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#WHAT IS HE WEARING??? IS HE WET? time to leave this planet
dumbfilmschoolkid · 2 years
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David Tennant filming the 60th anniversary special episode of Doctor Who in Camden
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luveline · 4 months
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You are such an awesome writer 🥹 I love seeing you show up on my timeline!
I'm not sure if you are taking requests rn and totally ignore this and I'm so sorry if you are not and sorry to bug you.
I am so obsessed with bombshell bau reader with our boy Spence. I was thinking like maybe established relationship this time where the team goes out to the bar again only this time her and Spence are actually together so she's just really cute and even more cling. Maybe her and Emily or one of/all of the other BAU girls are being wild goofy drunk girl and reader is extra flirty with Spence but not at all smooth and Spencer is just like “you're a menace” ? But like in a sweet adoring way 😂?
Again no pressure at all and I hope you are feeling better from the rude requests and enjoying your time off school, lots of love xxx
thank you love, and thanks for your request!! ♡ drunk!reader
The last time you'd been to this bar in particular, you and Spencer were strictly friends. He was still styling his hair straight and wearing sweater vests, and the idea of being your boyfriend was a fantasy. A brilliant, never-going-to-happen work of fiction. 
“My boyfriend is the prettiest man alive ever in the history of planet Earth!” you declare, climbing up on one knee in the booth beside him, your cherry spritzer tipping over the glass’ rim. It races down your naked arm to your elbow and drips from there to his thigh. “Have you seen him?” 
“Sure, I've seen him,” Morgan says, rolling his eyes. 
You wrap your arms around Spencer's head from the side and kiss his forehead. You shift as you do, forcing your lips up into his hair, leaving behind an accidental raspberry smear of lipgloss. “Then what's the problem?” you ask. 
“I don't know,” Morgan says. 
“I know what it is,” Emily says. 
“Me too. Rhymes with indoctrination,” JJ laughs. 
You put your glass down hard on the table, arm still held proudly behind Spencer's neck. A lot has changed since the last time you were here, but the way he looks up at you hasn't budged. He has a sick, all encompassing crush on you, and seeing you now turns it into a dizziness he can't shake, almost like he's had a few too many drinks with you. Your eyes are glassy, grounded but wet, and your eyelashes pinch together in the corners as you bring your gaze down to his. “It's love,” you say. 
Everybody laughs. Spencer just keeps watching you watch him, his palm to the small of your back to prevent a fall. 
“It's love!” Penelope echoes, shepherded by Hotch, too many drinks between them both. “My favourite lovebirds! I brought your drink, beautiful.”
“Thank you, gorgeous.” You take it eagerly. Spritzer sloshes over the bumps of your fingers. 
“Sit down,” Spencer suggests. 
You give him brief googly eyes and sit down. The booth is a three sided square, with you and Spencer on one arm, Rossi, JJ and Emily against the back, and now Morgan, Penelope and Hotch opposite. It's a full troupe tonight, a rarity, and you and Penelope decided early on that the best way to celebrate would be to drink whatever you liked and in egregious quantities. 
Hotch is perhaps doing the same. Spencer can't tell. But all in all, everyone's having a good night, especially you. 
“Did you hear that? He's so nice to me,” you say to no one in particular, your fitted blouse sparkling in the light as you lean back, your hand finding his thigh. “Spencer, what's on your pants?” 
“Oh, I wonder?” 
“You're not blaming me, are you?” Your voice is as stickying as you can make it, and drunk as a skunk you may be, but you maintain your talent for flirting. 
“Did I say that?” 
“Because that wouldn't be very, gentlemanly of you…” You lean in too close. Your talent remains. Your subtlety suffers a different fate. 
He leans in like he might kiss you and says, “You're a menace.” 
“What's that supposed to mean?” 
In front of all your friends and coworkers. “It means I'm cutting you off,” he says, sliding his hand between you and your glass. 
More laughter. You throw hurt looks at them all and Spencer picks up your cherry spritzer. You're baffled, but a smile dripping in sickly sweet love spreads over your lips as he drinks it. “Fine, I'll share,” you say. 
“Thank you,” he says, putting it out of your reach as he leans in to kiss you, cherry lingering on his lips. 
You kiss him back gently, and then a little harder. He eases you away. Arms snuck once again around him, you squeeze until his ribs cry out in protest and make yourself comfortable on his shoulder.
“You're not mad at me, are you?” he asks, head angled down to offer a tender smile. 
“I love you so much I've decided not to care.” You lift your head. “You're too nice to be mad at you,” you whisper. “And I love you.” 
“Yeah, you've mentioned that.” He rubs your arm. He's so in love with you, he doesn't think to blush at his part in your PDA. 
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jymwahuwu · 4 months
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imagine jing yuan hypnotized assistant!darling into believing that she should always go to work without panties... that it's perfectly fine for her to lift up her skirt and show him her fat pussy lips and her cute clitoris..... her job is to stand next to him or sit on his lap, looking all pretty while he playing with her wet folds, cockwarming him.....pumping her full of his seed..... until months llate, when he sees a tiny baby bump on her belly, jing yuan knows the hypnosis is no longer needed 🤤🤤
ignore this if it makes you uncomfortable! :D
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-CW: yandere, dub-con/non-con, hypnosis, forced pregnancy
🤤Hypnosis… To add to the drama, you, as the Assistant to the Seat of Divine Foresight, have the honor of working for General Jing Yuan. You never noticed someone's burning gaze on you as you sorted papers and typed, but you did notice the gentle touch of a hand on your waist.
You have rejected the general's confession more than once. Jing Yuan still maintains his tranquility, smiles calmly, crosses his arms and listens to your reasons ("Just want to work", "General, you are very nice but not suitable for me" and other reasons).
What you don't know is that the only reason Jing Yuan didn't put you on the table and penetrate you was - some fantasy about being a little assistant. Pulling down your underwear directly is, of course, fine and feasible, but… what if you pull down your underwear yourself? This conflicts with your will and reason. Jing Yuan knows. He was thinking of a way. At that time, Penacony's advertisement appeared in front of him. Penacony is a planet known throughout the universe for its reputation for vacations and festivals.
Some dormant memories were awakened. Jing Yuan remembers - there is a technology on that planet that is recognized as safe but dangerous. The danger is…the technique of hypnosis is no longer something that appears in dreams and dramas. This technique can hypnotize the other person into living a normal life, but impose certain "unusual" rules on them, confusing their perception of normality and abnormality.
What if…applied to you?
Alas, I was almost late. Luckily I remembered not wearing underwear. This is rude.
You patted your chest gently and breathed in oxygen, your legs going weak. [General Jing Yuan] smiled and ordered you, "It's time to check your clothing and appearance." "Y-yes, General."
Without any mental burden, you pulled up your plain, black work skirt for him to check. There is no covering, you are naked, and your pubic hair has even been shaved according to the "work instructions". "Um, good. Next." You used your hands to spread your slightly thick labia as usual, revealing the most private and charming view inside, which caused a rumble of laughter in someone's chest. "come over."
You complied, muttering about how today's daily check-up was completed so quickly. You usually have to show it for at least ten minutes… your butt is sitting on his lap, like an obedient and beautiful bird. And his fingertips stroked your wet flesh, rubbing and swirling the little pearl, leaving water stains on his fingertips. After [Jing Yuan] told you that your breasts were also on display, you unbuttoned your conservative shirt and took off your bra without any hesitation.
Of course, you haven't forgotten the important rules of reproduction! Don't forget to rock yourself as that cock spreads your tight, twitching vagina and spreads your thighs. Although occasionally pleasure controls your brain like an electric shock, and you can't help but be afraid of the possibility of pregnancy, you should not deliberately allow his seeds to flow. This is not only basic professional ethics, but also your commitment to [Jing Yuan].
After multiple reproductions, signs of pregnancy appear. Jing Yuan released the control of hypnosis, and you were shocked to discover the changes in your body and sobbed, but don't forget that you are his assistant and future wife 💖
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beskarandblasters · 6 months
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Tell me how it’s lookin’, babe
Din Djarin x F!Reader
Main Masterlist | Din Djarin Masterlist
Author’s note: Thank you to @planet-marz1 for sending the discord this image because that’s what inspired all this 😵‍💫 Gifs are by @bestintheparsec and banners + dividers are by @saradika 🖤
Summary: You see Din in just his flight suit and don’t know how to act.
Word count: 1.5k
Warnings: reader is able-bodied, canon divergent, helmet stays on, porn with little plot, pet names (cyar’ika for you, baby for Din), tattooed!Din, shy!Din, uncircumcised!Din, body worship, oral sex (M receiving), vaginal sex, unprotected sex, creampie, half ass editing 😔, no use of y/n
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It’s been another long, exhausting day. All you can think about is peeling your clothes off your sweaty body and crawling into Din’s bunk… And dumping the sand out of your boots. Maker, you really don’t care for Tatooine.
The walk across the desert is laborious, but soon enough the Razor Crest appears in the distance, like a mirage before your eyes. You pick up the pace, anxious to feel some air conditioning already. Before you know it Din’s lowering the exit ramp and you’re back inside the cool metal interior of the Crest. You slip off your boots and leave them by the door before heading to the bunk. You don’t hesitate to shed layers of clothes as you walk, tossing them into a pile on the floor at the foot of the cot. It’s nothing new for Din, he’s seen you naked countless times now. But you look over at him, leaning in the door frame by the bunk, and covered in layer after layer…
“You’re not… hot?” you ask him.
“…What do you mean?”
“Like sweaty, Din.”
“Oh… Yes.”
“You don’t ever wanna take all that off? Not the helmet of course. But even just the armor?”
“I guess I could.”
“Only if you’re comfortable,” you reassure him, taking a step closer to him and placing your hand on the hollow part of his helmet. He rests his hand on top of yours and says, “I am.”
You nod, looking deep into the T-shaped visor and take a step back so he can start to remove his armor, his weapons, and his cape. It’s methodical and meticulous the way he does it, each piece carefully removed and placed into a small pile on the floor.
And now he’s standing before you, wearing only his boots and his flight suit. He looks hot in his armor, there’s no question about that. But now that he’s just in his flight suit you can see his form so much better; his biceps, his chest, his thighs, everything. You’re fully staring at him, mouth agape and eyes full of lust and admiration. He’s all yours.
“Cyar’ika?” he says, breaking your trance.
“Hm?”
“What are you looking at?”
“You.”
You hear his breath hitch under the helmet. You take a step closer again and run your hands along the fabric of the flight suit. His visor follows the movement of your hand, running along his chest and down his arms. You look down and there’s a bulge growing in his flight suit.
“How do I look?” he says softly.
“So kriffing good, Din.”
“Really?”
“Of course you do,” you respond, moving your hand down to his groin. He lets out a strained “cyar’ika” as you palm his cock over his flight suit.
“Feel like shedding another layer?” you ask with a grin.
“You want to see me like that?”
“Baby, I’ve been dreaming about it.”
“You mean that?”
“Mhm,” you say, feeling the wetness grow between your legs.
“I guess I could take it off.”
“Only if you want to,” you reassure him, meeting his gaze again.
“I’m sure,” he says with a small nod.
He takes off his gloves, tossing them by the pile of beskar the corner before slipping off his boots. You follow the movement of his hands, realizing this is the first of his skin you’re seeing other than his cock. His hands are calloused, peppered with small scars from years of training, fighting, and bounty hunting.
And now it’s time for the flight suit to come off. He takes a deep breath and unzips it, stepping out of it and again tossing it by the pile of armor in the corner. His cock springs free as he releases it from the fabric, hard and sticking straight out. His whole figure is broad, his limbs toned and muscular. There’s more scars like the ones on his hands. Some are smaller and paler in color. Some are deeper, their edges more irregular. He’s got some beauty marks as well, each of them scattered about in his chest and arms, down to his legs. On his left bicep he has a tattoo, a simple black ring encircling his upper arm. It suits him well. He’s just beautiful, every feature of his telling a part of his history. And you’d like to know more.
You’ve had thoughts in the past that seeing Din completely naked with just his helmet on might be a weird sight, but now that it’s here in front of you it just feels right; a sliver of intimacy you and only you will ever know, even if you can’t see his face.
“Din… you’re beautiful,” you say, hands immediately gravitating to his sides.
“You don’t mean that.”
“Oh but I do,” you say, one hand roaming up his torso and to his chest, while the other moves down to his cock.
He says nothing, his visor fixed on your hand stroking his cock.
“Let me show you,” you say softly.
You sink to your knees and kiss along his groin. He lets out a soft groan every time you inch closer to his cock. You bring a hand to his balls and cup them lightly before finally swirling your tongue around the head of his cock, sliding it underneath the foreskin to draw a sharper moan from him. He curses under his breath and runs a hand through your hair, desperate for more.
And finally, you give it to him, taking his length in your mouth. The grip on your hair tightens as you bob your head up and down, all while you’re still cupping his balls. You look up at him, making eye contact with his visor as you suck him off. All of a sudden his balls tighten up in your hand and his cock twitches in your mouth. He’s going to cum soon but you’re not ready for that just yet. You pull your mouth away much to his chagrin as he lets out a soft whimper when you do.
“On the cot, baby,” you say, wiping the drool dripping from your chin.
He lies down on the cot and you move to straddle him, his cock glistening with his pre cum and your spit resting by your cunt. He brings a hand to your entrance, stroking it up and down with his fingers and spreading around your wetness. His fingers circle around your clit, working you up and making you more anxious to sit on it already. And eventually, you just can’t take it anymore.
You move his hand away, pinning it up by his helmet while you inch forward and sink down onto his cock. You’ve ridden him before but now you get to rest his hands on his bare chest for once. And you do, the warmth of his skin radiating against your palms as you rock your hips back and forth. His hands move to your waist, giving the skin a soft squeeze while you drive his cock deeper inside you.
“Kriff, cyar’ika,” he curses, coming out as a moan.
“Mmm, you feel so good. Kriff, you look so good, Din,” you respond, tears stinging your vision as you look into his visor. It’s hard to stay fixed on his visor for long, though. Your eyes want to roam his body. They keep gravitating towards the tattoo on his bicep.
“And when did you get this?” you ask, fingers grazing the tattooed skin.
“A long time ago. You like it?”
“Mhm. Maybe you should get more.”
“Oh, yeah? You’d like that?”
“I’d love that.”
Kriff, now you’re thinking of Din with more tattoos and your mind starts going hazey at the thought. You grind your hips against him, feeling the wetness seep out of you and down his shaft, soaking his groin. The small bunk is filled with the obscene noises of skin colliding with skin and the wet sound of his cock moving in and out of you.
Soon enough, you’re at the edge of orgasm thanks to Din’s cock hitting all the deepest angles inside you, the sight of his bare body beneath yours and the thought of him with tattoos.
“Din, I’m gonna cum,” you whimper.
“Mm, let me feel it, cyar’ika.”
A tingling sensation originates at your core and spreads outwards. The movement of your hips grow erratic as you ride out your high, the pool of wetness beneath you growing bigger as you cum. Your own orgasm triggers Din’s and soon you’re both coming together. His cum spills inside you and his grip on your waist tightens as he moans your name.
But now you’re resting against his chest, his cock still inside you and starting to go soft. Your bodies are slick with sweat as you catch your breath. You whisper beside his helmet, “You should get naked more often.”
“I bet you’d like that.”
“Oh come on, you know I would.”
He chuckles, “I know, cyar’ika. I know.”
He rubs your back and soon enough you’re both falling asleep, letting the exhaustion from the day and the evening’s activities finally get to you. You could spend the rest of your days like this.
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We Come Back Every Time - Anakin Skywalker
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A/N: I haven’t even watched Ahsoka, but all the clips of Anakin live rent free in my mind. Not gonna lie, this went in a completely different direction than I first imagined, but I’m not mad about it.
TS Prompt #4: Style
Pairing: Anakin Skywalker x Reader Word Count: 2.1k Synopsis: No matter how many times they say it's the last, Anakin and the reader always find each other coming back for more. (Warning: smut)
“And I should just tell you to leave, cause I know exactly where it leads, but I watch us go round and round each time.”
Midnight - the rain is pouring in Coruscant. The planet is weather controlled, and Anakin curses himself for not thinking to check it beforehand. But this far into the city, as far as he has come, he doesn't care.
His cloak is drenched by the time he arrives at your door. He knocks once. When the door opens, you are wearing pink pajamas and a scowl on your face.
"What are you doing here, Anakin?" you ask, tilting your head up to look at him, slowly, as if he is barely worth your time. The thought aggravates him in the special way that only you can.
"I know what we said last time," he says, his voice low.
"We said it was the last time," you say. Anakin laughs gently.
"And how many times have we done that?" he asks. You let out another annoyed sigh, but he sees the slight smile on your face. "Are you going to invite me in? I am dripping all over your hallway."
"You can come in but you can't stay," you say, swinging the door open. Anakin walks in, barely waiting for you to open it, because he already knows you will let him in.
"Oh, do you have other plans tonight?" he asks.
"It doesn't matter what my plans are," you say, walking into the living room after him. "We can't keep doing this, Anakin."
"Why?" he asks. He takes a step towards you, a smug smile on his face, but you turn away quickly.
"You took an oath, when you joined the Jedi. Each time we do this, you risk your place among the Order."
"Maybe I don't care about all that," he says, again moving closer to you, placing a hand at your waist. You look up at him with a disbelieving frown.
"Maybe I do," you say, and push him off gently. "I have my own future to worry about, too. My firm just took on another senator. If we got caught, it would be a scandal, and I could lose my job."
"We won't get caught. We haven't so far."
"It only takes once," you say with a sigh. He looks at you for a moment, then nods. He knows you're right. He's had this same conversation with himself each time he comes to your apartment.
"I'm sorry," he says.
"Don't be sorry," you say. And after a pause, "You look like you've had a long day."
"You could say that."
"Want to talk about it?" you ask, already moving to your bar cart to make him a drink. It's another rule violation, and he sees you pause for just a moment, but continue to make the drink.
"I had another activity in mind," he says. You let out a tut of laughter.
"Please don't sit on my couch," you say, stopping him in the motion. "You're wet."
"I noticed. If you want I can take this all off," he says, returning that smirk from earlier. You roll your eyes and swallow your own drink.
"How about just the cloak?"
"Sure," he says, slipping it off gracefully. Your eyes are on him, on the clothes that cling to his body. "Y/N?" he asks, and your eyes shoot up to his, caught.
"Yes?"
"See something you like?"
"You are so full of yourself," you say, rolling your eyes again.
"You think so?"
"I know so," you bite. Anakin smiles when he realizes you've moved closer to him.
"But you like it."
"I don't."
"You do."
"I don--"
"Just come here," he says lazily. You are breathing heavier, your chest rising and falling, and Anakin knows he's staring, too.
"You think you can just play these same games and I'll fall for it every time?"
"It's worked so far," he says. He's tired of waiting and takes a step towards you. You back up instinctually, and if he had any sense that you weren't completely into this he would walk away right now. But he knows that this is part of it, part of the dance the two of you do.
"You think you know me, but you--"
"Enough about what I think," Anakin says, moving so he's now directly in front of you. "What are you thinking right now?"
"I think you're incredibly cocky," you say, and he can see the hate flash over your face because it comes out in a breath. Anakin smiles, smiles because he knows, smiles in the way that makes you weak in the knees.
"I think for good reason," he says, his voice low. He takes a step and suddenly he's in front of you, towering over you. He looks down at you as your back hits the wall, and he can see the moment you no longer care about what's right and what's wrong. With a soft whine, you tilt your head and lock your lips with his.
Anakin devours you. His lips, tongue, teeth, all fight for dominance of your mouth as you squirm against him. The moans you make are fuel to him, fuel to keep going, to keep utterly destroying you.
There is a glass in your hand, and his Jedi instincts catch it before it shatters to the ground, your hands already pawing at his drenched shirt. He sets the glass on the bar cart and yanks open his shirt with a fist.
You pull away for air and look at his slick chest. There is hot desire in your eyes, and Anakin is of no mind to keep you waiting.
"If I take this all off, can we get on the bed?" he asks in a pant.
"Yes, fine," you say, kissing whatever part of him you can reach as he strips.
In a moment, he has you lifted in the air, your legs wrapped around him as he guides you towards the bedroom. He throws you down on the bed, and looks down at you in a surveying glance.
Your hair is spread out around you, your skin flushed. The pink pajamas you wear are wrinkled and half undone already, your warm skin peaking through the buttons.
"Isn't this so much better than arguing?" he asks lowly. You rise up on your elbows and look at him, disinterested.
"Are we doing this or not?" you ask.
"Oh, absolutely, I just needed to take you in first. Now that you've given in to what you want."
"Please shut up," you say. He laughs to himself as he crawls onto the bed, settling just above you, eye to eye.
"You seem angrier than usual," he says, his voice low. "I don't usually have to work this hard to convince you." As he speaks, his hand travels down your stomach, and slips into the waist of your pants. You breathe heavily when a finger of his slips beneath your underwear.
"It's nothing," you say, your voice heavy as his fingers works against you.
"Nothing?"
"That's what I said."
"I can stop, you know?" he teases, slowing his movements, but not removing his hand from you.
"You wouldn't."
"Tell me what's got you all worked up."
"You," you gasp.
"What about me?"
"Fuck, Anakin," you whine, writhing against him, "I don't want to talk."
"But it's so cute when you do, watching you struggle to keep your breathing even."
"You are an asshole, you know that?"
"I do. Tell me what's bothering you."
"I heard," you say, nearly crying as his forefinger circles the bud at the apex of your thighs. "That you've been seeing other girls."
"Seeing other girls?" he asks, a breath of a laugh. "I didn't peg you as the jealous type."
"More like I felt sorry for them."
"That's not what you felt."
"You don't know what I feel."
"I know what you're feeling right now," he says. His lips find the sensitive skin beneath your ear and your hips buck as he places a searing kiss. "Admit it."
"Admit what?" you pant. He has picked up his rhythm, and he knows you are close.
"That you're jealous."
"I'm not."
"Tell me or I won't let you come."
"I hate you," you groan, lifting your hips to try and increase pressure.
"Tell me." His voice is a whisper against your skin. He sees the gooseflesh appear and knows he'll get his way. He always does when he has you like this.
"Fine! I was jealous! Happy?"
"Very," he says, removing his hand and in the same motion, dropping down to replace it with his mouth. You cry out as his lips close around you and within moments, you are coming around him.
He watches you come down. The heave of your breaths, the muscles finally loosening. How could you ever stop doing this? There are so few joys in the Jedi order, and absolutely none of them come as close to this. To watching you come undone.
When you sit up, the frustration in your eyes has dimmed. Anakin thinks it will take at least two more orgasms to diminish it completely.
"There aren't any other girls," he says, scooting closer to you.
"I don't really care if there are," you say, looking up at him. He takes your chin in his hand and smiles gently.
"You do care."
"It doesn't matter if I do," you say, "Because this is the last time."
"How often do we say that, and how often do we come back every time?"
"This time will be different," you say, running your hand through his soaked hair, slicking it back.
"I don't believe that for a moment."
"And why's that?" you ask, your voice softening.
"Because this is too good. And because, I know, like you do, that we'll just keep going round and round in this dance, rather than leave each other forever." Your eyes search him for a long moment.
"I don't know that."
"You do. It's our style,” he says. You groan in annoyance.
"I don't want to talk any more."
"What do you want to do?" he asks, his hand trailing down to your hip.
"I want you to fuck me."
"I'll need more specifics," he says, his voice a tease. You roll your eyes again.
"I want you to fuck me from behind," you say, looking at him with that disinterested look again.
"Anything else?"
"As hard as you can."
He flips you over before you can even finish the sentence. Your pajama pants had been hiked around your knees, but he tears them off and onto the floor in a quick motion.
“This what you had in mind?” he asks as he aligns himself to your entrance. He waits until you are saying “yes” before he thrusts inside you. Your answer transforms into a moan as you take him in.
“Ready for me?” he asks. You grind against him, sighing contentedly.
“Yes.”
His thrusts into you are rough, just like you requested. His hands grip your hips, almost certainly leaving bruises. With every push into you, the only sound filling the room is the slap of your bodies and the moans you both make.
"Is this how you imagined it?" Anakin asks, his own breathing heavy.
"Yes, just like this," you pant.
“Do you think about it often?”
"I can't stop thinking about it. I can’t stop thinking about you," you admit. Anakin smiles. It is only in these moments, when he has taken you so fully, filled your body and your mind with only thoughts of him, that you finally let your true feelings show.
"Me too," he says. He again picks up his rhythm. His mechanical hand reaches around your waist and finds the sensitive flesh between your legs. He knows his touch is cold by the way your back arches.
In a few well placed strokes, you are coming around him again. Your walls tighten around him, and it is his turn to come, too. He moans your name and together you both collapse onto the bed.
He spares a glance over at you after he has calmed down some, and your eyes meet. You both let out breathless laughs.
"Why do we do this?" you ask.
"Because it feels good."
"No, why do we have to do the dance beforehand? And don't say it's our style," you deadpan.
"Maybe because if we admit that we like this, it would change completely," he says. You nod and look up at the ceiling. You are silent for a long time.
"Change it for the worse?"
"Maybe. Or maybe it'd be paradise."
"Paradise," you muse. "Sounds a little overrated." He laughs. “I guess I don’t mind our routine,” you say slowly.
“I don’t either,” he says, wrapping a strong arm around your waist and tucking you into his chest.
“But this is absolutely the last time,” you say, a devilish glint in your eyes.
“Oh absolutely,” he says, bringing your lips to his in a claiming kiss. “The very last.”
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ughdontbeboring · 2 months
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only you.
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Thor x WoC reader
reader comes home a little tipsy and Thor has to remind her, she’s the ONE.
Warnings: Slightly smutty? Insecurities, Thor is that man. Reader is tipsy but she’s totally ok with her man dickin her down.
note: this is my big story back, I don’t think I’ve posted in like a year? not sure, also this is super rushed so not super proud but I had to get it out my head. Also there’s going to be an alternative version of this because I couldn’t decide how I wanted this to go. That will be posted in a week or 2. I have a hard time writing Thor idk way, he’s one of my favs but such a complex character I think. Also only one mention of readers complexion but can be read by anyone.
don’t give permission for my works to be used in any form. If you likes it reblog, share it, love it all that good shit.
⚡️
He watched her as she stumbled slightly in her high heels to where he laid in their bed. How she had managed a whole night out with Val, Natasha and the other women in those things he’d never understand. She made it look so effortless, the way her hips and loose hem of her mini dress swayed with every step she took. Women were definitely magical creatures. His heart thumped against his ribs a little harder as he watched his lovely little woman approach. 
Even in the low lit room mostly covered in darkness he could make out every detail of her, maybe it had nothing to do with the ability to see as much as it did with the fact that he had memorized every part of her years ago. 
She was wearing a brown chain mail dress as she called it, her hair down and loose, very little makeup and matching high heels. How Thor had allowed her to leave him without taking her on sight, he could only make sense in her power over him. What she promised when she returned to him that night if he allowed her to leave unscathed by his need.
She stood at the side of the bed with her arms cross her chest, a slight frown on her beautiful face as she stared down at him. Thor lay slightly sitting up against the reinforced headboard. 
“What is wrong my love” He questioned up at her with genuine curiosity though he had a sneaky suspicion of what kind of mood she may be in. Even if she didn’t admit it, he was sure he knew what she’d need tonight. 
“I-you-“ She started before being cut off by her own hiccup.
“Do you need water little one?” 
“Yes, No! I- no listen” she started again before her voice drifted off and her eyes started to shift lower along his naked chest and torso before landing on the thin cool sheet that hardly did anything to cover his muscler thighs and slightly soft cock. 
She bit back a moan as Thor watched her pretty thick brown thighs clench within arms reach of him. His stomach fluttered slightly at the scene before him and at the sweet scent that started to fill the room. 
She seemed to focus on something she wanted to say to him before squaring her shoulders.
“Did-uh did you love that one uh barmaid on that planet..uh the..-“ she started determinedly as her buzzed mind would allow, her eyes rolling up as she tried to remember. 
“No” Thor answered swiftly and honestly as he cut her off. He was so sure it almost made her angry at him and it annoyed her more because it’s not even something to be upset about she should be happy he seemed so sure but her tipsy mind wasn’t fully on track yet.
She sucked her teeth and rolled her eyes at him. 
“Wait, you didn’t let me fisnish you-you don’t know which one-“
But Thor was quick as he pulled her over his lap and into the empty space next to him, his large body quickly finding his place between her soft thick thighs. 
They both let a groan slip as their bodies came in contact. Thor’s bare cock between their bodies, laid snuggly against her panty covered cunt. The wet patch his veiny shaft rocked up and over making him groan. 
“It does not matter, I’ve loved none of them” he spoke truthfully again without hesitation, one arm holding him up as his eyes followed the moment of his cock. 
She felt like her world as spinning as she looked up at him. She knew she shouldn’t have but the mention of significant others, their ex’s and flings left her mind to wonder too much about Thor’s long life. It was something she really never let herself focus on in the few years they’d been together. But even the girls night out and plenty of shots couldn’t shake her mind from Thor’s earlier comment in front of everyone, about a planet so bizarre, it led to the new information of a one night stand. 
“Not even, not even, that one Loki said uh the” she tried. Remembering when she first met Loki, he had tested her by trying to rile her up with talk of Thor’s past lovers. Only to apologize shortly after when he realized for himself she was the one, the only one for his brother. But now that information did nothing for her jealousy. 
“No” was Thor’s firm answer as his body slowly rocked into hers harder. His deep eyes raking over her. She looked like a vision. Her hair all around her surrounding her head like an halo, breast basically coming out of her dress from the lack of a bra. Her chest heaving. She was an Angel, Thor was sure the only one in all the universe and she was his. 
“Thor! You’re not letting me finish!” She kicked her feet very childishly causing Thor to bite his lip to stop from laughing as he stared down at her. Nothing but amusement and love in this bright blue and brown eyes. “Ok the one from-“
“No. No. No and no, little dove the answer to that question will always be no” he said cutting her off again. 
His large hand grips her face, as the other continued to hold himself above her, as she stares up at him completely doe eyed and utterly in love despite her little outburst. He loved her all ways but this way, so open and so needy was one of his favorites, his cock twitched and thicken at the sight and feel of having her fully willing for anything he’d do beneath him. 
“Little queen, it matters not who you mention, who anyone could mention from over the centuries of my life. I have loved none of them, even when I thought it could be love you’ve came into my life and shown me how foolish of a God I was to ever consider that love” he spoke truthfully. 
The tears swelled in her eyes as she took him in, her fingers dancing all over his face before tracing her thumb along his bottom lip before he started to speak again. 
“Because in all these centuries, in all the galaxies, in all the universe I have ever only loved you, I could never have loved another, not when your love exist and even in death it could not fade” 
“Thor-“ she sobbed lightly. 
“Shhh little queen, I know, let me remind you there is only you for me, there is only we” Thor spoke against her fingertips, before sucking her thumb softly into his wet mouth and rolling his hips into her. She moaned at the contact of skin to skin, she hadn’t even notice Thor rip her thong, his veiny cock pushing up along her bare wet cunt. 
“I am yours completely” Thor said before he swiftly buried his thick cock in her til the hilt, her eyes rolled back as her loud gasped filled the quiet room. 
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five-rivers · 7 months
Text
Stargazer, Moonweaver, Net
Hey, you. Yes, you. Have you ever wondered, hey, what would it look like if @five-rivers, @jackdaw-sprite, @seaglass-skies, @datawyrms, and @akela-nakamura all worked together on a fic for Phantasy Phest? No? Too specific? Well, if you had, it would look exactly like this fic here.
AO3 link
Tags: Lost Time, The portal accident, Phantasy Phest 2023, Alternate Universe - Modern Fantasy, Fairies, Blood Drinking, Moths, Clockwork has low opinions of the Fenton Parents, Transformation, Body Horror, Danny gets to say Fuck
Word Count: 11,197
Fic continues after cut.
.
"Ohno. Oh, no, no no nooooooo."
The stars were bright tonight.
Danny could even see them from where he was at the edge of a large clearing, where the trees stopped to wreathe the base of a hill.
Unusually, Danny didn't care.
"Nooooo," he said again under his breath.
Danny pushed at the net again. It reeked of garlic and sage the same way his parents’ nets always did, and the cord was rough and knobbly between his fingers. They must have woven this one with something extra.
He needed to get out. But with his flashlight fallen somewhere he could barely see the net or where it might end.
His flashlight. Where was his flashlight? Danny crouched, and began to grope at the ground around him. It couldn't have rolled too far, right?
The net folded up into his face, scratchy and unexpected. Danny flinched back but kept going, moving his hands in a circle. They met dead leaves and earth, and more than once he touched slimy and wet things he hoped were slugs.
He didn't find anything that felt like a flashlight.
"Heck," said Danny.
He sat down on the ground. The damp seeped into his pants but at this point that was a distant concern.
Maybe he could just find the edge of the net. It was a net. It had an edge. And his parents weren't always great at traps.
Danny pulled the net hand over hand in one direction and stopped when he felt something thicker cross over an arm.
He groped at it. It felt like the edge. Or an edge. One side didn't have all the net stuff. With mounting relief he followed it with his fingers–and discovered that it was attached to an opening only about large enough to slip a hand through.
There wasn't a tie that he could feel.
He couldn't find any other holes in it.
The relief withered. He was caught, alone, in the dead of night, in one of his parents' stupid monster catching nets. Without a flashlight.
And his parents, at best, might find him in the morning.
"Heck," said Danny, again.
Then he remembered he was alone, deep in the woods in the middle of the night, and no one would hear him.
"Fuck."
If only, Danny thought a while later, he'd brought his pocket knife. Or literally any knife. Something sharp to cut through the ropes.
None of the rocks he could reach had worked, though that was probably a little because he still couldn't see much of anything. It was really hard to wear through rope when you were doing it with a rock, blind. And through a net.
He was cold. His butt was colder from sitting in the leaves earlier. He kind of wanted to do it again, as a measure of his suffering. He wanted to be home, dry, and warm even more.
Maybe he could just wait for morning. Maybe his parents would know the trap had gone off, and come to check it. Maybe they'd check it anyway. They were the town crackpots for a reason. They didn't just believe in fictional creatures, they did so enthusiastically and with the kind of prejudice that made them set net traps in the woods. For one of their own innocent children to get caught in when he was only trying to stargaze on a clear night before school started in a few weeks. See some constellations, spot a few meteors, maybe a handful of planets, that kind of thing.  
Never mind that he’d maybe snuck out. Because he knew they’d freak out about him going into the woods alone. Because they believed in faeries.
Gosh, he hoped this didn't get back to Dash.
At least the stars were bright tonight.
He sighed and looked up, eyes automatically picking out familiar constellations.  The Big Dipper was easiest, although finding the rest of Ursa Major was less familiar.  All seven stars of Ursa Minor were easily visible, which again highlighted how good the seeing was. Then there were the other circumpolars.  Draco, Cepheus, Cassiopeia…  He could see the V of Andromeda, where it blended with Pegasus, and he could almost convince himself that–
An owl - he thought it was an owl - hooted somewhere nearby.  He jumped, which had the side effect of reminding him that, yes, he was still in a net.  He rubbed his shoulders and neck where they’d been rammed into the net.  Straining against rope shouldn’t have felt like running into a wall, but he supposed he did have his weight on the bottom of it.  
But he soon had other things to worry about than his parents’ irrational net design.
(Seriously, why was there enough room to stand up in this net?  What were they even trying to catch?  At first, he’d thought he could just walk away, back to town, even inside the net, but it was tied to something.  Maybe one of the trees?)
Sounds started to rise up from all around the clearing.  First the high-pitched chirr of crickets, then croaking, buzzing, and chirping.  Small noises, from small things.  
But with those small noises, Danny started to notice rustling and creaking and–  Was that a dog howling or a wolf?  Were there even any wolves here?  He remembered a unit in science last year where the teacher talked about wolves going extinct in some states.
The stars were bright tonight.  The woods around him?  Not so much.  
“People spend nights outside all the time,” he said out loud.  The word probably would have been more impactful if they weren’t whispered.  “All the time.  People go camping and hiking and stuff for fun.”  Never mind that they were usually more prepared to do so than Danny currently was.  And that most of the time, they could decide to just leave and go home or get a hotel room if camping got to be too much for them.  He continued, more loudly, “I just have to wait for morning.  They’ll find me in the morning.  And– and if they don’t, I’ll be able to see.  I’ll be able to get myself out.  I’ll be fine.”
If nothing ate him first.  
No.  No.  That was–  What out here could even eat him, anyway?  Wolves, yeah, okay, but were there wolves?  Still unclear.  Bears?  If there weren’t wolves, he doubted there were bears.  He’d never heard of any bears out here, anyway.  What else could eat a human who wasn’t, well, already dead?  Cougars?  That one school, a couple districts over, had a cougar for a mascot, didn’t they?  That didn’t really mean anything, though.  What else, what else…  Feral pigs?  Those were supposed to be invasive around here, weren’t they?  Danny had kind of laughed at the idea of it in class, but, here, now, in the dark, was a different story.   
He was pretty sure anything else was too small.  So.  Three things out of how many animals?  Thousands?  Yeah.  Yeah, the odds of those three specific animals showing up to bother him were low.  Yes.  Nothing wrong with the math there.  No siree.  
(And the stuff his parents were worried about, the stuff they’d set this trap for, that stuff didn’t exist at all, so he didn’t have to worry about it.  There were no werewolves, no chimerae, no hobgoblins, and definitely no fairies.  Wasn’t even worth thinking about.)
A branch snapped.  Then another.
He’d thought the owl was close, but this sounded closer.  And those didn’t sound like small branches.  
A deer?  There definitely were deer here.  Sam talked about deer resistant and repellent garden plants, sometimes.  Deer could get big.  Like, reindeer were huge, right?
It was dark under the trees, but by starlight alone Danny could still perceive a shadow moving among other shadows.  Something tall.  Something not shaped anything like a deer.
The shadow came closer.  
Danny held his breath and shrunk down against the nearest tree.  He couldn’t fight a bear.  Not even when he wasn’t caught in a net.
"Hello."
"Hi," said Danny back, on autopilot.
Danny continued staring at the shadow for several more tense moments before it occurred to him that it had talked.
"Wait, you can talk?" Danny asked.
"It would appear so," said the shadow, and did not move.  Now that Danny was looking and thinking rather than just freaking out, the shadow looked, well, pretty humanoid.  Tall, sure, and wearing a long coat with a hood - or maybe a dress?  And that could be long hair.  Significantly less weird in the middle of the summer than a coat - but humanoid.  
Human, he should say.  Outside of, like, parrots, there weren’t a lot of other things that could talk.  No matter what his parents said.  
"Um. I'm a little stuck," said Danny.
"Really?" The shadow did not sound surprised.
"Can you, I don't know, cut the net loose? Please?"
The shadow hummed. "I think the more interesting question is why you're stuck in the first place.  One does not frequently encounter those such as yourself in the woods so late at night."
Oh, wow.  Danny could empathize with the curiosity.  He really could.  This was a weird situation to come across, and whoever this was, they must be just as confused as Danny.  But he also really didn’t want to explain anything about this to a stranger.  And he would really rather be out while talking to what was, yet again, a complete stranger.  
… Humans were pretty dangerous themselves, come to think of it.  
“Yeah, I guess not.”  He swallowed.  “Why are you out here, anyway?”  Maybe he was being rude, but the shadow had asked first.
The shadow shifted, looking up.  Starlight limned pale skin and a sharp, straight nose in shades of gray.  “The stars.  The sun is too bright during the day.  It is easier to see them at night.”
“Oh,” said Danny.  Maybe, hopefully, not a murderer, then.  Just another person out stargazing.  A weird person but…  Danny didn’t exactly have room to talk.  “Yeah.  Me, too.  Since the moon isn’t up and all.  I just, uh, ran into this.  Trap.  Thing.”  He tugged at the net.  “And now I can’t get out.”
The shadow’s head tipped back down.  “Can’t you?”
“I really can’t.  I can’t even figure out how it’s tied on.  Do you, like, have a flashlight or something?”
“I do not.”
“Not even, like, one on your phone?”
“No.”  The shadow leaned forward, and might have held out a hand, but if they did, they didn’t touch anything that Danny could feel.  “What a curious and terrible thing,” murmured the shadow.  “What cruelty and carelessness, to leave it to trap the unwary.”
Danny winced.  Yeah.  Yeah, okay, it kind of was, and it was probably a small miracle that no one else had ever gotten trapped in one of these things.  
That Danny knew of.  
He pushed the thought of his parents absent-mindedly forgetting to check one of these traps, or only checking them once a week, out of his mind.  His parents were crazy and kind of forgetful and… well, the point was, he would have heard if something had… happened.  
They wouldn’t do that, anyway.  
“Yeah.  But, um.  Even without the flashlight, please, help?  Just, maybe if you could untie me, or if you have…”  Did he really want this guy to have a knife?  Not really.  Still.  “Something to cut with, maybe?”
“I cannot cut the net in which you find yourself.”  The shadow shifted again.  “However, I will stay with you until you are free.”
“Maybe if you tried some of the knots, you could get me out, though,” pointed out Danny.  
“I have encountered ropes like this in the past.  They do not agree with my skin.”
“What, like, you're allergic?” asked Danny.  
“Something like that.”
Just his luck.  He was found, but the person to find him was… incredibly strange.  And not very useful.  And had possibly run into his parents’ nets before and had a reaction to them.  
“Okay.  But maybe you could call for help?  I mean, I know you said you don’t have a phone, but you could go get someone who can get me out?”
“Child,” said the shadow, with a touch of amusement, “there are things in these woods that would eat you whole.  I am equipped to deal with them.  You are not.  It would be irresponsible of me to leave you while they wander.”  They settled themselves nearby.  “Besides, I can see the stars here as well as I could elsewhere in these woods.”
“Eat me?” squeaked Danny.  He'd thought about bears earlier, but not, like, out loud.  Talking about them out loud was different. He cleared his throat. “You mean like bears?”
“In some respects,” said the shadow, still amused.
"Okay, um." Danny really did not like confirmation that there were bears around. He could have gone without knowing that. Except he probably should know. Considering he was in a net.
The net.
Which the stranger somehow thought he'd be able to escape on his own?
"Hey, um. I have been trying to get out for a while," said Danny. "It hasn't been working. You're sure you can't do anything to help?"
"There is more than one kind of trap here."
Danny blinked.
Crap.  That would be just like his parents, wouldn’t it?  They couldn’t leave it at just one stupid trap in a public space, they have more.  “Where?”
“You will not be able to see it from your perspective, but I have no doubt it would close were I to attempt to free you.”  
“Great,” said Danny.  He took in a shuddering breath.  “Great.  And you, what, think I’ll be able to avoid it on my own?  When I can’t even see it?  Or is this a ‘wait until morning’ thing?”
“You will, at least, be less liable to be eaten by wild animals at that point.  And more able to untie knots with the light of day.”
Okay, yeah.  Danny had been thinking both of those things as well, but with someone here, he’d hoped… 
He rubbed his eyes, tiredly, and, to his absolute horror, his stomach rumbled.
“Are you hungry?” asked the shadow, as if Danny wasn’t already embarrassed enough.  
Danny mumbled something indistinct.  He had eaten.  Just…  The main course had…  Well, some things were better left unsaid.  The salad (courtesy of Jazz) had been okay, and so had the carrots.  He’d felt full right after dinner.  He had.  
But, yeah.  He was hungry.  Dinner had been hours and hours ago at this point. 
“I have food enough to share.”
“Uh,” said Danny.  “Okay?”
Something moved under his nose, and he flinched.  He hadn’t seen the shadow move.  
“Um, I’m not sure I can…”  He tried to wedge his fingers into one of the holes of the net.  He’d lost track of the opening.  
“They are small.  They will fit.  Hold out your hands.”
Danny, only a little skeptical, held out his hands. As promised, several round, slightly damp things, like largeish marbles, were dropped into them through the holes in the net.
“What are these?”
“Star jelly.”
“Like, from starfruit or something?” asked Danny, interested.  He squished one between his fingers.  It was springy, like a gummy.  But still.  Damp.
“Or something,” said the stranger.
“Why is it damp?”
“It hasn’t dried.”
Well. That was almost no information at all.
“But it’s edible?”
“I enjoy them regularly.”
Danny huffed slightly.  This guy was weird.  Again, that was the pot calling the kettle black, but Danny didn’t go around offering weird food to strangers.
No, he went around getting trapped in nets.
And he was hungry.
And it wasn’t like he hadn’t eaten weirder things. His parents could be creative.
Maybe he wasn’t supposed to accept food from strangers, but…  This guy was his getting caught in a net buddy.  And he had to admit, he was pretty mad at his parents right now.  It’d serve them right, that Danny was eating someone else’s food.  
Did that make sense?  Maybe not.  But it wasn’t like any of the stuff Sam or Jazz did made any sense, either.
Plus, it had ‘star’ in the name.  He basically had to try out at least one.
He squished the smallest between his fingers one last time, then popped it in his mouth.  
He chewed.
There was no burst of flavor. It tasted… pretty bland, actually. All the way through. But the texture was okay.  Mostly.  It was at least better than what had happened to the chicken fated for dinner.
So.  Probably not poison.  
(Although why anyone would bother to poison him when he was quite literally trapped in a net was beyond him.)
“I also have a variety of mushrooms.”  
Who was this guy? The last hippie in Amity Park? A revolutionary war survivor?
“Do you have hardtack, too?” asked Danny, unable to help himself.
“I have biscuits.”
Oh thank goodness. Normal food.
“Can I have one?”
Something distinctly cracker-like was placed in his hand.
Danny didn’t even bother snarking, he just ate it. The texture was flaky, the flavor nutty and buttery and just salty enough to coat the whole of his tongue with flavor. He crunched into it again and the layers almost shattered between his teeth, then melted in his mouth like butter in a hot pan.
Danny swallowed. He’d never had a cracker that good.
“Can I have another?” he asked. Then, as more fell into his hands, “Where did you even get these? They’re great.”
“I baked them myself.”
Well.  That explained why he didn’t have a phone.  He was a hippie of some variety.  Danny didn’t comment aloud, though, too busy plowing his way through another cracker. He spent a little while chewing in blissful silence before he could swallow.
“They’re great,” Danny repeated, and had another one. And another.
“Ah,” said the shadow, “I believe that was the first proper shooting star of the night.” 
“What?” said Danny, looking up from his impromptu meal.  He licked his fingers, then stretched out the net, the better to see through it.  “Really?  Where?”  
“From the neighborhood of Cassiopeia, crossing her and going north.”  A pointed finger stood out in silhouette against the slightly brighter sky, tracing an imaginary line.
Danny sighed.  “I can’t believe I missed it.”  The Perseid meteor shower was, after all, one of the main reasons he risked sneaking out.  
“Many meteor showers reach their peak shortly before dawn,” said the shadow.  “As we will be here for some time yet, I believe you will have the opportunity to see many more.”
“But the first one…” Danny said, trailing off.
“The first from our perspective.  This shower has been going on for some time.  For someone to our east, perhaps it is, instead, the last.”
Danny grumbled.  
First the net and now this…  
Something golden green streaked across the sky and he perked up.  That one had been nice.  A breath later, a smaller, shorter one flashed at the edge of his vision, a tiny needle of light.  
“See?  There will be more for you to wish on.”
“That’s really not why I wanted to see them,” said Danny, wrinkling his nose.  Wishing was, well.  It was the sort of thing little kids did.  It wasn’t scientific.  It was the kind of thing his parents strictly forbade.
“It isn’t?”
“I…they’re cool. And it’s nice. Or it would be, if it weren’t for this net.”
“What would it hurt to make a wish?”
Danny sighed.  It wasn’t like they were wrong.  This situation was stupid and illogical.  So.  
“I wish I could get out of this stupid net. Before my parents find out about any of this.”
The stranger hummed in interest. “They don’t know?”
“They sure know about the net,” griped Danny.  He didn’t take his eyes off the sky, but he did tug on the ropes to make his point.  The rope was homemade, twisted with nonstandard fibers along with more common silk and hemp, rubbed with garlic and sage.  It was distinctive.  It was familiar.  It was something he'd probably tripped on a dozen times when it was left half-finished on the living-room floor.  “But it's not like I told them I was sneaking out. Like, who's going to tell their parents they're breaking rules?”  
The shadow hummed again.  "That is true."
Danny was distracted from replying or continuing by a pale, oddly oblong blur to the north.  It stayed in place, even as colorful shooting stars passed it by.  
"Is that–?" gasped Danny.  He leaned forward against the tension in the ropes and a similar, less tangible ache in his chest, as if he could get closer to the sky.  
The oblong blur widened into several similar streaks, like thumbprints on glass.  Green, pink, and purple began to seep into them.  
"There must have been a solar storm I didn't know about," said Danny as meteors shot through the undulating curtain of the Aurora. Delight was dancing in his stomach and thrumming along his limbs at the sight. "We hardly ever get the Aurora this far south." 
"It is an auspicious night for stargazing, then," said the shadow, "and one I am indeed glad to share, despite the circumstances."  
The thing was, they were right.  Despite the net, stargazing with someone who liked it as much as he did was nice.  It was really nice, despite the net.  Nice enough to wish, quite sincerely, and on a meteor that fell across the sky in that very moment, that they could do it again.  It probably would have been nice even without the Perseids and the Aurora, but with them he was practically giddy.
Briefly, Danny imagined how this meeting might have gone sans net.  
Okay.  Honestly, Danny probably would have run for it.  Weird adult in the middle of the night, after all.  He had briefly wondered if the guy was an axe murderer. 
He rolled his shoulders.  His back was starting to get sore - probably a combination of the net and how long he'd been looking up, but he didn't want to take his eyes off the light show even for a second.  
"My name's Danny, by the way."  They were kind of sort of friends now.  Stargazing buddies.  Net buddies, even.  Danny couldn't refer to the as 'the shadow' or as 'the guy who sat with me all night the time I was trapped in one of my parents' nets' forever, and he doubted the shadow wanted to keep mentally referring to him as 'that weirdo kid who got stuck in a net' for eternity, either.  
"I am honored that you would trust me with your name," said the shadow, tone strangely formal. 
"Uh, you're welcome?" Danny said.
"I go by Clockwork."
Wow. This guy really was strange, huh?  Was that his legal name?  Just a nickname?  A screen name?  Had he changed his legal name to that?
"Nice to meet you, Clockwork," said Danny, for lack of a better response.
"I am pleased to make your acquaintance, as well."
Pleased to make your acquaintance. Well. Danny's parents were eccentric too (see also: net. see also also: believing said net was going to catch faeries and demons.) and he was now almost eighty percent sure this guy wasn't an axe murderer.
Danny shifted under the net. He could try and shake hands, but the excitement and delight hadn't faded much at all and it was hard to focus on formalities when so much of him was full of so much energy.
Wait.
That was weird, wasn't it? Danny frowned. Should he have taken random food from a stranger? Clockwork had mushrooms, too. Had the star jelly been not just edible but an edible?
Was he high right now?
"Clockwork," Danny began, and the Aurora bloomed across the sky. The moment filled with shared murmurs of admiration, and by the time it died the thought had passed.
Even if the energy hadn't.
He flexed his fingers.  Maybe he’d run through some kind of itchy plant?  That might explain the tingle on his skin.  
There was a hollow, almost melodic popping noise from the vicinity of the shadow.  The vicinity of Clockwork, he corrected himself.  
“You should try to stay hydrated,” said Clockwork.  
A scent both floral and salty wafted up to Danny’s nose.  The green glimmer of the Aurora reflected off the glassy lip of a bottle.  “Is– Is that alcohol?” asked Danny.  “Are you offering me alcohol?  Wine?”
“I am not,” said Clockwork.  “This is far more nourishing.”
“‘This’ being what, exactly?” asked Danny, still vaguely suspicious.  
“It is mostly sugar and water.  Fruit juice, salt, nectar, among other things. As you would call them, electrolytes. You have exerted yourself.  It has not been purposefully fermented.” 
This guy and his weird food. Still, that didn’t seem…bad, exactly. Danny was thirsty, and he liked gatorade, and that was kind of similar, right? And he was curious.
The crackers had been good.  And even the star jelly had been edible.
It took some experimentation to hold the bottle firmly through the net.  The body of it was too large to fit through any of the holes.  But the mouth and neck of the bottle could go through, and Clockwork seemed content to hold it until Danny figured it out.  
The liquid inside was thicker than he had expected.  Sweeter and saltier, too.  The flavor was… interesting.  A little sour, a little bitter, a little… savory?  It definitely tasted like flowers smelled.  Only, it also tasted like something else?  A lot of something elses.  
He pulled the bottle back and licked his lips thoughtfully.  He… didn’t hate it.  It sure wasn’t something he’d just drink on his own, though.  On the other hand, taking that sip had made him realize how thirsty he actually was.  Which was very thirsty.  He must have gotten more dried out than he’d thought, first walking here and then fighting the net for who knew how long.  
He took another sip, trying to focus on the flavors he hadn’t quite been able to name.
And another.
Something in him settled as he drank. He hadn’t realized how nervous he’d been. Was it nervousness? He’d thought it was excitement. Delight. Something positive.  But now it was settling into something softer. Calmer. And yet the sky was no less compelling.
Maybe it was a different sort of happiness, now that the unexpected relief and delight of a fellow stargazer out here had calmed his nerves. Maybe he hadn’t managed to calm down until now, and the drink was finally letting him?
Regardless, his limbs weren't so tense anymore, and breaths he hadn’t realized had become so short were drawing long and even now, and that was a relief.
He alternated sips with looking up at the stars.  The Aurora undulated slowly, and was periodically pierced by meteors.  The stars behind the curtains of light were harder to see, but he could still pick out his favorites coming and going, first hidden, then not.  The motion of the lights almost made them seem as if they were moving. It was hypnotizing. 
He tilted the bottle back once more, and made a disappointed sound deep in his throat when he realized it was empty.  Huh.  He must have liked it alright after all.  That wasn’t a small bottle.  In fact, it was bigger than he’d originally thought when Clockwork had first given it to him.  
… He hoped this didn’t make him have to pee.  He was in the woods, but standing next to, um.  Well.  An impromptu bathroom.  Until dawn, at least.  Would make the net thing much worse.
“Done already?” asked Clockwork.
“I guess I was thirstier than I thought.”
“You had been exerting yourself for some time.”  Clockwork plucked the bottle out of Danny’s hands.  “But I believe that you will soon see the fruits of your exertions.”
Danny sighed and leaned more deeply against the tree he was attached to.  Subtly, he rubbed his back against the bark.  The soreness was getting worse.  “Not unless you see a rescue party.”
Clockwork hummed. “I do not. But perhaps you will not need one. The weave of the net seems looser, now. Can your hands fit through?”
Danny tested it. His hand fit through one of the holes easily. And another. It was the same with the third he tried.
“What,” he said.
“It is progress, is it not?”
“I don’t know how,” Danny said. “It’s not like Mom and Dad don’t tie these things at every connection. I didn’t think they could slide.”
“And yet your hands can fit through.”
“Yeah. I just wish I knew how that happened.”
“Dawn will come,” said Clockwork. “You will be able to see it then. Perhaps you worked them loose with your straining.”
“I guess,” said Danny, still wondering.
“And with dawn, you will be free, one way or another. For now, shall we focus on this spectacular sky?”
“Yeah,” said Danny.
He’d never seen a night sky like this before, after all. Even if he was stuck under a net, he had a …not a friend. But a fellow stargazer who was just as appreciative. And he was full, and no longer thirsty, and even the cold of the wet earth beneath him wasn’t as cutting with Clockwork’s company.
He settled in again to watch the lightshow, and worried at the cords of the net as he did. It wasn’t like he couldn’t do both, after all.
The stars flashed.  The sky spun.  Clockwork and Danny both exclaimed and pointed at particularly impressive meteors.  Clockwork noted the visible planets and occasionally pointed out asterisms Danny had never heard of before.  The Veil, the Key, the Mistletoe, the Dancing Maidens, the Hive, the Moth.  He half suspected Clockwork was just making them, and the stories that went with them, up to entertain Danny.  But, then, Danny was entertained.  He couldn’t complain.  Even when Clockwork tried to get away with calling Libra The Balance, Danny found his objections were more laughter than indignation.
The eastern horizon began to blush pale. Danny found himself almost disappointed at the sight, even if he’d be able to get out of the net soon. And really see Clockwork. After stargazing for hours together, it felt odd that he still didn’t know what the man looked like even though his voice was becoming as familiar as a friend’s.
He rubbed one of the net cords between his fingers.  Was it just him, or did it seem… scratchier?  Thicker?
He stroked the skin on his palms. Did he have rope burn, maybe? He had been pulling on the cords for hours.  And who knew what his parents had soaked the nets in after they’d been woven?  Danny sure tried not to.  
More importantly, before too much longer the sun would drown out the meteors and the Aurora both.  He wanted to press this sight into his mind to keep forever and ever.  And not just the sight, but the feeling of…  He couldn’t put a name to it, to what he felt, sitting here with Clockwork
It just felt important.
A meteor fell.  He wished it would last.  Another meteor, brighter.  He wished that even after Clockwork inevitably found out who Danny’s parents were and what they were like in person, he would still want to be ‘acquaintances.’  Friends.  Whatever.  He was weird enough.  Probably.  Like Sam and Tucker.  
He wished–
A huge fireball bloomed directly overhead, a celestial arrow angling down, north, wreathed in blinding green.  It took Danny’s breath away.  
He wished he could do this again. He wished he could cast off the shadow of his parents’ weird fae traps and property damage and hatred of creatures that didn’t even exist. He wished he could have the space and time to figure out who he was and who he could be, whether that was an astronaut, an astronomer, a screw up, whatever Jazz was trying to convince him to be that week, or, heck, even someone just as strange as his parents and Clockwork.  He wished he could be himself, could just shed the image of what they and almost everyone else seemed to see in him.  
Also, the net.  
Some of the net fell heavily around Danny’s shoulders, then slid off them.  He didn’t look down, still entranced by the after-image.  Then pain, white hot and as sharp as a knife, drove into his temples and back.  It took his breath away.
He dropped to his hands and knees, gasping for air and squeezing his eyes so tightly that tears began to slip out.  What had happened?  What was wrong with him?  He hissed out a shaky breath that was dangerously close to a sob as the pain redoubled, strengthening and strengthening again until static pulsed in the dark of his shut eyes.
It felt as though his head were splitting open.
The pain lanced down his back and he revised the thought. It felt as though he were splitting open.
And then his face came apart.
And then there were only scattered fragments. Scratching.  Growing. Stretching. The feeling of fingers on earth. The feeling fingers of earth. Unfolding. Squeezing. Balance; a knife’s edge.
A great and overwhelming sense of space.
Like a leaf before a storm, Danny trembled.
Eventually, it ebbed.
He was clinging to the ground with all his might, which wasn’t much; the whatever-it-was had left him weak. His limbs felt like jelly and seemed half as cooperative. He was gasping for air, each breath harsh enough to sting his throat. There was a blanket over him and he had the halfway-delirious thought that if Clockwork had a blanket he’d have appreciated it sooner than this.
He couldn’t feel the net.
Had Clockwork gotten him out once it got light enough out? It seemed much brighter now, even if the thought of opening his eyes made Danny wince.
There was a painful, high-pitched chirr sound in the background.  It hurt Danny’s ears and made him wonder if there was an injured animal nearby.  
Something pressed down gently on the back of his neck, where the fuzzy, fluffy edge of the blanket rested.  It removed itself, then returned at the top of his head, whereupon it slid down to the top of his back.  
Oh.  Oh.  He was being petted.  Comforted.  That must be someone’s hand.  Clockwork’s?
It felt… unusually satisfying.  Especially when they fluffed the ruff of the blanket which Danny was strangely aware of.  
Very gradually, the tension in his body began to ease, and he was able to start cataloging the parts of his body that hurt, which was all of them.  But there were a few that hurt more.  His eyes.  His ears.  His temples and the sides of his head.  His entire back.  His shoulders, neck, ears, and large parts of his spine felt like every hair on them had been individually plucked out and then sandpapered.  Speaking of his spine, that felt as if it had been stretched, pulled to bits.  And his back still felt like it had been stabbed.  Multiple times.  Especially around his shoulder blades and at the base of his spine.  
Other than that, he was just sore, everywhere.  
The quality of the chirr sound he’d been hearing started to change, morphing into a sort of purr.  One that rose and fell in time with the hand petting Danny.  
Huh.  
His hand flexed on the ground.  Something was…  There was something very off here, beyond the pain, but that was getting better, and he was starting to feel almost… comfortable.
His weight shifted again, and the ground shifted under it.
It was warm.
It was…damp? Wet. There was something wet under his hands.  Carefully, worried that it would move again, Danny took one hand off the ground and brought it to his face to sniff.   
It smelled good. It smelled wonderful, salty and hearty and just a little bit like chicken soup.
He licked it.
“There we are,” said Clockwork, softly.  “Take as much as you need.”  
Danny needed a lot, right now. His throat was raw, and he was thirsty and suddenly starving, and beyond that the pain that was still leaving echoes through his body. This was warmth and comfort and he wanted both.
He lowered his head and began to lap directly from the source, and warmth and comfort steadily filled him like the morning sun.
He pulled back, not exactly satiated, but needing something else, something different, now.  He made a soft, pleading sound, more like a chirp or a keen than anything human.  He didn’t understand what was going on, but part of him trusted he would be cared for.  Loved.  He’d already been given so much he didn’t know he needed…
Another plea escaped his throat.  It blended with the softening chirr, fitting with it far better than Danny felt it should.  
Something soft and sweet-smelling tickled his cheeks, and Danny dove in, his tongue coming out to search for what he knew was there.
Sweet.
Sweet, but not in the way of candy or even sugar. This was softer, perfumed, more reminiscent of honey but lacking that sharp note.
He wanted more.
As he pushed his face deeper into the… container… something touched his…  Touched…  What?  It was touching his… not his head, but something over it, something attached, something he could feel, and now that he could feel it, was thinking about it, whatever it was, he could feel its movements, as even the sigh-soft breeze pushed it around. 
It– No, they were something fine.  Something soft and delicate.  Something light and flexible and oh so very sensitive.  
The hand, Clockwork’s hand, stroked down his back again, and Danny realized he could feel the fluff of the blanket the same way he’d been able to feel the things on his head. And it trailed past that, to his horribly sore back, and down, all the way down, past where his back should end.
Down, to where Danny could feel something laying across a foot. Down, to where he could feel a hard object under him.
Something twitched, and the thing across his foot fell away. The hard something vanished, too, replaced with the soft ground he found himself on.
Danny chirred, confused.
Oh.  He had been the one making that sound all along.  But.  That wasn’t a sound he could make.  It wasn’t.  
He had to see what was going on. 
Opening his eyes was, perhaps, the single hardest thing he had ever done.  It wasn’t that they were stuck closed or anything, they were just so heavy, and a large part of him just didn’t want to know, wanted to stay half asleep, wanted to keep being held and petted.
Red. A deep, rich red puddled around him on the strange, soft ground. And the ground was uneven, and covered with small ridges and creases where it didn’t vanish beneath the red. Which was welling up from the ground like a spring.
Danny was wrist-deep in it.
A short distance from his face lay the biggest flower Danny had ever seen.  It was bigger than his head, its pale petals stained liberally with the red.   Handprints.  The red stains were in the shape of handprints.  Danny’s handprints.  
The red looked– Well, it looked a lot like–  Like a scene from a horror movie–  But it was coming from the ground, it couldn’t be.  It couldn’t be blood.  
Danny had been drinking this.  What had he been thinking?
“Are you feeling better?” asked Clockwork.
Danny looked around for him.  Then, he looked up.  
The very first thing he noticed was that there were still stars in the sky.  It was still dark, the Aurora was still bright.  The meteors were still falling.
Why could he see?
Why could he see so much more?  He’d only ever seen the stars like this in long-exposure photographs.  The light pollution was way too strong this close to the city.  
There were other, closer things.  The leaves on the trees were green, but they weren’t just green.  Their veins seemed to glow with soft pinks and blues.  He could see insects and birds, too, all of them strangely bright to his eyes, like they had swallowed stars.  
Then, there was Clockwork.  It had to be Clockwork.  There wasn’t anything or anyone else it could be.
“I will interpret that as a yes,” said Clockwork, smiling down at him with love clear in all six eyes.
He had the nose Danny had seen before, yes, and long, silk-white hair, but everything else was so far beyond what Danny had imagined that it was hard to even comprehend.  
And yet it suited him perfectly.
His skin was blue, like summer twilight, warm and rich.
His face glowed in the same soft, steady way as the birds, and set in it, his eyes were a kindly red. There were four on his right side but his left had only two; a deep black scar tore its way down most of his face and left two empty sockets in its wake. It was interrupted only by his primary eye on that side, and Danny felt tender relief that the old wound hadn’t taken that one, too.
White filaments made up a thick ruff around the collar of his– No, that wasn't a cloak, those were wings.  Huge, dramatic, moth-like wings, layered over one another.  There had to be dozens of them, all the way down his back.  They were as dark and starry as the sky on the outside, but some were turned towards Danny to show the luminous, moon-pale undersides.
Below that–below that, Danny couldn’t see. The ground he was on was too high, and Clockwork too large. The ground–
He wasn’t on the ground.
Finally, like disjointed pieces of a puzzle, the details became whole. The uneven place where he lay, with its softness and whorls of ridges and creases. The warmth of it, and the placement.
The–the blood.
He was on Clockwork’s upturned hand.
Forget the rest of it.  When, and how, did Clockwork get so big?  
Danny chirred a question. Wordless, overwhelmed and wondering.
(And why was Clockwork bleeding?)
“You are safe, little one. My little one.”
Danny chirred again, a little cross. That didn’t answer anything.
Clockwork only smiled, and then there was a gentle rocking motion as they moved. Like clouds, the trees in the distance slid sideways with deceptive speed. 
Danny settled, feeling sleepy, slow, and stupid, but still safe.  Like he should be able to make this all make sense, like this should make sense, if he was just a little more awake and aware, but that it didn’t matter if he couldn’t, because he would be protected.
And then, Clockwork tilted, and his hand jostled, and though he didn’t become more visible, they were suddenly surrounded by great spikes of grass and flowers, stories tall. Some of them drooped, heavy with seeds or droplets of dew. They hung huge and heavy from the stalks, like fruit ripe to bursting.
Danny blinked. Frowned. Blinked again.
There was something, an idea, that made sense. But it hung just out of reach, blurry, and every time he reached for it, the thought passed through his mental fingers like the morning mist.
It was, it should have been, obvious.
Clockwork would know. Danny chirred his question again.
“It will come to you,” Clockwork said. ”Give it time.”
Clockwork cleaned him off gently with a huge, damp cloth, taking special care with his ruff, antennae, and wings. He mopped up the blood pooling beneath Danny as well, with a reassurance that Danny was welcome to more if he needed it. With another hand, he laid another huge flower down next to him. The stem where Clockwork had held it glowed briefly, before it faded into the relative dark of early morning, leaving the flower with the same odd coloration as the tree leaves earlier.
Dawn was still hours off. He wasn’t in the net.
Danny looked up.
He’d wondered what it would be like to stargaze with Clockwork without the net.  Apparently, the answer was wonderful.
The stars were still so beautiful. More beautiful, now. There was such an incredible array of color and brightness in the sky, like a living painting. There was scarcely any black left in it.
Danny blinked, slow.  He rubbed his face with his hands, lingering over his ears - which felt long and soft, like a cat’s or a rabbit’s, he must really be sleepy - and the long fluffy things that had sprouted from his head.  They twitched under his fingers.  
He looked up at Clockwork, still hoping for an answer and… Clockwork had things growing from his head, too, now that he looked.  He’d mistaken them for hair, before, but while Clockwork certainly had plenty of that, braided, beaded, and beribboned, that wasn’t all he had.  
They were antennae.  Four of them.  White, fluffy, and softly glowing.  They were much longer, compared to Clockwork’s body, than Danny’s were compared to his.  Danny raised his hands to feel his again.  He had two.  And, maybe, behind each, a ticklish little nub.
It felt…right, that they should both have antennae, though. Satisfying. Comforting, like a hug. Like the stroking had been, and the blood.
What else did Danny and Clockwork share, now?
Danny’s eyes trailed carefully over Clockwork’s face.
Danny was pretty sure he only had two eyes, but he touched his face again, just to make sure.  Then his ears…  Clockwork had big, long ears, too, the edges of them soft with white fur. Just like his ruff.  Danny’s ruff was black shot with silver and… it was growing from his skin.  It wasn’t part of a blanket, which meant…
He twisted his head to check.
There was no blanket.  Danny had wings.  They were wrinkled and slightly damp, but they were wings, just like Clockwork’s, although he didn’t have nearly as many.  Two sets, to Clockwork’s uncountably many.  
He also had a tail. And only two arms, to Clockwork’s four. Somehow, in the moment, this seemed less important than the wings.
His eyes kept returning to his wings.
The outsides looked just like the darker parts of the sky did now, streaked with meteor silver and edged with Auroral green.  The insides were the same vivid colors as the Aurora itself.  Pinks, purples, blues, and greens all dancing together.
They were beautiful.  He definitely, definitely should not have them.
He wanted them.
He shouldn’t want them.  
He did.  
He drew them close to his body and looked up.
There was a huff of fond laughter. “Remember to fan them out, my little fledgeling. We want them to dry well.”
Oh. Right. Danny unfolded his wings again, a little embarrassed he’d forgotten.  
And then he returned his attention to the stars. He was determined to enjoy this for however much longer this might last.  Maybe this would all make sense in the morning.  Maybe all of this would be taken away from him.  Either way, neither was true now.
Now, Danny was here with Clockwork, looking up.
Now, the sky was vast and beautiful.  
Later, his eyes started to feel heavy again.  He pulled the flower close, and began to absent-mindedly chew on the petals in an attempt to stay awake.  He didn’t want to miss anything else.
Despite his efforts, his eyes began to droop. His head kept falling into his neck fluff, and the flower tumbled from his hands.
Clockwork plucked it from where it fell, and replaced it with a blanket, just Danny’s size.
“Some inevitabilities we must fight,” said Clockwork, “but this isn’t one of them, my dear child.”
For another few moments, he kept his eyes stubbornly on the sky.  Another pair of meteors fell, and he wished, perhaps selfishly, that this could last forever.  
But, he admitted to himself with a sigh, he was very tired.  
Danny curled up in Clockwork’s hand, tucking his head under the wings he was careful to keep fanned, and his tail around his head.
“Rest, my little one,” said Clockwork’s voice, already distant. “We can talk more when you are rested.”
And Danny did.
Dawn.
The kiss of the sun on the horizon.  The beginning of a new day.  The banishment of all things of the night.  
Danny jackknifed straight up as if its fire had been poured directly into his veins, heart pounding.  He woke just in time to see his new wings, his beautiful, terrible, fully spread wings evaporate like the morning dew.  
The antennae, the tail, and the fur that had grown around his neck and shoulders and down his spine stayed.  
More concerningly from Danny’s perspective, his perspective didn’t change.  He stayed small, just the right size to fit snugly in the palm of Clockwork’s hand.  
Clockwork’s wings stayed.  So did his extra eyes, his antennae, his skin color, and everything.  
This wasn’t a dream.  
Or there really had been drugs in the food Clockwork gave him. 
Why, oh why, was that the best case scenario right now?  Why was the best possible answer to the question of what was happening that he was just really really high?  
Because if he was just drugged, that meant he was only normal human stupid.  People took stupid drugs accidentally and on purpose all the time.  But if it wasn’t drugs, if this was real… That meant he’d somehow wandered into a world where his parents were right, had always been right, and he was probably about to get eaten.  
“I would not, and will not, eat you,” said Clockwork.  “I never would.”
“I don’t know what you would or wouldn’t do!” hissed Danny, pulling on his hair. “You turned me into some kind of– of moth boy.”  
“You would have turned regardless, trapped so thoroughly and so long on a faerie door on a night like that. I simply made sure that it was kinder.”
“Kinder than what?”
“Any number of things. Any number of fates. They do not give much more mind to cruelty than your parents.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“It was their trap you fell into, dear one.  Without their actions, you could be human, still; safe and warm at home.  Though,” and here Clockwork smiled so gently that Danny couldn’t help but be comforted despite himself. “You are safe, and you are warm. And you could be home as well.”
Danny hunched his shoulders.  “What,” he squeaked, “is that supposed to mean?”
“I mean that as you are, you would be in danger with those who made the net that trapped you. I mean that you would be welcome in my home, and cared for, and safe. You are not the first lost and lonely child I have found. Nor the first with parents who should have protected them, and did not.”
“You’ve kidnapped other kids?”
“I have adopted other children. Other children, who were not cared for as they should have been, not loved as they deserved. As you deserve.”
“My parents love me just fine,” Danny snapped.
“I see,” said Clockwork, and he seemed sad. “And your presence here in the night? Alone, without even a light to see by?”
“I snuck out. And I brought a flashlight with me.”
“Alone,” said Clockwork.
“I thought the woods were safe.”
“Why? Did your parents tell you they were?” asked Clockwork, eyes narrowed and nose flaring.
“No! No, they said they were full of monsters.”
“So they didn’t teach you we could be dangerous?”
“No, I–I didn’t believe them.”
“My child, humans can be dangerous. Even to other humans. Surely, you know–”
“I know that,” interrupted Danny. “I didn’t think you existed.”
Clockwork frowned. “Your parents set cruel traps for the unwary.”
“Because they are crazy. Were crazy?” Danny moaned, burying his head in his hands.  He resisted the urge to start preening his antennae and fluff. “I don’t even know anymore.”
“Their cruelty is the same,” said Clockwork, “Regardless of whether you believed the target existed. And they let you go hungry.”
“That wasn’t their fault.  They made dinner.  It just… didn’t work out.”
“Then whose fault was it?” asked Clockwork.  “Yours?  Your sister’s?  As parents, they should provide for you, not leave you to fend for yourself.”
“They didn’t leave us to fend for ourselves,” scoffed Danny, crossing his arms.  
“What do you call them leaving to go test what was left of that chicken?”
“That was– Okay, but what happened to the chicken was really weird–”
“It was not the first time, or the only time, that they abandoned you in favor of crafting their weapons and traps.”
Danny shook his head.  “They love us.  They love me.”
“Sometimes, that is not enough.”
“Sometimes it is.  Of course it is. They love me. They love me enough to–” Danny swallowed, fighting down grief and horror. “I’m not leaving them.  Or Jazz.”
Swallowing hadn’t helped. It had only shoved the churning knot of emotion down into his chest where it could reach awful vines around his heart and squeeze.
His hands were shaking.
God, what would Jazz do if he randomly disappeared?  They annoyed the heck out of each other, and Jazz definitely held some of the things she did for him over his head for guilt trips, but he didn’t doubt she loved him. He didn’t doubt she would be frantic if he vanished.
He chirred again, mournfully, and only looked up again at Clockwork’s light touch.
“If love is enough,” said Clockwork, softly, ”then shouldn’t it be enough that I love you?”
“I–I don’t know,” said Danny.
Because the thing was, he didn’t doubt that Clockwork loved him. Nor that Clockwork would nurture and protect him, as he already had. It was easy, terribly easy, to imagine snuggling under Clockwork’s wings or into his ruff and trusting that he would be safe.
Danny pinched his eyes shut. “I’m going back.”
“As you are?  Knowing how they would treat those they consider monsters?”
“Yes.  They’re my parents.  They love me.”
“Through this forest, and all of its dangers?”
“Yes.”
“Through all the hazards of that human city?”
“Yes.”
“Nothing I can do will dissuade you?”
“No.”  Although, Danny reflected, Clockwork could certainly stop him physically.  All he would have to do was hold him.  But Danny would fight him.  He’d fight, and he’d never stop fighting, and trying to get back home, no matter what.  No matter how much Clockwork seemed to care for him, or how gentle and kind he was.  
Clockwork sighed.  “Then I have no choice.  I will let you return.”
“You– You will?” asked Danny, suspiciously.  It couldn’t be that easy, could it?
“Yes.  But I would not have you killed out of hand, my child, as would certainly happen if you were to return as you are now.  First, let me show you how to change.”
“I don’t want to change anymore,” said Danny.  “I don’t.  I don’t.” The fear was a beating heart inside of him, the idea of more change, unknown and untraveled. 
“Perhaps I should say, change back.”
“I can be human again?” A needle of hope lanced through his chest. But would he ever see Clockwork again? 
“Not precisely,” said Clockwork, before Danny could dwell.  “No more than you are now.  But it was the doorway that changed you, and doorways are of the between rather than here or there.  Thus, you are of both sides of the door, not just one.  You are still half human.”
Danny sat down.  “I am?” he asked, voice wavering.  He wasn’t going to cry.  Not now.
“Yes,” said Clockwork.  “You are half human… and half faerie.  Half of their house, and half of mine, tied by blood, if not birth.”
Danny remembered.  He remembered drinking Clockwork’s blood (again, what had he been thinking?) and how good it had tasted.  
He hoped that wasn’t going to be, like, a recurring thing.  
“So, what do I do?” he asked.  
“First,” said Clockwork, “you ought to take off your clothing, so it doesn’t tear.”
“So it doesn’t…?”  Danny looked down at himself.  Maybe he should have realized earlier, but he wasn’t wearing the clothes he’d put on yesterday.  Which made sense.  At his current size, they would have been far too big.  Instead, he was wearing simple white layered robes that had openings in the back for his wings and tail.  
“I will have to get you something enchanted to change sizes, or to come when you transform, should you choose to remain and change often,” continued Clockwork.  “But I was able to make these on short notice, and they were suitable for the night.”
“You made these?” asked Danny, oddly touched.  He was supposed to be mad at Clockwork.  He was supposed to be afraid of him.  But both of those feelings just ran out of his hands like water out of a fist.  
“I did,” said Clockwork.  
“What happened to my clothes?”
Clockwork shifted one of his wings, showing what was beneath it.  Silver buckles and pocket watches shone brightly against dark silk and leather.  Other things, like bottles, herbs, and what looked like a small spyglass hung from belts or were secreted in pockets.  Danny’s ratty jeans and t-shirt stood out like a sore thumb.  
“Oh,” said Danny.  “Okay.  Um.”  His hands curled around the edge of the tunic-like top portion of the robes.  “Don’t look.”
Clockwork closed his eyes. 
“Now what?” asked Danny, who very much was not enjoying being naked in the open like this.  
“We are creatures of the night sky,” said Clockwork, eyes still shut.  “We are of the Stars and the Moon.”
“The moon is up during the day, too.  It’s up right now.”
“So it is,” agreed Clockwork.  “But so is the Sun that drowns out the Stars.”
“The sun is also a star.”
“So it is.  But it is not like other Stars.”
“Yes, it is.”
“It is not like other stars to us, or to humans.  It is the light by which so many see.  It is what divides day from night.  It is, you see, what has clipped your wings.” Danny shifted slightly, the missing weight of his wings both foreign and familiar. 
(There was so much to unpack.  He hadn’t any time.)
“Why is it different?”
“Its proximity, perhaps. We can discuss it at a later time, if you wish. I would enjoy such a conversation.”
Danny hadn’t really thought about there being a ‘later’ with Clockwork, but…  The thought of never seeing Clockwork again made his heart squeeze painfully, so he shoved it away.  
“In any case,” continued Clockwork, “for those like yourself to change, you reach for one or the other.  For the day or the night.  The light or the dark.  The Moon or the Sun.  However you would like to think about it.  You give precedence within yourself to one or the other.”
“Is it harder when they’re close to one another in the sky, like now?” Danny asked.
Clockwork smiled, though he kept his eyes shut. “As I do not transform that way, I do not know myself. My other children may have more comparable experiences, and we all are more comfortable under the phase we were born under.”
“I don’t think I’m going to be running into your children any time soon,” said Danny.  Seeing them would, after all, mean that Clockwork had succeeded in kidnapping Danny, too.  Even if it meant that he’d see Clockwork again…
“Even so.  You will be able to see for yourself before long.  Reach out, now.  Can you feel them?”
Clockwork had a lot of confidence in Danny being able to figure this out quickly, huh.  
(Despite still being mad at Clockwork - he was mad, he was - Danny didn’t want to disappoint him.)
Reach out… to something inside himself.  Which was also outside himself?  He wasn’t entirely clear on how literal the connection to the moon and sun was.  But…  Right.  Okay.  He could do this.  He didn’t want to be a little gremlin moth thing that Clockwork - or, heck, an average bird - could carry off at a moment’s notice.  
He closed his eyes.  
Day and night.  Light and Dark.  Moon and sun.  This was the kind of Yin and Yang stuff Sam sometimes got into.  Balance and changing balance.  
If he was reaching for the sun - for the Sun, the idea of the Sun - he should reach for heat, shouldn’t he?  Heat and life and truth.  
He could feel it, on his skin, warming him, cutting through the coolness of the morning.  He imagined that warmth sinking through him, filling him up.  
But there was warmth inside him, too.  It built in his chest and left his lungs with every breath. It churned in his heart and coursed through his veins like the blood that helped to carry it.  It was easy to take that, and imagine light to accompany it, centered at his heart.  To imagine it reaching out as the sunlight reached in.  He imagined it growing, brightening, pushing out against the inside of his skin, chasing away the dark, chasing away the moonlight and starlight and Aurora.  Gold, chasing out black and silver.
Except… not entirely.
The sun was also a star, and all moonlight had once been sunlight.  They mixed at the edges, blending comfortably, linked inexorably.  
(There was magic he would be able to touch through this link that few others could.  He understood this instinctively - but he was not yet ready for it, and the feeling was pushed away, put aside for a later, more appropriate day.)
This was the Sun, a tiny spark of it held within himself.  
(There was the Moon, dark but no less itself, no less present and pulling for its invisibility during the day.)
And… the balance shifted.  
He wouldn’t be able to explain what it felt like, to fall back into his skin.  Not now.  Not today.
Maybe not even if he lived a hundred years.
(Maybe he would, something whispered in his ear. Who knew how long moth-things lived?)
But he found himself at his proper human teenager size, cradled in Clockwork’s arms, no fluff or tail in sight.  
Still naked, though.  
He snatched his clothes from Clockwork, and, blushing furiously, ran behind a tree to change.  
It was strange, walking next to Clockwork.  The… Danny wasn’t actually sure what Clockwork was.  Mothman?  Moth monster?  Anyway, Clockwork was still way taller than him, and the way his ruff and wings made him seem bulkier made Danny feel a little bit better about initially mistaking him for a bear.  
The walk itself was still weird and awkward.  Danny kept drifting closer to Clockwork, and then when Clockwork’s wings ruffled out towards him, as if to part or turn back to let him shelter under them, he flinched away, walking as far apart as the trees would allow.  
Danny wondered if one of the things Clockwork had given him to eat had been some kind of… family love potion, and if it would ever wear off.  Despite no longer having any fur, his skin still itched for Clockwork to touch him, pet him, hold him.  
Although, for that to be perfect, he’d need to change back.  Shrink back down until Clockwork could hold him securely in one hand and pet him, head to tail, with the other.  
Which– No.  No.  He was never going to turn back into a moth.  He wasn’t going to think about it.  He wasn’t ever going to have antennae, or wings, or a tail ever again.  
… Clockwork had a tail.  A long one, longer than Danny’s had been, compared to his body.  It trailed on the ground like the train of a dress, and both the left and right side of it was completely lined with moth wings, as opposed to Danny’s where there were only wings next to the little bulb at the end.  Which Clockwork also had.  It flickered with light, like a lightning-bug’s tail.
Danny wondered if his tail would do that, too, under the right circumstances.  
Not that it mattered.  Again, weird fairy door magic or whatever, he was going to be human from now on.  Yep.  
(Wow, the more he thought that, the less convincing he got.  That was sad, actually.)
They reached the edge of the forest.  Amity Park seemed to sparkle in the light.  Too bright.  Too artificial.  Unreal, after the events of the night.
“Here is where we part, for now,” said Clockwork.  “If you need me, you will be able to find me.” Could he say anything that didn’t sound ominous and weighty?
“Right,” said Danny.  He hesitated, then, impulsively, hugged Clockwork.  He shouldn’t have.  Clockwork was exactly the kind of monster his parents had always warned him about, and was an admitted serial kidnapper who had spied on his family and turned him into a moth.  
But he couldn’t imagine leaving without hugging Clockwork.  Just once.  
Clockwork hugged him back, with all four arms and what had to be a dozen wings.  It was the best hug he’d ever had - even if it was also the most terrifying.  
Then, Clockwork leaned down so that his lips were next to Danny’s ear.  He whispered to him a simple handful of words.  Most of them were familiar.  His name.  His full name, the one on his birth certificate, the one his parents and sister used when they were really upset with him.  But… one of them he hadn’t heard before.  Not once.  Not ever.  
It was still his name.  
He knew this with the same surety as he knew the rest of his name.  He also knew it hadn’t been his name before last night.  
It was his name… because it was Clockwork’s.  It was a family name, belonging to him as indelibly and as truly as the name ‘Fenton,’ one that bound him not only to Clockwork, but to the rest of Clockwork’s kin.  
It did more than that, too.  When Clockwork spoke his name, his true, full name, it was as if every molecule in his body had been magnetized and his name was a magnet.  He was held still by it, at perfect attention.  Whatever Clockwork wanted to say, whatever he wanted to do, Danny had no choice but compliance.  
Not that, in the moment, he wanted another choice.  
“Follow your conscience, my dear, sweet child,” said Clockwork.  “I want that for you, always.  But when you do, please…  Have a care for yourself, too.  Do not needlessly throw yourself into deadly danger.”
Danny, pinned to Clockwork’s chest, nodded.  
Clockwork, with palpable reluctance, released him, hands tracing along his cheeks before falling away.  “Be safe, Danny.”
Danny nodded again, and stepped backwards, out of the trees and into the sunlight.  He didn’t know why he felt so sad, all of a sudden.  He was going home.  He’d avoided being permanently kidnapped or eaten.  He was fine.  
He turned away.  
He was going home. 
Stay tuned for the sequel. :)
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Text
I See You ❙ G1 Soundwave x f!human reader ❙ NSFW 18+
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Word count: 2900+
Warnings: Smut ( touching and spike penatration ) some violence, angst, some depression, stalking, small possessive behaviour, stockholm syndrome and robot x human. NSFW 18+.
Notes: This took a completely different turn but I'm satsified with the results. Thank you @lonetile for your request it was a great project.
I'd like just to point out something. I've added stockholm into the warnings just to be safe. The reader wasn't harmed by canon and nothing was forced upon her. Also to add, Soundwave is using 'Mass Displacement' in this story for the smutty part.
Hope you all enjoy. 🥰
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The moment it starts raining you start to consider the possibility that the universe hates you. Of course it has to start raining on the day your car decides to die on you, and the cost to fix it was going to be the price of a whole new car. Not worth it.
You walked to work that morning when it's all sunny and clear sky, and you did think that maybe the universe is giving you a break. But no, that isn't the case.
When your shift ends it's dark, late, and heavily pouring down, the thunder rumbling above as you wait under a bus shelter to see if it might stop, which it doesn't.
Fuck you you thought.
You decide to let the rain drenched you, to ruin your already miserable mood and shitty evening and just try to get home on foot.
Why you? You are but a simple woman, trying to live her life and get by. It seems things are just going wrong for you no matter what you do or decide, and on top of all that you've got an alien robot stalker.
That's right. Out of every human on this planet, you're hand picked to be the one that is stalked no matter where you go. There have been close encounters but never any harmful attempts.
Soundwave does have a strange obsession with you. He sends either Lazerbeak or Ravage to spy on you, constantly watching your every move. You will find random little gift boxes outside your home left by him. All containing either expensive jewellery or dresses, which you'll admit to yourself were pretty, but you refused to accept.
What Soundwave is doing is creepy and he shows no sign of stopping anytime soon. He's probably watching you right now, but the rain and shitty night was enough of a distraction.
Warm tears stream down your face, mixing in with the cold rain as your shoes are soaking wet as you walk down against the wet pathway. You are so distracted in your misery you don't hear the steps coming up behind.
You're suddenly grabbed and shoved against the wall, causing a pained help to leave you. It's a man, but he's wearing a hoodie across his head, shadowing his face.
"Give me your bag! NOW!" He shouts, knife in hand as he threatens you with it. Not waiting for your answer he grabs at it, but you tug back refusing to let it go.
"No!" You can only yell back, and it becomes a tug game between you two. "Leave me alone!"
"Dumb bitch! The man shouts before backhanding you harshly, sending you falling onto the hard path. You hold on, your bag is gone, and you think the man has taken off now, but he didn't.
"What the-FUCK! Get off me!" The man now starts shouting, his pained screams and animal like growls and hisses is all you can hear.
You don't see any of it with your head hitting the hard ground and sending you into a daze. You can only slowly push yourself up under your shaky arms, sobbing silently.
It grows silent and the man manages to run away, your bag dropped right in front of you on the ground.
Your sobs start to escape your quivering lips. Your head and face is throbbing as you struggle to push yourself up. There's a shadow over you, the growls of an animal turning into purrs before feeling a cold touch against your shoulder.
Managing to turn your head you're faced with the familaur decepticon symbol and the red optics down at your level.
"Ravage?" You manage to say their name through a whimper.
The creature had been hiding in your bag, not the first time either. You remember you kind of freaked out when you first discovered you were being watched and followed, then it became so regular that you simply got used to it.
Ravage had orders to watch and protect you. When that man hurt you she acted. Pathetic human probably soiled themselves.
She comes closer towards you and nuzzles her muzzle against your face before licking your wound against your head, a way to comfort you.
You can only let out a soft gasp from the contact before pushing yourself up further from the ground and sat down with your back leaning against the wall. What a fucking night this turned out to be for you.
Ravage again nuzzles into your side and lets out a warm purr against you. Your shaky hand touches their head as a way to pet them, and she leans into your touches. This is a side you've never seen before, a tender Ravage acting like a purring house cat.
"You saved me." You manage to whisper gently between your choked sobs. "Thank you."
All you can do is hug Ravage and she didn't seem to mind, letting out more warm purrs that vibrate against her skin.
The storm above continues and shows no sign of settling down anytime soon. You hated it. You hated your life. You are so alone without anyone. No, not entirely true.
"Take me to Soundwave." You hear yourself whisper to Ravage, her helm perking up as you say this. "Please."
You don't care how, if Ravage might take you to him or bring him to you. All that matters was you needed to be with someone.
Ravage's optics flicker before she starts nuzzling into you again and placing her helm in your lap and laying down. Well, she's staying with you at least. She must've summoned her master silently.
The rain continues, of course it does, but you didn't feel completely alone with Ravage at your side. Luckily it didn't take long for a large shadow to loom over you, causing you to open your eyes and look up at the familiar figure of Soundwave.
He kneels down closer towards you and you can't help but feel your heart flutter. You're happy to see him. Should you be? Perhaps not, but you don't care.
"Ravage: Return." Soundwave's command was simply as you watch the feline transform back into her master.
You watch as hsi servo moves towards you before his digit gently grazing over your cheek, the side that wasn't sore, and your response is to lean into his touch and savour the affection he is giving you.
"Y/N." He says your name, plainly, but you watch as his visor flickers fondly down at you.
"Soundwave." You return saying his name back, teary eyes staring up at him. "Take me away from here, please." You can only manage to say to him.
He silently nods before gently scooping you up in the palm of his servo. Being lifted up did give you a bit of a head spin but this stops when he holds you close to him.
You can feel the radiating warmth through his metal, the sound of his gears that sound like purrs vibrating against your skin making you hum gently back in return.
"Oberation: Bring y/n home."
You don't know if that means your home and his home but you don't care. All that matters is that you feel safe, and that's all you need to help you slowly drift into a sleep.
When you wake up again you realise you're not in your home, but what you can only guess is the decepticons base. The softness you lay upon is nothing like anything you've felt before, so soft, silky and warm.
Sitting up you take in your surroundings and notice you're dry, wounds treated, and you wear a sky blue floral dress with puffy sleeves. Soundwave's choosing you assume, since it looks like some of the dresses he had already left for you before.
The room is small but beautifully decorated, illuminating white and blue lighting dimming around every edge with a crystal like curtain at the entrance.
Your bare feet touching the cool floor before walking over towards it, gently peeling open the delicate curtain and poking your head out to see what looks more like a room made for a transformer with a large console.
It seems he made this smaller room just for you on top of a bench top. Was he planning on bringing you here? You should feel horrified but you don't, instead you feel flattered? At least he cares you silently tells yourself. It's not like anyone else cares.
"Y/N." Hearing your name you let out a gasp only to relax quickly when you see it's only Soundwave. Guess you weren't afraid of him anymore.
"Hi." You manage to say weakly, wiping the sleep from your eyes and to clear your vision. "Was I asleep long?"
"Affirmative." He answers before leaning closer, arm hovering over as he what looks like doing a scan over you. "Body temperature has improved. Visible wounds heal over time. Negative internal damage. Query: How do you feel?"
You manage to give a soft smile. "I'm alright..."
He was quiet for a moment. "Query: How are you emotionally?" His question did surprise you a little. Is there a difference between feeling and emotions?
"I...I'm not sure." You answer honestly, not really sure what the right answer to that was. "A lot has happened."
"Affirmative." Is his response.
What is to happen now?
"Um, thank you, for the dress, and for taking care of me." You found your voice strong enough to say this.
"Beautiful." You feel his large digit gently run across the side of her hair making you blush a little from his fondness.
After a short moment of silence you manage or break it.
"Can we spend time together?" You hear yourself ask him. Might as well get used to your new home, and to Soundwave.
You don't know what to expect but you didn't expect for Soundwave to suddenly shrink down to your size. Perhaps a little bigger, but human size without a doubt.
"Affirmative."
He offers you his servo which you take fondly before he leads you back into your decorated cube. Inside he sets on some soft music, one of your favourites. Guess he already knows a lot about you. The lights dim down and you look at Soundwave, eyes widening when you notice his face mask retracting revealing a white slender mouth.
You had no idea he could do that, but it does give you positive thoughts. One of them being that you can kiss him.
Stepping closer you raise your hand up to Soundwave's face where you ghostly touch his heat plating, exploring curiously. He lets out what sounds like a groan and leans into your touch fondly, his own servo coming up over your own.
It's his digits and your fingers that tangle together as if he was your romantic significant other. You then lean up on your toes, closing the distance and kissing him.
His lips weren't what you imagined. You expect them to be hard and cold, yet they were warm and soft, very pleasant against your own.
Leaning against his chassis you deepen the kiss between you two, opening your lips and feeling his glossa slowly slip into your mouth and run along with your own tongue.
The taste almost feels intoxicating, a drug that suddenly consumes your mind and craved more of. These feelings, desires, they suddenly perk up so quickly in such a short time yet you didn't care about this, you only care about seeking more from him.
You feel his servos running across your back, down to her ass and gips gently making you moan more against the intense kiss. He moves then back up over the puffy sleeves of your dress and slips them down, tugging the dress and letting it pool around your feet.
You're not shy at all, you want this just as much as he does.
Moving back towards the bed he sits down, tugging you into his lap and moving back against the bed as it creaks under his weight and presses his back against the wall with you still straddling him.
Your kisses grew more desperate, hungry for more. You couldn't get enough. Your breasts press up against him, perky nipples swollen hard as his servos roam skillfully against your sensitive skin.
Soundwave moves from your lips, making you pout, but is soon followed by a moan as you feel him at your neck. He kisses your skin and licks hard with his glossa, dentas gently biting as if he wants to mark you.
You're fine with that.
Letting out another moan of pleasure you find yourself grinding down against Soundwave, feeling his heated pannel against your bare mound and clit skipping across him, sending jolts of desire through your growing arousal.
You want to fuck him.
"Soundwave, please." You plead as you hump against him, whimpering as you feel his digits dig into your hips, holding you as you rock against him. "I want you to fill me."
You can feel him shiver hearing your words. There's a sound below you, and before you can look you feel something thick and long rising up against your belly.
You only guessed he was already big, but not this thick! You can't help but gasp from the sight of him, so beautiful and throbbing, aching for attention.
Moving your hand you give his cable a few gentle pumps, looking into his long visor as it flashes brightly as he moans, and that's when you notice small dimmed orbs behind the visor. He has optics?
You did wonder if the visor could retract like his mouth guard, but this question does vanish quickly when you feel his digit entering your core and stretching your already wet depths.
You can't help but hump his servo gently, riding his digit as you pump his thick cable in your palm, letting out heated moans into the air with your arms wrapped around his neck.
Soundwave couldn't wait anymore and removes his digit from you, another pout visible, only to be replaced with a surprised gasp when you feel him suddenly position himself and have you sink down on his throbbing cable.
His thickness stretches you, a little painfully, since you've never had another quite this big before. He senses this and stops, using his servos to gently rub against your body as if he was trying to sooth you and give you time to adjust around him.
You reward him with a loving kiss, silently thanking him for giving her a moment before you push down all the way on him. His entire length is in you and you feel every pulse of his rigid cable along your depths.
Keeping a balance you place your hands over his shoulder plating and slowly rising up, gasping as you feel everything before sinking down again, keeping a slowly rhythm as your ride his cable.
Soundwave moves his servos across your ass, gently holding and guiding you against him, face buried against your breasts as he kisses and licks at them, enjoying the way you rub and arch against him.
Moving into a better angle your clit grinds into his heated plating as you rock you waist, swirling skillfully so you can feel every ridge and pulse right against your g-spot, clenching around him as you let out heated pants and lingering moans.
Hearing his moans increase only sent shivers through your quivering body, servo and digts holding into your skin as he leaves hickeys all over your breasts, his hips moving up into you in sync with your own movements.
This should be wrong, but nothing felt wrong. In fact it felt completely right as if it was meant to happen. Perhaps it was, and that's all you need to tell yourself to keep going, no doubt and embracing the growing pleasure that builds between you two.
You knew you won't last too much longer like this, but also knew you'll both have plenty of chances to explore and fuck one another. You doubt you'll be leaving Soundwave, because you don't want to.
"Soundwave, Soundwave...." You chant his name as you feel yourself tightening around his tick cable, a burning desire that's about to erupt in you.
"Y/N." He repeats your name, his heated plating growing hotter against you, vibrations coming from him that shakes through your body, bringing you closer to the edge. "Mine."
"Yours." You can only answer back, grinding and humping him harder before you allow yourself to fall apart and cum around him, still moving to help bring him closer.
This doesn't go on too much longer as he suddenly thrusts up into you firmly a couple of times before you feel his fluids soak your twitching depths. He stills but lingers within, holding you as you both savour the intense orgasm you both share.
You feel some of his fluids leak out as if your body wasn't able to hold onto it, mixed with your own juices as you keep yourself settled on him, tired whimpers escaping from you as you shift your hips a little, teasing him further. He likes it.
After a time he moves himself, removing from you and you feel so empty with him. He lays down and lays you with him, tugging the silk sheet up across your body and making sure you are comfortable.
He'll always take care of you.
Shifting closer I nuzzle your face into Soundwave's neck with your arms wrapping fondly around him, holding him. You never wanted to let go.
"You're safe." Soundwave whispers as his digits ghostly brush over your shoulder and arm.
"Thank you." You whisper back before falling into a deep sleep, feeling more safety and love like never before.
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strayed-quokka · 2 years
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sex is overrated || ji changmin
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» summary: you knew what you liked in the bedroom but men never seemed to take a hint. maybe it was your fault. or maybe they were just really fucking vanilla. nevertheless, your best friend is determined to prove to you that he knows exactly how to make a girl come, and you're no exception.
» pairing: ji changmin x female reader
» rating: NC-17 minors please do not interact with this work
» genre: best friends to lovers, ruin the friendship, smut, porn with some plot, a little fluff
» warnings: where to begin... dom changmin, sub reader, changmin is massive, fingering, oral (f & m), rough sex, face sitting, deep throating, squirting, spanking, spitting, unprotected sex, chocking, restraints (pink handcuffs hello whisper), face fucking, hair pulling, slight dacryphilia if you squint (?), degradation, a nude photo, marking, biting, scratching, mild bruising, creampie, changmin is an aftercare king though... i think i got it all but will double check.
» words: 5,051
» a/n: whisper. that’s it. also probably the filthiest thing i've ever written so i'm going to pour some holy water now and pg-13 my eyes a little... feedback and comments are greatly appreciated x
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Sex was always exaggerated pleasure. 
At least sex was never any good. Not good enough to justify laying naked in a stranger's bed before leaving early in the morning to go home. You weren’t sure if maybe there was something wrong with you, but they just all seemed to be so pathetically vanilla. 
“You look fucking miserable, jesus christ,” your best friend since a particularly terrible high school party a few years ago, Changmin, scowls at you, his hair unbrushed on his head and his eyes still tired. It’s surprising that he’s even awake. 
“I am miserable, Minnie,” he grimaces, grabbing another mug from the endless ones you both have (it may have something to do with your need to buy a disney themed one every time you see one), pouring you an extra large cup of black coffee. 
“I’m sorry angel,” he pouts, and you gratefully take the scolding beverage from him before adding some milk.
“Why are men so shit in bed? Why is sex so overrated?” the platinum blond young man seems unfazed at first, given that you’ve probably asked him this at least once every two weeks for the past year. He was used to it, and every time he could only offer the same few solutions. Tell them what they want, and trial and error it. It was never a one size fits all.
You knew that, but you were also impatient and in your sexual prime, and no one was satisfying you. You couldn’t remember when you’d last had an orgasm that you didn’t bring on yourself. Anyway, here you sit against the kitchen island with disappointment pulling all your features down, and your best friend sighs, “go shower. We can talk about it after.”
You listen to him. Changmin was probably the only man on this entire planet that you rarely if ever argued with. He just understood you, sometimes it made you even wonder if he read your journal, because how the hell did he just get it?
“Minnie, can I ask you a question?” you ask, brushing through your wet hair as the man looks at you when you come back into the room refreshed. You’re wearing his shirt again, legs bare, and he wishes he wasn’t so perfectly willing to give them all to you as if they belonged in your wardrobe more than in his. 
“Sure,” you put the brush down, thinking the question over in your mind before deciding to ask it anyway.
“Do you think you’re good in bed?”
It was probably the worst moment in time for Changmin to take a sip of his coffee, for now he was left choking and coughing horrifically while you reached around to pat his back. He was trying to remember in his mind if you’d ever asked him a question quite like this, but quickly determined that this may’ve been the boldest thing he’d ever been asked by you. 
It’s not that Changmin necessarily kept his sex life a secret from you, nor did you keep yours hidden, but you’d never directly asked him if he actually thought he was any good. 
“Are you asking me in hopes I say yes so you don’t entirely give up on your sexcapades?” 
You huff, crossing your arms as you lean against the counter across from him, “at least tell me you know how to make a girl come. That’s enough for me.”
He doesn’t know if the temperature in the room has risen or if he’s just warmer, but the vulgarity in which you ask makes him feel weaker. That being said, he liked to believe that he could confidently tell you that he could, and that it wouldn’t be a lie, “Are you telling me you’ve never once heard me had sex?”
Now it’s your turn to blush, turning your head away from him to stare at the wall ahead, “I mean… I wasn’t going to say it and embarrass you.” 
He likes this push and pull, the teasing nature that your question brought, and there’s something about you becoming more shy that makes him more confident, “you tell me then.”
He got you there. Not only had you heard some of the girls he’d been with, but they’d been more than vocal. Honestly, you couldn’t imagine ever being that loud, but then again, no one ever did anything that made you feel the need to scream.
“I have another question,” you start, and he nods as his lips turn upward into a grin, his deep dimples on full display for you. He’s nothing short of charming and sweet.
“You’re full of those today, aren’t you?”
“You sure they never faked it?”
Changmin can remember the few times he’s been rendered speechless, but none even came close to the way he falters now. He guesses there wasn’t ever a way of truly knowing, but it had been a long time since he felt like a girl wasn’t genuine with him. Honestly, the last time was probably back when he was still incredibly inexperienced. 
“Want to find out for yourself?” it’s an invitation that he doesn’t quite realise he’s given before it’s already too late, but he’s grateful that his voice always holds a hint of teasing so that if you completely turned away in disgust, he could somehow get away with it being a joke.
Both of you stand there silently, and Changmin is close to apologising for maybe crossing a line with you, but you cut him off first. 
“Okay,” he thinks he’s going crazy, like he’s hallucinating and losing his mind, but you don’t seem to back down, “but we should lay some ground rules first.”
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Changmin didn’t know what he’d done in his life that resulted in him sat across from you at the dinner table with a notebook in front of him and a blue pen in hand writing down a list of what the two of you should be in agreement with before you’d have sex.
It sounded ridiculous, but he guessed this is how most friendships fell apart. There was always a risk involved. 
“Alright, let me see it,” he turns the notebook around towards you, and you read it all outloud one by one, pausing in-between to see if he has any objections or anything to add.
“If one of us feels uncomfortable we stop, no questions asked. If one of us catches feelings, we stop with no ill will and we won’t talk about it unless the person is okay with it. Traffic light system if ever necessary with tapping system if…” you pause, swallowing, “if traffic system can’t be used.”
Honestly, it makes you wonder what the hell you two may get up to, and it definitely makes you wonder if you should really be doing this. Changmin seems to see it too, the way you hesitate, “we don’t have to-”
“I know,” but you want to, “Minnie?”
“Hmm?”
“You remember what I like, right?”
“I mean… I know what you complain about when you come home unsatisfied, if that’s what you’re on about,” you nod, looking at the way his face illuminates with the dimmed light in the room. He’s beautiful. You've always thought it, but never had it been more than surface level admiration.
“Alright so…” this doesn’t feel natural. Maybe you need alcohol, but you also don’t want it to intoxicate your mind and hinder coherent thoughts. You just don’t know how to go about this. 
Changmin stands up, his chair dragging along the wooden floor when he does, “I mean… you’re free now, right?” 
It makes you laugh, getting up to briefly put your long empty mug in the sink before you jump up on the counter. His shirt rises with your movements and he moves closer to you instantly, already asking the next question, “can I kiss you?”
“Yeah,” he waits an agonisingly long time before his eyes flutter closed and his lips fall onto yours, but it’s enough to make you wonder why the hell you both took so long to do this. He’s good at kissing you, quick with changing pace so that you don’t get bored and rough with his hands on your body. It’s exactly what you’d want, and you wonder if maybe Changmin paid even more attention to the things you’d carelessly said in the past than you thought. 
You moan against his lips, and he slips his tongue into your mouth and roughly tugs at your hair, pulling you closer to the edge of the counter as your legs part for him to stand between. It drives you wild, and you feel just a little pathetic with how good you feel from something as simple as a kiss.
“You have no idea what you’ve done,” he pants against your lips, pushing the fabric you’re wearing up above your hips, your lace black panties in full view for him and the man nearly falls to his knees for you then. There’s something about you that works similarly to a drug, and he can’t wait another second before he strips your (well, his), shirt off and throws it to the floor. 
“Fuck,” he’s eyeing you hungrily, and normally such a gaze at your bare body may leave you wanting to cover up. But the way Changmin looks at you is so desperate and hungry that you blurt out the next words before you’ve thought of it. 
“Take a picture,” he can’t believe his luck, nor does he know what galaxy he saved in another life, but he’s practically tearing his phone from his pocket and fumbling to unlock it, nearly dropping it in the process. 
“Are you sure?” 
“Yes, Changmin. I’m sure,” it’s all the reassurance he needs, and the image he takes is enough to make his cock hard and strain against his sweatpants painfully. He throws his phone to the side, pulling his own shirt over his head and your mouth nearly waters at the sight you’re met with.
“Minnie…” you drag his name out in a whine, and he’s pulling you to your feet and practically shoving you down onto your knees in an instant before him. 
“Yes, angel?” it’s a mocking tone, but the very way he speaks to you causes your pussy to clench and your underwear to cling to your folds. The fabric teases your clit when you move and the stimulation makes you quiver. 
“Look at you, are you that weak?” you whine, licking the prominent v-line along his muscular stomach, before dipping your tongue beneath the fabric of his sweats. The blissful curses that leave his mouth and the grip he has on the back of your head is enough for you to pull the grey offending trousers down, his cock springing free.
“F-fuck,” maybe you were slowly starting to understand why girls were so loud with him. His cock was easily the biggest you’d ever seen, even to the point where you maybe thought that it was too much. Not only was the length impressive, but it was thick, enough that you struggled to wrap your hand around the base. 
“Are you dumb off seeing my cock already? Haven’t even fucked you yet,” it was degrading maybe, to have him insult you, but you wanted him to. His words turned you on, and you stick your tongue out and place the head of his cock in your mouth. 
You feel him grip a handful of hair, creating a makeshift ponytail as he steadies your head, your tongue lapping up his pre-cum and circling around the tip before you slowly try to ease him further into your mouth.
“Angel, you’re pathetic if that’s all you can take,” honestly, you’re inclined to agree. You’re barely halfway and your jaw already feels tense and your mouth feels full, but you try to relax and angle yourself slightly so that his cock pushes into your throat, “good girl.”
You cough, choking on your own spit and his cock but he keeps your head locked in place as tears spring to your eyes. It’s almost too much, but Changmin isn’t that cruel. He knows it and releases your head from his grip right after, allowing you to breathe. 
“I want you to fuck my mouth,” he’s stunned into silence at first. Truly, he’d never met a girl so eager to have his cock in her mouth, but who is he to say no?
“Oh… was that not too much for you… hmm?” 
“I’ll tap you three times if it is,” a pause, and then you look up at him, “I promise.”
He knows you’ll hold yourself to it. Even if he’d never experienced you sexually, he knows that you don’t go above your limits, so he trusts that you’ll let him know if you can’t take it. 
“Open your mouth,” you obey eagerly, knees pushing further apart, and he’s pulling your hair and yanking your head back so you look up at him before he spits in your mouth.
Fuck, he even remembered that.
He guides your mouth back to his cock, and you angle yourself again to push him deeper down your throat. You stop when you gag, and he only pulls back just enough to stop you from choking. He’s still at first, as if studying your reaction, before he starts to move. 
Changmin is relentless. Once he decides a certain pace, then that’s the way he’s going. He fucks your throat completely dry, and you only manage to get air for the second he spends pulling out of you before his cock stuffs you full again. Tears fall from your eyes and you moan, causing vibrations to hit his cock that only urge him on while you claw at his skin by his hips, trying to hold on to anything so you don’t fall over, scratching him until red angry marks taint his otherwise perfect skin. 
“You’re gonna swallow all of my cum, aren’t you baby?” you whimper, feeling his cock twitch before he stills, holding your head in place as his cum shoots down your throat. You savour every drop, falling into his arms as he pulls you up to your feet and then up onto his waist, “you good?”
“Y-yes,” you clear your throat, letting him carry you over to his bedroom before he sits down on the edge, shuffling around with you on top of him. Your clothed pussy rubs against him and it makes you shake, even more when you realise that he’s pushing your body further up, “do you need a break?”
“No,” he nods, resting his head on a pillow whilst you straddle his chest. You think you have a minute to breathe, but then his hands grip your ass and forcefully drag you up until your clothed cunt is hovering right over his mouth. 
“Min-”
“Hmm?” he kisses your thigh, and you nearly debate telling him that he doesn’t have to make you come. That you believe him when he says he knows exactly how to pleasure someone. Yet you’re convinced you’ll never get the mental image of him between your thighs out of your mind any time soon, and you’ll be damned if you let this go. 
“Fuck, I didn’t know you were so wet,” he chuckles, kneading your ass as he leans up and kisses your clothed folds. Your entire body trembles, and you wonder if you may have an orgasm right then, “all because of my cock in your mouth, hmm?” 
“Y-yes,” he pushes the fabric to the side, licking up your juices like he’s starved off the taste of you, and you feel your wetness drip onto his lips. You’re a moaning mess above him, only made louder when he spanks your ass. 
“You’re such a slut, hmm?” you want to agree, but just as you’re about to, his tongue finds your clit and you lose it, pushing down enough to wonder if you’re suffocating him between your legs. If you are, Changmin doesn’t mind, for he keeps the rigorous pace and only occasionally stops when the fabric of your underwear slips back into place. 
He growls, dissatisfied, and eventually he grips both ends of the flimsy fabric and tears it in half. Every movement he makes feels so messy and hungry, but you know everything is perfectly calculated. 
His ring finger teases your entrance while his tongue is still teasing your clit, lightly sucking the flesh, and you definitely know he’s calculating everything when he pushes his finger into you just as he lightly bites down on the bundle of nerves. 
“Changmin!” it’s rare, almost never, that you use his full name. Usually it’s when you’re angry, but in this case, it’s because you’ve lost most ability to think and say the first thing that comes to your mind. 
“God, look how you clench around my finger,” he swears he sees stars with how tight you are, pushing another finger inside you to slowly open you up enough for his cock, his rings cooling against your heat. A string of curses fall from his lips, knowing it’ll likely require some patience if you’re already clenching around something so small. 
“F-fuck,” you rock your hips against him, and he uses his free hand to press your thighs down, holding them in place as he laps his tongue back over your folds to where his fingers scissor you open, before running up to your clit. There’s a familiar coil in your stomach, but it grows all too quickly and without any warning while you desperately struggle against his harsh grip on your legs and his eagerness to taste you, “Chan- ahh.”
You briefly wonder if you may pass out, your entire body rising up though he moves with you, not once letting his fingers move even an inch out of you as he feels you convulse and shake above him. 
It takes him another second to realise that you’ve squirted on his chest and up along his collarbone and neck when you rose up, and your cheeks go incredibly crimson when you realise that you’ve left him a complete mess. But to him, he’s never felt more accomplished in his life, “fuck, you’re doing that again.”
His fingers slip out of you, and he’s incredibly gentle when he lets you lay there to recollect your breathing and become aware of your surroundings again. You could safely say that not only could he make a girl come, but he’d given you the most intense orgasm of your life. 
“Can I restrain you?” 
The question catches you by surprise at first, and it takes pathetically long for you to react at first, “what for?” 
“When I fuck you,” your eyes open, and there he is, sweating, still glistening slightly from your own orgasm, cock fully erect and dimples showing as he smiles. 
He looks ethereal. 
“Unless you’d rather stop for today? If it’s too much-”
“No! No, please don’t stop,” he chuckles, amusement dancing in his eyes while he reaches over and kneads your ass cheeks again, occasionally offering a light spank that causes your body to ripple against the mattress, moans leaving your lips. 
You may lose your voice at this rate. 
“So… can I?” You think about it for a second, before ultimately nodding and deciding it’s something you’d like to try. 
“How do you want me?” 
“God, you can’t just say that. I might die,” you laugh, at least happy to know that you affect him just as much as he affects you. 
“But to answer the question…” he comes up behind you, chest pressing into your back as his cock grazes against your ass, making you subconsciously push against him, “I’d like you just like this.”
He adjusts the pillow, ensuring that your head is well rested if your hands are going to be bound against your back, limiting the amount of support you can give yourself. What shocks you the most is how the handcuffs he’d fished from his nightstand are not only a bright pink, but shaped like a heart, “didn’t take you as someone who’d have that.”
“Chanhee bought it as a joke. Don’t think he’d assume I’d actually use it,” you chuckle, briefly thinking of your friend who really probably didn’t think much of it (or maybe he did know), whilst Changmin restrains your wrists and tightens the metal, “too much?”
“No… but not tighter, please?” Changmin obeys, doesn’t push where he feels like he shouldn’t and instead pushes your knees apart, your pussy coated in your juices and now in full view for him as he’d stripped you off your last item of clothing.
An item that you could honestly throw away. 
“Just tell me if you want me to free you,” but you don’t think you’ll want him to. Something about giving him complete control over you whilst he fucks you from behind makes you question your sanity, because you feel like you’ve never wanted anything else more. 
The tip of his bare cock teases your entrance and you whimper, especially when he stills “can I fuck you raw?” 
“Yes,” you'd expected an internal debate in your mind that never comes. You always used condoms. Hell, you couldn’t remember when you last didn’t, but you wanted to feel every inch of his cock inside you and suddenly that internal thought process didn’t matter. You were on birth control anyway. 
“You’re going to kill me,” he slowly pushes his cock inside your sopping cunt, groaning at how tight you feel. He was going to have to take it inch by inch, quite literally, and the very thought was agonising to him. 
“F-fuck… you don’t fit,” you’re laughing, and at least knowing that you’re amused has him relaxing from the thought of thinking he was causing you pain. He laughs with you, but it’s quickly lost as he pushes himself deeper inside you, the sound strangled in his throat, “oh my god.”
“You still have a bit more than half, you know?” 
“Shut up, there’s no w- mhmm,” he shuts you up with a rather deep push of his hips, splitting you open around his shaft, “now it’s about half.”
He’s teasing you again, but it’s so incredibly hot that you don’t care. You’re convinced that Changmin is the sexiest man in the world with the way he’s set on fucking you stupid.
It’s never taken you this long to adjust to someone’s length and girth, but it’s a good few more minutes of Changmin pushing a little more every time until your ass finally meets his hips, “god, look at you. You’re drooling.”
He chuckles, and you realise he’s right, moaning as you feel yourself clench around him unintentionally. He really has you forget all coherent thought, completely unaware of your own reactions “you can move.”
The platinum blond does not need to be told more than once. He’s been waiting to move, been desperate to, as he moves in slow and languid thrusts, like he needs you to feel every inch of his cock inside you, “mhmm, more.”
“Already? Can you take it?” You nod, feeling him hold your head down against the pillow, his other hand gripping your hip hard enough to bruise as he quickens his pace. You cry out his name almost instantly, screaming it over and over from the pleasure you feel, though it’s partially muffled. 
“How good you take my cock.”
“Y-yes,” you stutter, feeling a sharp sting to your ass, but before you have time to respond, he’s taken the same hand he used to pull you up by the handcuffs that bind your wrists, your back twisted while he grips your hair and pulls you back into his shoulder, “h-harder.”
“Still?” he groans, obliging as he quickened his pace, his other free hand going around your waist and to your stomach, and he swears he can feel his cock inside you with every thrust, “mhmm fuck… I can feel my cock inside you.”
“Fuck... oh fuck, C-Changmin!” you wish your hands were free so you could touch him, but instead you have to rely on him to hold you up as he roughly pounds into you with no remorse. The pleasure becomes overbearing, but it’s brought to its peak when he dares test the waters with something you’d only mentioned once as something you wanted to try. 
His hand that had been gripping your hair snakes around your throat, and at first he only squeezes lightly to see how you respond, if he should stop or keep going. 
“C-Changmin! G-god. Please,” you whimper, tears falling from your eyes once again from the pleasure and he grins, biting down on your shoulder. 
“Whore,” he groans, tightening the hand he has around your neck just slightly as he breathes into your ear, his grip enough to cause the oxygen in your brain to short circuit but not enough to make you feel in pain or like you’re in danger. 
If your hands were free, you honestly think you’d make him grip you harder, and you know you’re about to fall over the edge.
It’s your inability to freely move and the way he holds you in place exactly the way he wants you with his cock deep inside you that makes you scream his name one more time, so loud that you'd be more surprised if the neighbours didn't hear it, your entire body shaking and clenching on his cock as you mess the sheets with your orgasm. 
It’s the stimulation around his cock and the tightness that makes him lose control, and a mangled cry of your name leaves his lips when his cum spills into you, coating your walls and leaving you to collapse as he loses his strength to hold you, pleasured groans falling from his chapped lips.
You fall onto the bed, hands still bound behind your back with Changmin falling right next to you. Neither of you say anything, but both your heavy breaths are loud in the room as you try to collect yourself. 
“We should shower,” you whine as a response, because you honestly don’t think you can move. Changmin doesn’t think he can either, but there’s no way he’s letting you lay in the mess you made with his cum still spilling out of you. 
As absolutely feral and possessive as that makes him. 
Your best friend unbinds the pink cuffs keeping your wrists together, wincing slightly as he sees how harshly you tugged at it even with the room he’d left. He brings them both to his lips, kissing the faint bruising as an apology falls from his mouth, but you don’t want him to be sorry.
“Please, if you dare apologise for the best sex of my life, I’ll kill you,” he chuckles, and you reach out lazily to poke his dimples, smiling when he squirms. 
“I’ll get you ice at least,” he finally gets up, and while the muscles in his body scream at him, he lifts you up into his arms and into the bathroom, setting you down in the tiled shower whilst adjusting the temperature of the water. 
“Wait here,” you nod, sat on the tiled floor in the shower as the water falls onto you, though you find it quite comfortable. Changmin comes back not long after, a few ice cubes wrapped around a towel that he holds to your wrist, kissing your forehead softly while brushing through your knotted hair. He’s completely different now, caring for you, and your heart swells in affection for him. 
“Can I wash you?” you nod, and you sit there with him whilst he rubs your body wash over your skin and then his own, making sure you’re both clean and taking his time as he does. He winces at the faint bruising on your hip and around your shoulder where he’d bitten your skin, but you glare at him, reminding him not to think about it. 
“Don’t pout about it,” you remind him, and he nods as he slowly begins to massage your scalp with your conditioner. 
He cares for you so much, and you’ve never felt it more than now, still trying to recollect your thoughts while he ensures you’re okay even when his own exhaustion is threatening to have him pass out on you. 
He even makes the bed for you both while you just sit and wait, fluffing the pillows for him, dressed in a new shirt of his while he's just adorning a pair of black boxers, and when he reaches for you to fall into his arms, you’re more than happy to. 
You think with how you’re spent, you’d fall asleep in an instant, but instead you lazily brush Changmin’s hair from his forehead and kiss his shoulder. He lets you do whatever you want, watching you with a deep adoration and love, but it doesn’t scare you. 
It doesn’t scare you, because you know when you look at him, it wasn’t just you who’d failed at keeping your feelings away. 
“I love you,” he’s surprised to hear you say it first, but the warmth in his chest and the smile that threatens to slip just make you want to say it again and again. 
“I love you too,” you nestle into his shoulder, still lazily playing with his hair while one of his hands hovers over your thigh, the other behind your back, and you don’t think you’ve ever felt so content. 
“Also… next time, I’ll be the one leaving bruises,” Changmin laughs, and it’s a sound that brings you complete peace. 
“I’m holding you to that but..." he pushes the fabric of his boxers down past his hipbone, revealing aggressive red marks that you barely remember leaving. There's a silence first, before you lean close and kiss the broken skin, "oh, please don't do that. I'll want to ruin you again."
You oblige. As desirable as the thought is, you're both tired, and you lay there silently for a few more minutes until he breaks it to ask you a question that's been on his mind since your first orgasm, "still think sex is overrated?"
You throw a pillow right onto his smug face as your answer.
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well... i wrote that... i actually can't believe the ideas in my brain sometimes. also the resitance to switch it to another member because i'm weak for them??? guess we writing more boyz ✌️🥵
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2K notes · View notes
orangeinecstasy · 9 months
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one word ࿐ ࿔*:・゚robert keating
✧: part two
paring: robert x fem!oc
summery: some times luck is on your side, and kate just happens to find this out after her show.
a/n: hey everyone! so i originally uploaded these to wattpad, but i wanted to have a bit of a platform change. please let me know what you guys think. my requests are currently open so pleas feel free to send in an idea you have. enjoy!
wc: > 1k
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*reblogs, likes, and feedback are greatly appreciated!!
My ears ring as I feel the final vibrations of our last song melt from my drumsticks down into my arms. It's like I'm on another planet. Then, as my breath steadies, my vision becomes clearer.
I stand, walking to the front of the stage and slipping my sticks into the back pocket of my baggy jeans before taking my band members' hands into my own. Yes, we recognize that this is slightly fancier, but the girls and I have always done it. Letting the energy between us flow as we bow. Once our hands unclasp, my smile grows more prominent as I reach into my back pocket, splitting my sticks from their usual pair and throwing them to the people closest in the crowd. Finally, my fingertips touch my lips as I give the crowd a 'goodbye kiss' before I finally exit the stage.
"Tonight was fucking amazing!" Willow, the band's bassist, says as she throws herself on the couch, hands pushing her hair back as a small chuckle leaves her lips. Kira, our lead singer, takes Willow's and I's hands as she speaks, "Yeah, who knew that so many people would want to see four girls going by The Honeysuckles. I'm so proud of us."
Ahh, The Honeysuckles. My band. My first love. I remember when the three of us picked out that name. We were sixteen, determined to become a band. To make it. We would always ramble, bad name after bad name until we ended on The Honeysuckles. It's so funny how one word can significantly impact your life—one silly little word.
"I say it's time to go out for drinks!" Fawn, our final member and lead guitarist, says as she sets her guitar in its case.
The rest of us nod in agreement as we pack our things. It was always a band tradition for us to go out after a good show. So once we were all packed up, we headed out to a nearby pub.
It was a beautiful early spring night in Dublin. The cobblestone streets were wet with dew. Our boots gently clicked down it, music and chatter spilling out of restaurants dotted along the street. After a couple of minutes of walking, we finally reached the pub.
"I'll go get us some drinks if you guys find a table," I yell slightly, having to talk over the crowd's chatter already in the small pub. The girls nod, saying a quick "see you soon" before splitting off from me.
Slipping my jacket off, I walk up to the bar, turning my horseshoe ring located on my pinky finger. It was a nervous habit I had picked up once I started wearing it. However, there was something about it that always seemed to make me feel comforted - even in the most stressful situations.
After a moment, the bartender approached me, "Four Guinness, please," I smiled, still twisting my ring. Once they stepped away to fill my order, I looked around, trying to fill the time between waiting and being able to get drunk. That's when something caught my eye. A hand sat next to me on the counter with a similar yet slightly larger horseshoe ring on their pinky finger.
"Holy shit!" laughing to myself, I gently tap the person's shoulder. Once they turned around, I was met with the most piercing blue eyes I have ever seen that put me in a slight trance that the other had to snap me out of.
"Uh, yeah?" he says, blue eyes staring intensely into mine, his hand with the horseshoe ring now wrapped around his dark, half-empty glass of Guinness.
"Oh, sorry," a nervous chuckle slipped through my berry-stained lips. "I just wanted to say that you have good taste" As I speak, I hold up my hand, showing the blue-eyed boy my almost matching ring. "Oh my fucking god, that's crazy!" laughing, he holds his hand next to mine, eyes darting between the two rings. "I never would've thought I'd meet someone with the same ring as me." He smiles, eyes meeting mine once again as a gentle flush presents itself on his cheeks. "Hey, Great minds think alike! I'm Kate. It's nice to meet you" I hold out my ring hand, which he takes in his own, shaking it gently.
"Robert," he smiles.
It's so interesting how one word can impact your life—one silly little word.
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silentwillowwhisperer · 11 months
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Jackets
Keith knows his jacket is bound to get ruined at some point during this chaotic war.
But hurts seeing the red material that has provided him comfort for so many years in tatters. All he can think of is blurry images of his dad wearing it, telling a younger version of Keith that someday he'll be as cool as his dad and wear cropped jackets.
It's all Keith really has left of his dad, so he can't help it when a tear slips down his cheek.
It's almost funny, really. All his hard work trying to seem emotionless to the other paladins only to flee the room in tears because of a stupid jacket.
He's hiding in the observatory, nestled against the wall in a dark corner. He spends a lot of time in here, so there's a few pillows and blankets already piled around him.
He's shaken from his thoughts by a soft knock on the door.
Well, there isn't really a door to the observatory, but there's a knock on the metal archway that serves as the entrance.
He stays absolutely silent (apart from the occasional sniffle) and hopes that it's just Shiro, and that he'll leave Keith alone.
"Um, hey, Keith? Bud? Are you... in here? You kinda ran out of there and... are you alright? Should I leave? Oh, dang it, this is stupid, I should leave. But can you at least confirm your existence so that I can tell Shiro that you're not missing?"
Keith inwardly groans. There's only one paladin who rambles like that, and he knows that Lance isn't likely to just leave once he hears the teary crack in Keith's voice.
So he quiet until Lance walks over to his pity nest (yes, that's what Keith is officially calling it, It's literally a nest that he built, he blames that on his Galra instincts) and sits down next to him.
"So... I knew that you have horrible fashion sense, but it's clearly worse than I thought if you're this upset about the jacket. If you want, we can go to the space mall and get you a jacket that will actually.. you know, keep you warm?"
Keith can feel the next wave of tears coming on. Desperately fighting them back, he whispers, "No. You can't r-replace it. It was my dad's. He's not here anymore."
He winces when he hears the wet crackle in his voice, it's clear that he's been sobbing.
Lance looks over at him with something in his eyes that Keith doesn't recognise.
"Oh. He's dead then?"
The way Lance says it is so matter-of-fact that Keith wants to scream.
"Yes! He's gone, and I'm alone! Are you happy now? Just go away. You clearly don't care about me, and you're right, the jacket is dumb. Do me a favor and throw it out while you go."
The guilt that flashes on Lance's face is almost enough for Keith to apologize, but he doesn't. Lance already knows what he's like, and if you mess with fire, you get burned.
Wordlessly, Lance starts to shrug of his own olivey green-brown jacket. Once it's off, he holds it out to Keith with a sheepish frown and diverted eyes.
"That was insensitive. I shouldn't have acted like that about your dad or the jacket. You can have mine, though. It used to be my older sister's, but once we get back to Earth I can just ask her for another."
Lance sounds so sure, so certain that they will make it back. Keith wishes he had even a fraction of that blind confidence. But then again, even if they do make it back, he has nothing waiting for him on his home planet. Nothing but a whole lot of pain.
Keith stares into Lance's steady blue eyes. Why the sudden show of empathy? All they ever do is argue, Keith knows that he's hardly Lance's favorite paladin. They're barely even friends.
"That's not true. We are friends. Or at least... we could be. "
Dammit. Keith must have said that aloud.
He reaches out hesitantly and takes the jacket. When he slides it on, the sleeves flop over his hands, and it swallows him whole. He glares at Lance when he hears a small snicker.
However, despite the size, it's comfortable and warm, and it kind of maybe smells nice. (And it's possible that he likes the bigness.)
He glances over at Lance to see the other boy blushing.
"Thank you. I... words are weird, but... I- thanks."
Keith flushes red across his cheeks and at the tips of his ears and looks down at the ground quickly.
"It's warmer than my old one."
Lance smiles warmly, and to Keith's surprise, shifts closer to wrap an arm around him. Keith doesn't know how, but they've maneuvered to that he's very slightly on Lance's lap, and annoyingly enough, it's quite comfortable.
He leans his head back onto Lance's chest and feels the other paladin chuckle softly, making his chest rumble a bit.
They don't talk after that, they don't have to. They just sit together and stare up at the stars visible through the observatory's glass roof, feeling tiny and so, so huge at the same time.
Keith is attached to that jacket now and wears it absolutely everywhere, but that doesn't mean anything! It's a nice jacket! (That still smells like Lance...)
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dadr0ckmusic · 2 years
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stranger things headcanons because i said so (fruity four + billy)
basically them in my dr
steve harrington
does restaurant challenges unironically. like he has to eat a big wet daddy burger in an hour just for a plaque on the wall and a pic with the owner smh
calls his car babygirl
modern au where he texts the girl he likes at 1:11, 2:22, etc just to get her hopes up
loves madonna. you can't tell me otherwise
he does yoga. and if you catch him he'll threaten your life
calls his house 'the love shack'
if you were just becoming friends with him he would listen to your music or do your hobbies with you just to make you happy
would totally rock out to stacy's mom
he gives off lactose intolerant vibes. i do not make the rules.
would definitely have playlists called "alt songs that make you drink monster" or "sad vibes" or "coronavirus got me like"
would've fucking KILLED on grindr
would love twilight. he's on team jacob
laughs at minion memes
robin buckley
the literal queen of your mom jokes
she would totally say "who up wonking they willy rn"
would work at spencer's
she had a ton of hamsters that died the most traumatic deaths when she was a kid and they're all buried in her backyard
loooves poop and fart jokes
she still sleeps with the same stuffed bear she had when she was little (and we are NOT judging)
says "oh my goodness gracious" at the funniest possible times
would literally FUCK at rainbow loom
her childhood room was purple and steve picks on her for it
cannot use chopsticks to save her life
one time steve made her mad so she literally WENT OFF THE GRID and he didn't see her for a whole week and he was freaking the fuck out
was a bug girl. worms? fuck yeah. roly polys? best buds. what the fuck is that thing? it has a terrarium now.
literally is the most caring person on the planet. she's always worrying about you and what you're feeling and what you're doing
only eats the marshmallows out of lucky charms
is scared of bees
billy hargrove
he bakes. he bakes cookies, cupcakes, you name it. if you ever catch him he's FORCING you to taste whatever he's making
an AVID reader. he's got books all over his room, stolen library books in the glove box of his car, and he's reading the hawkins post every morning no matter what
his mom taught him how to sew. lets say after a mishap with the whole 'different dimension' thing, you're bummed cause you got a hole in your favorite shirt. billy would be like "i can fix it for you" and you're like "what??" but he just gets mad and goes "just give me the fucking shirt" and then the next day he's bringing it to you good as new
hates cooked carrots
can fall asleep anywhere. couch, car, at a party, you name it. he will find a spot to fall asleep
he was actually very interested in supernatural stuff when he was younger. and then when max started telling him about everything billy was like "wait. i read this about... blah blah blah" and max is just so surprised
he can totally make a mean cocktail. you want a pina colada? whipped up in seconds. craving a margarita? he's got the salt ready. feeling like an old fashioned? liquor's already in front of him.
he never wears sunscreen. not a single spf anywhere on his body.
calls girls broads and you can NOT tell me otherwise
totally thinks metallica was at its best in their thrash era. sorry bud i'd hate to break it to you
hates the fourth of july cause of y'know.
i feel like he would totally get into dog rescue after he leaves hawkins.
would totally kick ass at mario kart. like he's THE BEST and he always chooses bowser
would totally bash you for your music taste if it was different than his. "what the hell is a beatle?" "mick jagger is not hot." "queen? aren't they gay?" "zeppelin? who taught you that?"
a literal GOD at making mac n' cheese
nancy wheeler
so so so stubborn it's actually annoying.
call her 'einstein' and you're six feet under the floorboards
the tom cruise poster in her room has stared her in the face ever since robin commented on it
nancy's actually amazing at rollerskating. like even mike was surprised because when did she get good at that?
she has nightmares about what happened to barb multiple times a week :(
please know that if you're really close to her she would kill someone for you. no hesitation.
she's super literal? like when someone asks a hypothetical question she's like "when would this happen? why w-" and then immediately get cut off
has a tonnn of notebooks/journals just filled with random stuff like doodles, school notes, reminders, and little ramblings
has plants named after each of her friends and when something's wrong with one of the plants, there's always something wrong with the friend.
is a feminist (slay)
she saves every birthday card given to her and keeps them in a box in her closet
she's a morning person. up and at 'em before 9 every morning and it pisses the gang off when they all sleep in the wheeler's basement. "nancyyyyy..... close the curtains i beg of you..." "it's such a beautiful day, don't you think?"
she's actually amazing at shoplifting.
eddie munson
is allergic to peanuts
when i tell you this man is spontaneous... think 100x more. he'll pull up to your house at 11pm and declare that he planned a road trip while sitting in detention earlier that day and that you're going with him. "eddie what are you doing here? it's so late." "we're going to ohio. we're gonna stop in columbus for like five minutes and drive back." "what the hell."
has cried to sweet child o' mine and will keep that fact to his grave
owns multiple pairs of boxers with superhero logos on them.
definitely has 10 in 1 shampoo that he uses for everything.
ate dirt as a child
if you ever smoke pot with him, just expect him to say the weirdest shit while he's doing whatever. "do you think steve is thinking about me right now?" "yoooooo...... uh.... yo..... um...... i forgot....." "i want to get a cat." "shut up eddie."
he's just,,,, so oblivious,,,,, to sarcasm, flirting, jokes, etc
has ADHD, no doubt about it.
just like billy, he'll bash you on your music taste no matter what. even if you like the same music as him. "that's your favorite tool song? god, you could do way better than that." "c'mon, you know that dio sang better than ozzy." "munson, you're lying straight through your teeth and you know it."
will make you friendship bracelets and you KNOW you're wearing them till you die.
modern au where you're facetiming him and he takes SO MANY facetime pics of you and sometimes makes them his lockscreen. he thinks he's THE SHIT for that.
he giggles. a total giggler.
he flicks dustin in the head all the time.
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hanilessa · 9 months
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flowers on your wrist
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` Childe x Fem!Reader
` Genre: soulmate au, romance
` Author’s notes: this is my birthday present for you. be happy, my dear @kiryoutann ♡ i thought for a long time what kind of fic i would like to write for you, and soulmate au was the perfect solution. please, enjoy it!
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It started spontaneously and unexpectedly. When you least expected it. The party at your classmate's house was really fun. You were enjoying the pleasant taste of cocktail in the company of your friends, when a sharp and unexpected pain in your wrist make you drop glass with cocktail from your hand.
The crystal glass shattered on the floor with a slight clang, flooding the parquet with a transparent liquid, which gradually began to turn red and create unimaginable water patterns. Your head was empty for a moment in pain, your eyes clouded over with a light veil, and you grabbed your wrist with your free hand, trying to stop the pain.
The pain wasn't too bad, but you felt like your skin was being torn apart. You overcame the sudden urge to scream and finally looked down at your wrist. You held it with your other hand, but even that didn't stop you from feeling and seeing how red blood dripped from your wrist, continuing to mix with the cocktail spilled on the floor.
The feeling of pain continued to gnaw at your wrist, and you finally pulled your hand away to see a small forget-me-not sprout reaching through your torn to hell skin. The little white forget-me-not flower sparkles blood red as it continues to ooze from your open wound on your wrist.
When your shock gradually wears off, you begin to hear voices again, and when your hearing returns to normal, you hear words that later became fatal to you.
"She got a sign."
You're standing on the porch of the house, peering into the night starry sky. Myriads of celestial bodies shine on the black veil of the sky, accompanying your planet in this endless stream of the Universe. Your wounded wrist ripples through your body with a slight, residual pain, a reminder that now all that you have to think about is finding your soulmate. The wound on your wrist will never stop reminding you about it.
Ajax is standing next to you, his eyes slightly red and wet, and you sigh in an excited and saddened way, realizing that he was crying again because of his ex. Your best friend never understood people, and therefore he could never know that your feelings for him were romantic for a long time. Unfortunately, these feelings must now be discarded, because your destiny must be the one whose wrist today is also torn with burning pain and beautiful bloody flowers.
That's why you hated your reality. You cursed the world for creating soulmates. Because you never had a chance to be with someone you truly loved.
You look at Ajax out of the corner of your eye, a gentle breeze caresses his ginger hair, the blue of his eyes is devastated by a river of tears, and it hurts you to see the dry paths of tears on his cheeks. You notice a small bloody mark on the sleeve of his blue sweater. You want to ask him about it, but you don't have time because Childe becomes the first one to break the silence between the two of you.
"I was told that you got a sign." He turns to you and looks at you with his bottomless ocean eyes. "What was it?"
"The forget-me-not sprout tore my skin to shreds." You answer, looking at your wrist out of the corner of your eye. "Sensations aren't the best."
"Is that so…" Ajax looks at his soiled sweater thoughtfully, and you think he's thinking hard about something.
"Did you get into a fight with someone again?" You ask in the silence of the night city, knowing that he will again leave this question unanswered. "Because of her?"
"Let's not talk about it."
You're silent. It was something like a routine.
The days go by at a fast pace, accompanying your every morning, day and night with burning pain that spreads through your body at the speed of light. These seizures happened unexpectedly, and you didn’t even understand if your soulmate was somewhere nearby at that moment or not. The pain was burning, furious, to blackout in the eyes.
And the most frightening thing was that with each new seizures this pain got worse. You had to find your soulmate before this pain made your life hell.
You tell your friends that you urgently need to go to the bathroom because your wrist starts to burn with painful fire again. It was unbearable.
You locked yourself in the backroom and pressed yourself against the wall, throwing your head up. It was insanely fucking painful. Your lips were trembling and tears were running down your cheeks, but you could never run away from these sensations, because that was your nature.
The branches and stems of the forget-me-not grew on your wrist, fused with the tendons and blossomed into beautiful flowers that mingled with the red blood flowing from your wound. Hatred of fate spilled into your soul, as your blood spilled over the floor around you, filling the space with a bloody sea.
You wanted to resist, you could never accept that your destiny was someone who wasn't Ajax. Why did this world decide for you? Why did you have to follow clear rules, and not choose your own way? As you denied your connection to your soulmate and wept over your doomed love, the pain in your arm rose above your pain threshold, causing you to scream out loud.
There was a ringing in your ears, and for a moment you thought you heard someone scream. But you couldn't think about it for long, because your hand hurt again, and you lowered your eyes to your wrist, where a bouquet of bloody forget-me-nots bloomed. It was a beautiful and terrifying sight at the same time.
You screamed in pain again, and at that moment you distinctly heard someone scream, which was completely in sync with yours. The voice was familiar, and when you heard the scream again, you recognized it.
"Ajax…" You whispered, not believing your thoughts. You barely got up from your seat, rising on trembling legs from the floor. Your wrist continued to throb in pain, but the only thing you wanted right now was to see your best friend.
You opened the backroom door and immediately met Childe's blue eyes. His face was wet with tears, but that wasn't what caught your attention. Now you've seen his wrist. It was covered with white bloody flowers — forget-me-nots. The same ones that tore the skin off your own wrist.
"You screamed…" His voice is trembling as he also turns his attention to your hand, which is dripping blood. There was silence around you and him, broken only by the sound of his and your blood dripping, mingling on the floor.
"You too…" You say, wiping tears from your eyes with your good hand.
Ajax does the same, then smiles through the slowly fading pain, "Looks like we have something to talk about, don't we?"
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magadauthan · 2 months
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There was a lot of (justified) fandom fussing about the changes to Meryl's character in Tristamp. She's junior to a grumpy old drunk, where before she was the HBIC. She's as wet behind the ears as it gets and very naïve to the realities of the NML outback. She doesn't have any derringers. She's even shorter. And where is Milly wtf.
We all know by now that Tristamp is a reinterpretation and kinda-sorta a prequel to the main storyline, so some of those concerns have been addressed.
Meryl is the Everyman of the series and represents the viewer, and we grow alongside her as she learns about what props up her sheltered previous life in November. She's a cub reporter, so the expository monologuing that takes place when she and Roberto are around can be partially excused. She's finding out about the world, and gumption is all she has to run on. And sass. Lots of sass.
One major difference for her character arc is her personal tragedy. '98 Meryl and Trimax Meryl are office ladies who either got assigned the Vash detail or applied for it; Tristamp Meryl chose her story, as far as we know. '98 Meryl doesn't go through a major trauma other than what happens with Legato, and in Trimax, Vash is the trauma when he inadvertently downloads his memories into her.
Tristamp Meryl can't hold on to Tonis, and she loses her innocence in that moment when all her book learning and good intentions can't save him from losing his arm and falling. From then on, she has to live with the guilt, the same way Vash lives with his guilt over everyone who's suffered from associating with him and his own good intentions gone wrong (Rollo). Her burden is her own; she's not bearing it on behalf of Vash.
As the series moves on, she's told many times to stop, to back off, to go home, and she bears that additional burden when Roberto ultimately sacrifices himself for her persistence. Meryl tells Roberto he can leave, but he's no fool; she'll get wiped out in no time. He's not going to leave her out there by herself, and Vash and Wolfwood aren't going to look after her. That's not their job; it's his job. Meryl wants the scoop, in the classic teacher's pet overachiever paradigm. Roberto is there because his bosses said he had to keep her from getting herself killed in the process. He gets killed instead.
All of this is to say that Tristamp Meryl and her motivations have gone off in a very different direction than either of her progenitors, in ways that will keep her central to the plot. Which is a good thing - one criticism of Trimax is that the insurance girls disappear for long periods of time (not for nothing, but Livio and Elendira had a metaphorical peeing contest for an entire tankoubon.)
Zazie's interest in Meryl was another new wrinkle. Zazie is the voice of the planet, and it stands to reason that they felt more concordance with Nai. He styles himself as the speaker for the hivemind of Plants, which they understand on an instinctive level, and unlike the interloper humans, his mission statement is to eschew the rapacious consumption shown by the human trash. Sounds like a good deal, right? That's until Nai shows his hand and demonstrates that he does not give one single shit about anything but his agenda, and he doesn't mind wiping out the Wams along with the humans. It's the first time we see Zazie get worried. Maybe they made a bad bet.
They know Meryl-as-reporter and that her role is to speak to humans, which is what they're used to with Nai. She and they know the truth about JuLai and what Vash was trying to do. So, they pick Meryl as their new liaison with humankind, warning her that the bet has to pay off this time.
And Meryl of all people knows that trying isn't enough.
Her character design reflects her tragedy. She's wearing sunglasses, which may be a style choice but can also represent that she has something to hide. She's gone from wanting to be respectable to ditching her assignment and sneaking off to JuLai to pay her respects. She gets threats from her superiors about getting busted down to insurance duty for insubordination. She chooses to earn those derringers. Meryl Stryfe is the rebel who champions the weirdos, and she didn't do it for Vash; she did it for herself.
With all that in mind, it will be interesting to see how her relationship with Vash is different this time. I'd argue that they aren't close in Tristamp.
...yet.
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boliv-jenta · 1 year
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Nothing but 1k of dirty Agent Whiskey thoughts under the cut.
Imagine being Jack's girlfriend and calling him while he's flying.
Long Distance Relations
"Jac…I…iss..ou."
"I can't quite hear you Darlin'. I'm flying out on a mission." 
"O…call…when you...an"
"Now, hold on. Give me a minute. Is that better?"
"Much."
"Now what were you saying?"
"I miss you Jack."
"I know. I miss you too. I'm sorry I had to jump on another mission after the last one."
"It's okay. I get that your work is important."
"So are you, Sugar. I'm gonna get this all tied up and get straight back to you."
"I hope you can. It's a little lonely in this big old house without you."
"I promise, when I get back, I won't leave you alone for a second. You won't be able to breathe for me."
"That's sweet but maybe a bit much. I am kind of enjoying having this big bed all to myself."
"So you're in bed? What are you wearin'?"
"Jack!"
"What? I miss you."
"I'm wearing that shorts set with the little daisies on it."
"The one that barely covers anything?"
"I get hot sleeping next a human furnace."
"You just make me run hot all the time."
"Flattery will get you nowhere."
"Maybe not now but I'm sure I'll reap the rewards once I get home."
"Are you wearing anything underneath that set?"
"No. I just got out of the shower. I wanted a little freedom."
"So you're all nice and clean? Why don't we see if I can get you a little dirty?"
"What do you mean?"
"Well, why don't I help you enjoy that big bed that you have all to yourself?"
"Jack! You can't be serious. People could be listening!"
"This is the most secure channel on the planet. If someone can get past Ginger's security, they deserve to listen. Hell, they deserve to join us."
"I wouldn't go that far."
"Well how far would you go for me? Would you go as far as to take those cute little shorts off?"
"I can't believe I'm…okay. Done."
"Now how about that little tank top that stretches over those perky nipples? I love nippin' at them through that soft cotton."
"Done."
"Good girl. Now, I want you to touch yourself…"
"Oh, Jack!"
"Baby, I hope you didn't just dive straight in! A beautiful lady like you deserves to be seduced."
"What do you mean?"
"I mean I want you to go slow. Start with your breasts. Touch them. Caress them. Tell me when those nipples are nice and hard."
"They are."
"Good. Now pinch them. We both know you like it rough."
"Oh, shit."
"That's it. Are you nice and wet now?"
"Yes."
"Good, but we're still not done yet. I want you to trail your fingers up your thighs, along the soft skin but stop before you reach your pussy. Try using your nails lightly too. Feel good?"
"Not as good as if you were doing it."
"Flattery with get you fucked good and hard when I get home. Right, now I want you to trace around your folds teasingly. No touching your clit or slipping a finger inside."
"Jack."
"Don't be inpatient, Honey. I'm not there to give it to you good so we've at least got to put some effort into this."
"But I need it."
"Need what?"
"Anything. I need to cum."
"Okay. You can start touching yourself but you can't come unless I say. Agreed?"
"Yes, Jack."
"Mmm. From the sound of it you're close already."
"I am. Been thinking about you all afternoon."
"Really? What about me?"
"The first time we did anal on the fur rug by the fire."
"Jesus! I'm still flying a plane, Baby. You can just say shit like that to a man."
"So you remember it too?"
"Naughty fucking girl. What are you doing now?"
"Circling my clit."
"Hold off on that for a minute and slip a finger inside. I want to hear how wet you are."
"Ohhh. God. I wish you were here Jack."
"Me too, Baby. Me too. Slip another one in and start pumping them. Oh, that's it. You sound soaked. You'd take me so well."
"I always do, don't I?"
"Oh, yes, you do. Now I want you to curl those fingers. Find that little rough patch and give it some attention."
"Jack. I'm close."
"Stop for me, Darlin'. Take a minute."
"But Jack.."
"I know. I know. It will be worth it. Remember that time I got you to squirt all over me? You just have to be a little patient. Be a good girl for me."
"Okay. I'll be good for you."
"So good. Now start drumming your fingers against that spot. I know it's not as good as my fat cock but I'm sure you can make do."
"For now."
"Good. Now start playing with your clit too. Just like I do when you ride me. Fuck. I love watching you bounce on my cock. Those pretty tits in my face."
"Jack. I'm close."
"You wanna cum this time?"
"Yes, please."
"You can beg better than that."
"Please, Jack. Please, Baby. I'm so close. I need it."
"If I let you cum, what do I get out of it?"
"Anything you want. You can put it anywhere and cum wherever you want."
"I'd be a fool to pass that up. Work your fingers in and out quicker. Draw tighter, faster circles on your clit. Fuck, I should have called you this morning. You wanna know why?"
"Fuck. Why?"
"So you could hear me jerk off to the thought of shooting my load all over your pretty face."
"Oh. Jack. Oh, shit. Oh, fuck. Yes. Yes. Yes. Baby. God."
"That's my girl. Did that feel as good as it sounded?"
"Better."
"I'm glad I could be of service. Just so you know, Ginger records everything and I will be listening to this again in my hotel room later."
"JACK!"
Tags @kirsteng42 @prolix-yuy @thegreenkid2 @hquinzelle @fangirl-316 @gracie7209 @jedifarmerr @doommommy @scorpio-marionette @sturkillerbase @harriedandharassed @aynsleywalker @mswarriorbabe80 @quica-quica-quica @rise-my-angel @adancedivasmom @graciexmarvel @kinda-nobody @movievillainess721 @munsonownsmyass
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we need more of alec wearing magnus clothes for research purposes
“Have the boys eaten anything?” Alec asks from the shower. 
“No. They wanted to wait for you.” Magnus replies as he finishes removing his makeup. 
“Okay. I’m almost done. Can you pick out some clothes for me? I’ll be out in a minute.” Alec says as he massages some shampoo in his hair. 
“Already done.” Magnus answers. “Take your time, darling. I’ll call the boys and order dinner till then.”
Alec turns slightly and says with a mischievous smile on his face. “The term ‘order’ implies that you will call up a place and request for some food to be delivered. Which is not how things work in this house. You can’t call it ordering if you’re going to use magic for it.”
Magnus rolls his eyes at him. “The employees are usually overworked and underpaid at restaurants. By magicking the food here instead of asking it to be delivered the mundane way, I’m actually helping them. It’s not like I am stealing.”
Alec lets out a chuckle at Magnus’s excuse. 
He always has a good answer for everything. 
“It’s a little bit like stealing if they don’t know it’s happening.”
“You know what, love? You’re absolutely right. But since I’m a lesser man, I will continue to do so and you can cook for yourself. Or order like a good citizen.” Magnus gives Alec a perfectly innocent smile. “Should not take more than an hour or two since you know, it’s raining outside.”
Fuck.
Alec forgot about the rain thing.
Fine. Magnus wins for today.
“I would do that but it’s already late and Rafe and Max are probably very hungry. I don’t want to make them wait anymore just because I married an outlaw who couldn’t order by the standard means.” Alec says with a wide grin on his face.
“You’re full of shit, Lightwood.” Magnus announces. 
“Lightwood-Bane.”
Magnus snaps his fingers and Alec lets out a shriek as the hot water turns ice cold. “Have a great bath, sweetheart.” 
“Real mature, Magnus.” Alec shouts as Magnus gives him another innocent smile and leaves the bathroom. 
He curses himself for marrying the most annoying man on the planet and tries to finish the shower as soon as possible since he’s dying at the temperature. 
He gets out of the shower and finds the navy blue tank top and bottoms that Magnus has taken out for him. 
Alec puts on the clothes but then realises that he feels too cold to roam in a tank-top. He finds Magnus’s deep mustard cardigan lying on the vanity and puts it over the top. 
He knows Magnus picked that tank top only because it was a little too tight on Alec and his husband likes to thirst on him. 
The cardigan is too soft and warm and Alec wraps it around himself. It smells like Magnus and Alec sighs softly. 
He knows his husband is only in the other room but wearing his clothes always provides Alec with an extra level of comfort and warmth. He knows it's the same for Magnus too which is why he keeps on stealing Alec’s sweaters. 
Alec doesn’t dry his hair because Magnus likes running his hands through his wet hair sometimes before he magically dries them. So he skips all of that and leaves the bedroom. 
“Daddy!!!” Max yells and raises his hands so that Alec can take him in his arms which he does in an instant. Rafael smiles and wraps his arms slowly around his legs.
Alec doesn’t get it sometimes. 
He doesn’t get how the two of them always get excited to see him even though he himself feels the same thing every time he looks at them. 
It still catches him off guard sometimes. 
He bends down with Max in his arms and kisses both their faces. “Hi. How was your day?”
The two of them start talking and yelling over each other, narrating their adventures off the day and Alec listens to every word keenly. 
“Dinner’s ready.” Magnus announces as he enters the living room with plates and takeout containers in his hands. 
“Come on, it’s time for dinner.” Alec says to the boys and stands up. 
“What the fu–” Magnus stops in his tracks. “What are you wearing?”
Alec looks at Magnus and rolls his eyes. “Remember how you tried to kill the father of your children in ice-cold water not five minutes ago?” Magnus blinks. 
“Huh?” Magnus mumbles confusedly as if he doesn't remember. 
“You’re impossible.” Alec huffs. “But now I feel cold because of you so you don’t get to see me in a tank-top. Your cardigan is warm.” 
“Oh.”
Alec’s lips curls upwards at that. “Regret will get you nowhere, baby. This is your loss.”
Magnus puts the containers on the table and walks towards Alec. He takes Alec’s hand in his and twirls him thrice. 
Alec can hear the boys giggling in the background. 
“What are you doing?” Alec chuckles softly. 
“You think this is a loss?” Magnus asks with an award-winning smile on his face. 
Alec raises an eyebrow at him.
“Yeah?” “Alexander, watching you wear my clothes is not something I will ever regret. You look so beautiful.” Magnus says simply.
Magnus calls him beautiful all the time but it still takes Alec’s breath away.
It still makes him blush like it used to a decade ago. 
He shoves Magnus gently to hide away his blush. “Shut up. This is not the first time I’m wearing your clothes.”
Magnus smiles and kisses his cheeks softly. “I know. You look gorgeous every single time.”
Alec married the most annoying man on the planet. But he also married the biggest sap.
“Are you ever not flirting with me, baby?” 
Magnus chuckles softly and runs his hands through his hair. “I find that quite an impossible task.”
“You’re ridiculous.” Alec grins and closes the distance between the two, catching Magnus’s lips between his. 
He wraps his arms around Magnus’s neck and feels himself get lost in the sansation like he always does. 
Until four hands start poking at the two of them like they always do. 
Magnus groans softly and pulls back. The two of them lower their gaze and find two faces with annoyed expressions all over. 
“Can you stop kissing for a second?”
“Can we please give them back?”
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