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ckret2 · 9 months ago

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At some point, the Axolotl must've witnessed the aftermath of the Euclidean Massacre.

As you can see, Bill is very happy and definitely not at all traumatized and doing great and look at all these followers he's found who are definitely alive.

Here, have a fic about the Axolotl, the birth of the Nightmare Realm, and Bill trying so so hard to convince himself that he's the hero.

####

To the mortals he swam past, with their different calendars and their different ways of perceiving time, the great Axolotl's migration through space and between dimensions was an event of great note: his passing marked eclipses, tsunamis, festivals, omens, meteor showers; his migration was studied by astronomers and his position was marked in astrological birth charts.

To the Axolotl, he was on his daily commute home. He could take an interdimensional portal, but swimming was better for the environment and he could use the exercise.

He passed by the same two dimensional wall every day. It was covered with many little worlds, and so many of them populated with little mortals, and he'd never paid any particular attention to the wall—until yesterday. A bold little triangle had shouted at him as he passed. It had been an amusing conversation—first contact was always fun—but he'd been busy and couldn't talk more than a moment, just long enough for the Axolotl to be charmed that a lower-dimensional creature had yelled at him and for the triangle to be shocked that a higher-dimensional creature had answered. The triangle had told him that, to his two-dimensional people, these shadows on the wall, the Axolotl was an eclipse: they marked the time by the shadow he cast on their flat world during his commute.

He hadn't even learned the triangle's real name. The triangle had refused to tell him, instead introducing himself as the "Magister Mentium." Teacher of minds? Maybe it was a job title.

Between the nightmare of a case the Axolotl was currently handling and the fact that he'd had to stay late working, he'd nearly forgotten about yesterday's fascinating little meeting until he was leaving on his nightly commute. He didn't know how long the tiny shapes' life cycles were; he hoped the little triangle was still alive today. If not, maybe he'd left behind descendants.

But when he came up to the wall, it was gone.

The vacuum reeked of burning hydrogen.

The Axolotl stopped, puzzled. The wall wasn't empty, wasn't damaged, wasn't going through heat death—the entire thing was missing. No rubble. Surely it hadn't been demolished for some new construction? It had been in good condition. It was a fairly new plane of reality, likely under fifty billion years old. And it had admittedly been a few eons since the Axolotl had studied dimension use & zoning law, but last he checked it was unlawful to demolish a populated dimension without transplanting the growths first—which took much longer than a day. So what could possibly have done this? And what he saw behind the wall...

Something was very wrong. He started moving again, faster, looking for someone who could tell him what was happening. He kept the ragged rip in reality left by the missing wall in his peripheral vision. Stars and stardust slowly fell in, sucked through the tear. The wall must have come down by accident.

Nobody would have knowingly left behind such a large hole to Dimension Zero.

Assuming he was looking at Dimension Zero; he wasn't sure he was. Beneath all other dimensions was supposed to be a void, an empty in-between space. The zeroth "dimension" was simply reality's center point, the not-dimension between all dimensions; it wasn't a place. But with the two dimensional wall gone, he didn't see reality bending in toward a point like he should. He saw a roiling, nauseating mass of blinding colors, thrashing around each other like a frightened pile of injured worms.

Far in the distance, a full reality away, he saw a faint line of blue light.

It was several minutes before he began to run into other people. He passed a crew of cosmic firefighters and their ships, spread out over a span of space wider than an asteroid belt. The fact that they didn't appear to currently be fighting any fires was more disconcerting than a full blaze would have been. An eerie tension hung thick over the scene like invisible smoke. As the Axolotl swam by a couple of firefighters, he overheard them saying, "... orders of magnitude higher than anything we've been trained to handle. An entire reality catching fire is one thing, but the concept of realitycatching fire...?"

"And the speed it's moving..."

"Excuse me," the Axolotl said, trying to keep the edge of fear out of his voice. (Why was he so afraid? He was barely acquaintances with one resident on the wall.) "Can you tell me what happened to the wall? It was just here yesterday."

Rather than explain, one of them pointed in the direction he'd been going. "Sorry, we don't know any more than you do. Look for the storm. You can't miss it."

The other asked, "Are you one of the guys with the apoc cops?"

His fear leaped higher. The "apoc cops" were members of the Apocalyptic Threat Task Force. "No. Sorry, I have to go." He swam onward toward the blue line of light.

The stench of burning hydrogen grew stronger. He smelled something else acrid underneath.

####

To his slight relief, the "storm" wasn't the disaster that had brought down this wall. Rather, it was a person: a lightly raining storm cloud with a gray rain-soaked fedora perched on top, hovering in space.

It was talking to a hapless-looking furred serpent twice the Axolotl's length with four mismatched limbs: she clutched a can of spray paint in her claws, and was so nervous he could hear the marble in the can rattling. A disembodied sunbeam pierced the eye of the storm cloud to shine in the serpent's face as she spoke, and a tornado swirled beneath its cloud, carrying all its personal effects—including a tumbling badge from the Apocalyptic Threat Task Force, its logo of a mushroom cloud struck out with the "no" symbol still visible through a thin glaze of sleet. A chill ran through the Axolotl at the sight of that badge.

The cloud wasn't the only one with the apoc cops on the scene. There were several other investigators nearby, taking readings where the wall used to be. The Axolotl didn't like just how many were buzzing around. They seemed far too busy for far too empty a space, and they steered far too clear of the thrashing, multicolored miasma covering the emptiness that should contain Dimension Zero.

There were several stars in the area that the investigators had to work around. Between the crowds and the missing wall, it took the Axolotl a moment to realize where they were: this was the spot he'd met the triangle yesterday. He was sure of it. He recognized the star right next to the missing wall, the one the triangle had told him he eclipsed during his commute. He'd passed it millions of times.

Why had the apoc cops set up here?

The star was slowly falling toward the roiling miasma where Dimension Zero should have been. He nudged it back into place as he passed.

As the Axolotl approached the duo, the serpent was saying, "I told you, I don't know how it caught fire! I was just passing by..." The storm cloud's sunbeam dropped from her face to point skeptically at her spray paint. She hid it behind her back and quickly went on, "I was just passing by, minding my own business and not doing anything illegal, and suddenly the whole wall went up in flames!"

The cloud said, "The whole wall? Simultaneously?"

"The whole thing! I mean... it kind of rolled across the dimension, but—it took less than ten seconds to cover everything I saw!"

"Which direction did the fire travel?"

While the serpent tried to remember, the Axolotl swam up to the storm cloud. "Excuse me, the firefighters said you're in charge of the investigation?"

"Currently," the cloud said, in a tone that suggested it very much wished it wasn't. It looked over the Axolotl, then turned back to the serpent—she flinched when its sunbeam hit her face again—and it asked gruffly, "Is this your lawyer?"

The serpent looked hopeful. "Are you my lawyer?"

"No, I'm not," the Axolotl said, perturbed. Potential defendants aside, nobody ever insinuated he was somebody's lawyer and meant it in a nice way—and he was on the receiving end of such accusations more and more often lately. His reputation was beginning to precede him. "We've never met. I'm trying to find out what happened to this wall. I know a—friend in there. You said something about a fire?"

An active ATTF investigation was in no way the Axolotl's business. But people had a tendency to cooperate with professionals, whether or not their profession had anything to do with the situation at hand. The ATTF agent turned to the Axolotl and said, "You had a friend in there. The wall that used to be here, Dimension 2 Delta, has been completely incinerated."

The Axolotl stared at the cloud, trying to process that. But the whole wall had been there yesterday. Billions of galaxies, each with trillions of stars, each capable of supporting trillions of species—never mind lives. "You can't mean completely. Surely there are some survivors?"

"Not a single one," the cloud said. "Not even gods and ghosts made it out."

"How?"

"That's what we're trying to figure out," the storm said. "Right now, the only witness we've found was the person who called in the emergency." A branch of lightning pointed toward the serpent. "And she doesn't know a damn thing." The serpent nodded in enthusiastic agreement.

"But that's... How does an entire dimension disappear with only one witness?"

"Very quickly," the storm said. "The apocalypse Origin & Cause investigation can't make heads or tails of the scene—" a gust of wind swept demonstratively toward the other apoc cops taking readings near the missing wall, "but far as we can tell, the damn thing spontaneously combusted—somewhere near here."

The Axolotl stared helplessly between the serpent and the storm. "Dimensions aren't supposed to spontaneously combust," he said, very reasonably and very unnecessarily.

"Tell 2Δ that," the storm said. "Only time a dimension moves that fast is during a Big Bang explosion or a Big Crunch implosion—and 2Δ wasn't undergoing a Big Crunch. No natural one, anyway. In all my eons with ATTF, I've never seen anything like it."

The Axolotl had been around enough eons himself to know that, after a certain point, novelty became very, very scary—because things working like they should shouldn't do anything you'd never seen before. He worriedly searched the roiling chaos exposed by Dimension 2 Delta's collapse for any sign of what had happened.

The chaos simply thrashed. It moved like it was in pain.

"Did that..." the Axolotl gestured vaguely toward the chaotic foam, "have anything to do with the wall's combustion?"

The serpent shrugged. "I didn't see it until after the fire went by."

The storm grunted uncertainly, a low, thunderous grumble. "Heck if we know. It's connected, no doubt about that—but we haven't even figured out what it is yet. All we know is, it shouldn't have been behind the wall."

The Axolotl stared into the roiling colors, looking for anything visible through the thrashing kaleidoscopic colors. "If you don't know what it is yet—then, how do you know there aren't survivors in there?" The Axolotl couldn't stop seeing that poor, frightened, awed triangle he'd met yesterday. All the people who'd once been in Dimension 2 Delta mattered—of course they did, those billions of trillions of trillions of billions of lives; he wanted any of them to survive—but that triangle was the one he knew, the one he saw in his mind's eye now. The whole dimension was contained inside that triangle. He had to hope. "I'm going to check."

"What—? You're crazy! Don't you know falling into Dimension Zero will destroy you?!"

"I know falling into Dimension Zero destroys you; I don't know what falling into that thing will do." He squared up with the chaos and steeled his nerves. "Besides, I can regenerate. I'm an axolotl."

"But—!"

"Sorry, there isn't time for more questions." He swam into the maelstrom.

####

Dimension Zero was supposed to be a singularity. Like a black hole, but even smaller—a point so dense it broke physics. If you fell in you'd be crushed into that point by the weight of all realities, a point so small it had no volume.

But whatever was behind where the wall had been, it was certainly no point.

As soon as he crossed the threshold, he was barraged with a psychic hurricane. Reality frothed and foamed like a flood spilling from a burst dam. Distant baby stars were born and popped like bubbles, and old stars fell in and were gloriously reignited. His every sense was bombarded with infinite sensations—every color and image in this dimension all at once; every song that had ever been played playing in the same instant and the instant extended indefinitely; strobe lights that were both flashing on and flashing off at the exact same moment. Beneath the music was a constant hiss like the background radiation of reality, the static echo of a universe's birth, but much too loud; he could swear it sounded like gibbering, babbling voices, their desperate messages unintelligible. He smelled every scent, including the lingering smell of burning hydrogen that he'd noticed outside; but above and beyond all that, he smelled the stench of burning life.

He knew now, this was Dimension Zero: it was as if all of spacetime had been crushed into a singularity, but then the singularity was bloated up to the size of an entire universe. Dimension Zero was never supposed to be this bloated.

And the most terrifying part: there were people in this bizarre ruin of a dimension. Millions of them. (Just as horrifying: there were only millions of them.) He was sure he must have been hallucinating—here, dreams and reality swirled around each other like a bottle of water and oil shaken until they were forced to mix—but the longer he looked, the more sure he was that the people were a part of reality. They were, perhaps, the most real thing in the entire dimension.

They were all dancing.

They were all dead.

"Heeey, look who's here!" Suddenly, in front of the Axolotl, there he was—as if he'd always been in front of the Axolotl, as if he were always everywhere at once. The ghost of the little triangle he'd seen yesterday, neon incorporeal. "Happy New Year, everybody!" He laughed. "Get it? That—that's a joke, time doesn't pass in the dream realm, so..." The triangle waved off the Axolotl. "Oh, you wouldn't get it. Screw you. Anyway, introductions! I should do that."

The triangle was extremely inebriated. He was blinking blearily, floating crookedly, moving in odd uncoordinated jerks, his pupil expanding and contracting with no correlation to the light it was taking in. He seemed to flicker across multiple timelines that had been collapsed into one, like a drunk that couldn't walk a straight line: appearing here then there, then multiple places at once, then everywhere; and then became everywhere, and then collapsed again to a single triangular point. The Axolotl had the worrying impression that the triangle hadn't been sober for a long time.

"So! These are my people!" He gestured with a flourish to the dancing corpse puppets. The strobe lights—which, the Axolotl only now realized, didn't actually have a source, but were rather disembodied rays of light emanating from nothing—turned to highlight them from every angle. It was like a cloud of glitter, all these tiny, flat, jewel-tone flecks, emerald and citrine and ruby and sapphire, triangles and squares and pentagons and hexagons. Each with two spindly arms; some with legs and some without; a single dull eye or a slack mouth; some of them cracked and chipped like broken glass, some of them crushed and melted together into multi-corpsed horrors, some of them fraying and peeling apart around the edges like fabric; so much silvery blood dripping and floating around them. Such beautiful, colorful dancing gore. "All my followers and friends! They love me! They couldn't see you last time you flew by, but thanks to me, they sure can now! Say hellooo!"

It took the Axolotl a moment to realize that the triangle's eye was boring into him and the instruction was for him. "Hello," he said weakly.

"Very nice." The triangle turned without turning to the millions lost inside Dimension Zero, reality shifting around him to put all of the dimension's prisoners in front of his eye. The Axolotl reeled from existential vertigo. "Now check this out!" The triangle gestured at the Axolotl for his people's benefit. "Behold! Your Magister Mentium presents to you: the eclipse! In the horrifying pink flesh! Quite a sight, huh?"

Many of the dancers turned toward him. Some aimed their dull, dead eyes in his direction. He shivered under their chill stares.

Heedless of the Axolotl's horror, the triangle elbowed him. "I didn't peg you for a party crasher, pinky!" (The triangle's touch was so cold.) "But hey, the more the merrier. Welcome to the dream realm, have a drink!"

A 2D cup manifested in front of the Axolotl that, based on its smooth, featureless yellow surface and its glow, appeared to be made from the triangle's own ghostly flesh. It seemed to be filled with watered-down raw existence. He didn't touch the cup. "What's the dream realm?" He couldn't stop staring at the dancers macabre.

"This is!" The triangle stretched out his arms—and stretched them, and stretched them, seeming to embrace all of reality at once. The Axolotl got the terrifying impression he was within the embrace too. "The realm of dreams! My realm! Paradise of color and light! Realm of spirits and muses!"

"It looks more like a nightmare."

"Do I come to your house and insult your wallpaper? Buzz off."

When the triangle dismissively floated away from him, the Axolotl again got the dizzying sensation that he was the one moving. The truth finally dawned on him:

The triangle, somehow, was literally the center of this universe. Point 0,0,0 on the cartesian plane of reality. Whenever he moved, Dimension Zero moved with him. When he backed away from the Axolotl, Dimension Zero backed with him, rushing past while the Axolotl held still.

And not once during their conversation did any of the millions of dead shapes stop dancing.

"What are you doing?" the Axolotl asked, voice hushed.

"Partying," the triangle said. "We're having a party."

The Axolotl couldn't tear his eyes from the choreomaniacs' forced revelry. "How long have you been partying?"

"Uhh... pfff... I dunno, hard to keep track. A few months?" The triangle turned toward his tortured people. "Hey! How long have we been partying?"

One of the bodies mixed in amongst the dead, boogying deliriously, faintly cried back, "Time has no meaning and eternity has collapsed into a single unending moment of bliss!" (The Axolotl shuddered at the grotesque ventriloquism act.)

"Oh, yeah, right, forgot I decreed that. Thanks, pal!"

"You're welcome, oh wise and glorious Magister Mentium!"

The triangle turned back to the Axolotl. "An eternity."

The Axolotl tore his horrified eyes away from the dancers. "What about all the others?"

The triangle paused. "I don't know who you're talking about." The background radiation hissed in agitation.

The Axolotl very much suspected he did. "Your other people."

"There aren't any others," the triangle said defensively.

"There were! All of the other shapes around your world! All of the lives on other worlds! Where are all those people?!" He hoped that they might have gotten evacuated to a neighboring wall, or that they'd been concealed somehow, or even that they'd been collapsed together into the shapes he saw before him and could still be separated—

"It's fine," the triangle said stiffly. "Nothing important was lost."

"Nothing important?" the Axolotl repeated, shocked. "This was an entire dimension—!"

"A wall," the triangle said.

"A wall with lives on it—"

"Shadows."

"And do shadows not deserve to live?!"

The triangle flinched at the question as his good cheer crumbled. He didn't answer, but he gave the Axolotl a heavy, hard, emotionless look—a wretched, empty look—and the Axolotl knew he knew they did deserve to live.

"They don't matter," the triangle lied. "Nothing important was lost. Only the true believers and the worthy remain."

"Your dimension had billions of trillions of stars alone. All the people surrounding them—"

"I didn't see any stars!" He said it so vehemently—as though, if he didn't see them, they must not have existed. As though he refused to acknowledge their existence. "I told everyone about the third dimension, I told them we were going, they had their chance to join me!" His voice was shaking. As he spoke he grew larger, until he was as large as the Axolotl—or perhaps the universe had contracted around him. "And if they refused to join the liberation, then they are what we liberated ourselves from!" Distant bolts of lights flashed through Dimension Zero, responding to the triangle's outrage; the nearest stars blazed brighter for him. His dead people screamed in terror. They didn't stop dancing.

"You... tried to leave your dimension before the fire reached them?" Had he tried too late?

The triangle flinched again; his appearance flickered, like a TV that for a moment had picked up a pirate station broadcasting on the same frequency. The whispers hissing beneath the music grew more excited again, but the Axolotl still couldn't make out what they said beneath the party music.

The triangle said, "The... the fire came second."

"What came first?"

But he didn't answer. "Yeah, I brought them here." He spread his arms again, gesturing at the other shapes. "They followed me, and I freed them from our flat, restrictive dimension. They're all fine. And they all love me for saving them."

"Saving them?" he echoed. He wanted to laugh in disbelief, but it felt too much like laughing at a stranger's funeral. Laughing at an open mass grave. "But—everyone here is already dead. Even you." The triangle should be in an afterlife. Whatever afterlives his dimension once had, they were gone now. The Axolotl would have to help the triangle find one in another dimension—the paperwork alone would take time he didn't have to spare; he'd probably have to split off a timeline or two to squeeze it in...

The triangle snapped, "Whoa, hey, hey! Watch who you call dead, buddy! Look at me!" He stretched out his limbs, glowing dazzlingly bright. Brighter than a star. Even the Axolotl had to turn away from the blinding light. "I transcended my body! I'm made of pure energy! This is the most alive I've ever been!" A being of pure energy that had lost its physical form was the very definition of a ghost; but the Axolotl didn't have a chance to argue before the triangle went on, "And does anyone here look dead? Everyone's dancing! We're all having a great time, aren't we?" A few corpses groaned and gurgled in response.

If the triangle wanted to be a wandering ghost, fine. That was his prerogative. But he had no right to force the remains of his followers to deny their death with him. "Look—look at your people," the Axolotl commanded. "You're making them dance! You must know what state they're in!"

Without actually moving, the triangle had somehow become the space in between the Axolotl and his choreomaniacs, forming a sharp shield in between them. "You don't know what you're talking about. They're fine. They're immortal!"

The Axolotl gestured furiously past the triangle. "LOOK AT THEM!"

The triangle's gaze flickered toward them for a split second. The Axolotl saw guilt flashing in his eye; but then he squeezed his eye shut. "No, you look at them. Maybe it took me a little bit to get it right, but they're all great now."

To get it right? The Axolotl peered around the triangle at the shapes again, and only now saw that he was right.

Not all of them were dead.

Some were trapped in ecstatic trances; some were numb with terror; some were already long dead, and yet the corpses weren't being puppeted like he'd assumed—they danced under their own power. There were amalgams of a dozen, a hundred bodies fused together into shambling, gyrating horrors—but there was still life in their horrified eyes and their limbs twitched independently. The ones that were bleeding just kept bleeding and bleeding and bleeding, unending, blood never clotting nor running dry. The corpses and the comatose and the ailing and the bleeding dancing with the living that craved death.

The triangle was responsible for their condition?

He glided between the corpses, sliding his arms around a few of them. They kept dancing. "I didn't quite get to a few of them in time, so I took the empty space where their souls used to be and filled them with an insatiable hunger to party," he said. "And look, they're good as new! Probably better than they were before, even!"

"These bodies should be laid to rest," the Axolotl said heatedly, "and the rest of you should be dead."

The triangle went still.

The Axolotl remembered, a second too late, that that was a perfectly normal thing to say to deceased clients and other gods in his line of work, but the kind of thing that scared the living daylights out of mortals.

"So that's a threat." His arms slid off the shapes; his fingers were stained with silvery blood that shimmered like static noise.

"No! No. But the condition that you're all in..."

"You'd better check yourself, frills," the triangle snapped. "You crash our party, in our eternal paradise, and start threatening us! Who the hell do you think you are, telling us we should be dead?!"

The Axolotl paused uneasily. "A fully licensed psychopomp...?"

"Well you'd better keep your psycho, pompous paws off my people!" The triangle blazed bright red, literally incandescent with rage. Some of his "people" slowly stopped dancing and turned their hollow eyes toward the Axolotl.

And the Axolotl couldn't say why, but he was suddenly sure he was in very grave danger.

He backed up from the triangle, moving in the direction that the edge of Dimension Zero should have been, although he was no longer sure whether it was still behind him. "I... think I should leave."

"I think you'd better."

He turned and fled. He couldn't explain his panic, but he felt in his bones like something was chasing him. He had to spend longer than he wanted searching for the edge of this bizarre reality—the triangle had turned and twisted and moved the borders so many times that he'd completely lost his bearings—spied the nearest exit, and darted for it between two unfinished planes of reality.

He thought he felt flames at his back.

The triangle's voice followed him out: "Next time, poop on somebody else's party!"

He tumbled through the membrane between the overbloated Dimension Zero and the higher dimensions with the relief of a suffocating fish escaping its net to plummet back into the water. He had to take a moment to reorient himself to his surroundings—time passing so that each moment took its turn and ended when it was over, space that felt like space rather than all distances collapsed in on themselves—and looked back at Dimension Zero.

The longer he stared into the kaleidoscopic miasma, the more sure he was that, no matter where he looked, right at the center of his field of view, he could always see a shining yellow fleck of triangular glitter.

"I'm sorry," he said. "I spoke out of emotion. I am glad that you—" well, "survived" wasn't the right word, "—still exist. And it was heroic of you to save as many people as you did. I shouldn't have said they shouldn't be alive; just..."

He felt like he could still see the shapes dancing in the corners of his eyes.

"... Just not alive like that."

####

Who was the triangle?

At their first meeting yesterday, it had been clear to the Axolotl that the triangle could see and perceive things off his wall while the rest of his people could not; he'd identified himself as "Magister Mentium" rather than by name; and he'd been surrounded by shapes, all turned toward him, listening: so perhaps he was a leader of some kind? He must have seen whatever destroyed their dimension coming and been able to use his position to evacuate a few people. The true believers and the worthy, he'd said—maybe his... congregation? Maybe he was a religious leader? At any rate, it was a miracle he'd saved as many people as he had with what must have been very short notice.

But... their forced dance... the bodies fused together... the living-who-should-be-dead bleeding and bleeding and bleeding without end...

The Axolotl didn't want to believe the triangle had any ill will. He reminded himself that he didn't know anything about his people or their culture. These shapes had been through something unimaginably traumatic. They'd watched an entire reality die; many of them were stuck in the process of dying in a place where they couldn't complete it. Any mortal would be insane with grief. Perhaps their magister was just leading them in some sort of cathartic dancing mania; perhaps this was how the shapes processed their grief. He hoped that was what it was. He hadn't gotten a chance to speak to the others—he didn't know how many could speak—but he had seen, for just a moment, how survivor's guilt ate at the triangle.

The storm cloud with the Apocalyptic Threat Task Force had said that every single living being from Dimension 2 Delta had been killed. Even the gods and the ghosts. So how had the triangle and his people survived?

And what were they doing here, in the singular heart of all reality?

And what had happened to their world?

####

(Hello, thanks for reading!! If you were lured in by the colorful art I laid out as bait and this is your first time here, welcome!! This is part 1 of a 5-or-6 part fic about the Axolotl in the immediate aftermath of the Euclidean Massacre. I'll be posting one chapter a week, Fridays 5pm CST, so stick around if you wanna read more and learn the exciting answers to exciting questions like "Bill where in the good goddamn did you find a bunch of half-dead shapes??"

It's ALSO chapter 61 of an ongoing post-canon post-TBOB very-reluctantly-human Bill fic. So if you wanna read more of me writing Bill, check it out here. If you're not sold on the idea of a human Bill fic, I've also got a one-shot about normal triangle Bill escaping the Theraprism if you wanna read that.

If this is NOT your first time here and you already knew all of the above: hey y'all remember when we had to skip over chapter 61 because it would've been posted like four days after TBOB came out and it needed MAJOR revisions? Well, here it is!! And also it's currently like six times longer than it was originally. We're gonna be hanging out with the Ax for like a month and a half, buckle up.

Let me know what y'all think so far!!)

#bill cipher #gravity falls axolotl #gravity falls #gravity falls fic #gravity falls fanart #the book of bill #euclydia #(or what's left of it anyway lmfao)#fanart #my art #my writing #bill goldilocks cipher #(AT LONG LAST)#(i spent all day drawing dead shapes)

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honeyroots · 3 months ago

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give you something to cry about, ft. SOLDIER BOY

SYNOPSIS: you disobeyed soldier boy during a mission, so he’s going to remind you just how compliant you can be.

WORD COUNT: 1350 WARNINGS: NSFW (18+) / fem!reader / dacryphilia / toxic secret relationship / age gap / humiliation / face fucking (f receiving) / oral (m receiving) / power play / orgasm denial / slight exhibitionism (they can be heard through the walls) / daddy kink

“You’re careless,” SOLDIER BOY was laying into you, his words sharp as a dagger while his finger waved in your face only an inch from your nose. Ben, unfortunately, was like a ticking time bomb, and you never knew what was going to set him off until he was already at his breaking point. “I don’t know what it is with your generation, but you’re a bunch of fuckin’ idiots. If I tell you something, you do it. That fuckin’ easy, sweetheart.”

The pet name rolled off his tongue sourly, the nickname doused in a bucket of evident distaste. Flinching at the tone of his voice and level in which he was speaking was your natural reaction to the situation. Hughie was always so sweet with you— same thing with Frenchie, M.M, Kimiko… Well, Butcher had his moments, but the point was that you had never been yelled at before. At least not until Ben emerged from that god forbidden cyro-chamber. To your humiliation, and your sensitive nature, tears accumulated at your waterline, causing a blur in your vision. The worst part about the whole thing? Ben was right, you were being careless by defying his orders, but who could blame you when he was so hard to trust.

“Say something,” Ben backed away, dropping his shield to the tiled floor, creating an echo of titanium to bounce between the walls and hone in on you. It was all so overstimulating; the sound of the shield dropping, the anger in his tone, the way you could feel your clothes against your skin. If the overstimulation of your current environment wasn’t enough fuel to the fire, Ben snorted at the sight of your tears, followed by a mock, “You’re crying?”

With as much discretion as possible, your sleeve found its way to your eyes in an attempt to sop up some of the tears threatening to spill over. Clearing your throat, you tried to gain as much courage as you could, but your voice cracked and your words fell flat. “No, I’m not.”

“C’mere,” Ben wrapped his arm around your bicep, his grip a little too tight for comfort and pulled you closer to him. Now standing directly in front of him, chests square with one another, you chewed on the inside of your cheek to combat the quivering of your lip. “I’ll give you something to cry about.”

One of Ben’s fingers pointed at the ground and you knew exactly where he was going with this. No one knew what happened between you and Ben behind closed doors— they didn’t know how you ran to him when you were needy and desperate, or how he would sometimes make you get off by humping his boot. It was a dynamic you couldn’t even fully grasp, and you definitely didn’t need anyone else weighing in on it. With a compliance that came naturally, you sank to your knees, opening your mouth for him as the tears spilled over. Ben was quick to release his shaft from his supe suit, using the tip of his cock to wipe off the droplets streaming down your cheeks. Instead of tears drying on your cheeks, it was now a trail of precum.

“You’re careless in the field, but when I have you alone, you always listen.” Ben traced the outline of your lips with the tip of his dick, slowly feeding his cock into your mouth. Bit by bit, he pushed against your tongue and grasped his hand behind your head to steady your movements. “Say it. Say you’re gonna listen.”

Moving back, you tried to release him from your mouth to offer a repetition of his words, but he stabilized your head with his hand. Signaling with one flick of his eyebrow that he wanted you to talk around his dick, your words came out muffled, only adding to the humiliation of the situation but the warmth that grew in your lower abdomen didn’t go unnoticed. “G’na listen. Swear.”

“I was so mad at you, but then you started crying… Fuck, it got me so hard.” Ben said, but you weren’t sure the statement was meant for you or if it was his internal monologue slipping out.

With the kind of meanness only someone like Soldier Boy could possess, he gripped his fingers in your hair, tugging on the roots enough to make you yelp. Using the yelp to his advantage, he filtered more of his cock into your mouth, until his tip was poking the back of your throat. Dry heaving around him, you lurched forward as he gave you a proper face-fucking, and with the growing arousal in your underwear and the unadulterated noises you were making, you realized that this was a power move. It was Ben’s way of telling the team, he had you under his thumb— obedient and desperate for him. Thin walls separated the two of you from the rest of the team, where Hughie, Annie, Kimiko, M.M., Frenchie, and Butcher all sat outside, and with wide eyes, you made the connection.

Ben’s climax was almost immediate when he saw you piece two and two together; he had successfully embarrassed you after you had embarrassed him in the field. The realization flashing in your teary gaze was hard to miss, and exactly what he wanted. Pulling himself almost all the way out, he rocked his hips back into your mouth and shot his climax down your throat. Sputtering around him, you swallowed his seed and removed his shaft from your mouth, feeling like the length of it was never ending as you pulled it out. Watching it bob up, slapping his suit, you wondered if he was going to give you what you needed. It’s not like he needed a refractory period.

Ben grabbed your elbows, hoisting you up to your feet. With a sympathetic gaze, he gently toyed with the button of your jeans, peeling them down just enough for him to place his hand against your slit and collect some of your arousal on his fingers. A breathy-whine sounded from you as he pulled away. Ben looked at his fingers, observing the arousal he had collected in just a few seconds from it pooling in your underwear, he commented, “So wet, baby. It’s uncomfortable, isn’t it?”

Nodding your head in response, you began to loop your fingers around the waistband, getting ready to shimmy out of your pants and offer Ben full access to your body. Clicking his tongue, disapproval coating his facial expression, he offered a demand. “Use your words.”

“It is uncomfortable,” you confirmed, wiping away the semi-dry tears on your face. Part of you didn’t even want to look in the mirror to see how disheveled you must be after that— dried tears crusting to your face, precum present on the apples of your cheeks, swollen lips, and messy hair was expected after that. “Please help me?”

The sympathy etched on his face disappeared in an alarming fashion. Transitioning between a sympathetic look to a devious glare happened in such a manner, you almost didn’t even place the change. Ben’s mouth curved into a smirk, his eyes mischievous as he buttoned the front of your jeans and zipped them back up.

“That’s real tough, sweetheart. Maybe you’ll remember this next time. Why don’t you go tell the team that dad took care of your mistake? You don’t need to be scolded twice.” Ben swatted you on the butt as you headed toward the door, knowing the thin walls already alerted everyone of what was going on. Eyes clouded with the shame of disappointing Ben, you only nodded in response, realizing that whining and complaining about his denial was only going to get you into a bigger predicament.

“Hey,” Ben grabbed your hand, twirling you around before you had to go face the rest of the team. His lips grazed the top of your ear, the heat of his whisper making your stomach turn, “Don’t look so sad, this is a teaching moment. If you take it like a champ, I’ll give you a reward later.”

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electronicdelusionstarlight · 3 months ago

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Ok so let me get this straight.

Marvel Comics had Doctor Doom take over the world and implement a series of popular, really effective leftist policies on a global scale.

Like everyone focuses on the US getting free healthcare how about all the african counties who just got "plows, dams, drills, fertilizer etc etc"?

As this happens we find out that Doom has also murdered every single high ranking Nazi in the world, and replaced one of them with a Doombot so he can use it to rehabilitate Hydra out of being Nazis and into building, like, fucking hospitals or something.

Ok you're following me till now right?

Why the fuck did Marvel Comics decide to have the BRIGHT IDEA of writing, in THIS ORDER:

A) Tony Stark crying histrionics over all these dead nazis and the sanctity of human life.

B) Tony Stark decide to tell the world Doom actually did the heinous crime of "killed red skull and all the other nazis while riding a T-Rex," knowing full well that's gona get all the not yet reformed Hydra soldiers currently engaged in BUILDING HOSPITALS IN MINORITY COMMUNITIES in a rage, cause an escalation in Hate Crimes.

C) Have any member of the broader public being glad Doom killed the fucking nazis be depicted as naive or misguided in some real "Copaganda show special episode about Luigi Mangione" way.

D) and After ALL OF THAT, and I wish I was joking, have Tony Stark start ARMING AND FUNDING literal NAZIS to act as Contras fighting against Doom's heinous policies of free healthcare, free education, and no genocide.

I repeat.

As of right now, in marvel comics, the designated villain of the current mega arc pushing for popular American and worldwide leftist policies fighting against a tech billionaire actively funding and arming literal fucking in universe NAZIS to dethrone him.

Next up they (EDIT: By they I mean Tony Stark and the other heroes) are literally about to team up with the Masters of Evil, among their Members being MODOK, which not many people may know was one of the people responsible for the recent Mutant Genocide.

This is either the most blatant and heinous piece of american propaganda known to man or one of the most unintentional critique of American Foreign Policy when any leftist takes power anywhere and threatens their bottom line.

Maybe both.

Anyway Tony Stark is working with Nazis so he can take away people healthcare now in the comics, right in the middle of this political environment, send post.

#doctor doom #marvel #marvel comics #one world under doom #american politics

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pearlywritings · 2 years ago

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In father’s embrace

synopsis: HSR men as dads and what your family dynamic is like.

pairings: Blade, Gepard, Luocha, Sampo, Jing Yuan x fem!reader (separately)

tw: fluff, established relationship, implied initial mortal x immortal in Blade’s

word count: 5.2k words

a/n: Luofu Xianzhou timeline is hell, so Blade’s one is quite vague. Here’s the Genshin version!

Blade

Blade tends to say that he has no connection to his past, but that is not true and very few (mostly Kafka) know he is lying. Even with his life and death fucked up he can't simply let go of someone his heart has been always full with, of someone who he promised himself to by the altar, even if under another name, of someone, who gifted him the joy of both his previous and current life - your daughter.

The blade - a cold weapon with no feelings - should not experience being lucky, but that’s what he was, when you clutched him in your arms the first time after his return from the dead and sobbed in his chest, telling him how much you missed him, how much his little angel missed him.

Back then he should've left without a trace, maybe even coming to you in the first place was a mistake, but he just couldn't. And his resolve crumbled completely when a white-haired toddler in your arms gazed at him with the same soft eyes as yours and reached out to his face, hesitantly asking "dada?".

As much as Blade is capable - he loves you and your daughter. He is quite absent due to his involvement with the Stellaron Hunters, but you understand how important that magenta-haired woman's ability is when it comes to restraining the mara in his body. After all that's the reason why he can visit without fear of hurting you or his little girl.

Some other sacrifices had to be made - one of them was moving from the Lofu Xianzhou, but that was alright and your daughter loved her new environment. Besides, dada has been visiting more often ever since you moved! And no one really bothered or chased after you (after all, you are still registered as his wife and higher ups of Lofu know), which, you assumed, was somehow connected with a young girl that once came with Blade.

Kafka once brought up a proposition of moving you two to the Stellaron Hunters' base for Blade's easier access, but he declined. At least his loved ones should have a peaceful everyday life.

With a tired sigh the black-haired man lowers himself on a sofa in the living room of the house you two purchased to start a seemingly new life. The red-hot iron in his eyes disappears behind the heavy eyelids and for a moment Blade allows himself to relax. The little wonder, that is his daughter, ran to your bedroom to fetch some hair accessories, after you encouraged your husband to let her style his long locks.

He doesn’t move when you sit next to him, hip to hip and heart to heart. He welcomes your sneaking fingers, curling his, creating a secure lock of hands. The weight of your head resting on his shoulder is grounding and he can’t help but press his cheek against it.

It’s soothingly silent.

It almost reminds him of the past.

“For how long will you be staying this time?

Even your question, spoken in a tender, understanding voice, is familiar. You used to ask him the same thing in-between his Cloud Quintet-related missions.

These days it’s difficult to sneak and see you during breaks though.

“Fifteen days,” his breath is even, and eyes are still shut, but he senses a smile that tugs on the corners of your lips.

“That’s a lot. She will be so happy,” and he knows that you are as well.

The rapid stomping of little feet bursts into your peaceful serenity, and you simultaneously glance at the doorway. Low and behold - the soon-to-be hair stylist is proudly running into the room, tightly clutching your jewelry box with various hair pins inside.

“Dad, I practiced! Mom says I’ve been making huuuuuuge progress!”

A tiny smile touches his pale lips - it’s such a miracle that a monster like him is blessed to have the most adorable child in the whole universe. With her and you by his side, this life gets more and more bearable.

“If mom says you’ve been, then it must be the truth,” he nods, letting go of your hand - but not before giving it a little affectionate stroke with his thumb, - sliding down and onto the floor, turning his back to the girl.

Giggling excitedly, she gives you the box, which you quickly unlock, and starts looking through the many intricate pieces of jewelry (many are your beloved’s presents), until finding the perfect one.

Having his hair being touched is weird. He was aware that the white luscious locks used to draw attention, but only you were honored to run your fingers through them, and only his baby was allowed to tug on them, making her father wince. Now it’s different - she is oh so careful, brushing, collecting stray locks and braiding, not once causing him pain.

Blade sighs again, but looks at you from the corner of his eye, catching you snickering in your palm upon gazing at something that your daughter is turning his hair into. Well, that’s concerning.

But at this very moment he can’t bring himself to care. If he gets fifteen whole days before his next mission, he is going to savor this time with his family - no matter how disastrous he’s going to look by the end of it.

Gepard

A family man. So no one was surprised when in the end the leader of the Silvermane Guards ended up with three kids - two sons and a daughter. Partly it was dictated by the rules of nobles and his family among them, but ultimately it was your mutual sincere decision.

It’s obvious he is not there for many of his kids’ first times, as sometimes his duties prevail and even the Supreme Guardian cannot help it, but he really-really tries to be there as much as possible. He appreciates the videos you send him, has every single one stored in his phone’s memory and sometimes, when there is no communication, in his spare moment he replays them to remind himself that soon he’ll return home and see his kids and you.

Only one time he really fucked up because of work - during your first pregnancy you both underestimated the soon arrival of your due date and he left on a mission with his troops, reassured that he’ll be back before the day you go into labor. The snowstorm was severe and the connection was cut, so the message Serval sent him when your water broke was not delivered. His soldiers would bring to their graves the image of a deathly pale Gepard, when many hours later he checked his phone back at the base and nearly broke the screen, trying to type his sister’s number.

After that he started taking paternity leave seriously.

You do not keep in touch with his parents a lot - there were instances where they disapproved of you, but all of his siblings are always welcomed in your house and to see their nephews and niece, because they supported your relationship from the moment they met you in flesh.

Serval is an enormous help when it comes to babysitting. It’s like her part-time job honestly - you even offered to pay her, but she declined, suggesting offering her a helping hand whenever she’d need instead. Oh, and to be the first one out of all the Landau siblings (after her brother, of course) to know about the latest updates on your kids.

The kids that are adorable. All three won the ‘blue eyes’ lottery, which, given the previous generations of Landau, is not a big surprise; both boys look like Gepard, while the girl took more after you in appearance. The man really doesn’t want to play favorites, but sometimes he is just too weak for his little princess, who looks just like her mom. She is the youngest too with a pretty big age gap between her and her brothers, who were born a year apart, so there is literally no jealousy, because your sons took their father’s example and became her protectors.

Even from a 'big bad dragon' that is their aunt…

When you step inside your house and hear the kids still fussing somewhere in the rooms, involuntarily your gaze falls to the old grandfather’s clock in the foye. Almost midnight. All three should be long asleep with Serval sending you a notification of her success. Which you didn’t receive and for that reason had to cut your date short and hurry back home.

Your husband looks as concerned as you are, locking the door and straining his ears to determine what’s going on. With both your coats abandoned, you carefully step further into the house, making your way to the line of light coming from under one of the doors.

Two jaws almost kiss the floor when you see Serval lying on the floor tied and gagged with a scarf. Alone. For a moment you fear the worst.

Rushing inside, you let Gepard search the other rooms for intruders. Helping your sister-in-law to sit is no problem, but the knot behind her head is awfully tightened. In the end you manage to yank it down to free her mouth, quickly switching to the rope constricting her hands.

“Y/n, oh my god,” she gasps, finally able to speak. “Who taught your sons to tie knots like this!? I didn’t know a sixteen- and fifteen-year olds can be so strong-”

“Come again?” Stunned, you stop untying her wrists, looking at the woman with widened eyes. Your boys did what?

“My precious nephews - whom I really do not want to strangle - took the game of knights too seriously, and when - maybe a half an hour ago? - I decided to play the dragon who was stealing the princess - my niece of three years, - they attacked and tied me!”

“Huh…” is all you can say, feeling relief wash over you. At least there are no burglars or kidnappers and your kids are safe.

When, listening Serval’s huffs of complaints, you move to untie her legs, the heavy steps of your husband are heard in the hallway, accompanied by the boys whining and begging their dad not to come to the living room, because the dragon would eat their sister.

His tall figure appears in the doorway, with your daughter in his arms, looking very sleepy, and two almost carbon copies of their dad pulling at his jacket to give them their sister back.

“Serval, what in blazes have you told them?” The judging tone and the squint of his blue eyes are directed at his elder sibling.

“It was just a game, Geppie! A silly game they turned into reality.”

“Aunt said she’d eat her,” your oldest pouts, eyeing her cautiously. “And she told us stories about the cannibals the other night-”

“Serval, you what?”

“Hey, they asked me to! Oh, thanks, Y/n,” she shrugs the loosened rope off of her. “Where did you even get this?”

“Aunt Lynx gave us,” the second son chirps, hugging Gepard’s side. “She showed us how to do knots.”

“This little-”

Suddenly you feel a headache coming. With big family come big challenges, but something of this caliber hasn’t happened in a while. It makes you smile though - you almost forgot what it was like - to raise two boys. Seems like your girl brings the borderline naughtiest out of them.

Luocha

To begin with it's worth mentioning that your and Loucha's marriage started as an unpredictable necessity. You both needed to enter the world that allowed only married foreigners' access. So, quickly figuring that your goal matches, you got married on a neighboring planet, spent a month there to make the marriage more believable in the sense of its duration and learning more about each other. Yeah, all of that just to fulfill your respectful jobs. You invented and rehearsed all the possible answers to the questions, perfected your affectionate act and were actually feeling quite comfortable around each other.

It was almost funny, when on the 'how many kids do you plan to have?' Luocha confidently answered 'two', and a couple of years later your first son was born, and then, after 7 more years, another one was too.

Admittedly, the oldest one was kind of unplanned, but at that point you traveled so much together, shared so many memories, even ended up caring for each other on a lover-like level, that you decided to give it a shot, just like you did with the continuation of your marriage.

And Luocha couldn't be more pleased. Surprisingly, he found the peace of those first years he spent settled down to raise your boy delightful. And there was something exciting about having a little wonder with a perfect mix of both of your features in your arms, as your husband's hand is resting on the small of your back, leading you through the crowds of the new planet's lively market, as the child's eyes shine with marvel, taking in his surroundings.

When Luocha suggested having another one it simply felt right.

Your sons are so lucky in the sense of seeing the universe, because their father is a traveling merchant. Sure, he doesn't always take you and your two boys with him, but whenever his deal allows him enough freedom and your kids are doing great in school and can be taken on a little vacation - you three are going with him.

Usually he gets to take care of the youngest one, since only Luocha's vast knowledge can satisfy his curiosity, while the oldest one calmly walks hand in hand with you, content with listening to their conversation and pointing out to you the things he already knows himself, receiving a soft praise from you and an approving nod from his father.

Back home the roles reverse - the oldest is spending most of his time with Luocha to learn all about medicine and healing techniques, while the youngest is more interested in sharing your hobbies.

The two hardly ever quarrel as siblings tend to do, and it must be because of the overall serene atmosphere of your family dynamic, your soft nature and your husband's tranquil behavior.

More than a decade ago Luocha wouldn't have imagined himself with a wife and kids. Nowadays, however, he doesn't like the thought of not having the three of you by his side.

It is a quiet afternoon. A little house you rented for a little vacation has a nice yard - perfect for the kids to have fun outside. You occasionally glance at them from the window of the kitchen to make sure everything is fine, while your hands never stop moving - washing, cutting, stirring.

At some point you are so caught in the moment of tranquility, that you do not hear your husband walking in, until he softly hums to alert you of his presence, and puts his palms on your waist.

“Smells delicious,” you smile, feeling his chin on your shoulder, and grab a piece of a tangerine you are meaning to use for dessert, offering it to him.

“Mhm, I am trying to cook what we had yesterday at that restaurant.”

Ah, right, the restaurant the kids enjoyed. He remembers how you sneaked to the kitchen and came back with a little less credits, but with new recipes and an excited smile on your face.

“Hopefully my rendition will be to our boys’ liking. And don’t think I forgot about you - those Loufu Xianzhou-style noodles are already on their way!”

“So thoughtful of you, darling,” his silky voice caresses your ear and not a second later a kiss is pressed to your cheek. “Do you need any help?”

“Weren’t you busy?” You decide to clarify, clearly recounting how he locked himself in one of the rooms earlier that day to test something. To your question Luocha shakes his head.

“All done already. And I missed you and the kids.”

“Then go and play with them,” you urge, turning to face him to offer a sweet smile. “I’ll handle it here, but the boys could use some quality time with their father.”

“You say that as if they didn’t drag us all around the city yesterday and then climb into our bed and refuse to leave.”

“I mean, it’s the first time in two months they properly see you. That last deal of yours was exceptionally time-consuming.”

“You kept me updated on them so well and those video calls we had… it didn’t even feel like I ever left.”

You only huff and return your gaze to the stove, yet leaning into his chest a little. For a minute it’s quiet, and the man is taking his time before parting from you. That is until he takes a deep inhale and nuzzles his face in your neck.

“Thank you, Y/n.”

“What for, handsome?” There is that teasing lilt in your voice he came to love. Over the course of your lives together he discovered many things to love you for, and if not for that desperate decision to get married - he thinks he’d hardly ever feel the same about his life.

“For everything.”

He leaves your side with a kiss on your shoulder and the next time you glance out of the window again - he is already there, hoisting his youngest in one arm and chasing after the oldest one with his hair swaying in the gentle wind. And your heart is at peace.

Sampo

In all his life Sampo has managed to never impregnate a single woman and he considers that a success. For all the crap people speak about him Sampo is not an idiot, even though he acts like a fool at times. He is extremely self-aware and bringing a child to this world is probably the last thing on his list.

But no one said anything about someone else’s child, right?

Your and Sampo’s relationship is… strange, not going to lie. One evening you happened to help a scared woman to escape from some drunkards (whom you lately found out were the Silvermane Guards, sober and on duty), only for the long wig to slip and the heavy coat to slide down, revealing shortly cut but nicely styled hair and obviously male broad shoulders. The only thing the man managed to get out was a sheepish “hehe”.

And boy did that “hehe” change your life.

That day Sampo Koski got off the hook, since you didn’t comment anyhow and just let him go, which, given you were an overworlder, he found intriguing. So he dug a little bit, out of pure curiosity. Besides, this man didn't like staying in debt to someone and he needed information to see how he could pay you back.

That’s when he found out you were a single mother. An opera singer, but divorced and with full custody over a six-year old daughter.

And honestly, he didn’t give it much thought at first. He simply arranged a nice bouquet of red roses for you, paid Natasha a little for a handmade plushie and left it all at the door steps with a ‘thank you’ note.

Until a couple of weeks ago, disguised again, he didn’t stumble into a group of kids obviously bullying a little girl, mocking her for not having a father, and throwing something among themselves that she tried to catch. And he recognized the toy. And one glance was enough to see how much she looked like the woman he met only once. And against his better judgment Sampo walked to the children, easily snatching the toy and effectively scaring everyone off. Only with that little girl still being there, eyes full of unshed tears and fingers digging in the skirt of her pretty dress.

That tiny ‘thank you’ when he handed the plushie back to her and she hugged it tightly to her chest made the conman’s heart clench, and for the second time that day he sent his plans to hell, keeping her company near the house you lived in until you arrived from work.

That day he learned many things - how much your daughter loved the toy and what a sweet little thing she was, how tired a person can look and how much a throat can hurt from the whole day of singing during rehearsals, how nice a home-made dinner can be once you are invited, but most importantly - how even such a damned man like him can be gazed upon with gratitude and not from one, but two people.

From that day many other instances happened, but in the end he just stuck around. It was strange, it was new, but in a sense it was comforting, especially when you would come home - on Friday, for example, - and he’d be there, entertaining your daughter and then greeting you with a smile and a silly wave of his hand.

You don’t have a husband, and your daughter doesn’t have a father - but with his presence Sampo Koski manages to fill those voids even if a little bit.

Aeons you love days off. A morning to finally sleep in and do not run around like crazy in attempts to get yourself and your kid ready. Even breakfast wasn’t on you today, because the ‘silly man’ stayed the night and told you to get your sleep, assuring you with that confident puff of his chest that the Sampo Koski would offer you his best service, which effectively made you giggle.

Tonight he even cuddled with you, letting you bury your face in his neck and be a little vulnerable in the arms of a man with whom you had the most peculiar relationship ever. But after such equally peculiar moments you really start thinking of suggesting moving from the couch in the living room to your bedroom permanently. It’s been months already, who would’ve thought.

Barefoot and not even glancing at the robe on the chair near the window you leave the room, rubbing at your eyes and brushing your hair away from your face. You are craving the cup of your morning drink, and so you let your legs carry you to the kitchen at first. However two voices coming from your wardrobe room instantly peak your interest and make you halt in your walking. What on earth could your daughter and your clown of a man be doing there?

And soon enough you find it out.

“Sit still, please!” The girl begs with an eye shadow palette in one tiny hand and a huge brush in the other. “It’ll smudge if you keep turning to the mirror!”

“Just can’t wait to see how beautiful I am, princess, ‘s all~”

There, on the floor among the rows of your clothes and shelves with beauty products and accessories, none other than Sampo is sitting, willingly offering his face to your daughter’s practice of applying makeup. And gods he looks absolutely hilarious.

But that’s not what exactly concerns you.

“Is that my dress?” You point at the red shimmery thing snuggly sitting on the man in front of you and that’s when the two notice you.

“Yes, mommy!”

“Say I pulled it off, right?” With a smirk the green-eyed menace winks at you and it looks even worse with poorly done lashes. You have to stifle your laughter. “Though I must admit, we had to keep it unzipped - my chest appeared to be bigger than yours-”

And that’s when you regret not bringing slippers with you - one flying in his head would be of great help.

“Sometimes I really hate you.”

“Nuh, sweet thing, you love me!”

“Well,” you step closer, grabbing a tissue to try and fix at least the overly bright blush on his cheeks, “maybe. Maybe I actually do.”

Suddenly Sampo is tongue-tied and silent, trying very hard to fight off the stupid grin forcing its way onto his face. But with thoroughly smeared red lipstick on his mouth it looks so damn comical.

“Mom, do you think pa looks pretty?” Your daughter hopefully asks, putting aside her tools, and that little two-letter word doesn’t go unnoticed by either of you. You feel a real blush burning under your deft fingers.

“Yes, sweety, Pa-mpo looks very pretty,” his head whips in your direction like you’ve just told him to go and surrender to the Belobog’s esteemed order keepers.

“...Pa-mpo?”

“Would you prefer Da-mpo instead?” Cocking your head in question, you smirk at him, relishing in the pout he is wearing at the moment. “Or maybe Sam-pa?”

“No, thank you very much,” he huffs. “Little princess called me ‘pa’, so be nice and respect it.”

And now it is you who is surprised. You haven’t really discussed with Sampo who he was to your daughter, and who she was to him - but if he is making this step of acknowledging the matter, then who are you to spoil it? Who knows, maybe things will work out quite pleasantly in the end.

“Alright, pa, I will respect that.”

“Hey! For you I am your precious popo baby, a koskiss to your lips, the love of your-”

“Don’t even dream of it.”

Jing Yuan

Yanqing would be enough of an answer to the kid question, but it is not. Sure, his young disciple is practically a son to the General, but it doesn't mean the man doesn't want his own children.

He does and he has. On multiple occasions Jing Yuan's subordinates walked in on him with a small figure sitting in his lap or perched on his strong arm, observing what the dad's been up to with his plans and documents. You scolded your husband for this many times, but the bastard only smiles and keeps stealing his daughter to work to keep him company. Or she sneaks on her own - that caused you many almost heart attacks when she was no older than a couple of decades.

For Jing Yuan it’s all good though - he gets to spend time with his baby and have you inevitably join him in search for your adventurous child.

The General has a separate folder for all the pictures of his daughter on his phone - every single one he takes and every single one you send him when he couldn’t bring his girl to some of his meetings (yet he really tried, until you put your foot down and saved many of his subordinates from the prolonging of said meetings). Even the background, hidden from prying eyes behind the passcode of your and her birthdays, is his little one, cradled in your arms, as the two of you are watching kites flying in the sky.

Yanqing at first was set on treating her with the same respect he does his mentor and you, his wife, but you quickly put an end to it, basically turning the boy into her older brother. He didn’t mind at all - if anything he is sometimes way too eager to push the two of you to go on a date so he can babysit. Often you would return to the two fast asleep either on the girl’s bed or cuddled to Mimi with toys scattered and at least two books lying on the floor. The huge lion adores the girl - sometimes you feel like it thinks of her as its own cub, and the thick mane of hair your daughter got from her father does not help.

And it appeared to be as eager to steal your daughter from you as your husband is…

“Y/n!” You practically jump when the doors to your bedroom fly open and Jing Yuan bursts inside. Immediately you notice his disheveled state - hair down and a mess, the robe he wore this morning for comfortable work in his home office is falling off one of his shoulders and a shoe is missing from his foot.

“Aeons, Yuan, don’t scare me like that,” you put a comb down on your vanity table and fully turn to face him. “What happened?”

“Is our precious baby with you?” He steps further into the room and starts looking around frantically. Okay, now that got worrisome.

“No? You took her earlier this afternoon after lunch to play in your study while you work. Have you really forgotten that? My love, you are getting old.”

You hear clearly as he curses under his breath, raking thick fingers through his hair. The golden eyes look at you and in them you spot a flicker of anxiety.

“...Jing Yuan, don’t tell me that you managed to lose our daughter.”

“I didn’t, I swear,” he winces at the full name usage, watching you rise from your seat and quickly approach him. “She was right by my side, watching the animal videos on my phone, but then I got immersed in the latest reports from the Sky-Faring Commission and when I finished whose - she was gone!”

“Uh, want me to call your phone? Maybe she still has it.”

To that he puts a hand in the robe’s pocket and brings out his device. Oh god.

“It was lying on the floor, still playing videos.”

“Okay, deep breaths,” you are not sure if you are telling it to him or to yourself, but you too take an inhale, meanwhile busying your hands with adjusting his clothes. “Even buried in work you’d still notice if a human sneaked in, right?” He nods. “And you’d notice if she left - she would’ve warned you about that.” He nods again, lips pursed and eyes staring at one point. “Yanqing is not as skilled to come unannounced and take her, and he wouldn’t do it without your permission, so-”

“Wait,” his hand catches yours and realization flashes in his features. “Mimi came.”

“...Mimi?” Before you can ask him to elaborate, your husband turns around and rushes out of the bedroom. Concerned and a little bit intrigued, you quickly follow.

In one of the rooms of your huge house the two of you finally find the lion, and Jing Yuan almost drops on the floor in relief when his girl is spotted in the animal’s embrace.

“Is she…sleeping?” You ask, glancing from behind his broad back.

“It appears so. Hey, Mimi,” the maned head lifts, two ambers taking in your appearances and a pleased huff is let out through the nose upon recognition.

“Well, my dear,” you pat his shoulder, shaking your head, “it appears that people were right - like the owner, like the pet. Congratulations, your lion took your habit of stealing our daughter to heart. Good luck prying her from it.”

“You say it like it’s something hard to do,” there it is, a confident smile is back on his face as he strides closer to the animal, ready to bend down and get his girl. Only for that lift of the corners of his lips to be gone when Mimi growls at him in a warning and shields your daughter’s little body with its head.

You only smirk and leave the scene to go and get your phone - there is no way you are not filming your husband dealing with the consequences of his own behavior.

#honkai star rail #luocha x fem!reader #luocha x reader #honkai star rail x reader #hsr x reader #blade x reader #blade x fem!reader #gepard x reader #gepard landau x reader #gepard x fem!reader #sampo x reader #sampo koski x reader #sampo x fem!reader #jing yuan x reader #jing yuan x fem!reader #honkai star rail fluff #hsr fluff

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imsryyimlate · 4 months ago

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trafalgar law x reader that matches his intellectual freak. he gets giddy bc she listens to his ramblings and vice versa🥹specifically an anthropologist or like archeologist nerd reader! thank u🫶🏻

yes! law needs someone to match his inner, smart, depressed soul ❤️ btw it was years since i took anthropology so i had to do some internet digging to refresh my memory and write this 😂

— pairing: law x anthropologist!reader

one day on the polar tang, you settled into a corner of the mess hall, a hot cup of tea next to you accompanied by a messy stack of books and folders. law wasn’t normally one to seek out conversation, but when he saw a title on the spine of one of your books, he couldn’t help but approach you and ask.

“interested in medicine?” he asked nonchalantly.

not looking up from the textbook you replied, “not medicine itself, but medical procedures.”

“enlighten me.” law challenged, standing in front of the table.

looking up from your texts, you rested your elbow on the table and rested the side of your head on your open palm. “well, this text says,” you replied, flipping the book in front of you, “that way back when, humans would sharpen rocks to create scalpels from the grand line waters because they’re ‘blessed’. a surgical knife with these ‘blessed properties’ supposedly caused successful procedures, not the skill of the doctor or surgeon alone.”

“so you’re saying that the environment was the cause of a person not dying?”

you nodded enthusiastically. “yes.”

“what about now?” he asked. “as in, with current medical technology?”

“well, you’re the doctor. you tell me.” you smiled. “do you think your scalpels and medical tools are blessed?”

law scoffed, pulled the chair back in front of the table, and turned it around so he could sit on it backward, resting his forearms on the backrest.

“i wouldn’t say blessed,” he started, “but i do so happen to be blessed with the skills of being an actual doctor.”

“well then, dr. trafalgar,” you smirked, “enlighten me.”

law raised an eyebrow. “on what?”

“how you can successfully manage surgeries without a blessed scalpel.”

and that invitation was all he needed.

“first of all, how well a scalpel works has nothing to do with superstition but instead with what it’s made of. dull scalpels can cause more damage than good. surgical steel is ideal because it stays sharp.” he started.

“so you’re saying the guys who sharpened the rocks were lucky?” you smirked.

“yes…in a way.” he admitted. “but, were their tools sanitized? that alone can cause infection.”

“of course they did their best to clean them,” you defended. “but these humans had limited resources so mistakes are bound to happen—unintentionally, doctor.” you quickly added.

law blinked and slowly nodded his head. the way you countered his points were seamless. he was finding himself dangerously close to liking this conversation.

“yes, but advancements in what tools are made of make surgery easier and safer. without technique, any tool is useless.” he scooted closer to the table. “may i?” he asked, motioning to the books.

“proceed.” you chuckled.

“if you really want to look into this seriously, i’ll find you a book that doesn’t revolve around superstitions…”

and just like that, hours slipped away and law found himself not only grateful, but enjoying a conversation without someone other than himself.

#trafalgar law x you #trafalgar law x reader #trafalgar law x y/n #trafalgar law imagine #law x reader #law x you #law x y/n #law x oc #trafalgar law x oc #one piece x you #one piece x reader #divider by saradika #writing request

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optimusxwbu · 22 days ago

Text

❀࿐ soundwave x human fem reader 18+

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

-> minors dni, you will be blocked!!

not my best work but hnnggghhh soundwaaaavvveee *goons*

--- ▶︎ •၊၊||၊|။||||| 0:10 ---

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Do you need something?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The view certainly is beautiful.

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

Well, he hasn’t done that before.

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

˗ ♡ ˗

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I would like… To join you.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He craved it, desperately.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Tell me, who do you belong to?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

#transformers #maccadam #transformers x reader #valveplug #soundwave #soundwave x reader #decepticons

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angrythingstarlight · 1 year ago

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What’s worse for Bucky- when Bee cries or when Malyshka cries?

Pairing: Mafia!Bucky x Reader, daughter nicknamed Bumblebee.

CW: Fluff, implied smut.

When little Bee cries, Bucky automatically goes into protective dad mode.

She's a happy baby who's becoming an even happier, sweet toddler. She is also the most protected child on the east coast thanks to Bucky crafting a safe environment around her.

So Bucky knows when she's upset, it's most likely because she's tired and cranky and needs a nap. He knows how to get her to settle down, Bucky has put important meetings on hold so she could lay in his arms until she fell asleep.

She might cry when her head or tummy hurts, and like any child her age, she doesn't know how to convey what's wrong except by crying. It's okay though because Bucky can tell what's wrong by the way she behaves. And he knows how to make her feel better, whether it's with his grandma's soup or medicine hidden in some juice.

She's an active, imaginative little girl who's currently battling three dragons, it's inevitable that she's going to fall down and hurt her knee or hand. She knows all she needs to do is find her Papa and he'll help her.

Bucky has so many tips and tricks up his sleeve, things he's learned from his grandparents, friends, and the baby books he studied when Bee was still baking away in her mama's belly.

So Bucky doesn't really panic when his little girl cries because he knows that between him and her mama, they'll fix whatever is wrong.

But when his wife cries, oh that's an entirely different story.

Bucky considers himself a reasonable, level-headed man. Until someone upsets his wife. His stoic nature goes right out the window and a more primal side of him takes over. No one makes Bucky's wife cry and gets away with it. All he needs is a name and he's going to make things even.

He's an eye for an eye kinda man.

If someone makes the love of his life cry then Bucky makes them regret waking up this morning. It's more than fair.

There are other times when she cries that elicit a slighty different response from him.

When she was pregnant and hormonal, he learned to adapt to her rapidly changing, unpredictable moods. Bucky never teased her when she kept crying during movies or that one ridiculously sad commercial. He soothed and comforted her every time it happened. Let her cry on his shoulder while he rubbed her back.

If she woke up in the middle of the night in tears because she had a craving but her favorite restaurant was closed, Bucky merely made a call and would you look at that? Who knew Antonio's had a midnight delivery service, of course they serve their full menu at 1am.

Bad day? Overwhelmed and so stressed out that the only thing she can do is cry? Bucky knows a few ways to make it right, to take her mind off everything. It works. Every. Single. Time.

There is one exception to the rule.

There are a few instances when Bucky doesn't mind seeing his pretty wife with tears in her eyes.

That's when she's under him. On top of him. Bent over his desk. On all fours in front of their bedroom mirror. Mascara streaming down the sides of her face, eyes rolled back and her hands digging into his back as he goes deeper and faster.

He loves turning her into a pliant, whimpering fucked out mess. Loves seeing her struggle to take it. Loves the way he stretches her limits until she breaks around him. Loves cleaning up the mess he made.

Those tears—the ones that fill her beautiful eyes right around the time he's flipping her over and taking her for the third time that night—those tears turn him on, make him want to ruin her just a little more than he already has. So he does.

Bucky believes the only time his wife should cry is when he's making her feel so good she can't help it. That's the only exception. Anything else is unacceptable.

#sweet asks #mafia!bucky #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x black!reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes oneshot #sebastian stan x reader #sebastian stan x you

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justabeewithapen · 4 months ago

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Sniling so widely at the critters

What’s the dynamic when Doey, Lucas, and Bella are together?

GRINNING SO BIG BACK AT YOU!!! I have so much I am so sorry here, have a doodle before I throw you into the read more:

Their dynamic is very much like siblings. There is definitely a reason they usually only use one at a time as being in a group together emboldens all three of them. It is hard to fully describe the change, but when they are all together you can actually tell they are kids, they act like kids. Being put together is generally a reward for particularly good behavior (conditioning always works better if you mix both positive and negative reinforcement, even if they lean negative) and VERY OCCASIONALLY they are allowed things like crayons or books. Lucas has self proclaimed himself the older brother of their squad which he takes very seriously, which really doesn't mean very much besides the fact he is very loud, loves to "older sibling" brag (make stuff up haha), and thinks he is really funny. He is the one that gets the energy going in a room, and if there is a tussle it's probably his fault. Bella is a very obvious contrast to that, she is quiet and would much rather go with the flow of whatever is happening than take charge like Lucas. However, I think she is hiding a sneaky side under there that doesn't come out very often, but if given the chance to grow up normally she would probably enjoy pranks and get away with them. She likes to draw and she likes listening to stories. She's much stronger than she looks, Lucas knows this first hand (if Doey was in a normal situation/environment he would probably know her "wrath" too.) Doey has the most noticeable shift, and it would be even more if he wasn't in his current circumstances. (I wrote a ton a ton here but I think I'll save it for a second post). It's kinda hard to explain? Big ole' "it depends" I suppose? Sometimes he is more in-line with Lucas, more mischievous and playful, liberally using his abilities to make up for their lack of playthings. Sometimes it is more like a contented air where he will just sit and listen while the other two do their own thing, but he'll still be an active part of conversation. They talk a lot, all three of them, there aren't many occasions where they can talk and feel listened to. Even Bella who is more quiet. It's the only opportunity for play they ever get, unlike some of the experiments in other sections of the building. Obviously if things are not great(tm) for one of them the energy mellows out more, but even if it isn't acknowledged they treat these opportunities like it will be the last time it ever happens. I don't even know if I answered the question right at this point T-T I have been typing and retyping this for hours at this point. It's like, I know it but I don't know how to say it. They act like siblings, sibling who are keenly aware they are all each other has, while still being themselves as much as they can while they have the chance. Being able to all be together without having to worry if anyone is alright genuinely is a reward for them, and it just makes punishments more effective. I think they used to be more reserved, especially Doey who is very keenly aware of being observed like 24/7, but it wasn't worth caring about, they didn't have that luxury. It probably freaked the hell out of several scientists observing him who are generally more used to "Perpetual glower", or "intentionally trying to push your buttons", and on good days "quiet compliance". He got along with critters in places like the courtyard, but he was generally avoided by other toys because he is massive and scary looking, when he walks the ground literally shakes in game. It would be worth looking into more to find a less volatile way to control him, if he wasn't considered such a liability and didn't already have a body count pre-HOJ Man I hope this doesn't suck to read TwT sorry for the messy word vomit here!!

#justabeewithapen #art #my art #text #Ask #Doey's Lost Files AU #Poppy Playtime Chapter 4 #Poppy Playtime #doey the doughman #kickin chicken #bobby bearhug #I was vibrating the entire time I typed #Me and my words in a fistfight to try and make something coherent #Thank you so so SO much for the ask #Lost Files Lore

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thanosscross · 5 months ago

Text

Your Man - Choi Seung Hyun/T.O.P X Race Car Driver! Reader

Summary: After Y/n L/n starts to rise to fame with her new racing career, she ends up in contact with an older celebrity, Seung Hyun, leading to one of the best things to ever happen to you, even if he was a little older.

Warnings: The highly requested, age gap story, lovelies! Reader is 23-24 and Seung Hyun is 36-37, so quite a gap, but everybody is of legal age! <3 other than that, I feel like it's mainly just fluff and angst with a hint of plot, so please enjoy lovelies <3

Whenever you entered your early twenties, you had high hopes, you had just graduated college, and your training to finally go on the race tracks for your agency. You knew from a very young age who you wanted to be, a race car driver, and you stuck with that idea throughout your childhood and teen years, until you finally made your idea a reality, becoming one of the newest drivers in this year of races.

Along with new found fame with your profession, you also came into contact with a lot of different famous people, people you felt were a lot more famous than you, but nonetheless they were still fans of yours. Including one person who ended up gaining your interest and almost all of your attention at first, Choi Seung Hyun, an older retired Idol, and actor. You didn't care that he was older, a lot older than you, he was sweet, and you both clicked together immediately, always talking in your free time, showing your new friend all your new car adjustments, seeing all of the artwork he had made or purchased, or just talking about upcoming events for you both. It didn't take very long for you both to develop feelings for each other, Seung Hyun was very, very skeptical at first, not wanting to cause any more drama or upstir with social media, especially not your fans, for being with someone who was 23 while he was 36. With your persistence and reassurance for a few months, Seung Hyun and Y/n L/n had finally made things official though, you both deciding to just come out with it to the media, before someone else got the chance to spoil it for you both.

So now you were going a year strong, you had your issues every now and then, but you both were each other's home, somewhere you felt safe, no matter where you were, what the environment was like, you'd always be home with each other.

As you laid on your apartment floor, you huffed, looking up towards your boyfriend who was visiting from South Korea, who was currently having an argument with himself in his head about how to bring up something to you. "Jagiya..are you okay?" You whispered, running a hand through your f/c dyed hair, it being part of your contract for promotional and appearance purposes, that you always had to match your style towards your current car, something Seung Hyun secretly hated. "Hmm?..Oh, I'm sorry, Aein, yea, yea I'm okay, why?" He replied after a moment, glancing back down towards you, you smiled softly at him, falling in love with him all over again as his hair fell in front of his glasses slightly. Slowly moving to sit on your knees, resting your hands on his knees as you tilted your head "I can tell somethings bothering you, don't make me pull the full name card" You threatened, giggling loudly as he gave you a confused look, not understanding exactly what you were threatening. As you moved to sit next to him, you smiled "Choi Seung Hyun, what's going on?" You asked softly, Seung Hyun nodded softly as he understood finally what a 'full name card' was, he was slowly catching onto the slang and phrases you used. "Now that my interviews are all wrapped up for now..I was thinking of staying to watch your race coming up?.." He offered nervously, it wasn't something either of you had spoken about before, yes you had been on set with him, often visiting him for his lunch breaks, but he hadn't ever been to one of your races in person. It wasn't because he didn't want to, of course he wanted to be there to support his #1 girl, but being seen like that in public felt very real for the both of you, it would just confirm everything and multiply any hate you'd get for your age gap. "R-Really? That'd be amazing, Jagiya! Please! Oh it'd be so awesome having you there! Everybody on my pit crew already loves you!" You rambled excitedly, placing your hands on his cheeks as he smiled at you, you looked absolutely beautiful to him, all the time, but especially whenever you were excited about something. "I'd love to, Aein, anything for my girl" He smiled softly, blushing still as you pressed your lips against his gently, resting one of your hands on his chest as you moved your lips against his. "Thank you! thank you" You cheered as you slowly pulled away, Seung Hyun laughing softly as you were still just as hyped up after the kiss you just had.

As Seung Hyun held you gently as you slept, he couldn't help but let his mind wander on how exactly he ended up with you. You were a famous 24-year-old American race car driver, and he was a retired 'controversial' 37-year-old actor, you could literally date any person you wanted, you were absolutely stunning, but you still chose him? He couldn't understand it, yes, he absolutely loved being with you, and loved loving you, but he just couldn't understand why out of everybody, you decided to be with him. The longer he let his mind ponder the thought, he could feel himself starting to doze, eventually falling asleep as he kept his arms around you, feeling a lot more comfortable with you close to him.

The next week would be hectic, none of your training or promotional gigs going as planned the week of the race, first your wheel malfunctions as your taking the first curve of the track during practice, then an interviewer starts asking wayyy too personal questions, and of course, to top it off, your brakes for some reason, stopped working, mid final practice. You were starting to lose hope until the day of the biggest race in your career currently, Daytona 500, as you walked out onto the track, finding your way towards your pit crew and family who were separated by a barricade, keeping press and other drivers' families away from the cars and track. As you approached the area, you frowned, seeing your mom, dad, and pit crew, but no Seung Hyun anywhere to be found "Hey mom, have you seen Seung Hyun? He said he'd be here" You asked, using the bar of the barricade to lift yourself up slightly to try and spot your boyfriend, but still, nothing.

Seung Hyun sat on a small platform above the starting line, he wanted to be with your family by the track, but after a few hundred people swarmed him at the entrance, security grabbed him away from the crowd, hiding him in the one spot they could think of at the moment. As you looked around, you finally sighed, glancing at your parents, shrugging sadly before turning towards the press, ready to get the race started, and hopefully figure out where the hell he is. While you spoke to the press, you failed to notice your boyfriend quickly moving across the empty track, two security guards escorting him towards your family finally. Moving back over to your car, you smiled brightly seeing the familiar face of Seung Hyun "Jegiya! I thought you wouldn't make it" You smiled brightly, leaning over the gate to hug him tightly, ignoring your mom's judgmental look, sure she supported you, but that didn't mean she liked the idea of you being with a much older man. "Of course I'd make it, I wanna see my aein kick some ass" He smiled brightly, cupping your cheeks as he pressed a quick kiss to your lips before all racers were called to their cars.

Climbing in through the window, you made sure to clip on your helmet, making sure your coms worked before starting up your engine, waiting for the greenlight from your pit crew to move over to the starting line. "Y/n, this is going to a smooth race, don't let this week get to you, all that matters right now is getting through this race" your Crew Chief, Jacob, said through your headset, causing you to shake your head gently "I know, I'm gonna try and make this one my best one yet, let's just keep everything quick, smooth, and keep lines open" You replied, pressing the small buttons on your helmet to start your playlist, 'Case 143' by Stray Kids starting to blast through your headphones as you watched the flag holder closely, getting ready to line up with the pace car.

The first thirty laps were going smoothly, you made your way from 27th place all the way up to fourth place without any issues. You knew most of the other drivers, either training with them, or just meeting them at different races, but there were still a handful you had never met, including the driver in fifth place behind you. "Y/n, fifth is right on your ass! Be careful!" Jacob shouted, watching nervously as the driver bumped the hood of his car against the rear of yours, causing you to lose control for a moment, somehow recovering just in time to block him from passing you. "Nice save, hun! Keep that quick mindset and get yourself to first, y/n/n!" He shouted, watching as you zipped past them quickly, your speedometer reading well over 100 miles per hour. As you attempted to pass the car in front of you, you felt your heart fall as you realized you were trapped between the wall and third place driver, along with another car close behind you, basically boxing you in. As you glanced over, you shot the driver a dirty glare, knowing damn well he'll get a penalty if anything happens, so all he was doing was being a dick by trapping you. As you managed to get your car free from his and the wall, you were flung against the seatbelt by another car slamming into your back fender, sending you into a spinning wreck as your car spun out into the turf in the center of the track. "Y/n!? Y/n! Get the hell back on the track!" Jacob pleaded, begging every god out there for you to fucking move already, you wouldn't be able to though, your padded suit and leg getting caught between your seat and gearshift, making it almost impossible to press the gas or breaks "J-Jacob I can't move!" You shouted, starting to panic, feeling a sense of dread as you watched cars starting zip past quickly, if you didn't figure out something quick, you were surely going to lose your spot, and become so far behind, it unfixable. Slamming your other foot on the gas, you felt the car jerk forward, sending you speeding back onto the track as you merged back in with the race.

Seung Hyun could feel his body being consumed by nerves, hating the idea of him not being able to help you in any way, but as you zipped past quickly, passing two other cars in the process, he knew you had this as under control as possible. You could feel your heart start to hammer in your chest as you raced side by side with the driver who was currently in first place, your nerves too high to notice any glares or hand gestures he sent towards you through his window. "Now Y/n! Go!" Jacob screamed into the headset, noticing you only had one curve left to pass this guy or else the race would end in a tie, or with you in second "I'm going!" You shouted, growling whenever the driver next to you did the same thing, both of you speeding up as you whipped around the corner quickly. As you pressed harder on the gas, you could feel the pain in your leg start become a lot worse, but your mind was only focusing on two things. Winning, and the sounds of Seung Hyun in the background of Jacob's chants, cheering you on to be badass and to take the gold. As you passed the driver, taking on first place, your tires crossed the finish line, causing cheers to erupt from everywhere, the stands, barricade line, and your headset. Taking a victory lap to help slow down your high speeds before parking, letting the panic wash over you as you realized how much pain you were truly in from your leg being stuck. As you glanced down, you tried your best to assess the damage without freaking yourself out more, your knee was stuck between the gear shift and seat, and your foot was twisted in an unnatural way as it was caught in the track on your seat. “J-Jacob, I-I’m stuck bad, I need a medic” you whimpered, trying desperately to pry your helmet off of your head so you could at least get some freedom “okay, okay! We’ve got a medic on her way, we’re gonna try and get you out of the car until then okay?” His voice came through the coms as you tried your best to pry the plastic pieces apart to free your knee at least, only causing you even more pain.

The minute Seung Hyun realized you weren’t getting out of your car and something was wrong, he threw himself over the barricade, rushing along side Jacob to the driver side of your car. “Aein, baby, are you okay?” He asked frantically, reaching through the open window to hold onto your shaking hands gently. “I-i’m…chilling” you whimpered, trying not to cry or panic in front of him, knowing it’d just make him panic and start dismantling your car to get you out, even if it meant totaling it out. “Are you bleeding? What happened?” He continued rambling, not stepping back until the medics pulled him back, as he watched from a few feet away, he made eye contact with your parents, feeling a new kind of anxiousness filling his body as his mind started to spiral. Moving to rush over to your parents to swap them spots, feeling like it was more of your parents’ place to be there, waiting, instead of him. Your mother huffed giving him a confused look “What’re you doing, dear!? Why aren’t you staying over there?!” Your mother asked, tilting her head as she watched him nervously stop in his tracks “I-i, your h-her mom and dad-“ he started to ramble, your mother wasn’t stupid, and she knew exactly how Seung Hyun felt, you weren’t the only one who had started dating an older man, and while she didn’t like it, she wasn’t going to become her own mother. “Honey, she needs you. She’s going to want to see you for comfort as soon as she’s out of that car, so I’m telling you as your future mother in law, go take care of my daughter.” She demanded, watching as her words kind of gave Seung Hyun the push he needed to get into a non-panicked mindset, rushing back over to your car as the medics slowly helped you out of the car, keeping your leg in a wooden splint to keep it stable.

“Aein! Baby I’m here!” He shouted quickly, rushing past your pit crew and press that now swarmed you, he wrapped his arm around you gently, following the medics as he helped you support yourself as you walked with him.

After being sent from the medical building, to the actual hospital, you were finally able to return back home to your apartment, much to your relief. As you laid on your bed, you glared at the bright f/c cast that sat on your leg going from your thigh all the way to your toes, covering your knee, ankle, and foot to help it in the healing process. “You know..glaring won’t make it go away” your boyfriend whispered, his voice still heavenly to your ears as he slowly made his way from the doorway to his spot next to you in bed. “I hate it, you know they said I can’t drive for eight months, if not longer!?” You gasped dramatically, cupping his cheeks “I’m going to die! I swear! How the fuck am I supposed to live laugh and love in these conditions? Honestly?” You ranted, motioning to your leg “because I am not living! Laughing! Or loving! And it’s criminal damnit!” You continued, not noticing your boyfriend’s beyond confused face at all of your phrases that you were throwing around. It wasn’t that Seung Hyun was bad at English, he had actually gotten a lot better since he started talking with you almost daily, but he did get confused about certain things you’d say, one of them being you calling things criminal, how was your leg being broken criminal? Was breaking your leg actually illegal in America? Surely not, but, if not why was it criminal? “Are you going to jail?” He asked softly, feeling his heart starting to break as he genuinely started to believe the longer you rant, the more illegal, and criminal it was to break your leg “Wha-..? Oh Jegiya, my love no!” You giggled, catching your mistake almost as soon as you saw his overly worried expression “h-how is that criminal then?..” he asked tilting his head slightly as he leaned back against the pillows, pulling you close, all while being cautious of your cast and leg.

“It’s just a thing..that people say I guess, it’s not actually criminal though, Jegiya, I promise” you smiled, not being able to hold back your giggles as he nodded gently. You couldn’t help it, he was so damn adorable whenever he was confused like this, it just made you want to hug him and never let go. “Is there anything I can do for you, love?” Seung Hyun whispered after a moment, tracing his fingers over your shoulder as he let out a deep breath “Just you, Jegiya” you whispered, holding onto him tightly as you closed your eyes, letting yourself relax “hey Y/n?…” he whispered gently, causing you to tilt your head up gently to meet his gaze “I’m proud of you, you’re like..the coolest badass I know” he smiled softly, pressing his lips to your forehead gently “ya know, ever since I showed you the word badass in English, you’ve been calling me it every five seconds” you laughed, watching as he just shrugged in reply “because you’re a badass, I’m just saying the truth” he replied playfully, starting to run his fingers through your hair as he took another breath “Aein…how would you feel about getting a home here together?” He asked after a moment, you sat up, tilting your head, silently asking him to repeat himself just to make sure you heard him correctly, after getting confirmation that, yes, he did want to get a house with you, you smiled brightly. “I would be so excited!! Please! I’d love it so much” you smiled, hugging him tightly as you smiled, as you laid there for a little longer, Seung Hyun had one last question for you, it starting to chip away at him way too much for him to stay quiet any longer.

“Why did you ask me out?..like, out of everybody in this world, why some weird guy who’s way older than you? Wouldn’t you want somebody your age? Who’s able to keep up with you?” He rambled, causing you to sit up again, this time highly offended, how fucking dare he, not only questioning your judgement, but also talking down towards himself? What the fuck. “Stop. Just stop it Seung Hyun. I like my weird guy, he’s weird like me, and it makes him fun to be around” you started your lecture, taking his hand in yours gently as you spoke “and for the other stuff? I’ve told you, my love. The same reason you like me, I didn’t fall in love with your age or name, I fell in love with you, and your personality, and trust me, handsome, you keep up with me better than anybody, you’re amazing” you giggled, biting your bottom lip teasingly as he rolled his eyes towards you jokingly “I just mean-“ you cut him off before he could even start his protests “Choi Seung Hyun. I love you.” You demanded, not knowing how to get it through to him without just stating how you truly felt towards him. “Y/n…” he whispered, trying to think of what to say as his anxiety started to take over his body “I love you too” he whispered, pressing his lips against yours, moving his with yours as he gently placed his hands on your side and cheek.

You weren’t sure what was going to happen after you recovered, but you were 100% sure about one thing, just like you were sure about being a race car driver, you were going to marry this man. As you pulled away slowly, you rested a hand on his cheek gently “I’m so sleepy, I just wanna lay here with you” you whispered tiredly, moving to lay your head on his chest, tracing shapes onto his chest as you felt yourself starting to doze “well I would be too, Aein, you had one hell of a day” he replied, continuing to run his fingers through your hair as you slowly fell asleep, leaving Seung Hyun to his own thoughts before finally falling asleep himself.

—

What do we think lovelies? You like? I’m so sorry it’s been awhile, like I said a few days ago, I’ve been stuck in a small rut feeling as if my stories haven’t been coming out that well at all, that or they’re just not good ideas at all, so I tried my best with this one as I’m trying to just push through that rut, trying to keep in mind every artist will always be their biggest critic, but it’s been a little difficult but you lovelies are always such a big help and support 💕 While I'm very nervous to start posting the stories I'm iffy about, your guys' support is definitely helping me through it all, so thank you all truly, for everything you've done for me, it means the world, and universe. 💕💕 I’ve gotten quite a bit of asks and messages about an Age Gap story with Seung Hyun and a younger reader, so please! Please! Please! Let me know what you think, next to be posted is my ‘stepdad! Ji-Yong x single mother! Reader’ story, which I’m very excited about so stay tuned lovelies! maybe after that a part two to this if you'd like? Or another age gap story if you'd like? Let me know! <3 I love you 🫶🫶 and I’m excited to hear from you!! 🫶💕

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