#Another Meh

[ravetillyoucry]

PUPARIA

Chapter 5 - Kute

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God, what the fuck did he drink last night. Hosah's head throbbed as he strained open his eyes. Laying there for a second, hand covering his face to block the light coming in from the un-closed curtains, the still very much tiny man recalled having the ridiculous dream last night. I mean, why would he ever ask Teddy to stay the night, that was so unbelievably unlike him, he didn't think his brain could even make that sort of shit up. Turning to his side, Hosah rubbed his eyes open completely in preparation for the day.

Definitely not a dream.

The shifter had to hold down a scream when his assistant had rolled to his side, the two now facing eachother. Both of them were still fully dressed, shoes and all. Embarrassingly, the only thing on Hosah's mind was what did they do last night.

"Good morning. I was wondering when you'd wake up." Teddy sat up, leant looming over the tiny form sprawled out on the bed.

Hosah could barely gather his words; "I- We, what happened last night?" the surprise left him out of breath.

The giant looked confused for a second before turning to laughter, "Oh, god, nothing. You fell straight asleep right after asking me to stay."

Eugh. Embarrassing. So embarrassing in fact, he'd almost forgotten entirely about the previous day.

"God, we've got fifteen dead bodies to chase up. I swear these serial killers are doing it on purpose just to make my life miserable." the tiny man took a break to rub the sleep from his drowsy doe eyes, "I mean, fifteen is way too much. It's not classy, it's overkill.. Literally." Hosah wasn't so used to talking right after waking up it seemed, as his usually internal stream of thoughts came pouring out of his mouth at an uncontrollable pace.

"Mm. Are you.. Okay, by the way?" Ah, how sweet, Teddy remembered his little accidental breakdown.

"Oh, god yeah. No, I'm okay. It's just, I don't know. You wouldn't get it, but shifters, we stick together, you know? That's like seeing my brothers and sisters dead in front of me. Those are my brothers and sisters." Hosah's eyes drifted off onto his feet, which were still in his boots, "If we don't look out for each other, who will?"

His assistant layed back down beside him, face in his folded arms at eye level with the shrunken man, he had that same, stupid soft expression he always pulled whenever Hosah said anything particularly nice. "That's- Ah, that's very beautiful. I didn't realise you were so sentimental."

The detective had never really thought of himself in such a way. "Psh, tell me about it, you know what Jeanne said to me yesterday? I've got a little body and a big bleeding heart. Come on. That's cheesy. That's gross. I don't wanna think about that, I don't wanna imagine that visual." He fell back, now facing the ceiling, which was so unimaginably far away when he was like this.

"Aw, no that's cute. I hadn't seen that side of you before. Big feelings, little guy." Teddy instantly regretted his words as soon as they came out of his mouth.

"Stop. I'll throw up, seriously." neither of the two wanted to push the statement further. Besides, it was time to think about heading into the office. "What time is it?"

Hosah's room was unimaginably bare, a futon on the floor, a window with curtains, and a pair of bedside tables. This wasn't including his dresser of shrunken clothes or the clutter of painting materials that sat in the corner, but that was the gist of it. He'd been meaning to do some furniture shopping for what, five years now?

As there was no clock to turn to, Teddy leant over to check his phone.

"Seven thirty, just about." That was a relief. At least now, he'd be able to get his morning bath, he was sure he reeked of dead body after yesterday.

The tiny detective stood to his full height, barely able to keep balance on the spongy mattress, "You can use the shower if you want. I'm gonna take a bath."

The visual Teddy pictured in his head made his face subconsciously curl up into a smile. It seemed that their life really had turned into the tropes you'd find in your average, cheesy romance drama. At least with a little help, running the bath would be a much easier process.

Over the years of independence, Hosah had thought a lot about assisted living. Moving into one of those residential houses where he could be looked after, it seemed like the dream end goal for any shifter with no prospects of falling in-love. He'd decided to put the idea on the back-burner until he was in his mid thirties, he had all the time in the world to get around and find someone to love and look after him.

As he sat in the wooden bowl, half his body submerged under water, Hosah continued to ponder about his life thus far- although it was awkward to ignore the fact his assistant was sitting on the closed toilet seat to the back on him. It were times like these, when he'd seen lives be cut so short, that he thought a lot about his parents. When they were his age, Hosah was already five years old, and his brother would've been seven. He lowered himself deeper into the bath, wondering what exactly he'd achieved in the five years spent out all on his own in the big city.

Sometimes, Hosah thought it was too late for him. He'd spent so much of his twenties either hunched over a desk or barely tall enough to get around his apartment. Years of looking over missing person after missing person's cases made him wish it to have been him instead. These people had goals, prospects, promising futures, they were going to ivy league schools, they had babies on the way, they had an important job to fulfil, all things Hosah thought to be worth living for. It wasn't right to think in such a way, especially when it was down to him to bring these people justice, but it was getting increasingly hard not to with age.

Honestly, he wasn't sure if getting worked up over this- or the fact Teddy stayed the night upon his own request, was really all that worth it. There were bigger things to be worrying about, like, maybe the literal serial killer his team had stumbled upon.

"You're gonna prune up if you stay in there any longer, you know." The voice scared the shit out of him, but it was just Teddy, sitting with his feet up on the seat, patterned socks on display.

He was right, Hosah had been sitting and soaking for a while by now. Waiting until his assistant had turned to face the wall, the shifter quickly stumbled out and covered himself up. He'd embarrassed himself enough by now, flashing Teddy would be the final straw.

When the giant turned back around, the shift in his expression said all it needed to. That stupid tilt of his eyebrows, the way that everyone seemed to look at Hosah when they'd see just how terrible his condition had gotten.

"I know it's a Tuesday and all," Teddy's eyes adverted towards the ground, "But, we should hang out tonight. Get dinner or something. Do you like the movies? 'd only have to pay for one ticket."

Eh. Whatever. It wasn't like Hosah had anything productive to do once he got home. "Uh, sure, yeah sounds good. Just take whatever you need from my wallet before we leave." although it was nice to get a break from paying for his food the last week, Hosah had begun to feel increasingly bad about not paying his way. Hosah had actually been feeling bad about most things lately.

"No- no need, we share anyway, and it's not like, a fifty fifty split," Teddy's pitiful laugh as he said it was all that needed to be heard. The shifter knew he'd get nowhere by trying to argue.

Hosah was aware of how difficult it was to dance around the topic of his shifting, especially when he was, well, shifted, but it was still a bummer to hear the stark differences between him and Teddy be so loudly pointed out, even when not being addressed directly. Whenever something even slightly in reference to himself and his obvious lack of height came up, a feeling similar to that of being pelted with rocks came over him. Any sort of pleasant mood would be instantly squashed under the landslide of self awareness.

He wouldn't really peg himself as all that insecure of a person, but it were times like these when Hosah wished to have not been born this way. He wanted to argue about who payed the bill, and have it be a fair argument at that. The saying about not being able to 'have your cake and eat it too' always flew over his head when he was younger, but Hosah seemed to be applying it to his own life more than he'd like to admit.

Returning to the bedroom, draped in a towel that extended from his shoulders all the way down to his feet, the tiny detective now had the responsibility of getting ready to leave for work once more. The daily grind had gotten extremely, painfully repetitive by now, after five years of constantly being at it, rarely ever even getting weekends off, even the thought of having to wake up, get ready, take the tube, walk to the office, et cetera, had begun to wear Hosah down. He felt like a balding tire, one harsh turn away from skidding, crashing, and bursting into flames.

It barely took him half a second to decide what to wear. Despite being freshly cleaned, Hosah still looked pretty emaciated. If he could go back ten years, but remain in his current physical condition, they'd call him 'heroin chic'. The shifter laughed to himself at that thought, buttoning up the same old plain shirt he'd had for years by now. To be honest, his look would be totally in fashion if 'Victorian era chimney sweep' was a current trend. Hosah's Mom always told him that laughing at, seemingly, nothing was a sign of insanity, but he found his own thoughts too amusing to keep a straight face.

Using the little mirror in the jewellery box, the doll-sized man made an attempt to fix his hair and got a good look at his face. Seems he slept better than he thought, as his eye-bags were uncharacteristically small and light, although the prominent fat under his eye gave the illusion of having them either way. This was actually a feature Hosah had always liked about himself, mainly because he was told by the Korean side of his family about how it was a desired trait back home, if you could call a place you'd never even been home.

Looking at himself in the mirror, the shifter's thoughts lingered on Teddy once again. He thought about earlier in the morning, seeing his face so up close, the assistant's cheek pressed against the mattress, able to feel his breath brush over himself, feel his voice send vibrations to his core. Before he'd realised it, Hosah's face was flushing red again, just as it was when he first realised he wasn't alone in his room. His hand brushed over the surface of his own face, imagining what it'd be like to have Teddy's moles, or his straight nose, or his shaped jaw, or even his singular crooked fang that stuck out as he smiled.

Maybe Teddy wasn't the weird one of the two after-all, as the realisation of what exactly the shrunken blond was thinking about hit him like a ton of bricks. He needed to stop, he was being weird, what if Teddy was actually just like Edward from Twilight as he'd initially suspected and was reading his mind right now. All of these aspects forced his brain to quiet down for at least a second, giving him the time to take in his surroundings, and take them in he did.

The taller of the two could not startle Hosah this time around with his spontaneous appearance, as the shifter turned on his heels to face the approaching giant before he'd even got the chance to make himself known by his own hand.

Hosah craned his neck up, staring into the incomprehensible abyss that was six foot above him. Teddy had to be at least 6'3, probably an inch or two more if he was being honest. The shifter barely just reached ankle height, leaving way for the perfect opportunity to pull the good old 'tug on trouser leg and demand to be lifted up' trick. Just being reminded of such an action gave Hosah a blast of nostalgia, as he recalled doing the same thing to his Dad when he was a kid.

Without Teddy having realised he'd been noticed, the detective took half a dozen quick leaps forward before grabbing onto the fabric and pulling with all the upper body strength he had, "Come on, let's go,"

-~-

Having a new person around the office seemed to be doing some good for Hosah. Being assisted without feeling as though he should just find a way to do said things himself was refreshing, but old habits were hard to break, as he still found himself making attempts at tasks that, for him, would be extremely difficult to pull off, but for Teddy, would take barely the movement of his non-dominant hand. In some ways, it pissed Hosah off, making him wonder if the rookie had any cocky thoughts as he helped with ease, but it also proved to be extremely useful in speeding up just about everything he had to get done at the same time.

Maybe constantly isolating himself and refusing any aid was actually bad for his mental and physical health after all.

Ehhh, probably not.

The two actually made quite the good team, as in just two hours, they'd managed to get a missing person's family out to the office, back where all the evidence was being held. Now all that had to be done was to wait and see if they could confirm or deny the identity of body number seven.

Neither Hosah or Teddy were all that involved in these kinds of processes, honestly, their jobs were quite minor in the bulk of it all. Look for patterns in the cases, things that could link back to anything recent, or even anything that had occurred years ago, just dwindle down the possibilities of a culprit into a manageable size, that was just about it. At least, that was it on big cases such as this one. Usually, Hosah's job would be to go out to a much less severe and complex scene, usually a domestic case that had ended in a dangerous situation, and act as a mediator sort of figure, one that would provide a sense of security and trust, one that would be able to get a straight story out of someone, especially another shifter.

Being a shifter did actually have quite a few perks in those regards. A lot of people find the tiny folk to be very cute and endearing, the amount of late night talk hosts that would hang around on a random celebrity's shoulder for an interview was incomprehensible. You might think 2% of the population was an extremely small number of individuals, but it also meant there were just about 136,000,000 shifters currently living globally in the year 2009, which seemed like a lot more when put in that way.

There was just something so undeniably sweet about a person no taller than about four or five inches that the non-shifter population seemed to love, which made Hosah's job undeniably more painful that it had to be. He never minded speaking to other shifters, in fact, he'd much preferred his title of victim advocate over looking at pictures of dead bodies, it was just the giants that gave him a sickly feeling in his stomach.

More specifically, the giants on the police force. Cross communication wasn't typically the role Hosah would have to take, but on the rare occasion it was, he'd leave the station with a large chunk of his will to live having being chipped off over the course of the entire process. He felt as though he had to prove himself every time he spoke to a different officer, the shifter didn't understand what gave them the right to think so highly of themselves when they weren't even doing the hard work. Hosah felt the way they looked at him, especially in his shrunken state, like he was nothing but an object kept around to be a piece of entertainment. Psh. Whatever.

The small, disheveled man pulled at his hair to snap out of his thoughts, feeling his body get progressively more tense the more he remembered things that had pissed him off in the past.

An opening and closing of the door grabbed Hosah's attention. It was Teddy, except he had a particularly sad look on his face, one the detective had never seen before.

"Yeah, you can go ahead and put the missing persons report in number seven's file. That's him." Teddy didn't even look at the shrunken figure on his desk, he just took a seat on his chair and slumped down a little, causing it to spin to the left, facing away from the table entirely.

It took a few moments of sorrowful sighs before the assistant noticed Hosah's increasing struggles to do as he'd asked, letting out a quiet 'Right, sorry' as Teddy rushed to take over from the activity.

This field of work sucked. No matter how depressed, pessimistic or nihilistic it made him, Hosah still felt some kind of obligation to stay. Whether that be his underlying messiah complex, or the weight of his and Jules' shared history, it kept him at this desk, looking over files, and overall becoming the worst version of himself he could possibly be.

He'd never actually seen Teddy look so sad, which made sense, they'd only been working together for the past week, but it was still concerning either way. Hosah had just assumed his assistant was much better than him at the 'keep work and feelings separate' thing, but clearly they had another thing in common.

Augh. The silence was killing him. Trying not to raise any suspicions about the fact that, despite acting like he didn’t, Hosah was fond of his assistant, the tiny detective shifted his position until he sat, kneeled next to Teddy’s resting knuckles against the desk.

“So.. You okay?” Ehhh, that’ll do. Hosah had never been all that good with using words and addressing feelings.

The unsuspected close contact surprised his assistant a little as his chair wheeled back toward the table, “Me? Yeah, of course, yeah. Do I not seem okay?”

“..No, not really. You look sad.”

Teddy laughed, his eyebrows still tilted down, “Ahh, well,” he paused for a moment, taking a breath in and twirling his hands by his face, as if that meant anything, “This stuff just happens. I thought I’d be more thick skinned by now.”

Hosah knew all too well about this subject. “Ugh, tell me about it.” the tiny man shifted his position, his side leant against the giant, resting fist.

“I definitely thought, after the lesson my grandparents taught me about becoming too emotionally involved in work, I wouldn’t end up like this,” Even though he was smiling, it was obvious that Teddy wasn’t all that happy talking about it.

Hosah’s curiosity got the best of him, inquiring further with a little ‘Mm?’.

“Well, it’s a funny story actually,” From the way Teddy had mentioned it previously, the shifter could tell it was not in fact going to be a funny story. “I was like, maybe eleven, spending the summer at my grandparent’s farm, and it was really boring down there. Once I’d finished my work for the day, there was nothing to do except read or wander around, even the closest village was like, a three mile bike ride away.”

Teddy paused to run a hand through his hair, spinning on his chair so that him and the shifter weren’t face to face. “Anyway, I ended up spending a lot of time just hanging out with the animals, and this one hen was super attached to me, followed me around where she could, sat on my lap, like a real pet, you know? Well, since she was a hen and all, I didn’t think there’d be any consequence to it, I mean, we needed the eggs right? But my grandma was really annoyed, she took me out back to the shed where.. You know. I- You can probably guess what happened , after..”

“Oh, oh shit. What? That’s horrible. What the fuck.” Hosah could barely get his words out. Damn, and he thought he had some pretty brutal childhood stories.

His assistant had that same bittersweet look on his face. “After that, I thought I was hard as nails, but I guess not so much. Ah, c’est la vie, right?”

“Hmm, I guess,” what a nonchalant take. As he watched Teddy swivel back around on his seat to face him again, the shrunken detective decided not to question him further on the story. “You never told me what happened, with the family of that missing person. That’s body seven?” Hosah could infer exactly what happened, but decided to change the subject anyway.

“Right, yeah. That’s him. I don’t know. Having seen the body itself, I thought I’d take it all a lot better but.. Speaking to his parents, watching them learn their kid is really seriously dead. It just breaks my heart, you know? If I was in their position, I don’t know if I’d ever recover.”

If he could’ve, the tiny man sat beside Teddy’s hand would’ve held it in his own. “Mm. That’s how I feel towards just about every case I’ve ever worked on. Hah, we’re really not tough enough for this job, huh?”

And tough enough they weren’t. It felt as though the two detectives left on the office floor had just encountered some supernatural activity, as Hosah swore he felt the temperature drop by a few degrees in a split second. It was Jules, the head of the entire agency. The shifter didn’t know whether to give her the cold shoulder, or to thank her, regarding the situation she’d put both him and Teddy in not so long ago.

God, she may be terrifying, but she’s drop dead gorgeous. He’d always thought Jules had the looks, the height, and the body to go into runway modelling, but it seemed she preferred to surround herself with death’s imminent presence, and a few guys she can psychologically torture. It always perplexed the shifter, how someone so evil could look so angelic.

“What are you two still doing here? You could’ve gone home an hour ago, you know that right? Is he forcing you to stay back late with him, Edward?” Jules took a seat on the desk at which the two detectives sat both at and on.

No matter how much she pissed him off, Hosah always fell back on the ‘but she’s so beautiful though’ excuse. Despite the fact her jaw and cheekbones were as sharp as ever, her features were all still so soft, as her eyelashes and eyebrows were the same almost white blonde colour as her long, slicked back hair. He had no idea how anyone could make a pencil skirt and ill-fitting blouse look so high fashion, but Jules just had that kind of look to her.

“No, no, just got busy with chasing up missing persons reports. We got one, number seven isss..” Teddy’s hands were shaking a little as he grabbed the file from Hosah’s side, where the giant’s hand once rested. “Here, Charlie Laurent. Reported three months ago today.”

Her hand wrapped around the rookie’s wrist as she tilted the file toward herself, “Hmm, oh, right. Alice told me he’s guessing the bodies were ordered in a particular way, by when they’d been killed, based on decomposition stages. Still waiting on all the autopsies to get back to us to confirm that theory though.”

Alice was Jeanne’s last name, honestly, most people around the agency referred to him as such, sometimes Hosah felt like the only person who actually knew his first name.

Just as quickly as she came, the slender woman hopped up off the desk, giving Teddy a ruffle of the hair on her way out. How she could do that in heels, no one knew.

Once the coast was clear, the assistant leant in, “God, I’m shaking.” Teddy whispered as if he didn’t want her to hear him, despite the fact she had long left the room. She always did this kind of thing, start a conversation, then leave whenever she got sick of talking. There was really no rhyme or reason to her behaviour, that’s just the type of person she was. The type of person that made no sense at all, which is what made her so enticing and so scary at the same time. Unpredictable, that’s what she was.

“She’s not really all that scary. Then again, I’ve known her for like, ten years by now.” The tiny man shrugged, standing up preparing to leave himself. “Anyway. That doesn’t matter. What’s on at the theatres tonight?”

[snarkspawn]

it's missing wenzhou hours friends

happy lunar new year!! 🧧🧨🐉

[spookyji]

fav place to cum. txt

nsfw, mdni. hmm, i’m in the mood to write hcs like these more than fics rn but also i have a big backlog of asks i need to catch up on eep

yeonjun = creampies, it’s not up for debate. it’s so possessive and addictive, the way he needs to fill you up with his cum and watch it seep out, mark you up inside and out so there’s no doubt you’re his. the corner of his lip pulled up into a smirk when your legs lock around his slender waist, never want him to pull out, hmm? not when he’s hitting that spot every time, rough and fast thrusts that leave you a whining mess, he’ll make you beg for him to cum inside. and there’s nothing better than being filled up to the brim with his cum, insides painted white with his cream. coos at you in a teasing way when your whimpering it’s too much, seed drooling from your cunt when he finally pulls out, dripping down on his sheets. slaps your sensitive folds, all marked up in his cum ‘cause you look so cute when you’re crying from overstim, feels so good to be fucked dumb, gonna let him fill you up again? one load’s not enough.

soobin… obviously inside, but genuinely, all over your boobs is his weakness if he can manage to pull out… maybe it’s better to give him a titjob as foreplay, he’ll cum in like 2 minutes flat. so obsessed with your tits, so soft n plush, the flushed, leaking tip of his cock protruding from the crevice between your boobs, on your knees, hold them in place for him while soobin thrusts messily into your breasts, moaning all over about how good it feels, his eyes can’t move from the sight of his throbbing cock fucking your tits, your pretty fingers squishing the plush of your chest together for him, oh, he’s so fucked, cums all over your tits in a creamy mess, so much milky white spurted on you,, soobin pushing you down on your back, need to clean you up, baby, tongue licking up his cum off your boobs, leaving a warm trail of saliva, face buried in your tits, have to make sure you’re all clean, hmm? tongue swirling over your sensitive nipple, a string of saliva hanging from his lip to the little nub… gonna let him have his way a little longer?

beomgyu’s so into doggy all because he gets to cum all over your ass, make a sticky mess when he pulls out as viscous cream drips down your curves to your thighs,, his favorite after completely ruining your pussy. careful when you beg beomgyu for harder, ‘cause he’s already such an addict for a hard, quick fuck, long bangs sticking to his skin with sweat, hands grabbing at your ass, his head tipped forwards as he pants through his parted lips, feels so good to release so much stress all at once, doesn’t it? the kind of sex that probably gets him complaints from neighbors for being so loud, lewd slaps of skin on skin and beomgyu’s just so big, stuffing you full with every thrust ‘til he’s about to burst,, and he’s so good at it, pulling out and jerking off himself off to finish all over your ass, warm, sticky cum coating your skin as you whine cause it’s such a mess to clean up later,, on another note, he’s still waiting for the day he gets to fuck your ass when it’s covered in his cum

taehyun’s guilty pleasure is covering your face in his cum, hot milky seed that drips down your glasses and on your tongue as you lick it off your lips. you’re so pretty when you’re on your knees in front of him, lips wrapped ‘round his cock, hand tangled in your hair pushing you deeper, a choked sound from your throat before he’ll relent. precum and drool all over your lips, his cock slick with spit, a hint of teeth briefly against the sensitive, prominent veins. the way taehyun adjusts your tilted glasses for you, just before he pushes your head down harder, god, he has so much self control, he could last for so long, your knees sore against the hard floor,, don’t you deserve a treat for doing so well? open up. hot cream spurted all over your face, dripping on your tongue, glasses, and skin, so pretty when milky ropes of cum coat your face. under taehyun’s relentless gaze as you lick it off your lips and swallow,, no, he won’t make you clean all of it up right away, you look too perfect like this.

huening kai’s stamina is too much for you? it’s more than just his favorite place, your stomach, his cum spilt in sloppy ropes all over your skin and on his sheets, oh, he’s so messy. legs thrown over his shoulders so he can thrust deeper, moans slipping from his throat at the sight of the little bulge he makes in your cum covered stomach when you’re full of his cock, your soft skin coated in his cum, another sticky sensation dripping down your thighs from how many loads ago? sex is so messy when it’s kai, he’s just so obsessed with you and your body, he can’t get enough, a white ring around his cock ‘cause he’s already filled you up, too. your legs sore and tired, whiny apologies because he’s still not had enough, just one more, please, you can take it, he knows you can. mhmm, one more load, cums right on your pussy. kai, ‘s messy, you mumble, can barely think straight, but he’s so sweet… and clumsy, using his discarded shirt to try to clean you up a little,,

[sunshinepixels]

Move in day 🚚🏠📦

ft. another florida house from yours truly

[msmimundo]

Day 12: Fireside girls!

It sucks that there arent enough not overly girly cartoons protagonized by girls but some make the girl characters weird and gang coded and a menace and completely unhinged and just for that i forgive them, but watch out. Inspired on that one Camp Camp episode. If you watch cc you know the one. @howtonerdoutovereverything

Bonus:

[clone-futon]

He's soft and pinchable so treat him with care Cone

[wandixx]

Danny the Young Justice member

“Hey, like, hypothetically, do you think Justice League could pay me if I became hero full time?”

It shaped out to be pretty long and boring stake-out, with rest of Team scattered around but connected with Mindlink, so it seemed like best moment to ask. It wasn’t something Danny wanted to do, but it shaped out to be his only chance to get any future. He cried over it enough times already, so there was even a chance he won’t breakdown trying to discuss it out in the semi-public. He wanted to keep it as calm and rational as he could and hey, if something started to get too emotional, he could say he saw some suspicious movement and fly off to fight someone. Really, it was perfect situation.

“How hypothetical is this question?” Robin asked after a beat of silence. It was quiet and careful, like he was afraid to set him off if he said something wrong or he did it wrong way. It made skin on his back crawl. Danny knew he was a bit more volatile lately, but he really hoped special treatment would stop soon.

“Hypothetical”

“Okay, let’s say we don’t know it’s a lie”

“Unnecessary” Artemis coughed.

“C’mon it kinda was–”

“Can someone just answer my fucking question?”

“I don’t think so. Batman is the one doing most of the funding, and he is really stubborn about school and future. He wants us all to have chance at normal life outside of this hero villain business with regular job and stuff”

That didn’t bode well, but Danny hadn’t got this far by losing hope whenever first obstacle occurred.

“But I could be ready whenever disaster strikes or some villain attacks or really whenever it’s necessary and I wouldn’t need to escape any civilian stuff,” he may have gotten a bit desperate along this little rant, but he just pushed through “It always takes precious minutes and–”

“It doesn’t really seem to be hypothetical anymore,” Wally interrupted and he was lucky to be on different roof, because Danny, he sworn to ancients, would strangle him if redhead was any closer.

He was very adamant about not thinking about how his last ideas of surviving to adulthood started crumbling. He promised himself to not have breakdown in the open.

He wasn’t going to.

It was fine.

He would figure something out. He always did.

“Danny?”

“It’s fine Meg, don’t worry”

“Can we ask what brought this hypothetical on your mind? You’ve always were the most assured that you’ll stop being hero at some point and move on”

Bless Kaldur to always know when to ask best-worst question. Danny wasn’t going to cry, so he wasn’t going to answer.

“We can’t help you if we don’t what’s wrong,” M’gann said softly, like she was just trying to remind him.

Something small hit his lap. A tear. When did it get here?

“It’s fine. It’s just a stupid thought”

“Okay. Tell us when you’re ready”

“Something suspicious is going on, I think it’s what we’re looking for,” Everyone needed Conner on their squad to get conversation back on not emotional track.

As it turned out it was indeed what they were looking for, and soon Danny got to express all of his pent up aggression in only a bit misplaced way.

“That was harsh”

“Shut up, this one doesn’t have pain receptors”

“Phantom has a bad day, huh?”

“You’re about to have worse,” he growled and punched guy until he stopped grinning.

It was quick work after that.

“Danny?”

Only bad side of Mindlink was that he couldn’t act like he was losing connection. It would be useful right now.

“Danny?”

“Not now”

“In the Bioship then. Not a minute later, am I clear?”

“Crystal”

He started calculating a way to get out before. He used to do it all the time, at the beginning. It was easier when Team didn’t know about his human side and they were holding each other at the arms length, but still. He could–

Conner landed right behind him and put hand on his shoulder. It wasn’t restrain, it wasn’t assuring. It was just there.

Here came his plans of escape.

“So–” Artemis started as soon as the door of Ship had closed “– what the fuck is wrong with you lately?”

“We all know it’s not nothing”

“I’m being overdramatic”

“About what?”

Danny just slumped forward and his face in hands.

“Danny”

“I have to retake year. I’m not even half way through highschool and I’m already failing and I- I just can’t do better. It’s not like I don’t have time to study, and I do try sometimes, but just as often I’m just being dumb and messing around, and I knew I failed some other tests, but last one? Last one I was sure I’ve got it, I was trying, I was trying so hard and I still fucked it up and if I can’t make it even when- even when I’m trying my best, then what is the point?”

He took a moment to breathe, to rub tearing eyes. He still wasn’t going to cry.

“I’m already kinda good at this hero thing, so I could just keep it up. I don’t think I’ll make it to the end of high school, so no good job for me, but maybe I could. I could have something, you know. Something useful. Something good. Maybe I can have some life after all”

Someone rubbed his back but he didn’t raise his head to see who.

“I didn’t want to let accident destroy any more of my life than it did, but I don’t think I can”

“Well, impossible sounds right about the task for us. We’ve got you”

Well fuck. That’s about that in not crying department.

[crowrrupt]

Porque te vas...

[arcanegifs]

Caitlyn and Vi in Legend of Runeterra's Path of Champions Mode

[ew-selfish-art]

Dpxdc Au - Tim and Danny are Twins, have been through all the introductions and after a few years decide to have The Audacity. 

At some point it hits the two of them, that they really do act alike sometimes. Like, mannerisms and small detail micro expressions, the whole nine, so Danny and Tim decide to take advantage of this.

Parent trap style swapping but all within the same household, they cut their hair and swap clothes, and get in a few practice runs around the halls of Wayne Manor. No one in the family catches them through at least 3 family dinners, so they go for the larger gambit. 

Tim wants to go to high school for a bit and get back into skate boarding with low stakes- Thats what he tells Danny at least, he really wants to spend the time dismantling the GIW from the epicenter in Amity Park. It works out that Tim accomplishes this in record time (explosives didn’t require ethics in his opinion) and does actually get to enjoy his hobbies again for a bit. 

Danny wants to tell off the WE board members and get some proper Red Robin training so he’s not so dependent on his powers when facing human enemies (they were squishier than ghosts, restraint was key)- That’s what he tells Tim when the reality is he’s going to lead a hostile takeover of DalvCo. and well, yeah, actually get some training in. 

No one catches on except for Kon. 

After they’ve swapped back and their missions are debriefed, Tim asks him why he never fell for it? Simply put: “Uh, dude. Your twin doesn’t have a heartbeat half the time, it was pretty easy to tell.” 

[jetii]

By Your Name

Part One

Pairing: Wrecker x fem!Reader / Wrecker x Jedi!Reader

Words: 7,998/19,226

Tags/Warnings: 18+ only! fluff, good-natured brotherly teasing, smut, this is mostly just smut actually, unprotected sex, fingering, oral (f receiving), size kink, aftercare, dirty talk, Wrecker being a sweetheart that is a given

Summary: You and Wrecker are still figuring out exactly what your relationship means, and a month apart hasn't helped. Now that you're reunited again, nothing is going to stand in the way of the two of you getting what you want.

A/N: Greetings from horny jail! I didn't proofread this one that much so if you see any mistakes no you didn't.

Previous Work | Next Work | Masterlist

Keeping your relationship with Wrecker a secret is easier said than done. There's no denying the spark between the two of you, and it only seemed to grow stronger in the days following your confession. To you, Wrecker is the sun, and you're a planet caught in his orbit, drawn in by his warmth and light. 

It's become increasingly difficult to keep things professional when all you want to do is pull him into a kiss, or spend every waking moment touching him in some way. Every time his fingers brush yours, or his hand finds the small of your back, the desire to kiss him, to hold him, to simply be with him is nearly overwhelming. And it's a feeling that only grows stronger the longer you're away from him.

Saying goodbye to Wrecker at the end of your tour with the Batch had been almost unbearable, and the distance has been agonizing. The weeks apart had dragged on, and the only solace you had was in the late-night calls and the occasional text. The longing had been a constant companion, and it had left you irritable and on edge.

But now, finally, the two of you will be reunited, and the excitement building in your chest is impossible to ignore. Even though it's been weeks since the two of you were last together, it feels like a lifetime, and you can't wait to be near him again. To feel his arms around you, his hands on your skin, his lips on yours.

The two of you had barely had enough time to figure out what exactly you are to each other before you left, and with the others around, there was little else you could do beyond a few stolen moments. But now, after weeks of anticipation and separation, you're finally getting the chance to explore things further.

And you know Wrecker is intent on making the most of the opportunity.

It was no secret that the man is incredibly tactile, and the fact that he'd been unable to touch you the way he wanted to, the way you both needed him to, had clearly taken a toll. His texts had grown progressively bolder, and the calls had lasted well into the night, and you'd spent hours on the comm with him, trying to keep your voice down while he told you everything he planned on doing to you once you were alone.

And now, you're on the same planet, finally, and the thought is enough to drive you crazy. You're already waiting in the hangar bay when the Marauder arrives, and the sight of it, the sight of him, sends a thrill of anticipation through you. The moment the ship touches down, the ramp lowers, and Wrecker comes barreling down, his arms outstretched.

"Hey, General!" he shouts. "Get ready, 'cause I'm gonna—"

You don't wait for him to finish. Instead, you throw yourself into his arms, and he catches you with ease, his arms wrapping around you, lifting you up off the ground. He spins you around, the two of you laughing and grinning like fools, and you're so happy you can barely breathe.

"Miss me?" you ask, breathless, your arms around his neck.

"Kriff, yeah," he says. "Wasn't the same without you."

"It wasn't the same for me, either," you murmur. "I didn't realize how much I would miss having you around."

"Me, neither," he replies.

He sets you down, but his arms stay locked around your waist, holding you close. The urge to kiss him is a physical ache, and the closeness is almost unbearable. But you can't, not here, not now, and so you settle for the feel of his arms around you, his hands stroking your back.

"I'm glad to see you," he says, his voice soft.

"I missed you, too," you reply, smiling up at him.

"I can't wait to show you how much I missed you," he whispers. The look in his eyes, the heat in his voice, sends a rush of desire through you, and you shiver. "Been thinkin' about it every day."

"Have you?"

"Yeah," he breathes. "And I've got a few ideas."

"Oh?" you ask, unable to keep the smile off your face. He's practically radiating energy, the excitement rolling off him in waves, and it's infectious.

Before he can respond, the sound of someone clearing their throat snaps you back to reality. The two of you turn, and you spot the others standing a short distance away at the end of the ramp. Crosshair and Tech look mildly amused, while Hunter looks vaguely uncomfortable, and Echo's expression is one of long-suffering annoyance.

"Uh, Wrecker," Hunter says, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. "You mind putting her down so we can go?"

"What?" Wrecker asks. "Oh. Yeah, yeah. Sorry."

He lets go of you, his hands trailing over your waist as he steps back. You brush your hands across your tunic, trying to quell the butterflies in your stomach, and Wrecker grins down at you.

"Sorry," you say, unable to keep the smile off your face. "It's been a while."

"Just save it for the ship,” Crosshair drawls as he passes by.

"Don’t worry, we will," Wrecker fires back, throwing an entirely unnecessary wink in his direction. Crosshair rolls his eyes, but the corner of his mouth quirks up. Tech follows, shaking his head with a small smile.

"I am glad that the two of you have reconciled your differences," he says, his eyes flicking to yours. "But please keep such displays of affection to a minimum in our presence.”

"Sorry, Tech.”

"We'll behave," Wrecker adds, but his tone is teasing.

"I doubt that," Echo mutters, but his eyes are crinkled at the corners. You flush, but can't help but return the smile. He's not wrong, after all.

"We'll try," you amend, and the others chuckle as they follow Crosshair out of the hangar toward the barracks. You and Wrecker walk a short distance behind them, keeping pace, and the silence is comfortable, the two of you walking shoulder to shoulder. He leans over and nudges your arm, and you glance up at him, catching the grin on his face.

You smile back, unable to hide your excitement, and the look in his eyes is almost enough to make your knees give out. You have no idea how you're going to get through the rest of the day, knowing that he's within arm's reach. Knowing that tonight, when the others have gone to sleep, the two of you will have the ship to yourselves. And the thoughts running through your mind are enough to have you squirming in place, eager for the day to end.

"Welcome back, by the way," you say, trying to ignore the flutter in your stomach.

"Glad to be back," Wrecker says. "And ready to start celebrating."

"Oh, is that what we're doing?" you tease.

"Mhm," he replies, his voice low and rough. "Gonna celebrate the kriff outta you."

You bite back a gasp, and your face heats up. You'd known Wrecker was forward, but the way he talks about wanting you, the way he openly stares at you, is still startling. No one has ever been so open with their feelings before, and while you're still getting used to the idea, it's nice. Reassuring. It's a reminder that this is real, that he wants you, and it's all you can do not to melt on the spot.

"Sounds like a good plan," you reply, your voice hoarse, and you resist the urge to fan yourself.

"Knew you'd see it my way," he says, and the look he gives you is enough to send a jolt of heat straight to your core.

The two of you continue on in comfortable silence, and you can't help but glance at him, taking in the sight of Wrecker finally back by your side. You can't deny that the past few weeks have been...frustrating. Being unable to be near him, or touch him, or even speak openly about how you feel has been agonizing. And the constant teasing and flirting via holo hasn't helped.

There are so many things you've wanted to say, to do, but haven't had the chance. Now, with the privacy and space, the temptation is nearly overwhelming. And the look on Wrecker's face tells you that he's thinking the same thing. You just need to get through the next couple hours without drawing too much attention, and then...

As expected, the celebration is a simple affair, a meal and a round or two of drinks at 79s. You've gotten used to the squad's traditions over the past year, and it's a relief to know that the evening won't drag on for hours. As it is, your patience is wearing thin, and you can tell that Wrecker feels the same.

"So," Hunter starts, his eyes fixed on the two of you. "Did you have a chance to talk about things while we were away?"

"Yeah, a bit," Wrecker says, shifting in his seat. His leg brushes against yours, and the contact sends a jolt of electricity up your spine. "Still workin' things out."

"I see," Hunter says. He takes a sip of his drink, his gaze flicking between the two of you, and he raises an eyebrow. "Just try not to make it too obvious, okay?"

"I'm not making any promises," Wrecker smirks, and the words are directed at his brother, but the way his eyes burn into you is unmistakable. You bite your lip, the heat on your cheeks nearly unbearable. The fact that he's so brazen, so shameless, is doing nothing to help your growing desire, and it's all you can do to keep a straight face.

"Wrecker, please," Echo groans, his eyes squeezed shut.

"Sorry, sorry," Wrecker chuckles, and his hand finds your thigh beneath the table, his fingers squeezing gently. You resist the urge to jump, trying to ignore the warmth of his palm seeping through the fabric of your pants. You can tell he's teasing, testing the boundaries, and the look on his face is almost smug. "I'll behave."

"No, you won't," Tech says, his eyes locked on his datapad. "But I suppose we will simply have to accept that this is your current reality."

"Guess so," Wrecker says, and the smile he gives you is blinding.

The rest of the meal is relatively uneventful, and the conversation is light, mostly centered around the mission, and what's to come. The Republic is preparing for another offensive, and you and the Batch have been assigned to gather intel on a possible Separatist stronghold in the Outer Rim. It's not an ideal mission, but it's better than sitting around doing nothing. And with Wrecker by your side, it will certainly be more bearable.

You listen as the others share stories, laughing and talking like they always do. Wrecker's hand stays on your thigh, his fingers tracing absentminded circles on your leg, and it's enough to keep you distracted, the anticipation growing with every passing minute. By the time the meal is finished, you're all but squirming in your seat, and you're desperate to get out of the crowded room.

"What about you?" Crosshair asks, and the sound of his voice pulls you back to the present. "Did you sit around doing nothing this whole time?"

"No," you reply. "I was training, mostly."

"Boring," Crosshair sneers, but his eyes are soft, and the look he gives you is teasing.

"I did manage to get a new scar, if that counts," you say, pointing to the healing cut above your eyebrow. "Had a run-in with a particularly unpleasant bounty hunter. She was faster than she looked."

"Ooh, lemme see," Wrecker says, and his hand finds your chin, tilting your face up. The gesture is casual, but the way his fingers stroke your cheek is not, and you shiver at the touch. He turns your face, his thumb brushing the healing skin, and the heat of his palm sears into your cheek. "Pretty nasty. You gonna live?"

"I think so," you manage, and his eyes sparkle with amusement.

"Good," he says. "Don't want anything happenin' to that pretty face of yours."

Someone makes a noise of protest, but you're too busy trying not to melt under Wrecker's gaze to notice who it was. His eyes flick over your features, his expression intense, and his fingers trail down the line of your jaw, coming to rest on your shoulder.

"Alright," Hunter cuts in. He slaps his hands on the table and stands, giving the two of you a pointed look. "Let's call it a night."

"But—"

"No buts," he says. "I can't watch this any longer."

Wrecker grumbles something under his breath, but he pulls his hand away, and the absence is nearly enough to make you whine.

"Fine," he huffs, rising from his seat. "See you all tomorrow."

You stand as well, your legs shaking. You're not sure how you're going to make it back to the ship, and the smirk on Wrecker's face tells you that he knows exactly what he's doing.

"Later," Crosshair says, his tone bored.

"Have a good night," Echo calls after you, his voice tight with discomfort. You glance back at him and offer an apologetic shrug, but he just waves you off. Tech is still buried in his datapad, oblivious, and Hunter gives you a long-suffering sigh as the two of you leave.

The walk back to the ship is agony. The sun has long since set, and the streets are dark, but the lights of the city are bright enough that it's not difficult to navigate. Still, the journey feels like an eternity, and every step sends a thrill of anticipation through your veins. You can feel Wrecker's presence behind you, his hand occasionally brushing against your back, his body close enough to touch.

"You're enjoying this, aren't you?" you ask as the two of you round the corner, putting some distance between yourselves and the others.

"Enjoying what?" he asks innocently.

"Teasing me," you reply, elbowing him in the side.

"Maybe a little," he grins, and the heat in his gaze makes you blush. "You know, it's hard not to be when you react like that."

"React like what?

"Like this," he murmurs, his hand sliding down your spine, coming to rest on the curve of your ass. His palm is hot and heavy, and the pressure is enough to make you gasp.

"I can't help it," you mutter, trying to ignore the desire that's pooling in your core.

"I know," he says, and his fingers squeeze, pulling you into his side. "And it's kriffing adorable."

"Shut up," you say, pushing against him. He laughs, the sound low and husky, and the way his eyes gleam in the dim light is more than a little distracting.

"Make me," he says, and his voice is teasing, but there's a note of challenge in it, and the implication sends a shiver down your spine. 

You turn to face him, and before you can second guess yourself, you reach out, taking hold of his armor and pulling him towards you.

Wrecker's lips meet yours in a searing kiss, and the force of it knocks the wind out of you. He backs you up against the wall, caging you in with his body, and his hands find your hips, lifting you up onto the tips of your toes. You moan against his mouth, and his tongue slips past your lips, his fingers digging into your flesh. The kiss is bruising, full of heat and want, and the way he moves against you, his body hard and solid, leaves you gasping for air.

He breaks the kiss, and his teeth nip at your lower lip, his hands wandering down, squeezing the swell of your ass. His breath is hot on your skin, his chest heaving, and the desire in his eyes is all-consuming.

"That shut you up," you whisper as his lips move down the column of your throat.

"Mhm," he mumbles. His tongue drags over the delicate skin, and you tilt your head back, giving him better access. "Keep doin' that, and I'll be quiet the rest of the night."

You laugh, the sound turning into a groan as his teeth sink into your flesh, biting down. His hands slide around to your back, pulling you flush against him, and his knee slips between your legs. The pressure against your core is enough to make you moan, and he chuckles against your skin.

"That's a dangerous game you're playing," you whisper, trying to catch your breath.

"Not the only one," he murmurs, his eyes finding yours. The hunger in his gaze makes your blood sing, and you swallow, trying to steady your pulse.

"True," you say, reaching up to cup his cheek. "But I'm not sure we should keep playing it. At least not until we get back to the ship."

He leans in and presses a gentle kiss to your lips, his tongue teasing the seam of your mouth. You open for him, and his hand comes up to cup the back of your head, holding you steady.

"Good point," he whispers as he pulls away, his nose brushing against yours.

"Come on," you say, and you nudge him backwards. Wrecker goes willingly, stumbling back a step, his eyes never leaving yours. "Let's go."

The two of you pick up the pace, and it's not long before you're making your way through the hangar bay towards the Marauder. There are a few people milling about the hangar, and a group of technicians working on a nearby ship, but none of them pay the two of you any attention as you approach the ramp.

The moment the door closes behind you, Wrecker pounces, pinning you against the wall, his mouth finding yours in a hungry kiss. You pull him closer, and he wraps his arms around you, lifting you up with ease. Your legs lock around his waist, and his hands slide down to grip the underside of your thighs, his fingers digging into the sensitive skin.

You break the kiss, your lungs screaming, and he moves down, pressing hot, wet kisses to the line of your throat. His mouth is warm and slick, his tongue leaving a burning trail along your collarbone. His hands find the hem of your shirt, and he pushes the fabric up, exposing your stomach.

"You really gonna keep quiet the rest of the night?" you ask, your voice hoarse.

"Do you want me to?" he murmurs, his nose brushing against the skin beneath your ear.

"Not particularly," you reply.

"Didn't think so," he says, and his teeth scrape against the shell of your ear, sending a shiver down your spine. "You wanna know what I think?"

"What?"

"I think you like it," he growls. His hands slip beneath your shirt, his palms sliding up the curve of your waist. "I think you like it when I tell you how pretty you are, or how much I want you."

"Maybe," you whisper.

"It's okay," he murmurs, his fingers dancing across your skin. "I like it, too."

You moan, the sound soft and needy, and he laughs, the vibrations tickling the sensitive spot below your ear. Wrecker's mouth finds yours again, his tongue plunging past your lips. He tastes like the liquor the two of you were drinking earlier, and the heady mixture is enough to make your head spin.

He breaks the kiss, and the next thing you know, he's carrying you down the hall, his pace hurried. Within a few steps, the two of you are falling onto the bunk, a tangle of limbs.

You land on top of him, straddling his waist, and Wrecker groans, his hands coming to rest on your hips. You grind down against him, the movement sending a rush of heat through your body. The contact is dizzying, and you do it again, relishing the way his eyes flutter closed.

"Kriff, cyare," he breathes.

"I thought I was cyar'ika," you murmur.

"Both. Either. Doesn't matter," he says, his hands slipping beneath the hem of your shirt.

"I think it matters" you say, leaning down and pressing a kiss to his lips.

"You really wanna talk about Mando'a right now?" he asks, and the amusement in his voice makes you laugh. You pull back enough to let him pull the shirt up and over your head, leaving you bare save for your breast band.

"I guess not. I'd rather do something else," you whisper, and Wrecker's eyes darken, his pupils dilating. His gaze trails over your chest, and his hands follow suit, tracing the line of your ribs.

"Me too," he murmurs. His fingers ghost across the band of fabric covering your breasts, teasing the edges. You give a slight nod, and he hooks a finger underneath the material, pulling it up and over your head.

Your breasts bounce free, and his eyes lock on them, his gaze burning. His hands slide up your sides, cupping the swell of flesh, his palms hot and rough.

"Mesh'la," he murmurs. He leans forward, his lips finding the slope of your shoulder. "So kriffing beautiful."

The praise makes you blush, and he kisses his way down the length of your chest, his lips trailing over the curve of your breast. You tilt your head back, closing your eyes as he licks a circle around your nipple, his tongue leaving a hot, wet trail.

"Wrecker," you whimper, and the sound seems to spur him on. His mouth finds your breast, his lips closing around the tight bud, his tongue swirling. You moan, the feeling electric, and he hums in response, his teeth grazing the sensitive flesh.

He sucks and bites at the stiff peak, his fingers rolling the other, and the twin sensations send a rush of heat through your body. It's almost too much, and you can't help but squirm, the desire pooling in your core. Wrecker’s armor presses against your thighs, the pressure almost painful, and the need to feel his skin on yours is overwhelming.

"Take it off," you pant, tugging at the shoulder plates.

"Bossy," he chuckles, and the sound sends a jolt of excitement through you.

"I think you like it," you say, throwing his own words back at him, and the wicked grin he gives you is all the answer you need.

"You're right," he replies. He reaches behind him, unclipping the pieces of his armor and setting them aside. The process is painstakingly slow, and you can't help but pout. But when you try to move his hands out of the way, he lifts you off his lap and sets you down on the mattress.

"Hey!"

"I'm going," he says, a grin on his face. "Don't worry."

Wrecker stands, and the sight of him towering above you, his broad frame blocking out the light, is enough to make you tremble. He strips off the pieces of armor with practiced efficiency, revealing the black undersuit beneath. You stare at him, your eyes roaming over the thickly corded muscles of his arms and chest, the taut fabric stretched across his abdomen.

"See somethin' you like?" he teases, and the sound of his voice draws you back to reality.

"Yes," you say, clearing your throat.

"Yeah?"

"Yes," you repeat with a smile.

"Good," he says. He kneels before you, his fingers finding the hem of your pants. He undoes the button, and you lift your hips, letting him slide the fabric down.

He takes a moment to admire you, his eyes trailing over the curves of your body. He hums in approval, his hand sliding up your leg, his fingers stroking the inside of your thigh.

"Beautiful," he murmurs.

You watch as his hand slips lower, and his thumb finds the edge of your underwear, the touch light and teasing. The sensation is enough to make you gasp, and he does it again, tracing a line along the seam. Your legs part instinctively, and his hand cups the apex of your thighs, his palm pressing against the damp fabric.

"You want more?" he asks, and the huskiness of his voice is enough to make you ache.

"Yes," you breathe.

He pulls the underwear off, and you lie back, spreading your legs, giving him a clear view of the most intimate parts of you. He groans at the sight, his eyes raking over the soft flesh, and his hands grip your knees, pushing them further apart. You feel exposed, but the look on his face is nothing short of reverent, and the desire in his eyes is enough to take your breath away.

"Mesh'la," he whispers, and then his head is between your legs, his tongue finding the sensitive flesh. The contact is electric, and you moan, the sound muffled by your fist. Wrecker chuckles, his eyes locking on yours as his mouth continues its work. His lips and tongue are soft and warm, and his fingers grip your hips, pulling you closer.

"Stars, Wrecker," you whimper, and he hums in response, the vibrations sending a jolt through your body. You gasp, and he smiles, his mouth never leaving the apex of your thighs. His tongue traces circles around the stiff bud, his fingers stroking the delicate skin.

You squirm under his ministrations, the sensation nearly overwhelming, and he holds you steady, his hands like steel. You grip the sheets, trying to ground yourself, but it's a futile effort. Wrecker is relentless, his mouth devouring every inch of flesh, his tongue probing, his teeth scraping, and the heat pooling in your belly threatens to consume you.

"Wrecker, I can't—"

He stops, pulling away with a wet smack. His face is glistening, his eyes burning, and the sight of him is enough to steal the words from your lips.

"Tell me," he growls, his hands tightening on your thighs.

"I can't—"

"Can't what, cyar’ika?" he murmurs, leaning in, his breath warm on the skin of your neck.

"Can't wait," you manage. "Please."

He laughs, his fingers stroking the sensitive flesh of your thighs. He presses a kiss to the side of your neck, and his hand slips between your legs, his fingers finding the apex of your folds. You groan, the contact almost too much to bear, and his fingers tease the edge, sliding along the slick skin.

"I'm gonna take my time with you," he says, his voice rough. "Gonna learn every inch of your body, every place that makes you feel good. And I'm gonna do it until you're a kriffing mess."

The words send a rush of heat through your body, and you can't help but arch into his touch, your hips rising off the bed. He grins, his fingers parting the slick folds, and you bite back a moan as he slides the digits along the length of the slit.

"So wet," he says, and the pride in his voice is obvious. "Mesh'la."

He leans down, his tongue darting out, tracing the same path his fingers had just followed. Wrecker takes his time, his mouth exploring every inch of the exposed flesh. By the time his tongue reaches the sensitive bud, you're trembling, the pleasure almost unbearable. His fingers press against your entrance, and you nod, giving him the go-ahead.

He slips a finger inside, and you clench around him, the feeling almost foreign. It’s been so long since you've done anything like this, and the stretch is unfamiliar, the sensation a strange combination of pleasure and discomfort. He moves slowly, his lips and tongue distracting you from the intrusion, and the discomfort fades, the pressure turning into a delicious fullness.

"You okay?" he asks, looking up at you, his lips still pressed against the apex of your thighs.

"Mhm," you reply, and you roll your hips, letting him know you're ready for more. He grins, and he presses another finger in, his tongue swirling around the stiff bud. The stretch is almost too much, and you gasp, the pleasure making your head spin.

Wrecker moves slowly, his fingers curling, probing, searching for that spot inside you. When he finds it, he rubs the tips against it, and the jolt of pleasure is enough to take your breath away.

"Fuck," you gasp.

"Yeah?" he asks, his eyes glinting with mischief.

"Yes," you whimper.

"More?"

"Yes, please," you beg. "Please."

He complies, his fingers pressing deeper, and you groan, the pleasure almost too much to bear. Your thighs shake, and he hooks his free arm around one of them, pulling you closer, his lips closing around the bud.

It doesn't take long before the heat coiling in your belly becomes too much to bear, and you can't hold back the moans spilling from your lips. Wrecker keeps up the pace, his fingers pumping, his mouth devouring, and it's only a few moments before the tension snaps.

You cry out, the sound swallowed by the bulkhead, and your thighs clamp around his head, trapping him. The air seems to ripple around you, the Force flowing through you, and the room fades, replaced by blinding white light. You're weightless, drifting in the current, the pleasure rippling through your body.

When you finally come down, the room has returned to normal, and the pressure of Wrecker's mouth is nearly too much. You push him away, and he looks up at you, a smirk on his face. His lips are wet and swollen, and his eyes are bright with lust.

"That was somethin' else," he murmurs, his voice hoarse.

"What did I do?" you ask, your voice shaking.

"Not sure," he replies. He presses a kiss to the inside of your thigh, his tongue darting out, licking away the remnants of your climax. "But I liked it."

"Oh," you manage.

"You good?"

"Yeah," you breathe. "Really good. Stars, Wrecker, that was...”

"Just the beginning," he says, his hands finding your waist and flipping you onto your stomach. He pulls you up onto your knees, and the next thing you know, his tongue is on your folds again, the sensation making your legs tremble.

"Wrecker, what—"

"Told you I'd take my time," he murmurs, and his fingers slip inside you again, the pace agonizing. You groan, burying your face in the pillow, trying to muffle the sounds spilling from your lips. His hand slides up your spine, his fingers tangling in your hair, pulling your head back. "I wanna hear you."

"I can't," you whimper.

"I'll stop if you don't," he threatens. "Wanna hear how good I'm makin' you feel."

"Fine," you groan. "Don't stop. Please."

"Good girl," he says, and the words send a rush of heat straight to your core. You feel yourself clamp down around his fingers, and his other hand grips the curve of your ass, squeezing hard. "Fuck, that's hot."

You moan, the sound loud and needy, and he rewards you by sliding another finger inside. The stretch is almost painful, but the pleasure is worth it, and the thought of him inside you, filling you, sends a thrill of excitement through your body. You can't help but push back against him, grinding your hips against his face.

"Look at you," he says, and the awe in his voice is enough to bring tears to your eyes. "Fuck, you're perfect. So fuckin' perfect."

His mouth returns to its work, his tongue licking and sucking and teasing. Your legs tremble, and his arm wraps around your waist, holding you up as his fingers plunge deeper. The pleasure is overwhelming, and the room seems to fade around you, the only thing remaining the feeling of his mouth on your sex.

You can't think, can't breathe, can't do anything except take whatever he gives you. And the thought, the knowledge that you're completely at his mercy, is intoxicating. You surrender to the feeling, allowing yourself to let go, and the release is almost instantaneous.

You cry out, the sound torn from your throat, and the force of it threatens to knock you over. But Wrecker is there, his arms steadying you, his mouth coaxing every last ounce of pleasure from you. When the waves of bliss finally subside, you slump forward, the mattress soft against your cheek.

"Holy shit," you mutter, unable to form a coherent thought.

"Yeah," Wrecker says, his hand stroking the length of your spine. He leans over you, his mouth finding the soft skin behind your ear. His tongue darts out, licking the shell, and his breath is hot on your neck. "Still with me?"

"Barely," you whisper, and the sound of his laugh sends a shiver through you. You roll over slowly to find his face inches from yours, his smile wide and wicked. You reach up, cupping his cheek, and the softness in his eyes is enough to melt your heart.

"Hi," he murmurs.

"Hey."

He leans in, pressing a gentle kiss to your lips. The tenderness is unexpected, and the taste of yourself on his mouth is more arousing than it has any right to be.

"I'm glad we're finally alone," he whispers, his nose brushing against yours. "Was about to explode."

"Mm," you reply. "Well, let's fix that."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah," you say, pushing him back. He sits up, and you move with him, swinging your leg over his waist. He watches you with hungry eyes, and the desire in his expression is enough to stoke the embers of your own. You can feel his cock straining against the fabric of his suit, the thickness hard and insistent, and the realization of just how badly he wants you is almost too much to bear.

You lean in, your mouth finding the side of his neck, and he groans, his hands coming up to rest on your hips. You nip and bite at the exposed flesh as your hands slip underneath the hem of his shirt, and you peel the fabric up, revealing his chest. He lifts his arms, and the two of you work together to pull the garment over his head, tossing it aside.

You run your hands over his broad chest, your fingers tracing the line of his muscles, his scars, his tattoos. The expanse of his skin is a map, a landscape, and you want to explore every inch. He sighs, his eyes closing, and the contentment in his expression is beautiful. You kiss him again, and he groans, his hand reaching up to cup the back of your head.

"I could kiss you forever," he murmurs.

"That would be nice," you reply, your lips moving down his throat.

"Mhm," he hums. "But right now, I really, really wanna fuck you."

The words send a shiver of desire through you, and you pull back, giving him a smirk. You slide back, and his hands move to the closure of his suit, undoing the catches with ease. The fabric parts, revealing the thick shaft beneath. The head is dark and swollen, and a drop of precome glistens at the tip.

"Kriff," you breathe. "You're—"

"Big?" he says, grinning.

You swallow, nodding. You've felt him through his clothes, the evidence of his desire more than clear, but the reality is something else entirely. He's larger than any partner you've ever had, and the thought of taking him, of feeling him inside you, is both terrifying and exhilarating.

"That's putting it mildly."

"We can wait," he offers, his hands finding your hips, his fingers stroking the sensitive skin. "Or take things slow. We don't have to do anything you're not ready for."

"I appreciate that," you say. "But I really, really want this."

"Yeah?"

"Yes."

He smiles, and his hand slips between your thighs, his fingers finding the slick skin. You gasp at the touch, rising up on your knees to pull his blacks down further. His cock springs free, the length curving up against his belly. He helps you pull the rest of the suit off, leaving the two of you bare before each other.

He sits up, his eyes raking over the planes of your body, his gaze hungry and possessive. He pulls you towards him, and you wrap your arms around his shoulders, his mouth finding yours. His hands slide down your spine, cupping the swell of your ass, his fingers digging into the soft flesh.

"You sure about this?" he asks, his lips moving against yours.

"Very," you reply. You reach between the two of you, your fingers wrapping around his length. He groans, his head falling back, and his hips twitch, pushing into your grasp. Your fingers don't quite meet, the thickness impossible to fully encircle, and the size of him is daunting.

"You can change your mind," he says, and the words are choked, strained. "Just say the word."

"I won't," you say. "Trust me."

"Okay," he breathes, and the faith in his voice is enough to take your breath away. He leans back, and you raise yourself up on your knees, positioning him at your entrance. You take a deep breath, and then begin to lower yourself onto him. The head presses against the tight ring of muscle the sensation almost foreign. You press down, and the tip slips inside, the thickness stretching you.

"Shit," he mutters, his fingers gripping your hips. "Fuck, cyar'ika, you're so—"

The words turn into a loud, unrestrained groan as you sink down, taking him inch by inch. It takes time, the fullness overwhelming, but you persevere, the feeling of him inside you more intense than anything you've ever felt. The way his length fills you, stretching and stretching, the slight pain, the ache, the feeling of being whole, it's enough to drive all thoughts from your mind.

By the time Wrecker is nearly fully seated inside you, the both of you are trembling. He's panting, his eyes squeezed shut, his chest rising and falling in rapid breaths. You watch him, the sight of his reaction sending a rush of excitement through your body. It's the first time you've seen him lose control, and the knowledge that it's you, that you're the cause, is exhilarating.

You shift in his lap, grinding down on his cock, and he hisses, his teeth clenched. The pressure against the walls of your cunt is almost too much to bear, and it takes everything you have not to collapse. You lift yourself up slightly, testing the limits, and his grip on your hips tightens.

“Stay still,” he growls, and the command in his voice sends a thrill through you. “Don’t move.”

"Or what?" you ask.

Wrecker opens his eyes, his gaze burning into you. There's a dangerous glint there, and the promise in his expression is almost too much to take. You swallow, unable to look away. He smirks, and his hand comes up, his fingers wrapping around the back of your neck, holding you steady.

"Or I'm gonna have to fuck you into the kriffing mattress," he says, his voice rough. "You think you can handle that?"

"Maybe," you reply, and the confidence in your voice is surprising.

"Really?" he says. He shifts, his hips lifting off the mattress, and the movement pushes him deeper. The stretch is almost too much, but the sensation is exquisite, and the moan that escapes your lips is unabashedly desperate. "Sounds like you can't."

"I'm not convinced," you say, and the words come out more as a whine than a statement. Wrecker laughs, his lips curling into a smug smile. The expression should annoy you, but instead, it only adds to the heat pooling in your core. You like seeing him like this, confident and commanding, and the thought of letting him have his way with you is more than a little arousing.

"You're adorable," he says, and he tilts his head forward, his lips meeting yours in a searing kiss. You wrap your arms around him, and he pulls you closer, his other hand sliding down to the small of your back. The pressure is intoxicating, and you can't help but squirm, trying to find purchase. But he holds you steady, his mouth devouring yours.

He lifts you up, his hands gripping the curve of your ass, and his cock nearly slips out, the sudden emptiness jarring. But before you can complain, he's lowering you back down, sheathing himself inside you again.

"Oh," you whimper.

"Yeah," he murmurs. "You feel so good."

He lifts you again, and his pace is achingly slow, the movement careful, controlled. He's clearly holding back, and the knowledge that he's doing it for your benefit sends a rush of affection through you. You cup his face in your hands, pressing a kiss to his forehead.

"Wrecker," you say. "Please."

"You sure?"

"Yes," you hiss, your head tilting back as he slides home. "Please, I want—"

"Tell me what you want," he growls.

"You," you say, and the confession is more difficult than it should be. "All of you. Hard and fast and— Fuck!"

The breath leaves your lungs as he flips the two of you, his weight pinning you against the mattress. He slides a hand beneath your hips, tilting them up, and his lips find the curve of your neck, his teeth scraping against the sensitive skin.

"Don't say I didn't warn ya," he growls, and then his hips snap, driving him into you. The movement is quick and powerful, and the impact reverberates through your entire body. The thrust is accompanied by a wave of pleasure, the feeling intense and all-consuming, and it takes everything you have to hold on.

"Holy shit," you mutter, your eyes squeezing shut.

"You good?" he murmurs, his hands finding yours, his fingers intertwining with your own.

"So good," you whimper. You wrap your legs around his waist, trying to anchor yourself, but the motion seems to have the opposite effect. The slight shift in position is all the invitation he needs, and he drives into you again, the force enough to push you up the bed. The pleasure is almost blinding, and the room blurs, the edges of your vision darkening.

"More," you beg, the word torn from your throat.

"Anything," he breathes, and then his mouth finds yours, swallowing the moan that spills from your lips. His hips set a relentless rhythm, his cock pounding into you, the friction delicious. You wrap your arms around him, pulling him closer, and his mouth never leaves yours, his tongue plunging past your teeth. The taste of him, the smell of him, it's enough to send you reeling, and the world around you fades, replaced by a single, searing point of pleasure.

You lose yourself in the moment, the feeling of his body pressed against yours, the warmth and strength and power of him. He surrounds you, engulfs you, consumes you, and the intimacy of the act, the connection between the two of you, it's unlike anything you've ever felt. The sensation is overwhelming, and you're powerless to do anything except take whatever he gives you. You let go, surrendering yourself completely, and the feeling is almost euphoric.

"You feel so fuckin' good," Wrecker pants, and the words seem to echo, his voice distant. "Can't believe you're—fuck, cyar'ika, you're perfect."

The praise spurs you on, and the next thing you know, Wrecker is kneeling before you, pulling you towards him. His hands grip your waist, his fingers digging into the sensitive flesh, and his cock plunges deeper. You cry out, the sound echoing around the room, and he groans in response, his movements becoming erratic.

"Fuck," he grunts. His hands slide down, cupping the curve of your ass, and he lifts you off the mattress, impaling you on his cock. The angle is intense, and you can feel the tension coiling in your belly, the pressure threatening to burst.

"I'm close," you gasp, and he nods, his face twisted with pleasure. He's lost control, the steady rhythm giving way to desperate, frantic thrusts, and the knowledge that he's close to coming undone is intoxicating.

"Touch yourself," he manages. "Come on, cyar'ika, wanna feel you come on my cock."

You do as he says, reaching down and sliding your fingers through the wetness between your legs. The contact is enough to push you over the edge, and you come hard, the orgasm tearing through you. The room goes dark, the pleasure nearly blinding, and the air seems to vibrate, the Force surging through you. You can't breathe, can't think, can't do anything except let it wash over you.

You feel yourself clamp down around Wrecker's cock, the walls of your cunt spasming, and he gasps, the sound raw and primal. He thrusts once, twice, and then his hips stutter, and he drives himself deep, the force of his climax making the bed shake. You feel his cock pulse inside you, filling you, and the warmth of his seed sends another wave of pleasure rippling through your body.

It seems to go on forever, the two of you riding out the aftershocks. You're trembling, and tears are spilling down your cheeks, but you can't bring yourself to care. You pull him close, your mouth finding his, and the kiss is sloppy, needy, the two of you too far gone to do anything except cling to each other.

When it's over, Wrecker rolls the two of you over, pulling you into his arms. His chest is rising and falling in rapid breaths, and his heart is pounding, the beat so loud you can hear it. You rest your head on his shoulder, your arm draped across his chest, and he pulls you closer, his nose buried in the top of your head.

"Holy shit," he breathes.

"That good, huh?"

"Good doesn't even cover it," he says. "Stars, that was...fuck, cyar'ika, that was somethin' else."

"I'll take that as a compliment."

"You should," he murmurs. "Fuck."

You laugh, the sound muffled by his skin. He chuckles in response, and his hand strokes your back, his fingers tracing circles on your spine. You sigh, the touch soothing, and you close your eyes, letting the tension leave your body. You're exhausted, and the thought of moving is nearly unbearable. You’re more content than you can remember being in a long, long time.

"Don't fall asleep," he says. "Not yet."

"Too late," you murmur, the words slurred.

"Hey," he says, and his tone is gentle, teasing. "At least let me get a towel or something."

"Fine," you grumble.

He laughs, and the bed shifts as he gets up, the loss of his body heat jarring. You shiver, curling into yourself, and the next thing you know, he's pressing a damp cloth between your legs. The contact is enough to wake you up, and the realization of what's happening is both embarrassing and endearing.

"Wrecker," you say, pushing his hand away. "I can do that."

"Sorry," he mutters. "Should've asked."

"It's okay," you say, and the sincerity in your voice seems to reassure him. "I just don't want you doing all the work."

"I don't mind," he says, leaning down and pressing a kiss to the corner of your mouth. "I like takin' care of you."

"And I like taking care of you," you reply. "Which is why I want you to come back to bed."

"Okay, okay," he says, smiling. He tosses the towel aside, and the bed dips as he climbs in next to you, his body pressed flush against yours. The feel of his skin on yours is soothing, and you can't help but melt into his touch. He's solid and warm and real, and the knowledge that he's here, that he wants you, is more comforting than anything else.

"Mesh'la," he whispers.

"Hmm?"

"I love you."

You turn, burying your face in the crook of his neck. His arms wrap around you, his body enveloping yours, and the words come easily.

"I love you, too."

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[leier-coyol]

Ruby basarios sneak peek

[snarkspawn]

drew these during the simulanka event

[its-flame-art]

“wait a minute. wait a minute, Doc. ah... are you telling me that you built a time machine...out of a DeLorean?”

[hoiststowline]

_sunstreaker x reader

one | two | three

“I thought you were busy all week?” 

such a persistent caller left you heavily confused, mostly after glancing at the caller ID while attempting to carefully balance an armful of groceries. ungracefully, you pick up the call, knowing if you ignored it any longer you’d be dealing with rapidly dwindling patience and then some.

trying to muster a more lighthearted follow-up, you add: “Not that I’m not happy to hear from you, but you always somehow know to call at the worst time.” 

as if almost on cue, Sunstreaker scoffs on the other end, never one to be so easily troubled by your sarcasm. “What a greeting. Even worse, you say that all the time, y/n. It’s getting annoyingly old.” 

“Sorry, I’m sorry. Hello, Sunstreaker.” you present an amused laugh after it, displaying a jesting tone whilst backtracking. “May I ask why are you suddenly able to call when you spent an hour telling me not to this week?” 

upon reaching the door, you fumble around for your keys whilst propping your phone between your shoulder and ear. though you weren’t expecting an elaborate explanation, it was fair to question such an unexpected appearance. you always missed him when he was away, finding it was becoming increasingly difficult to watch him go, after being accustomed to each other’s company for so long. this time around, you actually had forewarning, knowing he was to be gone for an unknown timetable, so the blow was a little softer. 

not by much, but you planned to withhold such sentiments until his arrival back, if only to make it a little easier on yourself. 

“Don’t worry about it.” translates into something a little grander than his vague explanation, but you’d set that aside for the moment. any venture to try and pry it out of him, especially over the phone would lead nowhere, and only leave an agitated Sunstreaker in its wake. 

“Consider it not to be worried about.” you return, finally finding your key in your back pocket. “So, what’s up?”

“What are you doing?” without leaving room for a response, he adds on to his question rather quickly, ill at ease. “Right now.” 

“Trying to put my groceries away, one second.” once inside, your phone and keys land on the counter, then pivot to set the bags on the table. with both hands free, you switch the call to speakerphone to respond to his inquiry, delighted to possibly spend some time together. “Is there a reason, or just wondering?”

A grumble of frustration follows close behind your investigation, finally settling on: “Oh, what’s the term you use?”

curious, your head tilts to the side. not quite sure what he means given the zero context, you go to ask for more when he evidently remembers. 

“I’m on house arrest, and I’m bored.” 

your brow raises at the reasoning, unsure what to do with such delicate information. mostly because that’s seemingly all he’s going to provide, awaiting your reaction to his admission of wrongdoing. clearly, he had to have done something of offense, to be unable to leave the base and not allowed on the mission he had been originally tasked with. 

“Can I ask-” 

“No.” it's far too curt, scaring you somewhat that he knew what the next thing out of your mouth was. 

treading carefully, you try again. “Okay. I can try to be over soon.”

“Soon?” Sunstreaker complains, seemingly displeased with your proposed compromise.

in a sing-song voice, you gently toe the line of poking fun. “Take it or leave it.” 

“You’re so lucky that I can’t leave, or else I’d be outside already.” his agitation lingers moderately, even before your teasing, so clearly whatever or whoever put him on house arrest had done the deed of pissing him off. “Hurry up.” 

without intending to, you wore his restraint down to the very last ounce, hardly a hello as he asks what took you so long upon arriving. 

“You and consequences really don’t get along.” you hum, watching with vivid levity as he throws his hands up, either in exasperation or defeat. 

“Has anyone ever gotten along with consequences?” Sunstreaker seethes, looking over his shoulder your way. “I was going crazy here by myself, I wasn’t looking for a lecture from you either.” 

feeling a twinge of guilt, you hastily reply. “Sorry. I didn’t-” 

“I know.” and he means it, striving to come across as sincere.

trying to evade an approaching awkward silence, you try to change the subject swiftly. “You’re here by yourself? I didn’t think that was possible.”

“What do you mean?” he now turns in full, looking down to meet your gaze, confusion apparent.

“Every time I’ve been here, it’s been busy.” you hum, observing the empty command center. “Not that I’m here a lot. What, is this the third time?”

“Fourth.” he winces to himself, knowing he answered that far too quickly to appear casual. “And you’ve only just realized that? This ship is so small, it makes it feel so crowded all the time.” Sunstreaker deadpans, beginning down the hallway, a path you were only somewhat familiar with. 

“Is that why you like creeping around my house at four in the morning?”

Sunstreaker jolts, his shoulders jumping to his helm as he nearly stumbles in surprise. “You’re still on about that? I was telling the truth, you’re so annoying.”

“I just happened to put two and two together,” you hum, trying to fall in stride beside him but failing miserably. “I knew there was a reason you liked hanging around my place, I just had to figure it out.” 

though still entirely too inquisitive to the reason why Sunstreaker was put in whatever the cybertronian equivalent of time-out is, you were satiated in keeping him company. you could understand his frustration, whether or not the punishment was deserved, and it wasn’t very often that Sunstreaker asked something of you. 

he strong armed his way into a lot of things, finding himself in situations that he’d rather forget than try to reason and sift through. for someone who at first was disgruntled with your untimely friendship, Sunstreaker really did enjoy doing as much as a twenty-something foot tall mech could do for you. it was just as he had said earlier, he was going crazy here by himself. 

in a roundabout way, he was asking you to join his company after a survey of the situation, finding that he never had the place to himself and didn’t know what to do with such a circumstance. 

at first, it was mildly irksome to discover that he really never asked for what he truly wanted, coming to find that a lot of what he says has a double meaning. perhaps that’s why he always found himself in trouble, because others hadn’t taken the time to delve a little deeper into his mannerisms, taking everything at face value. maybe that’s why the both of you became fast friends, because you were willing to take a step back and analyze his words, not immediately vexed at his talking in circles. 

Sunstreaker hardly requested anything of you, so such a small plea could never be turned down. 

“Yeah, well, me and my big mouth.” 

in turn, you falter, stopping short to try and figure that one out. Sunstreaker doesn’t give you the time to do so, continuing forward towards his quarters and promptly leaving you behind. 

“What?” you press, scrambling after him. “Did you get in trouble the other night?” 

he laughs dryly, suddenly unable to look your way at all. “Trouble? No.” 

“You’re lying.” 

he freezes, promptly trying to assure himself it’s because he’s now in front of his berthroom door, but his subconscious reveals the truth to him without being cued.

“Says who?” he counters, punching in his code a little too aggressively. “You don’t know what goes on here.” 

“You’re right.” those words he doesn’t hear regularly, if at all. Sunstreaker can’t even recall the last time someone agreed with him, even if over something so trivial. 

“I don’t know what goes on here, but I do know when you’re lying. You always have that weird laugh when you do.” 

finally, he moves to meet your eyes. “Weird?” 

you shouldn’t be surprised that’s what he decided to take from your observation. 

the exterior door panel moves over in one fluid motion but neither of you make any move to enter, standing eerily still in the chilly hallway. 

“Please don’t- just, don’t get in any more trouble. Especially if it’s technically my fault.” 

“Your fault?” Sunstreaker snuffs, waving a servo dismissively. “No, it’s not. And who’s to say I wanted to go on that stupid mission anyways. Maybe this was my plan all along.” 

with a small smile, you effortlessly repay his teasing. “I don’t think so.”

“Whatever,” stepping to the side, he gestures you inside with a subpar and unenthusiastic motion. “I don’t have to convince you. It’s a miracle you even came when I asked.” 

“Why is that a miracle?” 

entering the room, you walk about halfway inside before turning around to face him, tilting your head backward. “I wanted to come.” 

following right behind you, Sunstreaker falters to reply, uncertain of what such a loaded statement could mean.slowly, he moves his helm toward you, peering down your way with a facade of confusion. “You did?”

you shrug, trying to fight the tightness that arrives in your chest upon catching the way he looks at you. “Of course I did. That’s what friends do.” 

right. friends.

[xelys-xlys]

Pacster 2.0 idk Anatomy chubby Ready to eat :3