, then they banish themselves all the way up to the surface, then they return to Iacon, and then Megatron gets banished to the surface again so he can be mesmerized by the beauty of the world and/or get gunched by Quintessons depending on what the film wanted me to take away from this. Compare to Minecraft but I survive in PARKOUR CIVILIZATION [FULL MOVIE], where the theme of class struggle is pretty efficiently depicted in the vertically-stratified setting.

I just find it so wasteful. Outside of the one scene where they're introduced, the Quintessons—ostensibly the true architects of Cybertron's oppressive status quo—may as well not exist. If not for Orion Pax addressing his closing remarks to the Quintessons, almost as an afterthought, I'd assume the film wants us to forget about them entirely, as it knows full well that its paltry runtime does not give it time for a second action-climax against the aliens. Even as sequel bait, it feels halfhearted at best; Josh Cooley is clearly already bored of Transformers, and seems unlikely to come back for another round unless the money is really really good (which *glances at the box office* it's not). So what the fuck are the Quintessons here for? Was the idea that Sentinel might just have pulled off his coup singlehandedly really so hard to stomach? Could the conspiracy not have been simplified to just involve Sentinel and his Transformer cronies? Hang on, are all the Transformers seen at the start of the film in on it, or just some of them? How's it decided who keeps their cogs and who doesn't?

VI. Into nothing

Why does this movie, where the main selling point is ostensibly that we're getting to see Transformers civilization for the first time, mostly focus on all these guys who can't fucking transform? Surely the entire thing that makes the setting fun is the Zootopia angle of, look, they're all different animals! Or the Elemental angle of, look, they're all different elements! Or the Emoji Movie angle of, look, they're all different emoji! Or the Cars angle of, look, they're all different cars! This is a Transformers film which features several significant sequences involving these cool trains, and there is absolutely zero indication that these trains are themselves Transformers. This is a Transformers film which extensively focuses on miners, and none of them transform into mining vehicles; they're holding, friggin', space jackhammers. Even the premise of "isn't it sad that these ones can't transform" is kind of undercut by the fact that all the miners get to wear fucking jetpacks, which is a frankly much cooler and more effective method of locomotion than driving.

I'm just sick of Transformers stories having zero interest in the basic premise of Transformers, which is to say, they transform into something. I also think this is the biggest dissonance between casual audiences, who think "oh yeah, Optimus Prime, that guy who turns into a truck", and Transformers fans, who think, "oh yeah, Optimus Prime, the messiah or something". Normal people love to know what the Transformers turn into. They ask, "Wait, is there a Transformer that turns into [insert silly vehicle here]?" Of course people are interested in that angle! Vehicles are such a huge part of our daily lives—honestly, for those of us living in cities, more so than animals, the classical elements, or emoji—but the closest Transformers One comes to engaging with this lens is that aforementioned Iacon 5000 race sequence. By and large, it presents a world which is made for standing up and walking around. And personally I do think that's an insane approach to take?

Is the excuse that cars can't emote? Nonsense. If you've ever seen a traffic jam, you'll know that cars can sure as hell emote. Pixar, where Josh Cooley cut his teeth, famously spent a lot of time working out how to put a facial expression on a car. No, the problem dates back to the very start of the franchise.

In the 1980s, two main people were responsible for writing the comic stories: American writer Bob Budiansky, and British writer Simon Furman. Budiansky approached the premise of the franchise from an external, human perspective, writing about culture clash, and taking delight in the Transformers' mechanical alien nature as "robots in disguise". Meanwhile, Furman wrote the Transformers as giant people: he focused on their own internal conflicts and motivations, and the grand history of their war. Pretty much every Transformers story ever told can be boiled down to one of these schools of thought: Budianskian, or Furmanist.

Budiansky quit the comic after fifty issues, allowing Furman to take the reigns as sole writer, and Furman basically got the final word on what the Transformers are. They did not evolve from naturally-occurring gears, levers and pulleys. They were not designed by a supercomputer, or built by an alien race. They are the chosen sons of God. The Thirteen are, of course, an invention of Furman's. And Transformers One is perhaps the most Furmanist story ever told. It's the culmination of years and years of lore building up, ossifying into something you can no longer describe as the history of a universe—no, this is a mythology. It's the most perfect form of brand alignment imaginable: this is not an origin story, this is the origin story. It's been the origin story for a better part of the decade—and now that everyone's seen it in theatres, it will be the origin story forever.

It's not just the fiction, either, by the way. These days, if you go into the store to buy a Transformers toy, chances are it'll turn into some misshapen made-up futuristic concept car with unpainted windows and wheels that don't even roll—and that's terrible.

There's truly a lot to hate about Michael Bay's Transformers films, but with each new entry that's released following his departure from the franchise, I feel like I only find myself appreciating them more. In the 2007 Transformers movie, we see the Transformers crash-landing on Earth in their "protoforms", and their movements are animated like they're shy, like they're naked until they scan an Earth vehicle and adopt a disguise. The visual impact of Megatron, meanwhile, is that he doesn't adopt a disguise in that movie: he's a horrible metal skeleton that turns into a jet made of knives. It's weird and alien and it rules.

In the 1980s Transformers cartoon, and in the last-minute Cybertron-set prologue added to Bumblebee, and now in Transformers One, the Transformers look basically the same on Cybertron as they eventually do upon their arrival to Earth. Optimus Prime turns, unmistakably, into a truck. He has windows on his chest, and smokestacks on his arms. He doesn't have these features because he disguises himself as an Earth truck. He has those details because that's just what Optimus Prime looks like. They're his "essential brand elements", or "trademark details", which "identify the must-have elements in character design to be carried across all creative expressions". Prime may take any form he wishes, so long as it looks exactly like himself. A mask of my own face—I'd wear that.

What I find fucked up about the reception towards Transformers One is that a lot of people seemed very invested in its success—and not its popular success, certainly not its artistic success, but rather its commercial success. They wanted this to be the first film to make one bumblebillion dollars. They wanted Hasbro to line its fucking pockets and make movies like this forever. So if you express any kind of negativity towards this film online, which might theoretically affect some other person's decision of whether or not to go and see it, which might theoretically affect the profit it makes at the cinema, which might theoretically affect the future of the franchise in some unknown way, then you're some sort of fandom traitor who oughta be executed.

If you're so worried about the future of the franchise, the fandom really isn't where you should be looking. Like, c'mon, the Transformers fandom has been good as gold, we buy so many toys. Meanwhile, Hasbro just got finished laying off around 100 employees with no warning to make their books look a bit better. Transformers designer John Warden—who'd worked at Hasbro for 25 years, is widely credited with inventing the modern paradigm of Transformers toylines, and ultimately became the creative director of both Transformers and G.I. Joe—was on assignment to a convention in the UK with the rest of the Transformers team when he heard the news. Suffice to say, he did not end up making a public appearance at the convention. With his work's health insurance snatched away without notice, he's had to resort to crowdfunding to pay his family's medical bills. As a well-known figure in the toy industry, he will presumably find a new job and land on his feet, but the same cannot be said for all 99 of the remaining employees we're told have been unceremoniously dumped.

The Binder of Revelation, which has been something of a holy grail of behind-the-scenes material for over a decade, has finally been leaked—presumably by one of these guys, presumably out of spite.

Now, I'm not going to pretend to have been paying particularly close attention to Hasbro's financials, but from where I'm sitting, it sure seems that ever since the sudden death of then-CEO Brian Goldner in 2021—credited for saving the company in 2000, and overseeing the explosive growth of its intellectual property ever since then—his replacement, Chris P. Cocks (or "Crispy Cocks", as we're all now calling him), has been dead set on gutting the company for all it's worth. The Power Rangers franchise, which the company acquired for $522 million in 2018, is dead in the water, with huge quantities of physical assets being flogged at auction for quick cash. In 2019, they acquired the entertainment company eOne for $4.0 billion, and now they're selling off the whole shebang (except the cash-printing Peppa Pig franchise) for just $500 million. I guess maybe they just fucked it big style?

Because now, Crispy Cocks has proudly announced that Hasbro is going to stop financing movies altogether.

I'm sure that in the wake of this announcement, many of those aforementioned fandom pundits will be drawing a correlation between this announcement, and the box-office figures for Transformers One, and the fact that you personally failed to convince your Mom to go see it with you or whatever. "Ah, you see! They didn't make enough of their money back, and now they're consolidating. Simple economic cause and effect. Market forces." And look, I'm not going to sit here and claim these things are wholly unrelated. Of course they're very related. But I am going to make the case that, in truth, nobody at Hasbro really cared how Transformers One did. Unless it turned out to be some pie-in-the-sky runaway hit, I don't think the future of the Transformers film franchise would've been particularly different if only the film had done better.

With Paramount, Hasbro has been making these movies and having them underperform ever since 2017's The Last Knight—which apparently lost Paramount $100 million—and that's because at the end of the day, what they're most interested in isn't making movies. It's making toy commercials. And on that level, the Transformers films have clearly been a success so far.

Now, Crispy Cocks' skinsuit fashions itself as a gamer, so he can personify Hasbro's hardcore pivot towards digital and tabletop gaming. While we await the release of the assuredly-dogshit, assuredly-hell-to-have-worked-on, assuredly-never-coming-out Transformers: Reactivate, the brand has been whored out to a procession of mobile games you've never heard of, glorified gambling machines designed to hack the monkey part of your brain with bright colors and Things You Recognize. The exact content of these games is irrelevant; all that matters is the announcement, on every single pop culture news outlet simultaneously (naturally—they're all owned by the same company, talk about Monopoly), of New Collaboration Between Transformers And Goon Warriors Free To Download Now. Your daily, weekly, bi-annual reminder to think about that thing you can buy.

That's all any of this stuff is.

All these words spilled about what a good movie Transformers One is, and how bad it is, and why the marketing failed it, and what the next one might be like, and- none of it mattered! It does not matter. From the beginning, this movie was always going to be too preoccupied with its own mercenary interests to be something anyone would ever be able to seriously talk about as a work of art, even corporate art. The actual content of the movie is irrelevant; I've spent very little of this review talking about it, because there's nothing there to talk about. It is the mere fact of the movie's existence that serves its purpose. Like the Optimus Prime Fortnite skin, it's enough for it to occupy our attention.

Maybe that's why they staggered the film's release date: because some marketing exec watched the rough cut and realised, if everyone saw it at once, we'd be done talking about it within a fortnight. And in ten years' time, after it has been paraded around whichever streaming services survive 'til then, and nearly every last cent of revenue has been squeezed out of it, the kids will be able to watch it on YouTube with ad breaks, and decide what they want for Christmas.

To the Transformers fans reading this, I am begging you, unless you happen to own shares in Hasbro for some fucking reason, to disabuse yourself of the feeling that you owe any kind of loyalty to a toy franchise. It shouldn't matter to you one jot how Transformers One did in theatres. The people who actually make the product you care about, the friendly faces paraded before you on livestreams and press tours, don't see this money anyway—they too are merely assets, who can be fired and replaced with cheaper, inferior equivalents.

I'm sure many of you will have, from the very start, seen this review for the foolish endeavour it is. I've wasted all this time criticising Transformers One for its lack of artistic vision, when the truth is, Transformers One is playing an entirely different game. Like the Disney Channel running "Fishy Facts!" segments to subliminally get kids interested in fish a full year and a half before the release of Finding Nemo, this is not a product—it's an ad for a product.

...

Okay I'll be honest, I don't entirely love where this review has ended up. It ends on kind of a "bummer note", I guess you could say. Flashing back to sections I. and II., I feel like things started out so fun. We had that whole bit at the start where I was telling you about the Transformers, remember that? We learned so much together. And there were even a few moments where I was able to express some kind of sincere joy and appreciation over this thing that I supposedly adore so much. Sure, I did a lot of complaining, but it was fun complaining, right? It had like, a sarcastic edge to it, sort of.

What happened? Why am I suddenly talking like I want to cut someone's head off? As I grow more bitter, I type this essay with increasing difficulty. The massive gun that's sprouted from my forearm keeps colliding with my monitor.

Hasbro descends from on high to reward @TFHypeGuy, a grown-ass adult who has spent untold unpaid hours fearlessly replying to every single viral tweet to tell people to go see the film, somehow netting himself 80,000 followers in the process, with a crate of toys, which was probably his end goal from the start. He and I duel. We trade blow after blow. Finally, he clobbers me with a Walmart-exclusive light-up Ultimate Energon Optimus Prime figure. "It didn't have to end this way," he says. Then he banishes me to the surface world to think on my sins.

VII. The Wrong Trousers 👖 | Train Chase Scene 🚂 | Wallace & Gromit

When Eric Pearson came onto the project,

It was late middle of the game. They had a script that had the outline of the story, which is still very much the structural bones of the story now. But what I found interesting about animation is there are certain things that were far along in the process. The train escape to the surface was very far along, so that was just kind of locked. Maybe you could change a line here or there. Meanwhile, the opening, the whole first 10 minutes, was all storyboards and sketches, which changed a bunch of times.

And I do think that's a really difficult position for a scriptwriter to be in. Sure, the parts of the screenplay I feel able to attribute to Pearson, I wasn't particularly impressed by. But I think this anecdote goes to show how unnatural the constraints can be on a story like this. When you think of like, a scene that's key to Transformers One, you're probably imagining something like the Megatron/Optimus fight, or the scene in the mine—not the train scene, which is basically a bit of arbitrary connective tissue bridging the two main locations in the film.

Josh Cooley, the film's director, the face of the film on the press circuit from a creative standpoint, came onboard after five years of previous development work was already done. Writers Andrew Barrer and Gabriel Ferrari, who originally pitched the film and presumably wrote the early drafts of the story, might have already left the project by that point. Aaron Archer and Rik Alvarez, the creative forces behind the Binder of Revelation, left Hasbro years before the film was even pitched. It's no wonder to me that the final result feels incoherent, disjointed, and oddly stilted. It's certainly no wonder that nobody at Hasbro today really seems to care about the film; it's not their baby. If any of the people credited with bringing the project to completion had been given full creative freedom to make whatever Transformers movie they wanted, it would've looked completely different.

Luckily, there are still plenty of areas of the franchise where creators have just been allowed to go ham. Over in Japan, TRIGGER has taken a modest budget for a music-video and produced one of the most visually-striking bits of animation in the franchise, a true love-letter to all the weird parts of its forty-year history. And in America, comic creator Daniel Warren Johnson is halfway through his Eisner-winning new run on the title, which is the kind of thing I would basically recommend to anyone without caveats as being a phenomenal story, period. If that comic can be said to be an advert for anything, it's for Skybound's other, nowhere-near-as-good comic series, or for the unofficial unlicensed copyright-infringing Magic Square Optimus Prime toy Daniel Warren Johnson apparently used as reference the whole time.

I dunno, maybe Hasbro stepping back from financing these films is a good thing, in the long run. Maybe we can do without Transformers movies for a while. And however many years down the line, maybe Paramount or some other studio will put together a new team of talent, and they'll get to do whatever it is they want. And maybe the movie they make will be the one that knocks everyone's socks off.

Truly, I don't know where the road leads from here. It hasn't been built yet. It could turn out to go anywhere.

If you made it this far, I hope some of what I've said has been entertaining or interesting. Thanks for reading!

Time to for me to come clean. There is one other reason why I've waited so long to release this review... and that's because I have a special announcement to make. Last month I set myself a little challenge: to write something that's at least as long as this review, but which isn't another negative-nancy tirade. It's a story.

The working title is "Ice Road Transformers". It's like an episode of that one reality TV show about Canadians driving trucks across frozen lakes—except the truck is Optimus Prime.

Early reviews say it's good! It'll be going through several rounds of revisions, to turn it into a well-oiled machine, hopefully in time for a seasonally-appropriate wide release in February. I'm very excited for you to be able to read it. You can follow me here or on Bluesky to be the first to find out when it's ready!

I'd like to thank my friends Jo and Umar for their work interviewing Cooley and di Bonaventura during the film's press circuit, along with Viv, Callum, and Omar for allowing me to enjoy this film much more than I otherwise might have. I wouldn't have been able to express many of my feelings about this movie nearly so cogently if not for the conversations I had with them. Additional thanks go to Chris McFeely, as his Transformers: The Basics videos (linked throughout this essay) refreshed my memory on a lot of the Aligned stuff, sparing me from having to read The Covenant of Primus again.

[burrowlvrr]

— NOT LONG AGO, joe burrow.

PAIRING: Joe Burrow 𝔁 Black!Wife!Reader

GENRE: Husband & Dad Joe

SUMMARY: In which — Joe and Y/N can't believe how far they've come. From taking a pregnancy test in a dorm room, to washing dishes while the babies watch a movie.

NOTE: I got a MacBook and forgot how to act, writing on this thing is so much fun Lord help me. I thought this was kinda cute, shows a lil different side of our couple but its low-key the shortest thing I've written so far, unfortunately :( but enjoy and ignore any errors! <3

UNIVERSE: Tenderhearts & Touchdowns!

The house was unusually quiet, a rare reprieve in the Burrow household. The twins, Hudson and Elijah, were snuggled up on the couch under a thick blanket, captivated by the colorful characters on the TV screen. Their little giggles and whispers occasionally broke the stillness. Outside, the cold December wind howled, but the warmth of their Cincinnati home kept the chill at bay.

Y/N stood at the sink, sleeves rolled up, scrubbing the last of the dinner plates. The glow from the under-cabinet lights cast a soft radiance over her face, and she hummed a tune under her breath, content in the moment.

Joe appeared in the doorway, leaning casually against the frame, his hands shoved into the pockets of his sweatpants. His gaze lingered on her, a small smile tugging at his lips.

“Hey,” he called softly. “Why don’t you let me handle these? Go hang out with the boys for a bit.” He nodded toward the couch where their sons were quietly enjoying the movie.

Y/N glanced over her shoulder, her lips curving into a smile. “Y'know how this works, Burrow. I wash, you rinse.” She handed him a freshly cleaned plate, their fingers brushing briefly.

Joe chuckled, stepping forward to take his place beside her at the sink. “Fair enough. I just hate seein' you doing all the work when you’ve been chasing after them all day.”

“I like this part,” she replied softly, dipping her hands back into the soapy water. “It’s peaceful. Plus, we’re a team, remember?”

Their routine continued, the rhythmic sounds of dishes clinking and water running filling the air. The moment felt perfect in its simplicity.

“Remember when we found out?” Joe started, his voice carrying a note of nostalgia. Y/N looked at him briefly, shaking her head as she let out a soft giggle.

“How could I forget? You ran nearly three miles across campus to get to my dorm, Joe.” She replied, and he shrugged his shoulders nonchalantly before asking, "How do you think I got the Heisman?"

★

Back in 2019, Joe and Y/N were basically still kids. Seniors in college, but still kids. Y/N had finals coming up for her Bachelor's degree, and word around campus was that Joe would be nominated for this year's Heisman. They were both rather successful in their academics and sports--but this, no level of success could prepare a college student for a positive pregnancy test.

She sat on the floor of her dorm room, her back pressed against the bed-frame, knees pulled to her chest. Her breathing was shallow and erratic, her hands trembling as she clutched her phone. The pregnancy tests were on the bathroom counter, both of them untouched—her mind racing in panic, holding her back from using the tests alone.

When Joe picked up, his voice was steady but laced with concern. “Y/N? Hey, babe. What's up?”

She tried to speak, but all that came out was a choked sob. Her breathing quickened, and she could feel her chest tightening.

“Y/N,” Joe said, his voice firmer now. “Breathe, okay? I’m coming. I’ll be there in ten.”

The line disconnected before she could respond, and she stared at the phone in her trembling hands, her tears falling freely.

Meanwhile, Joe was already running. He bolted out of the locker room, his duffel bag slung over his shoulder, his cleats barely tied. The cold air stung his face as he sprinted across campus from the football field to the girls’ dorms. Students turned to watch as he sped past, but he didn’t care.

By the time he reached her door, he was panting, his chest heaving from the exertion. He pushed it open without hesitation and dropped his duffel bag to the floor. The sight of Y/N, curled up and trembling, hit him like a punch to the gut.

“Y/N,” he breathed, moving toward her. She stood shakily, meeting him halfway, and threw her arms around his neck. Her sobs were muffled against his chest as he wrapped his arms around her.

“Hey, hey,” Joe murmured, his hand rubbing soothing circles on her back. “What’s wrong? Talk to me.”

She pulled back just enough to meet his eyes, her tear-streaked face breaking his heart. "I think I—I'm pregnant." She choked out, a hand going to her mouth to try and cover the hiccups.

"I'm too scared to touch them, Joe." She sobbed, and he nodded, wrapping his arms around her shoulders. "It's alright, Y/N. I'm here now."

They stood there for a moment before Joe left a kiss on her tanned forehead, brushing a stray curl away from her face and tilting her chin upward. "I'll stand right beside you. I'll even hold your hand if you want me to."

Y/N playfully rolled her eyes, "Now's not the time to be humorous, Burrow." She roughly wiped her tears away before making her way to the bathroom, turning around with a waiting expression—hoping Joe was on her heels, which he was.

She took both tests while Joe stood a few inches away, looking away out of respect but still turning around to check on her every few moments. Y/N quickly washed her hands, taking the tests and grabbing Joe's hand, leading him to her bed. They both sat on the edge, the two plastic tests lying in between them. Face down.

At least six minutes had passed now, and Joe couldn't stop his leg from bouncing. Y/N stared at them as if they might explode, her hands trembling slightly.

"You should check." Joe said, breaking the silence, his voice low and steady. Y/N whipped her head in his direction, "Me? You check it!"

Joe shook his head by then decided against arguing. He sighed, leaning over, and then hesitating for a moment. His fingers hovering over the tests, "Okay, but...don't we kinda already know?"

"Just look, Joe." She snapped, her voice higher-pitched than usual. She squeezed her eyes shut out of fear, as Joe flipped the tests over and freezes. His jaw tightened, but he doesn't speak right away.

"Joe," Y/N whispers, her heart pounding in her chest. "What does it say?"

"Positive." he says, barely above a whisper.

The words hit her like a freight train. She slumps back into the couch, her head in her hands. "Oh my God," she mutters, her voice cracking. "This can’t be happening. I can’t—"

"Y/N," Joe starts, but she cuts him off, her words tumbling out in a frantic rush.

"My mama is going to kill me," she says, sitting up straight now, her hands flying. "You don’t understand, Joe. And my daddy's always lecturing me about ‘staying focused’ and ‘not ruining my future.’ This is exactly what he meant! They’re never going to forgive me for this!"

Joe stands, walking over to her and crouching down. "Hey," he says softly, placing a hand on her knee, but she jerks away, jumping to her feet.

"And what about graduation?" she continues, pacing the room now. "Three months, Joe! We graduate in three months! Do you have any idea how much a baby costs? Diapers, formula, doctor visits… How are we supposed to afford that?"

Joe stays quiet, letting her vent. She turns to him suddenly, her eyes wide. "You don’t even have a job lined up yet! And me? I don’t know if my internship is going to turn into anything. We have nothing, Joe. Nothing!"

"Y/N," he says firmly, standing up.

She doesn’t stop. "I’m not ready for this! We’re not ready for this! I can’t—"

"Y/N!" he says louder, his voice cutting through her panic. She freezes, her chest heaving.

He takes a step closer, his voice calmer now. "Listen to me. I know this wasn’t the plan, okay? I get it. But I am going pro. You know I’ve been working toward the draft, and my agent is confident I’ll get picked. I’m gonna make it, Y/N. And when I do, we’ll be okay."

She stares at him, shaking her head. "Joe, the draft isn’t guaranteed. What if something goes wrong? What if you don’t get picked? What if—"

"I will," he interrupts, his tone steady. "I will. I’m not just doing this for me anymore—I’m doing it for you. For us. For this baby."

Her bottom lip quivers, but she doesn’t say anything. Joe steps closer, taking her hands in his. "I know you’re scared. Hell, I’m scared too. But we’ve got each other, and I’m going to do whatever it takes to make sure you and this baby are taken care of. I promise you that."

Tears spill over her cheeks as she looks at him. "You’re so sure about everything, but I’m not. My parents are going to see this as the end of my life, Joe. The end of everything I’ve worked for."

He nods, brushing a tear from her cheek with his thumb. "Then we’ll prove them wrong. We’ll show them that this isn’t the end—it’s just a new beginning. You’re still going to graduate, Y/N. You’re still going to chase your dreams. And we’ll figure the rest out together."

She exhales shakily, leaning into him as he wraps his arms around her. "I just… I don’t know how we’re going to do this."

"One step at a time," he says, his voice firm but gentle. "We’ll start by telling our parents. Together."

She pulls back, giving him a doubtful look. "That’s easy for you to say. You’re not the one who has to hear my dad’s lecture about how I’ve ‘thrown my life away.’"

Joe chuckles softly, trying to lighten the mood. "Yeah, but I’ll be right there with you. And if he tries to kill me, I’ll just tell him I’m going pro—maybe that’ll distract him."

Despite herself, Y/N laughs through her tears. "You’re ridiculous."

"Maybe," he says, grinning. "But I love you. And I love this baby, even if it’s the scariest thing that’s ever happened to me."

She looks at him, her expression softening. "I love you too."

He pulls her back into his arms, holding her tightly. For the first time all night, she lets herself believe him.

★

Back in their kitchen, the married couple laughs in unison as they recalled the dinner where they told both of their parents. "Oh my gosh! Daddy almost jumped across that table at you!"

"I was scared!" Joe laughed loudly, covering his mouth when he saw Hudson's head pop up over the top of the couch. "Your dad is very intimidating."

"Well, you survived." Y/N insisted, "And we both know I thought my life was over." Joe playfully frowned, "You were pacing so much before that dinner, babe. I thought you were gonna burn a hole in the carpet."

She flicks a bit of water at him, rolling her eyes. "Well, excuse me for being a little freaked out. It wasn’t exactly a normal Tuesday, you know? We were graduating in three months, broke as hell, and had no idea what we were doing."

Joe nods, his smile softening. "I remember how scared you were about telling your parents. But you know what I remember more?"

"What?" she asks, handing him a clean glass.

"How you still managed to push through all that fear and finish your degree on time. You didn’t let anything stop you, not even two babies kicking your ribs during finals."

Y/N shakes her head, laughing. "Don’t act like you weren’t freaking out too. You spent half the night staring at that pregnancy test like it might change if you looked hard enough."

Joe laughs, drying the glass. "Okay, fair. I was terrified. But I knew we’d figure it out. And look at us now."

Y/N glances around the kitchen, her eyes lingering on the family photos on the fridge—the twins’ school pictures, a shot of the four of them at the beach, and a drawing labeled Mama, Daddy, Hudson, and Elijah.

"Yeah," she says softly, her voice thick with emotion. "We’ve built a pretty amazing life, haven’t we?"

Joe sets the towel down and wraps an arm around her waist, pulling her close. "We have. And those two little terrors in the living room? They’re the best thing that ever happened to us."

Y/N leans into him, resting her head against his chest. "I still can’t believe we were worried about not being ready. I mean, we weren’t—but we figured it out."

Joe kisses the top of her head, his voice low and full of love. "That’s because we’re a team, Y/N. Always have been."

Before she can respond, a loud crash comes from the living room, followed by giggles and a triumphant "Wasn't me!"

Y/N groans, pulling back. "Moment's over."

Joe laughs, grabbing a dish towel. "I’ll check on the damage. You finish up here."

As he heads toward the living room, Y/N watches him go, her heart swelling with gratitude. She turns back to the sink, rinsing the last plate as the sound of Joe’s playful scolding echoes from the other room.

She smiles to herself, thinking back to that night all those years ago. It had been terrifying and uncertain, but it led to this—a life full of love, laughter, and a chaos she wouldn’t trade for the world.

[takes1]

I NEED MORE GYM BROS KIRISHIMA AND READER

thank you so much!! this is a fav of mine. i've had like half of this written for a whole year and lost motivation for it. picked it back up a few days ago and i'm rlly excited to post! soft end, so if anyone has suggestions for continuation, i can keep it going.

warnings. nsfw, safe sex, f! receiving oral, big fingers, sharp teeth, size kink

details. nsfw / rough sex / gymbros with benefits / aged up!kiri / fem!reader / mentions of f! masturbation / f! rec oral / clumsy kiri / aftercare, cuddling / mutual size kink / shy reader / support course student!reader / scars thirst / sharp teeth thirst / 2.8k words

🤍 scenario series. part one thru three + more here / kiri headcanons

more links. my ao3. request box is: open!

As soon as the door clicked shut, a calloused hand first draped your thigh over his other leg, then wasted no time to palm your cunt.

"Fuck," He sighed against your mouth to look down at his soaked hand.

It was totally his fault with the leg thing-- embarrassed, you pushed his hand back down and felt warm at his chuckle.

He slid his fingers under your useless panties, eliciting a very sharp, closed-mouth moan and another squirm. He locked you back into his chest.

No guy had spent so much time on you before. Kirishima seemed to get his kicks by pleasing you instead. His habit of waiting around to pull his dick out was a new concept, but you really liked it.

Still, that empty feeling in you was only heightened by his careful attention to your clit, and messy smattering of kisses over the side of your face and neck.

Your hand was already shaking on the back of his hand as he pushed his middle and ring finger into you, smooth and slow with the help of your own lubrication.

"Mmmh- Aah," You scratched on his already heavily scarred knuckles, breathless at how much bigger his fingers were than yours.

"That feel okay?"

His breath brushed by your cheek before he pressed a soft kiss to it. You gave a whimpery, 'Mhm' and completely missed his mouth when you tried to kiss him.

Thankfully, he had no problem holding you by the back of the neck to help -and to keep you still when you tried to pull away-. He lapped up every choked sound and broken phrase that left your lips.

"You're so cute," He muttered, done with keeping you hostage in more drawn-out, clumsy kisses, and pressed his forehead hard into your temple.

The compliment went straight to the tightness forming in your stomach. You squeezed around him, goosebumps formed in your skin.

"Please, just fuck me already," You struggled to get out.

Your head hit his shoulder with the focus it took to not cum around his hand.

The laughter of the man under you made your entire body shake with him. Based on his reaction, you thought he might say no, but were relieved to hear a smiley:

"Yes, ma'am."

Ma'am? He was full of funny names and habits for you.

Once again, that terrible, empty sensation came back tenfold when he took his fingers out in order to carry you over to his bed. He would've rather fucked you on the desk, but the height difference would've made it incredibly inconvenient.

Your back was still to him when he set you down. You slid your arms up so your chest was pressed on his already fucked up sheets. He hiked his shirt up to give your ass a few lovetaps but stopped all too soon.

"You just sit there, nice and pretty for me."

When he saw you poke your head up to watch him root around in his bedside table drawer, he bit the inside of his cheek and palmed a painful throb away.

The sight of a few condoms made you feel a little ashamed that it had completely slipped your mind.

You slid so you could lay on your stomach, heels locked together in the air, and watch him start to tug on his waistband, finally.

A straight-up monster bounced up from his sweatpants, so heavy it looked like it weighed itself away from where it would usually sit closer to his stomach.

You blinked at the slight bend in it and what looked like a scar underneath, then lowered your open mouth to bite your forearm.

He acted like he wasn't looking at your reaction while he plucked a condom from the drawer, but would sometimes glance and never fail to see you still gawking.

"How big is that...?" You whispered. Your eyes were starting to burn from not blinking. Maybe you should've let him stretch you out more.

Kirishima stroked his tortured cock again with a bashful smile, "I-I'm not sure, I've never measured."

You pushed yourself up onto your elbows and sat on your heels to make grabby hands at him.

"Let me hold it."

It was only right to let you feel on him, he concluded after a moment's hesitation.

He was such a beautiful man-- that was all you could think as you took his warm cock in your hands, his entire body bare before your eyes.

"You have a scar--?"

"Yeah,"  He choked, tummy flexing, face twisting at your slow pumps, "Yeah, it's- uh--ha, from my Quirk. I was- 13."

That must've been an insane hospital trip. It was a long scar, too. Poor thing.

You pressed a long, slow kiss to the tip, but it was cut short by his flinch away. He played it off before you could dwell on it with a replacement kiss on the mouth, instead.

He put his knee on the mattress, which brought you into the throws of your ignored ache and inspired you to hook your legs over his bulky thighs.

"Anyways, where were we--?"

Kirishima grinned through a playful groan, seizing the back of your thighs to smush into your chest instead, muffling your delighted laughter with another round of deep, albeit rushed, kisses.

His body was extraordinarily heavy; he was squeezing all of the air out of your lungs in this position.

The gasp you took when he shifted his weight off was one of immense relief- yet full of longing for him to return.

There was a smile so distracting in his crimson eyes when he looked up at you that you didn't notice the one giant arm snaked around your hip, the tongue darting out of his mouth to wet his lips, nor the hook of his fingers under your panties.

"I'll be real careful," He lulled.

Your face grew hot, your heartbeat hastened, at the brief sensation of cold air on your sex. Being the object of intense attention never did get easier, even if he had the goofiest, sharp-toothed smile plastered across his face.

A sharp pang of pleasure hit you like a brick wall. With the messy kisser he was, you should've anticipated his pussy-eating to be just as inconveniently skilled.

"Mm-m, Ah!" You bit the heel of your hand but were robbed of it almost right away.

His free hand trapped your wrist like it was nothing and you felt a smile spreading once more at your useless attempts to free it.

You settled for fixing his long hair up and out of the way, since he had absolutely no intention of helping the cause, and let him slide his rough, heavy hands onto the back of your thighs.

"Mm-mmn," You whimpered at the mercy of his tongue and resolve to get you as slippery as he possibly could, with what little patience you both had left.

He was so good that you didn't care if he'd practiced on a million other girls before you, as long as he just kept edging his tongue around your clit like that.

The man used little to no force to press your thighs up further. His big, warm palms engulfed your hamstrings like they were nothing. Your heart fluttered at the sight.

It was only embarrassing for a moment, because the way he kept lapping at you was downright sinful.

One hand slid down your thigh- you watched as he slicked up two of his middlemost fingers down to the knuckle. Given that his fingers were so long and thick, it was strangely hot watching that happen. He really did keep surprising you.

"I knew you'd taste s'fuckin sweet," He mumbled against your cunt before getting a good position with his hand and sucking at your skin once more.

An uncontrollable whine caught in your throat at the slur in his speech and how easily you took his fingers. Your thighs flexed and twitched as he pumped, nice and slow, filling you up as far as he could reach.

"Oh my- god," Your moans were just noise to you at this point- catching your breath was difficult when your body was in such a state of bliss.

He seethed with a boyish laugh against your bitten-up thigh, "You're takin' me so well- That feel good?"

No man could compare to Kirishima's methodical, yet passionate care around your pleasure.

You gasped as he slipped a third finger in- just as you got accustomed to the stretch of the other two. It's like he could feel for himself when you needed more. And he always had more.

No coherent words that could escape your mouth. He made eye contact with you that you couldn't seem to look away from. He wore a sympathetic grin, understanding that you couldn't tell him just how good you felt with just how far gone you looked.

The tension in your belly was growing all too quickly- you'd be useless if you came now.

But he was so lost in it. You had to tug pretty hard on him to get him to yield. He stalled and you finally found your breath.

"Eij- I," You gasped at his quick grin that gave way to a long, gentle kiss to your clit, "a-Ah-Ha- okay-mm, stop, sto-op-,"

He sighed and slowly earned his pruny fingers back- he made sure to lick every bit of you off of them before he rose to meet you for a tender, but still very messy, kiss.

His cock weighed heavy between you, but it felt much more achievable of a goal now.

If you weren't ready for him now, you'd never be. What was this? Like at least an hour of foreplay?

You were shaky and weak as he lined himself up with your sex after sliding on a condom.

"Let me know if it's too much-," He used his free hand to hold your face, not giving you anywhere else to stare but his attentive gaze, "I don't wanna hurt you."

It helped that you were feeling so empty prior- because as he pushed past your entrance, the realization hit you that you never felt so stretched past your limits before.

A couple taps kept you in the land of the living. You blinked slowly up at him with a bitten lip, practically drunk on the feeling of being split on his cock.

"Y'don't talk much, d'ya?" He huffed, swallowing his own pleasure to keep responsible for yours.

It goes without saying the guy couldn't bottom out without hitting your cervix- and that was a drastically different endeavor depending on the woman, so he didn't attempt it.

You didn't notice.

Lines blurred between discomfort and acute pleasure as soon as he felt you relaxed enough to stuff his thick shaft further into your tight body.

"Can't've fucked ya dumb already," He drawled with a feverish, dirty look in his eyes.

He seethed as your body responded, your thighs tightening around him, tummy stirring at the stretch and that probe of a comment.

You gave a playful grin at how he easily spread your thighs apart, his cock able to stuff you better without your unnecessary flexing.

A gasp racked you at the sensation and you leaned your head back with a whine.

He gave your hip a pinch when you kept trying to make him do it again. He was intrigued at your reactions, and more than willing to oblige with how good you were at taking him.

"Mm-mm, you've gotta open up for me, pretty girl," He lowered himself to drown you in a rough kiss.

You just couldn't catch your breath with him inside of you- like there was no room for air in your lungs when your entire body felt like it was filled with him. A sleepy smile roused at his occasional force.

Soon, with your mouth as a distraction, his pace grew to a less kind speed.

"Mmn-Ah! God-," You yelped, sounds soon to be covered by a firm, calloused hand.

"Shhh," He grinned just briefly- it was overshadowed by a grimace of intense pleasure, "A-ah, you're way too loud."

The incredulous look on his face explained that he clocked exactly how you liked to be fucked as soon as he put it in. There was a reason you went for big guys.

"nd' way too tight for me," He added with an honest groan.

He was slowly sinking into you. All 290 pounds of him. You felt lightheaded, like you were getting pounded to Cloud 9 with the most handsome, blurry face as all you could see.

The hand he used to keep you silent slipped. His hips stalled for a moment.

He asked you something but you couldn't hear it. All you gave was another whimper at his hesitation when you were just getting there. You didn't realize you had been crying until he wiped one away with the rough pad of his thumb.

You blinked away the sting.

"'M fine," You mumbled, smiling at his concern, "You jus'feel so good..."

Another surprised expression could be briefly seen in his eyes, while an excited smile still remained plastered to his jaw.

You were the little freak of his dreams. A match made in heaven.

It was the final confirmation he needed to really put his dick to good use.

Nice and pliable now, you reveled in his slick, heavy body crushing you into his mattress. His hands slid under your ass, a brutal grasp as he picked up pace and force to how you preferred.

No room to move, hardly enough air to keep you intelligible, and fucked senseless under him. Exactly how you fantasized in your own bed right after you first met him.

His grunts and groans at the mercy of your tight cunt were so clear against your ear, his forehead against the sheets.

He kept your adorable sounds muffled with his hulking shoulder in your useless bite.

"Fuck-- a-h, f-uck," A subtle, clipped whine at the end of his curse stroked your ego a bit.

One hand came up to support his weight and fist a section of hair, forcing your head to one side.

"A-h!" You whined again, but this time he smiled at it.

His bottom hand slid to one hip with a brutish squeeze as he brought you down on his cock. The grip on your scalp was electrifying and reassuring all in one.

"Feels so fucking good," He groan-laughed, "God, you--Mmn-! Got such a good pussy,"

You were swimming in the buzz of your climbing orgasm. Drunken, whimpery sounds were coming out of you, but you couldn't register them. His shaky affirmations served as stepping stones towards the strongest build-up you've had in a long, long time.

It crashed over you without more than a mere second's warning-- your nails dug deep trenches down his well-muscled back, as you came hard around his cock.

Your loud mouth was no longer muffled or of his concern other than wanting everyone in the building to hear how fucking good he made you feel.

He watched your body squirm and tremble under him in adulation; he fucked you to completion, but no more.

Tired, weak, and shaky, you had no room to respond to him pulling out of you, his lack of orgasm, or his cuddly shushing. He brought you back down gently, with no pressure, or judgement.

Your head was pressed to his oversized chest, a grounding hand scratching lightly in your hair.

A light, soft blanket over your prickly skin settled you at last. His big, puppy dog eyes met yours with enthusiasm as you peered up at him.

"You're so cool."

Somehow, that compliment stunned you the most out of all his endearing habits and sayings.

His bitten-lip smile matched your embarrassed giggle. "What're you talking about?"

"Just, aah," He showed off those pointy teeth you just couldn't get enough of. You watched them in a delightful and soft daze, "You're so-o good! I've just..."

A bashful sigh, though the graceless palm on your bruising hip didn't express such modesty, "Never been with someone who... could..."

He trailed off. It could've meant many things.

He was a master at keeping his experiences vague, though you could tell it wasn't intentional.

The softness behind his lashes, the speed in which he let up on your hip at your subtle wince, and the hesitancy that characterized him this whole night helped you understand.

The partners he must've been with before-- he probably hurt them. Badly enough to carry that guilt with him to now.

"You made it easy," You slid up to give him a peck on his stubbly chin. "You...take good care of me."

Your body raised as his chest swelled with pride. It threw you a bit off balance, so you slid to lay yourself on top of him, slow and steady. The comfort of his big, warm body was unparalleled.

"We're," Kirishima's rumbly voice tugged you out of a light slumber, "Totally dating now, right?"

His voice didn't sound entirely sure.

You chuckled and rubbed an eye, "Mmm, you still--," A big yawn made him giggle, "Gotta take me to dinner."

He squished a big kiss to the top of your head. Hulking arms linked back over you for extra warmth to let you sleep a while longer.

taglist:

@dough-yo-bu @yellowflowerbub @fairywriter-oracle @kirismoon

@kwiwin @cringingmemeries @leo6472 @nijha2tact @lotusstarr @straows

[awrkive]

[DRABBLE] COLD NIGHTS & BLURRED LINES (m) — JJK.

you were used to jungkook making the first move every single time but this particular night, you couldn't help but change things up a little bit.

PAIRING jungkook x (fem) reader

GENRE r18+ (minors dni pls)

WORD COUNT 4.1k (this is def not a drabble anymore but its like 70% smut anyway saur 🤷🏼‍♀️)

WARNINGS/MISC jk in grey tracksuit 😢 oc is not a procrastinator everybody booed. kinda domestic vibes everyone wants to have what they have including ms delusional me !! this is my literally me fic kinda (this is literally just oc thirsting over jungkook OEBDIDHSJEB) also imagine 3D jungkook guys.... 🙏🏼 smut warnings: oral s*x (m&f receiving, 69 position), penetrative s*x, multiple positions, overst*mulation, creampies, unprotected s*x (dont fls 🙏🏼)

NOTES heyyy so i reread cnbl last night and scrolled thru unanswered messages on my inbox and found these 2 (amongst many IEBDIDHSHD) drabble reqs for cnbl and decided to write it bcs i love and miss them!! unfortunately i lost my ao3 password and i have nowhere to post this so whatever im gonna start posting here again LMFAOOOO. anyway, i hope u guys enjoy this 💗 this is most esp dedicated to the second anon i hate college as well i hope this drabble brings you joy ☺️

‼️CN&BL FULL FIC CAN BE READ HERE

You missed who you were thirty minutes ago.

Before Jungkook arrived, you were extremely focused on the essay you've been stalling to get done since last week.

You were set on finishing the paper tonight, determined to submit it a day prior to the deadline – which is two days from now. You've never been a procrastinator and you wouldn't dare start now. But ever since Jungkook called, arriving a little over five minutes after your conversation on the phone and entering your dorm room, you have never been the same. Gone was your will to finish your essay; it yeeted out the window the moment he came in.

It wasn't that he was doing anything wrong, per se. He wasn't pestering you or doing anything to distract you from doing whatever it was you were doing. During the phone call, Jungkook told you he just wanted to hang around and you were in on it. "As long as I finish this essay without you doing anything funny" – that, was what you said. Joking, a little pointed, when he came barging in your door, socks on and hair still slightly wet from the shower he most probably had at his own apartment.

When you said those words, the goof just wiggled his brows, smirking with a look of mischief written all over his face, and then kissed you in such an unnecessarily passionate way that had you internally keening when he broke away. That gave you an initial idea that he would, indeed, do some funny business. If you were honest to yourself, you wouldn't have really minded that at all.

That was thirty minutes ago. Jungkook surprisingly hasn't tried to touch you at all for the past thirty minutes. In the present, he is just sprawled on your bed watching something on your stupid iPad, airpods plugged in both ears, letting you work in peace on your laptop.

Thirty minutes ago, that would've been fine. Because ultimately, you could focus on your essay and finish it then pass it way before the deadline but no, your problem right this moment does not lie on phonology, it lies on why does Jungkook have to lean his back on the headboard, thick eyebrows meeting each other every now and then as he watched his movies, and put that white t-shirt and grey sweatpants on himself?

You've been having an internal battle with yourself trying to fight the urge to look over your shoulders for him every three damn minutes, groaning quietly as you thought about how Jungkook looked so ridiculously hot doing the bare minimum. Literally nothing. He was doing absolutely nothing. And he was making you feel weird in your belly!

Wait. Is it your period? It ended two weeks ago, though, so that is definitely not that. Maybe you are ovulating? You'd have to check your flow app.

Absent-mindedly, you let out the begrudging moan you've been trying to hide.

"God."

As if alarmed, Jungkook suddenly shoots up and speaks after what felt like centuries.

"You okay? Am I bothering you here?" He said, voice dripping with honey and face full of concern. You got even hornier.

Oh my god. You wanted to cry.

You send him a tight-lipped smile. "I'm fine. And uh, no. You're good."

Jungkook doesn't pry further and goes back to his binge. Meanwhile, you force yourself to think of something.

Another long five minutes later, and you are still halfway done with your essay. The unfinished document only seems to taunt you. So, you let out another sigh, quite quiet this time so you don't make Jungkook think he was being an inconvenience. You made up your mind and just decided to give in to your urges.

You shut your laptop down instead of pressing sleep as you are sure there is no way you can do any more work tonight.

Standing up from your seat, you approach Jungkook on your bed.

He looks up at you the moment you hovered over him, taking his eyes off the iPad. When the mattress dips from your weight, Jungkook's lips stretch into a cute smile.

Your horniness dissipates a little over his adorable face.

"Done?" He asks, lifting a hand over your face to tuck a strand of hair away that you didn't even notice. You shake your head. Jungkook leans down to kiss your cheek. "So, tired?"

You scrunch your nose. "Kinda."

He kisses your mouth when a pout forms there.

"Eaten anything yet?" Jungkook scoots over to the side to make room on the bed for you. You fit yourself in the space, albeit tight (this was a dorm room, alright), and Jungkook is quick to slide his arm under your neck while he still holds the iPad on the other.

"Just reheated some leftover pasta from last night." You cringe over your last meal. It didn't taste good at all but you were way too hungry and delivery took forever to your dorm.

Jungkook seems to know that that pasta was shit, but he doesn't comment on that. Just hums and kisses the side of your head.

Ugh.

"Wanna order something in? Thai?" He suggests, looking at you.

But right now, eating Thai or whatever is the last thing on your mind. Though you would like to eat something else.

You tell him so. Except the last part, of course. Please. You have decorum.

"Uhm, no. I think I'll pass on that. Unless you haven't eaten." you say, playfully pointing a finger to his chest.

"Nah, Taehyung cooked dinner. I'm pretty full." Jungkook says, chuckling.

You had a smart remark on your tongue, something along the lines of, "Then why'd you offer to eat if you already have, weirdo" but to be honest with yourself, you already knew why. Jungkook liked seeing you eat. Dude practically buys most of your meals, now that you think about it.

But your still horny-adled brain went to go and tell your hand to search for his bare stomach under his shirt. And so it did. Forget about having decorum, shame is out the door when you press your palm to the flat surface of his stomach.

"Doesn't feel full at all." You commented, feeling the hard ridges of his abs. You hate them right now. But you would also really, really, like to see them.

Jungkook only chuckles at that. Before he can say anything, you ask him, "Hey, quick question."

"Hm?"

"Can I suck your dick?"

"Huh?" Jungkook, ever the man he is, put the iPad away for the first time since he's been here. Confused, but still, you could not have mistaken the look of pure interest in his face the moment you asked him that.

"I want to suck your dick, if you let me." You say, clearing yourself up. You are putting on a brave face, but internally, you are screaming.

So what if this thing between you has been happening for like… ten months now, almost a year? Jungkook was usually the one to always initiate sex and blowjobs were almost a rare occurrence in your sex life because you told him it hurt your knees but the real reason was because you didn't think you were very good at it. Jungkook never asks for it either, and sometimes you feel bad for only reciprocating handjobs during oral sex quickies but! He never says anything about it so maybe that was fine? Anyway, it's not like this is gonna be your first time sucking him. It's just the first time you initiated with your own words.

"Oh, you're serious?" Jungkook scoots over to his side and lays sideways to prop himself up. "Really?" He has an excited smile on, and you know that because of the way his eyes crinkle.

"Don't make me repeat it." You say pointedly, pushing him a little bit. Jungkook doesn't even budge at the slight attack, only holds your hands in his.

"No, I just… I thought you said no fooling around tonight." He says.

You shrug. "Yeah, well."

You don't expect him to tug you closer to him using his hold on you, and you were thankful you managed to suppress a loud squeal when he laid on his back and caught your whole body on top of his.

"I guess you can't resist my charm, after all." Jungkook says, grabbing a handful of your ass.

"Jungkook, please, you're scaring my lady boner off." You roll your eyes as you adjust yourself on top of him to get more comfortable.

"Take care of my gentleman boner then, baby." He counters and just because of that you avoid the kiss he was about to give you.

"Don't ever say gentleman boner ever again." You pinch his nipple and he let out a laugh at your petty retort. You knew he was sensitive there. But even then, you were starting to feel the growing need concealed under his sweats, and you were set on giving him the blowjob of his life tonight for some reason.

"I have a suggestion to make," Jungkook says suddenly, stopping you from crawling down to his body. You arch your brow at him, he continues, "I don't think we've ever tried sixty-nine, yet, haven't we? Because I also really want to eat you out right now."

"Oh, well, yeah…" you nod. You find yourself heating up at the way he casually tells you the last part.

"So…?"

You haven't really tried that either, and not just with him, but also with your other sex partners that only really summed up to less than four people, and that's including Jungkook. Anyway, the sixty-nine position sounded interesting.

"Okay, sure." You shrug.

"Fuck, you're the best."

This time, you give in to the kiss he gives you and pretty much after that it turns into a heavy make-out session with Jungkook fondling your boobs underneath your overused highschool PE shirt while you ground down against his erection that only kept growing harder as seconds passed.

You are panting when you break away, a string of saliva in between your lips, breathing for some air. Jungkook kisses his way down your neck, suckling on your skin and soothing it with his tongue.

"Take your shirt off," you say, already impatiently tugging at the hem of his clothing.

Without a word, Jungkook frees himself from the fabric. "You too, and your panties. Please."

You chuckle at the "please" but nonetheless straddle him to take your shirt off. Jungkook looks up at you with hooded eyes, massaging the bare skin of your waist as you wriggle your hair out of the neckline. He grips your waist as you lift your bum off his stomach, pulling your panties and shorts down in one go one leg to another.

"Shit," Jungkook hissed at the sight of your glistening pussy that has gotten wet overtime, hands roaming all over your body like he doesn't really know where to touch. Always fascinated and in awe with what you show him, always so eager, so touchy. And you always love his undivided attention. Makes you feel like a princess for some reason. Doesn't help that he calls you that sometimes, too.

"Oh, fuuck," he groaned when you sat on his stomach. You couldn't help but let out a quiet moan, too, feeling his hot skin and your cold pussy touching together. "Angel, fuck, come here, let me kiss you."

You lean down to kiss him and he quickly reciprocates, his tongue entering your parted mouth, swirling and licking inside, taking your breath away. You could feel yourself smearing your wet mess on his abs but you couldn't really care less, not when Jungkook looked like he couldn't, too, squeezing every inch of you he could get his hands on. And they were everywhere, alright. Your breasts, your waist, hips, ass, his thumb on the inside of your thighs, all the while kissing you like he was hungry for it.

Jungkook jostles you a little when he lifts himself up a little to slide down the grey sweatpants you have a love and hate relationship with, his dick shooting up his abdomen and touching your ass as a result.

He stops kissing you.

"Alright, one more minute of you grinding against me will make me nut. Sit on my face now, baby."

Blood shoots up your cheeks, making you feel hot. A little funny, given what you are doing right now. But he can't just be so casual about it! He was asking you to sit on his face like he was telling you the grass is green. Regardless, you kiss him one last time.

"Don't suffocate." You warned him, already reversing your position as easily as you can so that your back is facing him.

You hear Jungkook chuckling from behind. "Please, I'll die happily suffocating in this pussy."

"Please don't talk about dying." You deflect, already feeling so shy about the whole thing. Indeed it was your first time to try this position, and you quite didn't know how to act. You wonder if he's done this already in the past, but found yourself irritated at the thought of him doing this with anybody else. You'd have to assess what that feeling of irritation means later.

"Hmm," Jungkook hums, grabbing the globes of your ass and fondling them before you could even properly place your knees on both sides of his head. With his hold on the flesh, he pulls you closer to him until you feel his breath on your core. "Ah, shit, will never get tired of this pussy, baby. Fuck, you're so wet."

You try to focus your attention on his hard dick against his stomach, veiny and rigid, red at the tip and shining with pre-cum. Wrapping your fingers around the base, you lean down a little more so that you can begin teasing him.

But Jungkook beats you down to it as he licks a long stripe across your pussy. It has you keening and stumbling a little over, feeling so good at the contact of his tongue against your sex. You hear him hiss before he says, "Come on, pretty, sit on my face, don't hover."

You hesitate before giving in, and Jungkook is quick to continue the ministrations of his tongue on your pussy. The position was so new to you but you couldn't help but think it was so good, feeling him this way, albeit still a little conscious about cutting off his air supply. But as Jungkook starts licking and sucking, you remember his cock in your hand and it prompts you to stroke him up and down; slow, because your mind is cloudy from the way you could hear the slick of your pussy from Jungkook's licking.

Leaning down, you kiss the head of his cock, licking his pre-cum off the top. There was Jungkook's groan again, and you thought that was a good sign, then continued to suck his tip a little just to see it getting even redder.

Jungkook suddenly gets more aggressive in the ministrations of his tongue, from his slow yet precise strokes, he starts increasing speed, fingers getting tighter on your asscheeks, the tip of his tongue prodding at your entrance giving you a taste of being full.

It prompted you to whimper, Jungkook only humming, seemingly pleased with himself. Letting out a shaky breath, you resume stroking his cock, twisting your fingers around the base. Soon, you lean even closer so that you can wrap your lips around the head.

Jungkook's groan was a pure sinful sound of pleasure as you did so. Nevermind that he was having his own feast on your pussy, you were determined to make him cum. And to do that was to suck on the tip gently at first, swirling your tongue on the cum that's building up on it. You joined the motion of it with your hand stroking the shaft up and down, cheeks hollowed and sucking the air in your mouth to create a suction that has Jungkook slightly jolting in his position.

"Oh, fuck yeah, baby, that's it, you're so good at this… shit," He says behind you, moving his mouth off your pussy and replacing it with two fingers. Jungkook slides them in easily, the squelching sound so apparent it cannot be mistaken for anything else if there was anybody but you two in the room. "You like this, baby? Hm? You're taking my fingers and my cock so well."

You moaned around his cock, heat starting to spread all over your body as Jungkook began to join his digits with his own mouth, devouring your pussy like he always does when he goes down. You start losing your rhythm on his cock, choking on it a third time now as you haven't really managed to fit it all in your mouth. You've always tried to, but he's always been a little too big for you. If it was a skill issue, you didn't care, Jungkook enjoys it just as much as you do.

When Jungkook rubs your clit, that's when you start shaking on your knees, threatening to crumble down.

As if he knew what was coming, Jungkook suddenly says, "Don't come yet, baby, not now." and you swear you would have actually cried.

What you didn't expect is Jungkook suddenly sitting up, his hands gripping your hips so that you don't jostle on top of him. You let go of his dick as he slides you off his body, and you let him manhandle you into sitting on his cock that slides in too easily like your pussy was fine silk. You now sit on top of him in what seems to be like a reverse cowgirl position, except that you aren't the one in control of your own movements.

"Oh, K-kook – Jungkook!" you yelped as he bounced you on his rigid dick, your body melting against his.

"Shh, take my cock, angel. You can do that for me, right? You're so pretty right now, I wish you could see yourself." Jungkook whispers against your hair, and you pathetically nod, craning your neck up at him to seek for his mouth. He smiles at you, the gentle nature of it so contrasting to the way he was controlling your hips, bouncing you in and out of his cock. "My pretty little angel."

He kisses you passionately, and as seconds passed his hands began to travel upwards to cup your breast, fondling it in his hand and pinching your nipple. You also started to initiate your pwn movements, meeting Jungkook's thrusts from below you, all the whole moaning in his mouth at the pleasure of his cock touching every crevice of your pussy.

The feeling of this never gets old even if you've done it exclusively and quite constantly with each other for the past ten months. Sex with Jungkook is always just so intense it always keeps you on your toes.

"K-kook, I'm cumming," you gasped in his mouth, feeling that build up in your belly

"Hm," Jungkook leaves your boob in favor of your pussy. Kissing you one last time on the mouth, he leans against your shoulder to watch as he spreads your nether lips. You look down to his hand there, fingers spreading the lips apart witnessing your own hole getting split open by his engorged cock. The sight was so lewd and obscene you couldn't help your moan. Then, Jungkook begins rubbing your clit again, fast and with a purpose, this time to make you finish. And he finally gives you the green light to do so. "You can cum now, baby."

And as if prompted by his simple words, you came, feeling a gush of wetness coming out of your pussy. You watch the way Jungkook kept his fingers in there, massaging your hole and kissing your neck.

"Jungkook…" you bury your face into the crook of his neck as you come down from your high, pussy throbbing and spasming from the intense feeling of cumming. He did edge you from when he ate you out.

"Good girl."

And again, Jungkook changes your position. From sitting up, you are now laid against the bed again, with him switching your positions so now he's the one hovering and you underneath him. He grabs your hips up and enters your pussy once again, sliding his cock in and out to chase his own orgasm. Your moans only encourage him to go faster, his grunts filling the room.

"Oh, that's it, Kook, you come for me too." You say, reaching for his stomach with one hand and fondling your own boob with other for his own consumption. Jungkook always liked seeing you play with them.

"Yeah, you're so sexy like that," he says, even picking up his speed higher.

Soon, he was cumming with a pained groan, and you didn't expect to cum a second time the same time he did.

Another gush of slickness slides down your pussy while Jungkook pulled out completely. But he was putting it in again a second later, rubbing his dick against your core. You sigh, partly at the sensitivity but also how pleasurable it all still felt even though you've come twice now in the span of almost what? – thirty minutes? Maybe an hour?

"Pretty fucking pussy you've got here, baby," Jungkook says before pushing his cum back into you, making you cry out. "Never gonna get enough of this. Of you."

You whimpered, clinging to his forearms as he continued his actions.

"Cum for me one more time?" He asks, staring deeply into your eyes.

And you couldn't possibly do that. Coming twice was not at all what you envisioned your night to be, thrice was a heart attack. But at the same time, you couldn't really resist his pleading eyes and his deep voice and his still hard cock pushing his creampie deeper into you.

So you nod your head, and Jungkook leans down to swipe the strand of hairs that sprouted all over your face overtime, wet on the hairline from your sweat, just before he slides his cock all the way in again, repeating that in and out routine, the slamming and the bottoming out, the quickening oh his pace and your toes curling once again that impeded your orgasm for the third time that night.

When you finished, exhausted and spent the fuck out, Jungkook laid on your boobs and kissed all over, playing with one of your nipples in his other hand. You were flat on the bed, dead weight, looking up at the ceiling and closing your eyes to cool yourself from what had just happened.

"Okay, that's enough, Kook, we gotta clean up." You say, massaging the soft curls on the top of his head.

He only let out a non-committal hum.

"Jungkook."

"Yes, baby?"

"Enough sex. I'm fried." You say, pulling his hair slightly to make him look up at you. But that was a bad decision of course 'cause he only seemed to enjoy the teasing.

"Just saying hello to these amazing boobs of yours." You rolled your eyes at his retort, nonetheless accepting it.

"Thanks, I guess."

Eventually, Jungkook stopped being clingy and finally found the will to fetch a wet rag from the bathroom. He cleaned you up and and you didn't bother dressing up except the panties you asked him to get for you. Soon after that, you cuddle together in bed.

"Hey," Jungkook suddenly whispers behind you, fingers massaging your hip, mouth press to your head. You hum. "I think we should do that more."

You try to look over your shoulder. "What? The sex?" you say, chuckling.

Jungkook pinches your hip. "Yeah, I told you we should have sex everyday. But that's not the point, I meant the sixty-nine."

"Well, first of all, having sex everyday is physically not possible," you roll your eyes though he couldn't see. "Second, I enjoyed that position, too. A little bit distracting, but definitely really enjoyable."

Jungkook agrees. "I think you just gave me the best blowjob of my life, if you wanna know."

"Really?" you confirmed, smiling up at him.

"Almost nutted when you sucked my head."

You chuckle, slapping his chest and roll your eyes again for how many times now?

"No but seriously…" Jungkook suddenly turns, indeed, serious. But he's still smiling, though, just a little less playful with his tone. "What was with you tonight? Did you finish that essay?"

Oh god, your essay. Right.

You feel your cheeks heat up a little remembering how you were basically thirsting over him him a while ago. And for no reason too.

Despite cringing internally, you shrug. "No, not really, but submission's two days from now and I just wanted to kiss you, I guess."

That made Jungkook's smile even bigger. He doesn't say anything more but only scoots even closer to your neck, kissing your hair.

"Hm, I always wanna kiss you too, and I do. But I love it when you ask for it."

You think you'll start doing it more, too.

all rights reserved © AWRKIVE , 2023

[navybrat817]

The Dad Diaries: Welcome Home

Pairing: Dad!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Summary: Bucky reflects on the first night with his son home and puts his thoughts to paper.

Word Count: Over 1.2k

Warnings: Fluff, reflecting, first time dad, slight feels (it's me), Bucky Barnes (he's a warning and a dad, okay?).

A/N: Welcome to The Dad Diaries! This AU will focus on Bucky and his relationship with his son (and you!) ❤️ Thanks to the beautiful @whisperlullaby for giving this intro a look and assuring me it wasn't garbage, but any and all mistakes are my own. Divider by the talented @firefly-graphics . Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

Bucky stared intently at the open blank journal that sat in the middle of his office desk. He had picked up the pen a few minutes ago, but hadn’t written a single word. Why did he feel stuck? Better yet, what was he thinking by doing this? Reading often came easy to him, but writing? That was something else entirely.

It was also something he wanted to do.

He ran a hand over his face with a sigh and wondered if he should call it a night, crawl into bed with you, and try tomorrow. No, he didn’t want to push it off before he even began. Glancing at the monitor, he heard your voice in his head, a memory of something you told him in the early stages of dating:

The best writing comes from the heart. Write what you and your heart love because no one knows that story better than you.

Bucky had plenty of stories to tell. How he became a hero and a good man after years of pain and darkness. Or how he fell in love with you and became your husband.

And his newest adventure of becoming a father.

He wasn’t sure how to be a dad yet, but he knew he loved his son. That was more than enough to start. And with a smile tugging at his lips, he put the pen to paper.

Hey, Nugget,

My name is James Buchanan Barnes. Most people call me Bucky. Your mom calls me her husband and I’m the luckiest man in the world for that, especially since she gave me the greatest gift I could ever ask for: you.

Your name is James, too. Your mom doesn't know if we’ll call you Jamie or JJ, but I have a feeling you'll hear a bit of both. And one day, I’ll get to hear you call me Dad. Or Dada or Daddy or Papa.

Whatever makes you happy.

He paused in his writing when he thought he heard something on the monitor. His eyes flickered to the screen again and he breathed a little easier when he saw that his baby was still sleeping soundly in the middle of the crib. It wouldn’t stop him from checking on him later, just to be on the safe side.

I’m so glad you’re home. In fact, tonight is your first night in the nursery. I hope you like it here. To quote Ralph Waldo Emerson: “A house is made with walls and beams: a home is built with love and dreams.”

Yeah, your old man likes to read. Maybe you will, too. I even have an original copy of The Hobbit and would love to give it to you when you're older.

Books lined the far wall of Bucky’s office, many of them worn from the amount of times he read them. He made sure Jamie’s room had a reading nook, too. It was one of the only things he asked for when the two of you designed the nursery.

I hope you get enough sleep tonight. Your mom, too. You both did great at the hospital and deserve all the rest you can get.

Would you believe me if I said I was a nervous wreck when I brought your mom in, but tried not to let it show? People call me strong, but I don’t think I ever witnessed true strength until I saw how steady of a rock she was. She blew me away, which didn't surprise me. She amazes me every day.

Hearing your first cry stopped my heart and brought tears of joy to my eyes. After nine months of waiting and talking to your mom’s stomach, you were finally here. And seeing her hold you made me fall in love all over again.

Sorry if that sounds sappy, but it’s true. She looked right at me with happy tears in her eyes and said, “Bucky, look! Look at what we made! It's our little Nugget!” and my heart swelled. She insisted on calling you that and it rubbed off on me. Believe me when I say that you are the luckiest baby in the world to have the mother that you do.

He stopped writing again to glance at his wedding band, smiling all over again. He thought your love filled his heart before, but it overflowed now. It warmed him like nothing else ever could.

You’re probably wondering why I’m writing this since a lot of time will pass by the time you read this. Sometimes I may write to remember things I’m afraid I’ll forget. Other days I’ll write to reflect and get the words out when my mind is too loud. But my hope is that this will be a gift to you.

A bond for the two of us.

As you grow, I’ll fill the pages with the memories of you and our family. I’ll tell you about my past and how it shaped me into the man I am today. How your mom and I met and how I somehow convinced her to fall in love with me. And I’ll be sure to tell you about the day she told me we were going to have you and how that news changed my life for the better.

He swallowed the lump in his throat before he continued.

I also plan to fill this with your milestones. Like your first smile. Is it selfish if I hope to see it first? If not me, your mom. She’d love that. Your first step. Being selfish again, but I hope it’s me you walk toward so I can pick you up and tell you how proud I am. And your first word. I hope it’s Mama.

Though I won’t object if you say Dada.

Bucky chuckled as he imagined the look of betrayal on your beautiful face if your son said “Dada” first instead of “Mama”.

I’m sure some days I’ll have more to say than others. If I’m lucky, I can pass on life lessons and words of wisdom. Some days though I may not say the right thing and I know I’ll stumble along the way as I figure out how to be the best dad to you. I say “best” and not “perfect” because perfection doesn’t exist. Except for you and your mom.

The beauty of it is that I don’t have to go it alone. I’ll have your mom by my side to help guide and protect you and to watch you flourish. And my hope is that you know as you look through the pages how much we love you.

Even on days I may not get it right, I’m your dad, you’re my son, and you’ll always have a home with me and a place in my heart.

I’ll write more when I can, Nugget. Until then, I love you.

Always,

Dad

Bucky set the pen down as he exhaled. It wasn't perfect, but it didn't have to be. It was a start. As long as he put his heart into his words, it would shine from the pages.

And he couldn't wait for all the adventures he’d have with his little Nugget.

I hope you lovelies are excited to take this journey with Bucky. Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

[thatdesigirl17]

concert

jess mariano x fem!reader

warnings: smoking, suggestive talk, jess and reader being possessive

haven't written in a long time so hope you like this, requests are open!

It was the weekend, the day of the concert for which Y/N had bought tickets for them weeks ago. When she heard they were coming to perform in Hartford, she knew she had to buy those tickets because Jess liked them. 

So they were driving to Hartford in Jess’s car and what Jess could think about was her, he had told her that already ever since he picked her up from your house and saw her outfit, a tight, black, short skirt with a cropped black shirt and heeled boots and to top it off, she wore a leather jacket, his leather jacket that drowned her. It made him go crazy for her, he always liked seeing her in his clothes, and it would always fuel his possessive nature. She loved seeing him like this, trying his best to control himself because of her and she was gonna make this harder for him. 

During the entire ride, he kept stealing glances at her, putting his hand on her thigh and being distracted until she came up with a deal, for him to behave himself and control his desires and she would stay the night at his apartment doing whatever and however he wants, a deal that Jess was more than happy to agree to. 

Jess parks the car right outside the venue as she gets off and waits by the front of the car for him, he walks over to her, a sly smirk on his face as he holds her hips, leaning her against the bonnet of the car. 

‘You made a deal, Jess.’, she says looking up at him, placing her hands on his chest. ‘Yeah and I’m just sealing the deal.’, he says smugly before leaning in and kissing her, his body trapping her against the car, pulling her closer his hands now encircling her waist. She kissed him back instantly her hands snaking up to his shoulders from his chest. He breaks the kiss, both of them breathless, ‘Back to behaving myself.’ 

They enter the stadium, the place packed and buzzing with people. 

‘This place is overly crowded.’, Y/N remarked as they entered. Jess looks around and nods, agreeing with her. It’s even difficult for them to move around without bumping into other people. He keeps a protective hand on her waist, guiding her through the crowd, his possessive nature unrevealing itself. They walk a bit closer to the stage, now surrounded by a mass of people all around them.

‘You alright?’, he asks leaning down, closer to her ear, to be heard from the noise of the crowd. ‘I’m fine.’, she replies nodding. Jess nods, relieved to hear that you're okay despite the crowded conditions. He keeps a close eye on the people around her, making sure no one accidentally bumps into her or tries to get too close. His hand stays firmly on her waist, his touch is possessive and protective. ‘Alright, but let me know if you feel uncomfortable, okay? I can try to make more space for you if you need.’ ‘And how will you even do that?’, she asks sarcastically, knowing that there is really little space for everyone to move around. Jess grins at your question, his eyes lighting up with mischief

‘Oh, I've got a few ideas…’, he shifts his position, moving even closer to her until his body is almost pressed fully against hers. His hand on her waist tightens its grip, pulling her against him even more, his body acting as a shield between her and the rest of the crowd. 'How's this? Comfortable enough for you now?’

‘You know the only thing I can see now is you, right? And we're here to see the band.’, she says, her tone feisty. ‘Like you’d want it any other way.’, he grins, teasing her, leaning towards her ear and whispering, his voice sultry. ‘You’re supposed to behave yourself.’, she says pushing him back slightly so that she can look at him. Jess smirks, looking down at her, his hands roaming up and down her sides, ‘I’m behaving myself…just making sure you’re safe and close to me. Don’t want you bumping into someone, now do we?’ 

She hums along, smirking, knowing exactly how much of a tease Jess can be when he comes to it. She pushes him away and moves slightly so she’s right in front of him, her back against his chest, and then takes his hand and wraps it around his waist, ‘How’s this? I’m all yours to keep safe and I can actually see the band.’ ‘Perfect.’, he smiles, planting a kiss on the side of her neck, pulling her closer to him. 

The place seems to have gotten more crowded in a matter of minutes as the band is about to go on stage. He feels the people around them press closer, the heat and proximity of the confined space only stirring up his possessive nature even more. He keeps her tightly held against his chest, his arms like a vice around her body. He mutters in your ear, his voice a mix of desire and frustration. ‘Damn, it's getting more crowded in here. People need to back off. You alright, Y/N?’ She nods in response, her hands placed on his jacket-clad arms around her waist. 

Jess fishes a cigarette out of his pocket, Y/N looking at him over her shoulder as she feels him move. ‘Needed a smoke to distract me. You're too damn tempting right now.’, he explains, pulling her flush against his chest as he leans forward, his other hand leaving his waist for a moment as he lights the cigarette with her still between his arms, the proximity making her breath hitch. He lights it, taking a deep drag as he tries to calm his frayed nerves. He lets out a plume of smoke, the acrid smell filling the air around them. He returns his other hand firmly to your waist, a possessive gesture. He keeps the cigarette between his lips as he takes another drag, the smoke wafting around them both. She takes the cigarette from his hands as she takes a drag herself, her body relaxing more against him, handing the cigarette back to him.

‘Damn it, you’re making this way harder for me, aren’t you?’, he mutters, looking down at her smoking his cigarette. ‘I would move, but there is no space.’, she smirks, shrugging. Jess's eyes rake over your form, taking in the way you're pressed tightly against him, the closeness making his possessive side even harder to ignore. He mutters under his breath, his voice a bit deeper, ‘Damn, you're right. There's no space here. I can't move, and you're too damn close. It's like I'm being tortured, having you this close but not being able to do everything I want to you. It's driving me crazy.’ She chuckles, her smirk growing wider, as she takes the cigarette from him again, taking another drag. She knew that it turned him on when she smoked and it was just another perk right now. She places her hand a little above her shoulder, for him to take the cigarette, but instead, he leans down, his head almost touching yours as he takes a drag, the cigarette still in her hands. The proximity only made her plan backfire. He takes a deep drag, the smoke swirling around you both before he moves his head back up. ‘You’re a damn tease, Mariano.’, she says looking up at him, her words making him smirk. ‘You’re the one to talk.’, he says smugly as the band finally comes onstage and the crowd breaks into a roaring cheer. 

Jess's head snaps up at the sudden sensation of someone bumping into her, his eyes narrowing as he looks over to see who it is. The possessive nature inside him flares up again, his arms tightening around her waist protectively.

‘Who the hell do these people think they are, bumping into you like that? Goddamn idiots.’, he says her voice irritated. ‘Crowds are so not your scene.’, she chuckles, rubbing his arm to comfort him a bit. He nods still eyeing people around them. ‘Jess, relax, we’re here because you love this band, not to play bodyguard, so enjoy yourself.’, she says laughing. He nods, loosening his grip ever so slightly as the band starts with their first song of the night. The sight of his favourite band starting to play makes a spark of excitement flicker in his eyes, she looks at him, smiling to herself as she sees him excited and happy. 

Jess watched Y/N, a small smile forming on his face, as she swayed to the beat, the sight of her body moving against his making his chest tighten with want, his eyes roaming all over her, as he mouths the word himself, tapping his feet with the rhythm. He leans down, his voice low as he speaks in her ear, his breath hitting against her skin, ‘You’re making this so hard for me. Moving like that when you’re pressed against me.’ 

A smirk forms on her lips, she says, leaning her head on his shoulder so that he can hear her through the loud music, ‘Just having fun.’, she grins as he sighs, her actions affecting him, her eyes flicker onto a group of girls nearby. They look at them, stealing glances, checking out Jess and giving her disgusted looks. She sighs, her possessive side coming out, as she leans in further, kissing his neck. 

‘Y/N…’, he says warningly, his grip on her tightening. She sucks and bites on his neck, leaving a mark on him, claiming him as hers. He inhales sharply, arching his neck to give her more access. She smiles against his skin, kissing his neck, moving upwards towards his jaw, leaving another mark there as well for everyone to see. He smirks and chuckles knowing exactly what she’s doing. ‘Really marking me up, huh?’, he says as she cups his cheek and kisses him, he kisses him back deepening the kiss as the band plays in the background. She breaks the kiss, panting looking up at him, ‘Now they’ll know that all they can do is only look at you.’ 

He smirks, as he looks around to see what she's talking about, ‘Jealous much?’ She rolls her eyes as he grins cockily. ‘Don’t roll your eyes, you were jealous.’, he says his grin widening. ‘Let’s just listen to the music’, she says, narrowing her eyes at him, and turning her attention back to the band. He chuckles as he returns his attention to the band as well. They spend the entire night vibing, dancing and singing along, while Jess also teases Y/N any chance he gets, loving to rile her up.

[moneypriestess]

OK, se we all know ghostspeak, right? It's a language for ghosts that comes from the ghost zone, and basically only halfas and ghosts can speak it on earth, but what if it's a forgotten language on earth?

----

It existed thousands of years ago, but slowly died off until no one remembered it.....until Tim went snooping in the house of mystery and came across an ancient book written in a language he didn't recognise.

After asking cough cough blackmailing cough John for the book Tim took it home and somehow forgotten about it, for about a week.

Now, during the week the book had been sitting in his room, Tim had gotten into an argument with Bruce, then with Alfred over his sleep, or lack thereof, and forced into decaf coffee for the rest of the month. So he was pretty frustrated, annoyed, and looking for revenge.

When Tim saw the book sitting on his desk innocently, he had a brilliant idea, a magnificent wonderful show stopping idea that would get his sweet sweet revenge.

Now, remember that Tim's brain is running on decaf coffee, no sleep, and no dopamine, it would not be too far fetched for him to think that because Alfred is obviously immortal he would know this ancient language, so Tim could learn this ancient language and insult his cooking in his (maybe) mother tongue! Obviously, it's a low blow, but revenge changes a person.

Tim spent the next month studying that book, staying locked in his room like the 'good grounded boy' he was. Obviously, Bruce knew something was up, but it didn't seem like Tim was up to a mastermindfull plan that might destroy or recreate gothams crime ring, so he let mumbling studying boy be.

Tim finally shut the book with a released sigh and sat up, cracking his back of the kinks and smirking at the victory he could already practically taste on his tongue. Today was the day. He was fairly confident that he had successfully broken through the language barrier and fluently learnt the once forgotten language.

Tim swaggered (yes, I said that, don't kill me) into the dining room and took a seat next to danny, his newest kindest and most naive brother, before looking towards everyone gathered today. It was the anniversary of Danny's first adoption, and everyone was here to celebrate it, even Jason of all people, though he could understand why. Since the two met, they had a seemingly special bond, and everyone knew Jason was Danny's favroute. No matter how hard dick tried to be.

Waiting until the food had come out and danny had successfully poked and prodded his plate to his liking, a weird ritual he did "to make sure it won't attack him" danny had said the first time anyone asked, everyone began eating. Tim hid a tiny smirk behind his bowed head as he finally said the words he had been waiting for all month.

"Looks like you're losing your touch, Alfred"

A second passed, no one says anything and Tim has just a smidgen of regret, did he say it right? Did he mispronounce something and make a fool of himself?

"Sniffle"

Tim's head shoots up to Alfred's, he only wanted to shock him and insult him a little bit! He didn't want him to start crying.

Yet Alfred's eyes were dry, and instead of looking at Tim, heck, no one was looking at Tim. They were all looking to the side of Tim, where danny sa-

Oh no, danny.

Tim swivelled his head and let his jaw open in shock as he sees danny full on breaking down, tears and snot covering his face that he desperately tries to wipe away as Jason kneeled beside him and tried to comfort him, the same static noises that Tim had made just before coming from his mouth.

Yet these were different, more confident in the tone and more soft and comforting than whatever Tim had said.

"Not-kill-dare-day-dann-calm-"

Tim could barely recognise the words coming from Jason's mouth and paled as he realised what that meant. It meant that he should have spent longer learning from the book, it meant he shouldn't have tried this in front of the entire family, it meant he had said something completely different than what he meant to say, the only question now is.

'What the fuck did I say?'

[willows-peak]

*･ﾟ✧ Sukuna's Favorite Toy

aka sukuna having way too much stamina

tags: fem! reader, porn without plot, multiple orgasms (you and sukuna), overstim, a single spank, he calls reader a bitch once, lotus position, big dick sukuna, creampie, breeding kink near the end

MDNI

word count: 1k

a/n: happy new yearssss. this was written at like 2 in the morning and i think it's very obvious lulz.

⋆｡˚ ♡ You shook as you fell against Sukuna's hard chest, panting as he grunted. "What's the matter, you getting tired?" He said, his tone dripping with false concern. "Can't....m-move...." You nodded into his neck, earning a loud laugh from the King. "I knew it. Humans are always so fragile.." He muttered, smiling at how you tried to keep moving your hips but failing miserably at it. You were just so determined to be good for him, how could he not reward you a little bit? 

With a quick movement of his hips, you were slightly repositioned so he could thrust up into you. And thrust he did, good god. 

You yelped as his cock was suddenly pistoned up into your pussy, his hands coming to squeeze and slap at your ass. "That's much better, isn't it baby?" You could barely get a word out from how fast he was going, broken moans and gasps being the only thing your mouth would make now. "Ssssuk-una!-" You moaned out, Sukuna flashing a toothy grin down at you. You felt your mind start to fizzle out with how effortlessly he could move your body up and down, his sharp nails poking into the flesh of your ass as he kept thrusting. 

"Fuck, this pussy is so wet... All for me, huh? Feels this good because of my cock, right?" He egged you on, grin falling when you failed to respond to him. "Aww, what, am I going too fast? Can't talk?" He spoke lowly, a particularly hard thrust making you jolt, legs trembling against Sukuna's built and toned thighs. "T-too f-aaass', ah! is' too- pleaase is' too goooodd..." You droned out, tears welling up in your pretty eyes as you felt a familiar hot coil start in your belly.

You could do nothing but continue moaning as Sukuna laughed at your state, pushing your hips back enough for his cock to hit your g-spot better. "Is that better?" He cooed, leaning forward and licking the stray tear of pleasure that rolled down your cheek. 

"Yesyesyesyesyes- good good good good so good so good, ple-ase mmake me cum, w'nna cum, please please-" You stumbled out, a line of drool falling down your chin as you were quickly brought closer to your orgasm. Sukuna was relentless, your pussy as good as a fleshlight to his cock as he spreads you open further. His fingers shifted down to where you two met, pressing down  on chuckling at how much you had to stretch for his cock. 

"Cum on my cock, do it, show me how much you fucking love this, bitch." He groaned in your ear, his fingers moving up to your clit and rubbing hurriedly. 

You cried out his name loudly as you were nearly thrown off the edge, your orgasm crashing down in wave after wave after wave of ecstasy. By some miracle, Sukuna at least slowed down his thrusting, grinding your hips back and forth on his cock while you slowly rode out your orgasm. 

You flopped back against his chest, any semblance of energy in you now sapped out. Sukuna's movements didn't stop, of course, because why would they? Did you think you were done because you already came a few times? Oh you poor thing...

What you'd come to realize is that you're finished when Sukuna is finished. Where's that limit, exactly? I suppose you'll be the one finding out tonight.

----

Sukuna roughly groping your tits, grunting and panting into the crook of your neck as he snapped his hips down into you. God, how long has this been going on? You didn't bother to keep counting after the 3rd time he came inside you, and who knows how long ago that was. All you know is that you felt full, every single inch of Sukuna's disgustingly big cock filling your pussy, his cum seeping out of you and making a small puddle underneath the two of you. 

Sukuna was relentless, clearly loving how fucked out you were sounding. "Fuck yes, cum again for me, all over my fucking cock, yes yes yeeessss..." he'd chant while a hand was quickly rubbing your clit. You could barely register your orgasm this time, everything swirling together in a mix of painful overstimulation and the high of your orgasm so much that you gave up on thinking. 

Sukuna's cock was just so big, thick and long and able to hit spots your fingers couldn't even dream of reaching. Sometime tonight, you realized the reason Sukuna was so giddy was that he knew you couldn't replace this feeling. This full body exhaustion mixed with a never ending need for more, more, more. He was the only one who could give it to you, and he'd make sure you'd never get enough of it.

You let out a broken cry of his name when he gave a mean thrust inside you, shifting your legs around to have them pressed up against your chest. Angling your hips up like this let him reach even deeper inside you that much easier, Sukuna wasting no time to continue to ruin you in this new position. 

"G'na... cum, n you're- g'na take it, ok?" He groaned out, his controlled and calm tone from the beginning of the night all but evaporating to mirror his near manic level of excitement. He watched with such intensity watching your pussy weakly clench around his cock, your scratchy voice calling out his name and your hickey bruised and bouncing tits with his name written on them-

Sukuna threw his head back and cackled as he came again, swearing and wiping the sweat starting to appear on his brow, not stopping his pace through his orgasm. "Gonna get you pregnant with my kid, gonna be my fucking baby maker-" He laughed lowly as he watched your head thrash to the side, your back arching off the mattress. 

He roughly grabbed your chin and turned your head back towards him. "Don't you dare look away from me, look at me when I'm knocking you up." He growled the last part out, leaning down to your ear and breathing into it as he moved. 

Aren't you just so lucky to have him?

[cottagecore-raccoon]

Since the Christmas season is upon us, I thought I'd recommend some of my favorite Good Omens fics that put me in the holiday spirit:

What Are You Doing New Year's Eve by theshoparoundthecorner (40k)

“Bit of an odd tradition, if you ask me,” he said, if not to get his mind off the longing that had settled in his chest. Aziraphale shrugged. “I think it’s rather sweet. A kiss for good luck. Seems a nice way to start the year. Very human.” Crowley nodded. “Can’t seem to keep their hands off each other, that lot. Always finding excuses. First it’s mistletoe at Christmas, then it’s luck for the New Year…” “Well there’s no need to be so grouchy about it,” Aziraphale said. “I think it’s lovely.” Crowley’s heart ached a little more as he watched Aziraphale smile up at the glowing numbers on the building above them. Yeah, he thought, lovely. Five times Crowley thought about kissing Aziraphale on New Year's Eve, and one time he did.

Snow Angel by Vagabond (14k)

Human!AU. Aziraphale needs a date to his brother's Christmas party to avoid getting set up with someone. Anathema suggests Crowley, the office bad boy. They go, get snowed in, and have a heart-to-heart that ends in a Happy Christmas. From a prompt: Human!AU: Aziraphale needs a date for family Christmas. He invites the office rebel/bad boy, Crowley.

all i need, darling, is a life in your shape by deadgreeks (14k)

After everything, Aziraphale and Crowley, by unspoken agreement, begin sharing their lives. --- Why? Aziraphale wanted to ask him, why millennia of the way things were, and now this? But while Crowley seemed to have little issue upending every unspoken rule they’d ever written for themselves, Aziraphale was not so flexible, and they had spent thousands of years never quite addressing whatever it was this had stemmed from. Words, Aziraphale had always felt, were for bickering about where to eat for lunch, or hashing out ontological debates, or other trivial nonsense; there was no need to trifle with the imprecision of language, with phrasing and the possibility of being misconstrued, when it came to important matters if the other person simply understood, without needing it said. Six thousand years ago, when Aziraphale had met Crowley on the wall of Eden, watching the first two humans set out to begin the rest of history, something deep within him, more central even than his Grace, had thought, oh, it’s you, and that had been enough for him--for both of them, he assumed--for three millennia. However much he wanted to ask, he didn’t know how. The words simply weren’t there.

Shelter from the Storm by AppleSeeds (13k)

They're coworkers in town for a conference, but a storm has knocked the power out in the hotel where they were supposed to be staying, so Crowley and Aziraphale brave the storm and find their way to a charming little B&B, which has one room available, and it's the honeymoon suite, which only has one bed, and now Aziraphale is injured and needs to be looked after, and oh no now the power's out here too but at least they have the soft flickering glow of the candlelight but OH NO the heating's gone off too and it's getting VERY cold and Newt's the one trying to fix it... whatever will Aziraphale and Crowley do? AKA, what happens when I try to squeeze as many tropes as I possibly can into one story.

The Anon Before Christmas by foolishlovers (67k)

When Crowley’s friend, blogging buddy and business partner Anathema announces her annual Secret Santa Exchange on Tumblr, she is very adamant Crowley should join this year. The old-fashioned (but admittedly compassionate) man he gets assigned to send anonymous messages to every day until Christmas sounds awfully similar to the fussy bookseller that his friends adore, yet Crowley tries to avoid at all costs. But surely his friends would have mentioned if Aziraphale had taken an interest in the Bad Omens fandom as well… right? Or: An Enemies to Lovers Secret Santa Tumblr AU.

I could definitely use some more recs, so reblog with your favorite holiday fics! Self recs more than welcome :)