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#the show has been doing it all along in subtle ways but it's impossible to ignore now
lugarn · 7 months
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so i was alive and queer in the 90s, i remember the homophobia du jour. it often went like this, "we don't mind if you're gay, but you can't expect us to tolerate you having sex or being in love."
harsh, right? but it was just how things were.
only friends' position is remarkably similar. everyone accepts that boston isn't going to change, but they make it clear that he can't expect to ever be happy as long as he chooses to be himself. you could say that it's about nonmonogamy, but gay men who are promiscuous have a long history of being told they don't deserve to have sex or be in love.
this too is homophobia, y'all. there's so many ways to fuck the same gender in the year of our lord 2023, and a show that suggests that a character must stop fucking in order to be loved is homophobic.
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hoodiedmenace · 7 months
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One day I'm gonna kiss the character designers for rise of the tmnt.
Yeah shape theory and all that, it's super neat but IT GOES SO MUCH DEEPER.
Since the beginning of tmnt, the turtles have always been hard to distinguish from each other. Especially in the 1987 show, but all the way up to 2007 movie, the one thing the turtles have really had to distinguish themselves is their color of their masks, their weapons, and usually some minor design changes like the letter on their belts, height, and skin tone. But even those have been subtle.
The 2012 series is really the first tmnt iteration to change up the turtles in a significant way. Not only is their skin different shades of green, but their heights are a more significant difference. Donnie towers of the other turtles, and Mikey's height really solidifies him as the youngest brother.
That isn't where the differences end, though. Raph has a crack in his plastron, Mikey has freckles, and Donnie is much lankier and skinny than the others. The main problem with this though, is that they are still fairly subtle. From behind and without their masks on, it's impossible to tell whether its Mikey, Leo, or Raph on screen. Not to mention, Leo is sort of treated as a 'base', and the other three turtles are just alterations made to his design.
Rise, on the other hand, said "hold my beer."
Not only do rise turtles have the different heights, skin tones, and masks, they have different body types.
And not only are these differing body types useful in telling the turtles apart, they have genuine meanings. So I'm gonna infect your brains with my brainrot.
Starting with Mikey.
Mikey has always been the silliest of the group, the party dude, if you will. Rise uses shape theory to give this playful, young vibe to him. Not only are his markings circles, but so is his head and shell. His design is very rounded overall.
The other thing about rise, is that all their fighting types are different. Their weapons influence these styles along with their personality. Mikey's style of fighting is very acrobatic, very showy. He is very in touch with his sense of balance and the space around him.
It can't be a coincidence that Mikey's body type is also very similar to an acrobat or gymnastic athlete. His muscles are small but compact, and rounded like the rest of him. His limbs are small, but clearly strong and well maintained. Acrobats often have these types of hidden muscles, where they almost disappear when not in use because of the function of them. They aren't using the muscles for heavy lifting or grueling tasks. Acrobats use their muscles for balance and manipulating their own body.
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Next is Leo. Unlike 2012 where Leo is used as a baseline for the other character designs, he most definitely has his own unique look. Overall, he's very sharp. His crescent moon markings on his face and limbs, his swords, and his overall stylized body shape leans into this pointed, sharp look.
Leo attacks quick in the series. He is often one of the first to strike, and thinks well ahead in battle to preserve his energy. His battle moves tend to also continue throughout the fight with a large blow in the beginning and end, with smaller strikes in between.
Leo is also the leanest of the turtles, with a small waist and the lithest of the turtles' limbs. All of this points his character design towards a long distance runner. They often start and end races with bursts of energy, and then pace themselves throughout the rest of the race. They have to think and consider their speed. Long distance runners also have very lean muscles. It has to do with the actual proteins in the muscle that make them thinner but perfect for pacing and persevering throughout long lengths of time.
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Similar to Leo is Donnie. The disaster twins, as the fandom has named them for being the same age, are the most physically similar. They are nearly the same height and, when Donnie had his battle shell on, their shells are very similar in shape. However, they are still very different. Donnie has a rectangular build with his purple pixel-like markings and big ass forehead. Him and Raph also are the only turtles in rise with full head coverings, and they are also both square shaped.
Donnie tends to put all of his energy into one, well timed blow. Usually using his tech to discombobulate the enemy and then backing off quickly. (The only time this doesn't hold true is when he's fighting with April, where it's only the two of them. However, he still does tend to attack and then back away.) His muscles are the second most defined of the turtles, being thick and bigger than both Leo and Mikey.
For this reason, Donnie I believe is built off of a sprinter. A short distance runner. The perfect match to Leo (the twins ever bro)
Sprinters have to save up all of their energy in order to use it all in one short length of time, often just a few seconds. Exactly how Donnie attacks. Sprinters also have much larger, more defined muscles than long distance runners. I think it has something to do with storing energy and oxygen to be used all at once.
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Finally, there's Raph. Raph is big and bulky in the show, with the biggest muscles and is *physically the strongest. He lifts giant boulders and can carry all three of his brothers, April, and Splinter with ease. His shape is a square, with his head and chest being large and boxy. His fighting style is the least ninja-y out of the four, being more related to actually just throwing hands with someone. He fights physically and often times without his weapons, preferring to attack with his body. He gets in the enemy's space and uses his larger size to overpower them. His ability to make himself bigger with his mystic powers furthers this idea. He attacks hard and doesn't let up, not allowing his weaknesses to be exploited by keeping the enemy from never getting a hit in.
I believe Raph is based off of a wrestler or boxer. They fight physically and roughly, preferring to never allow their opponent get a hit in if it allows. Their act of defense is also similar, as boxers generally use their weapon as defense instead of offense. (Raph does this in the train battle and the shredder fight pre-karai death.) Even some of Raph's moves are essentially boxing moves. It also makes sense why, in the show, Raph loves wrestling so much. It may not be boxing, but it's a very similar sport.
Boxers also have large, bulky figures similar to Raph. Their entire body is muscular as opposed to just their legs or arms because of how physical their sport is.
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*Mikey throws a lot of super heavy stuff like the top of a sky scraper, a loaded cargo ship, and a semi-truck, but he does it with the help of his mystic weapon.
Hahaha I'm so. Normal.
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rinneverse · 1 year
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࿐ ♡ ˚ . 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐚𝐲𝐬 𝐢𝐧 𝐰𝐡𝐢𝐜𝐡 𝐢 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 — honkai star rail hcs ˒ ⊹
— synopsis: random hc’s about the ways the hsr men love you.
— characters: dan heng, blade, jing yuan, && gepard.
— warnings: lots of emotions and love and sappy words!!, f!reader, praise, pet names (baby, good girl), p in v penetration, mating press (blade). very soft and fluffy, i think. :-)
— notes: i did not mean to disappear for like 3 months LMFAOOOO ,, but hi! i’m back and the honkai star rail brainrot is STRONG. i hope i did them justice !!
MINORS DNI - 18+ CONTENT BELOW THE CUT.
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✧˚ · . 𝐃𝐀𝐍 𝐇𝐄𝐍𝐆. ༉‧₊˚.**
→ dan heng is cautious, at first, when it comes to the relationship budding between the two of you. he’s deeply afraid of hurting you, losing you, driving you away.
→ he’s afraid of the intensity in which he loves you—a fire that consumes his very being. his every thought is plagued with you, and it’s something that scares him. but he wants to brave it. for you.
→ your smile, the tilt of your head, the way you carry yourself; he finds himself falling for you harder every day. like he’s been thrown off of a cliff, left to freefall, but the ground is nowhere to be seen.
→ and when he finally gets his hands on you, it’s like a supernova in his chest, an explosion spreading stardust across the whole galaxy. it’s ridiculous, really, how it’s like a giant weight has been lifted off of his shoulders as he holds you in his arms, his lips melding against yours. it’s perfect; two pieces of a puzzle slotting perfectly together.
→ and when he takes you for the first time, in the comfort of your silken sheets, hands intertwined with yours, he finds himself complete—like he doesn’t have to run anymore.
♡.﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀.♡
“baby,” dan heng groans into the crook of your neck. his hips stutter a little as he bottoms out, and the feeling of your heat surrounding him sends a violent shiver down his spine. you lay there below him, staring up at him with nothing but adoration in your eyes, and dan heng thinks to himself that he’s never seen anything more ethereal.
“heng,” you sigh, legs wrapping around his lean waist. “you feel so good.”
he can feel his heart hammering in his ribcage, pressing impossibly closer to you as you whisper sweet praises in his ear. he needs you. he needs all of you, and in return, he’ll give you all of him.
when he pulls out, the drag of his heavy cock against your walls has you keening, breath hitching in your throat as just the blunt head is left—and then he’s slamming back in, and you feel like you’re falling, head light and spinning with pleasure as dan heng sets a steady pace.
“please, please, please,” you plead with a sob of his name. dan heng can feel his cock throb with desire at the sound of his name falling from your lips.
“again,” he grunts, rolling his hips so deliciously that it has your lips parting in a silent moan. “say my name again.”
“dan—dan heng!”
he slips a hand between your sweaty bodies, quickly seeking out your aching clit. the moment he’s touching you there, your back is arching and you think that you’re seeing stars behind your eyelids. you cum with another cry of his name and that sends him right along with you, hastily jerking his hips away as his cum spurts all over your navel.
and as he lays there with you, coming down from his high, he thinks that he’s finally found a place he can call home.
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✧˚ · . 𝐁𝐋𝐀𝐃𝐄. ༉‧₊˚.
→ it’s not often you draw verbal affirmations of love from blade. in fact, it’s scarce, and something you’ve come to terms with. rarely do you ever hear the man utter the words, ‘i love you.’
→ instead, you’ve learned to read between the lines with him—the gentle way in which he treats you, the softening of his gaze as it lands on you, the way he protects you with every ounce of his being.
→ blade is not a man who speaks reverent poems, love songs, or otherwise to you. he shows his love through his actions, through his subtle body language, and especially through the way he worships your body. not one inch is left untouched by him, and you are left trembling and dizzy and full of the love that drifts unsaid between the two of you.
→ even as he ravages your body on those rougher nights, you still feel the adoration that overflows from him, in the way he leaves a blazing trail of kisses down the length of your spine, grunts and groans spilling from his lips as he pulls you ever closer.
♡.﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀.♡
“blade, wait— please, s’too much,” you sob as blade pistons into you mercilessly. he’s got you folded in half, his mouth hot on the sensitive flesh of your neck as he bites—ripping a sob from deep in your chest.
he doesn’t respond, even as your hands tug at the silky length of his hair—pulling a guttural groan from him. and as he lifts his head to look down at you, tears streaking down your cheeks and drool forming at the corner of your lips; something animalistic, something feral glints in his eyes.
“oh, fuck. you like this, yeah? you like when i use you like this? you’re clenching so good around me. takin’ me so good.” he’s breathless as he speaks, lips swooping down to capture yours in a heated kiss. he’s right—you’re clenching so tightly around him, toes curling as he hits just the right spot inside of you.
you’re floating, weightless and utterly exhausted by the time he’s done with you. blade lays beside you, an arm wrapped around your waist as the two of you take a minute to catch your breath.
“… stay here. i’ll be right back.”
you suppress a laugh as blade rolls out of your bed—as if you were going to move anywhere anytime soon. after a few moments of silence, you hear the bathtub faucet start running. a warm feeling blossoms in your chest as blade returns.
he doesn’t say anything as he scoops you up in his arms. you sluggishly throw your arms around him and plant a wet kiss on his cheek.
“love you, bladie. ♡”
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✧˚ · . 𝐉𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐘𝐔𝐀𝐍. ༉‧₊˚.
→ jing yuan is confident. sly. a renowned general of the cloud knights.
→ so why is it that he’s reduced to a fumbling mess around you? he doesn’t understand. it’s something he struggles to wrap his head around—how one second, he’s thinking of all the ways he’d like to woo you, and the next, he’s flushing, stuttering dumbly as you stare up at him with those damned eyes of yours.
→ maybe that was it. the way your eyes seem to pierce through the essence of his very being; if he didn’t know any better, he’d think you one of fu xuan’s assistants in the divination commission. but he does know better, and it’s something that he’s grateful for—he’s not sure how you would view him had you been under fu xuan’s influence. maybe as a scoundrel, since she’s so insistent on viewing him as one.
→ but enough of that. he’s sick of the way he seems to lose all his swagger around you, so one day he sucks it up, puts his big boy general pants on, and asks you out on a dinner date. the way you tilt your head at him has his heart seizing in his chest—until you laugh so gently, a smile gracing your lips as you nod your head.
→ a melodic sound: that’s what your laugh was to him. he’d like to hear that over and over and over again. perhaps he’d like to draw other melodies out of you, play you like an instrument—but for now, he’s content with this.
♡.﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀.♡
there’s electricity in the air, a tension on the verge of snapping as jing yuan guides you to your bed. hickeys litter the vast expanse of your neck and collar, something that makes his chest swell with pride. with desire.
he’s the one doing this to you—the one causing that foggy daze in your eyes as you look at him with such adoration, pupils blown wide. he can feel the lust in your gaze; he’s returning it tenfold with his own golden ones. he grins down at you.
“baby,” he says. “spread your legs for me. there you go—good girl.”
he hums, pleased, as you listen obediently. he flips up the fabric of your skirt, pausing at the sight of the lacy white panties you wore. his tongue flicks out to wet his lips.
oh, he was going to devour you. whole.
you thread a hand through his soft hair as he lowers himself to the apex of your thighs, breath ghosting over the most sensitive part of you—you’re so worked up that even the fabric in between barely does anything to separate you from him.
“sweetheart,” jing yuan speaks lowly. his voice is a deep rumble, and your thighs would’ve clenched together if it weren’t for his strong hands holding you open.
“i want to absolutely ruin you.”
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✧˚ · . 𝐆𝐄𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐃. ༉‧₊˚.
→ gepard’s large stature is juxtaposed by the gentle way he treats you. as if you were fragile glass, or perhaps a beautiful statue made of ice, his every touch is.. not quite hesitant, but calculated, made to only treat you with reverence. he worships you, your very soul, everything that you are. he adores you.
→ he is a protector at his core. he would do anything for you. he is always sure to take care of you before himself - your pleasure comes first. in fact, he thinks that he gets off when he makes you feel good. it makes his chest swell with pride and his cock twitch with desire.
→ often, he’s occupied on the frontlines, protecting belobog with all of his might. that just makes the time spent together with you even more precious. it’s not something he takes for granted—whatever time you get together, you best believe all of his attention is on you.
→ he’s treating you to a candlelit dinner, buying you flowers, taking you shopping, the whole package. he’s got a captain’s salary, after all—and he’s using it all to spoil you. he buys you promise rings and a necklace with his initial on it, pretty earrings and bracelets and other trinkets to remind you of him when he’s away. he leaves you his clothes, sprayed with his cologne, when he knows he’ll be gone for longer than he wants to be.
♡.﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀.♡
“gepard,” you say gently, running a hand through his hair as he holds your hips tight. you straddle him, plush thighs pressed against his stronger ones as he ruts up against you. “slow down, baby, we have time..”
time. time was something that was becoming increasingly more scarce—more precious. he’d like to spend all his time with you, but duty calls; and so he treats this time he can spend with you as sacred, and he’d like to not waste a single second.
“i know, i know,” he says, voice strained with want. “it’s been so long. i need you.”
you’re not used to gepard being so forward like this—but it wasn’t something you were particularly against, either; the way he guides your hips down against his cock has a soft moan bubbling up in your throat.
“let me show you how much i love you.” he says, running strong hands along your sides. it sends a shiver up your spine, your heart hammering in your chest as he pulls you close.
you nod your head, heart full with adoration and want and everything that is gepard. “please.”
and he does, undressing you carefully and unravelling you at the core. and when he deems you ready, he’s sliding his heavy cock along your folds, drawing a whine from your throat. he only smiles as you desperately rut your hips to no avail, held down by his large hands.
he doesn’t tease for long, though—he never does, not when he values your pleasure above everything else. you let out a sob of relief as you feel him slowly slide in, cunt spasming around his thick girth as he inches in slowly. he’s always so careful with you—knows that he’s bigger than average, so he has to take his time. he doesn’t mind; never once has.
he holds you close as he makes love to you, bodies melding together perfectly. if the warmth and love between you two was something physical, he thinks that it could melt the eternal freeze that plagues belobog.
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please don't repost on other platforms. rbs and comments are super appreciated ♡ !!
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chadleys · 8 months
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›› pairing: astarion x reader
›› wordcount: 1.9k
›› genre: established relationship, smut, fluff.
›› rating: 18+, mdni
›› synopsis: got a request for pregnant tav and astarion taking place after the events of the game. this is that.
›› warnings: pregnant!reader, impreg, biting, mentions of blood drinking.
the grounds of the manse are still, quiet, as you examine yourself in the full-length mirror by the window. cloud cover has been rolling in all day; a storm is brewing. you wish it would just arrive already — you’ve always loved the rain. and any excuse to spend the afternoon in bed with your beloved while rainfall pounds at the windows is a good one to you.
you turn this way and that, examining the subtle swell of your belly. that’s not the only change you’ve noticed, of course; your hips and thighs are a shade larger, your breasts more plump, arms slightly too thick to fit into most of your tunics anymore.
at the moment a sheer, lacy negligee drapes from your shoulders, the bottom hem barely brushing the backs of your thighs.
just as you start to grimace and turn from the mirror, a knock at the door distracts you.
❝ is my love decent? ❞ astarion’s dulcet tones make your legs quake and a tenuous bout of gooseflesh prick your arms.
❝ as though you’d care either way, ❞ you purr. a moment ago, you were desperate to get away from the reflection in the mirror. now, you stand your ground, waiting for him to enter.
which he does, beautiful body sliding between door and frame as his crimson gaze finds you. he sighs, wistfully, and his bare feet make quiet shuffling noises along the hard wood floor as he approaches. ❝ what can i say other than that you’re right? you are utterly indecent and i have to be honest. i prefer you this way … ❞ those last words spoken right into your ear send a shiver down your spine, your lashes fluttering before flying open again.
this. this is why you so suddenly changed your mind about abandoning your post in front of the mirror. it’s been enchanted. ever since your return to baldur’s gate, both your and astarion’s fortunes have vastly improved. not only monetarily, though it’s certainly been fun to watch your coffers steadily rise and eventually overflow. but also your general quality of life; not only do you have a special midwife who’s been helping to check on the babe from time to time, making the periodic blood meals it requires more palatable for you, but every mirror in the house has been magicked to be able to show a vampire’s reflection.
❝ admiring yourself? ❞ astarion’s voice is unbearably low and intoxicating in your ear. you nearly fall into his arms, as one wraps itself around your waist, hand cupping your belly. ❝ … i know i am. ❞
your hands come to brace themselves on astarion’s forearms, running back and forth, though you’re comforting yourself more than you are him. ❝ just the opposite, ❞ you all but spit. ❝ i don’t look like myself anymore. these changes, they … they disgust me. ❞
suddenly, you’re being whirled, losing your footing. but astarion is there, hands on your biceps, drawing you close and pressing his mouth fiercely to yours.
you melt, fingers clutching at the collar of his tunic, trying to pull him impossibly closer.
just when you think he’s sucked all the air from your lungs, he presses you back and allows you to breathe again.
❝ i don’t ever want to hear you talking about yourself like that again. and i do mean ever. ❞ gentle fingers swipe a lock of hair back from your forehead. ❝ you’re carrying my child; how could you possibly be disgusting? ❞
at a loss for words, you let him wheel you slowly back around to face the mirror. chin hooked over your shoulder, his scorching carmine gaze roves over you. slow hands part the lapels of your negligee, traipsing over all of your newest curves. ❝ look at this beautiful body ... ❞ his voice is low and hot, splashing molten waves over your entire body. ❝ and it's all mine. ❞
in one swift move, he sinks his teeth into your neck, making you moan and squirm against him. he doesn't drink from you anymore, not when you need all the energy you have to keep up with the life growing inside of you. but it's enough for him to continue to mark you, never letting your bites heal fully before he leaves more.
❝ astarion ... ❞ his name is a plea on your lips as you lean back into him, a solid pressure against your back.
❝ i can smell you, ❞ is his response, one hand traveling steadily downward, ❝ getting so wet for me. it happens more often now that you're pregnant, have you noticed? i certainly have. ❞
you want to tell him that it's not like the two of you weren't having sex every single night before. but now you're having sex every morning, too. and afternoon. and evening …
instead, you swallow thickly and swerve onto your other path of thinking. the path that focuses on the heat between your legs, thighs already sticking together as astarion slips a hand between them and cups your sex.
❝ please tell me you were wearing this — ❞ he plucks a piece of flimsy fabric from the negligee between his teeth. ❝ — for easy access? ❞
❝ of course. ❞ it hadn’t even crossed your mind.
astarion releases a shaky breath and steps away from you. you miss him immediately. ❝ get on the bed. ❞ normally he would throw you onto it, bthe two of you are taking every precaution for the baby.
climbing onto the soft bedspread of your giant four-poster bed, you allow astarion to come after you, crawling, hunting you as if you were his prey. the softest, sweetest prey he’d ever encounter.
legs spread, you welcome him between them, where his hardness presses — warm and insistent — against your wetness. but he still has his breeches on.
you hook a finger into the waist and tug, letting the fabric snap back against his alabaster skin. ❝ these, i think, need to come off. ❞
❝ why, i do believe you’re right. ❞ using his roguelike reflexes, the trousers are gone before you know it and his erection is jutting up, thick and hard, against his stomach. the sight is enough to make you salivate.
normally you’d put it in your mouth straight away, but pregnancy has made you overly sensitive to nausea and you really don’t want to chance ruining this lovely afternoon. so you pull him down by his tunic and kiss him again, your tongues slipping, dancing, enjoying themselves.
one of astarion’s hands has found itself down between your legs again, and he parts from you to whisper, ❝ you’re so wet … i think i could just … ❞
he trails off, and the head of his cock finds your entrance. gentle fingers splay your lips apart and he guides himself right into you, gliding easily along your slick walls. this is not the first time you’ve gotten wet so easily for him and certainly won’t be the last.
you pull your legs back, hooking your arms around your knees to hold yourself open for him. you’ve made this exact shape with your body many times before, and not always in a bed as comfortable as this one. but the extra weight you’ve put on makes holding the position a touch more difficult this time, and one of your legs slips from your grasp, knocking astarion hard in the side.
❝ gods, sorry! ❞ you reach for him, to make sure he’s okay, but the vampire catches your hand easily and pins it to the bedclothes, fingers twined with yours.
❝ never apologize to me, my love. you have no need to. you could ravish me, and still i would thank you. ❞
the thought makes your toes curl; being with astarion hasn’t always been easy, especially when you first met. but now … especially now that you’re pregnant, his desire to dote upon you has grown immeasurably. you want nothing more than to bask in the intensity of his gaze forevermore … and to give birth to his child, of course, but that is still months off.
❝ i still c-can’t believe, ❞ you stutter as he begins to thrust, ❝ you actually managed to get me pregnant. ❞
astarion covers your swollen belly with one of his perfect hands, and both of you watch your breasts sway as he fucks you. ❝ my dear, i was so full of your blood that night i’d be surprised if you don’t give birth to twins. ❞
the thought makes your head swim, your legs clench around his waist, drawing him in, wanting him so much deeper.
neither of you had strictly known that was how it worked; that the more blood a vampire had drunk, the more virile they’d become. not until conducting some research and investigation after you’d mysteriously missed your cycle that month.
needless to say, however, both of you were beyond thrilled.
❝ careful, ❞ you jest, with your legs still tight around him, urging him on. ❝ don’t want to poke the baby’s eye out. ❞
astarion chuckles, leaning down to lay a chiding bite to your chest, fully on display now that the opposites sides of your negligee had fallen completely open. ❝ i don’t claim to be an expert, but i don’t think that’s how it works, love. ❞
as if to prove his point, his hips start to piston in and out of you. harder, faster, astarion holds your gaze as he all but begins to plow you.
pregnancy has made you sensitive in ways you couldn’t believe were possible. the ridges of his fat cock dragging against your tight walls make the room go fuzzy, the bed canopy above you shifting and twinkling like a sky full of stars.
your hands are in his hair, tugging, drawing a hiss from him as he tosses his head back against your ministrations.
he growls, tight and low, that he wants to see you cum, wants to see you lose yourself for him. and you can’t help but obey.
your entire body seizes, toes curling in the sheets, and astarion fucks you through it with harsh, demanding thrusts. you’re so wet that his cock makes sticky sweet noises every time he enters you.
it takes him no time at all, after that, to finish for you. this time you pull your legs back as far as possible and tell him to cum as deep inside of you as he can, wishing to every god you believe in that he could get you pregnant again now, fuck another baby into you.
the one already inside of you is demanding enough, but you can’t help but marinate on astarion’s earlier words: what if you’re having twins? the thought fills you with inexplicable joy, heart pounding big and broad in your chest.
astarion sighs and slips to the side of you, sliding down to place his cheek against your belly. ❝ see? i don’t think he minds at all … ❞
❝ oh? and how do you know it’s a he? ❞ you can barely catch your breath to ask, fingers brushing hair back from astarion’s sweaty forehead.
❝ i don’t. but if you have a boy, you can be guaranteed i’ll be getting you pregnant again as fast as i can, so that he’ll have a sister to keep him in line. ❞
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houseofanticipation · 2 months
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It's impossible to count the number of times you've imagined this moment. Late at night, under the covers; in the bathtub, and the shower; on slow days at the bookstore, the summer before senior year; during Mr. Madrigal's long, droning lectures. You fantasized so vividly you could see each scene on the back of your eyelids, hear each sound between breaths. Many a time your hand migrated southward, almost of its own volition. If you were in public, you'd hold it against your crotch, pressing it into yourself with the force of your clenched thighs. In private, you'd be far less subtle.
In all those fantasies, you never imagined it would look quite like this.
The hallway smells like cigarettes and industrial cleaner. The haphazardly patterned carpet is coming up at the edges. The yellow tube light overhead might be attempting morse code, the way it flickers. Paint peels from the door in front of you, and one of the metal digits in the room number has been replaced with one that doesn't quite match: room 233. You raise your hand, your knuckles inches from the door, and then you pause. You're not sure if you can go through with this.
Before you can decide, the door opens anyway.
You started posting pictures in your first year of college. It was just your tits at first. You'd been quietly following those subreddits and tumblr blogs for a while, and you thought it would be a bit of fun, a little thrill. You didn't expect the response you got: dozens of people telling you how much they'd enjoyed it, asking for more. So you posted more, and the people asked for different things. Post your ass. Post your cunt. Post your fingers in your cunt. Post audio of you moaning as you came. The more you revealed of yourself, the more attention you got, and the more attention you got, the more you wanted to show. People wanted to send you tips, so you set up a Cash App address. You never got much, a few dollars here and there, but it was nice to get a free coffee now and then.
And somewhere along the way, apparently, you let slip that you were a virgin.
The message came late last semester, from a Cash App user whose name was just a string of numbers. It read, "I will buy your virginity for $100,000. So you know I'm serious, here is $7000 for you to keep, deal or no deal. Let me know if interested."
It was like one of those hypotheticals you talk about with your friends at the dinner table. Would you work nonstop for a year if it meant you never had to work again? Would you cut off your hand if it meant you never had to die? Would you let a stranger from the internet take your virginity for a hundred thousand dollars? You thought about it for weeks. The 7 thousand in itself was a windfall you never could have imagined. It was the new laptop you needed, four times over. It was a large iced coffee ever day for three and a half years. After graduation, if you were smart, it could be your living expenses for the better part of a year. But a hundred thousand might be a house, or a car, or a few years of freedom to pursue your goals. And when you asked how you could trust him to pay when he'd gotten what he wanted, he told you he'd be happy to pay up front.
So here you are, in a dingy hotel, face to face with the broad-shouldered, potbellied older man in front of you. "I saw you through the peephole," he says. There's something impish about him. Maybe it's the toothy grin, or the way his ears stick out from his head, or the obvious glee in his voice as he looks you up and down. "My, you're much better in person. Come in! You got the money then?"
You nod. You didn't leave the Lyft until it was there in your account.
"Good," he says, throwing the dead bolt. "Let's get to it then, shall we?"
"What should...I mean, how do you want to..." you feel yourself talking strangely. Breathing in the wrong places, words tumbling over each other. "Maybe we should...talk first? Get to know each other?"
"No need for that," says the man matter-of-factly, unbuttoning his shirt. His chest is smooth, his skin a mottled pink. He waves a hand at your body. "Go ahead and get those off."
Back in high school, one of your recurring fantasies involved Jason Meier having his way with you in the back of that beat up convertible he used to drive. That old thing used to get you so wet. It was a piece of junk, but something about the exposure of it...In the fantasy, he's driven you out to some secluded spot outside of town. Cicadas drone all around. The night sky shines bright with stars. He cups your face with one hand, strokes your cheek with his thumb, asks you if this is your first time. He kisses the side of your mouth, then your jaw, then below your ear, then down your neck. As his hands undo the top button of your blouse, he tells you he'll be gentle.
The man is watching you expectantly. With his shirt on, he looked like a portly old man. Without it you can see that every inch of that stocky build is hard muscle. That pink skin strains against his mass, muscle rippling beneath it as he moves. "What are you waiting for?"
Your legs tremble. Your knees feel like they're about to buckle. You can hear your heart pounding in your ears. Your body has never done this before. You didn't know you could feel this kind of fear, and yet there's nothing to fight, nowhere to flee. You agreed to this. You decided this was what you wanted. Slowly, you pull your shirt over head.
He groans in the back of his throat, a long, growly sound. His face is a mask of focus, the impish joviality gone, his eyes fixated on your breasts. "And the rest."
You kick off your shoes, pull off your socks. An inch at a time, you slide your shorts and panties over your ass, down your legs, past your trembling knees. You step out of them, and now you're completely exposed. You cross your arms over your chest, then lower them when he grunts disapproval. Almost urgently, he unbuttons his pants, pulls out a long, rigid cock, and begins to stroke himself.
You didn't discover internet porn until your senior year, and before then the only penises you'd seen were a few drawings in your health textbook. In the fantasy, you unbutton Jason Meier's pants and fig. 7.5, "The penis becomes engorged when in state of arousal," pops out of his underwear. You take it in your hands, feeling the weight of it, the girth, and look up into those beautiful brown eyes of his.
This cock is much...realer. It has bounce, texture, even a sound as his hand slides up and down its length. It's longer than the one in that old fantasy, too, and it leans slightly to the left. For years you've wondered what it would be like to see a cock in person, and now that you're here it terrifies you.
"Come here," says the man, sitting on the edge of the bed. "Get on your knees."
You falter. "You didn't...I mean, we didn't agree to that."
"I bought your virginity," says the man. "You ever suck cock before?"
You shake your head.
"Then your mouth is just as much a virgin as your cunt. Get down here."
It's almost a relief to get off your legs, the way they've been threatening to give out. Close up, you can see the purples and blues of the veins under his skin. The head of his cock pulses with anticipation as your lips part, your tongue extends...
You don't think you can do this.
Then his hand is on the back of your head.
You always imagined Jason Meier whimpering as you took him into your mouth. You were never quite able to picture what he would feel like between your lips, on your tongue; the movie camera of your imagination always panned up at that point, to focus on his face. He would let his head fall back in pleasure, eyebrows knit with sensation, lips slightly parted. Now, though, there's no camera to pan. You are here. This is real. And his powerful hand is pushing your mouth onto his cock.
A sound you can't control comes out of you. Your back arches, your hands flail, and then by pure instinct they're on his belly, pushing against him, away from him. Spit runs down your chin, and you wipe it away with the back of your hand. "I'm sorry," you say, looking anywhere but at his face. "I'm sorry, I can't, I thought I could do this but I can't."
There's a horrible darkness in his voice. "I already gave you the money."
"I know, I'll give it back, I'm sorry." The words trip over each other on the way out of your mouth. "I'm really sorry, I shouldn't have, I just, I thought I could..."
His hand is on the back of your head again, and this time his fingers are curled tight into your hair. He jerks your head back, forcing you to look at him, and his eyes are cold and predatory. "I'm not interested in returning what's already bought and paid for." He jams himself back into your mouth.
You always imagined yourself savoring it, taking your time to explore every inch of Jason's length with your tongue, but there's no time for that now. The veiny, throbbing thing in your mouth bypasses your tongue entirely, forcing past your uvula. You gag, then gag again. Your stomach churns and you convulse as your body tries to remove the foreign object, but the man just pushes harder. Your eyes water as he slides deeper, deeper, making your throat bulge, your limbs spasm. As his balls touch your chin, you close your eyes and try to relax your throat.
He holds you like that. You gag for a third time, and thick saliva explodes through the gaps around his cock, dripping down your chin and collecting in a long, dangling rope. Tears roll down your cheeks as you try to acclimatize to the feeling, try to convince your body that nothing is wrong. You think you've got it, and then he moves slightly, and you're gagging again. He groans, grips your head tighter, and in the back of your throat you feel his cock swell slightly. He likes it when you gag for him, says a voice in the back of your mind. The motion is pleasurable for him.
You've got another problem rearing its head. You can't breathe. It was fine at first, but the man shows no interest in freeing up your airways, and in all the gagging and crying, you haven't exactly been conserving your oxygen. You pat his leg, trying to signal to him, but all he does is clap you on the side of the head. Your ear rings, you gag again, and his cock throbs. Black walls are closing in on your vision. The effort of struggling against him becomes too much, and your arms fall to your sides. Your eyelids flutter. You're going to pass out. You're going to pass out, and then what will he do to you?
But just before the world fades to black, he pulls your head back again. You feel every inch of his cock as it slides out of your throat. He lifts your face, and your eyes struggle to focus on his as you take lungful after lungful of glorious air. Drool spills across your lips, but you don't care. You're alive.
The man slaps you hard, leaving a stinging impression of his palm on your cheek. You whimper. Two of his fingers are in your mouth, pushing on the back of your tongue. Not knowing exactly why, you close your lips around them and shut your eyes.
"That's better," he says.
The first time you saw a male sex toy in use was in an ad before a porn video you were watching. You were taken aback by the way the performer had pounded it over his cock, barely more than an extension of his hand. You're reminded of that image as he parts your lips again, and the rape of your throat begins in earnest.
You haven't thought about Jason Meier in years, but at this moment he's the only thing keeping you sane. As your face rams up and down, up and down, you retreat to that beat up convertible, and Jason's soft, thoughtful face. As the man tightens his grip, Jason runs his fingers through your hair. As the man grunts and growls with pleasure, Jason coos your name. With each stroke of his cock down your throat, each spasm of your body, you focus on a different part of Jason's body: his large hands, his long fingers, his shoulders, his jawline, his liquid brown eyes. By the time the man finally releases your hair, you can barely feel your body any more. The convertible is far more real than the squeaky motel bed. The hands on your body are Jason's, soft and tender.
He climbs over the center console straddling you. You lock lips, feel your tongues in each other's mouths, kiss so deeply that it feels as though you share the same breath. He pulls the lever to lay your seat back, and then he's over you, on top of you, lifting your skirt, pulling your panties to the side.
This is the part where, in the old days, you would have slipped a finger or two inside yourself. But this time you don't have to. This time you can feel him inside you, really feel him, and he fills you up like your fingers never could. There's some pain—they told you there'd be pain, didn't they, your first time—but it falls away to the thrill, the lust, the pleasure. Jason whimpers as he slides into you, deeper, deeper, and you moan into each other's mouths as his pelvis meets yours. You take a moment to savor it, breathing each other in, and then he begins to thrust.
You feel drunk. It's exactly like you always imagined it, and somehow better than you could ever have expected. Each movement of his hips brings another sensation: a spasm in the arches of your feet, a hitch in your breath, a churning, swirling need in the depths of your abdomen. Deeper you tell him, harder, and he obliges, pulling you into him, and him into you.
You can feel the orgasm building, but it isn't like any you've had before. Every time you've ever cum, you've been in control. This time, Jason is in control. Jason decides when you cum, how you cum. One hand supports his weight as he leans over you, and the other slides up your belly. You used to watch those hands obsessively. The way he held a pencil, the way he bit his knuckles when he was thinking. Now that hand slides up, caresses your breast. Now that thumb brushes your hair out of your face. Now those fingers close around your throat.
You know you're safe with Jason, but the pressure on your throat triggers some animal fear response in you. You try to squirm away, but his arm is strong, and his hand his firm. Your hands go to his wrist. "I don't like that, stop." He just smiles. It isn't his usual sweet smile, either. This one is cruel. Predatory.
Your face feels tight. Your eyes bulge. You're beginning to panic for real now. "Jason, seriously, stop!" You beat at his arm with your fists, but he easily takes both your wrists in one hand and pins them over your head. You try to kick at him, but he's already past your defenses, between your legs, pushing them uselessly apart. His grip tightens, his rhythm increases, his cock swells inside you. He's getting off on this.
All at once you're back in the hotel room. The man's sweaty red face is inches away from your own, and the lust in his eyes is obvious. His cock seems to push deeper with every thrust, and the horrible thing is that the orgasm is still coming. It's close now, you can feel it, and it's like he knows exactly how to bring it out. You feel floaty, tingly, and that awful pleasure is welling up inside you, a pot about to boil over...
"That's right," he says, his eyes locked on yours. "That's what I was waiting for. That perfect mix of...pleasure...and...fear." He punctuates each of these last three words with a long, deep thrust, and it's these that send the orgasm spilling over. A choked moan pushes itself out of you as your back arches, your toes curl, your legs wrap involuntarily around his waist, tears roll down your cheeks. That floaty feeling has combined with the orgasm to create something like how you imagine heroin must feel; a wave of mind numbing, soul deadening ecstasy. Your insides feel hot, and at first you think that must just be what it feels like when you cum from sex, but then you see the look on his face and realize that he's cumming too. His grip relaxes and he pounds away a few more times at your now-limp body. You stare at the ceiling as he moans, buries his face between your tits, pumps round after round of his warm, thick cum into your cunt, your womb. After one final push he collapses onto you, his cock still inside you, his bulk crushing you into the bed. You don't move.
He strokes your cheek. Fondles your nipple. Kisses your neck. Then he kisses your mouth, his tongue pushing your lips open, his breath like damp earth. You barely see him.
It must be almost ten minutes before he finally gets up, his limp cock sliding out of you at last. You can feel his cum dripping from your cunt as he puts on his underwear, then pants, then shirt, then shoes. "The room is paid for the night," he says with his hand on the door handle. "Thank you for struggling. Taking someone's virtue is so much better when you actually get to take it.
You don't respond.
You don't know how long you lie there, motionless, dripping cum. Oddly, the man who just raped you isn't the one burned onto your mind's eye. Try as you might to return to that sweet teenage fantasy, all you can see is Jason Meier as he held his hand to your throat, and that cruel, predatory smile on his face.
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sttoru · 10 months
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LOST IN YOUR EYES !
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ෆ sypnosis. your lover’s bangs cover most of his eyes and stand in your way whenever you want to admire them. you take matters in your own hands and find a way past that barrier to admire his eyes properly.
ෆ note. based on this anon request. thank you for the amazing idea bb! hope you enjoy. not proof read. this includes headcanons + small drabbles (below cut)
ෆ tags. blade / jing yuan x gender neutral reader (written with female reader in mind, however no pronouns used), fluff, reader gets referred to as cute/adorable in jing yuan’s part.
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BLADE !
genuinely doesn’t even know why you’d like to stare into his eyes in general. blade doesn’t look much into a mirror, however since meeting you and hearing your kind comments about them, he’s started to secretly look more at his eyes whenever passing by his reflection.
blade does this out of pure confusion, because he fails to understand why you’d like his uniquely red and yellow coloured eyes. no matter how many times he tries to put his mind to it—your reasoning is impossible to comprehend. he just labels your comments about them as weird.
blade got a bit defensive when you first started to move his dark blue bangs to the side with the excuse of wanting to see his eyes. he’d swat your hand away in the beginning. though, slowly and surely, he got used to that habit of yours.
“again?” blade sighs with his arms folded over his chest.
he had been strolling around with you and the sun was setting, the orange sky making his eyes glow and seem even more ethereal to you. especially due to the gold hue in them which shone brighter than ever.
“please? just stay still.” you pout, putting on your best puppy eyes. that antic normally never works on blade for some reason; he’ll show zero reaction to your pleading. if he’s in a better mood than usual, he’ll glance at you and then nod at best.
“for me?” you add in a desperate attempt to get your lover to comply.
blade silently looks over at you. there was not an ounce of change to be seen on his cold face, yet you noticed the subtle flicker in his eyes. one that no other person could have spotted. you had spent enough time admiring his eyes to memorise every little detail about them. from how they’d look when he’s mad to how they’d look when he’s in a (rare) content mood.
you knew your pleading had finally broke through his hard shell.
“…” blade stops in his tracks and turns his body to you, letting his arms fall to their sides like you’ve won him over. it’s the most vulnerable he’s been with anyone.
you stood there with your mouth slightly agape at the beautiful scenery, including the man in front of you. the wind blowing through blade’s long hair and the way he’s standing so relaxed—it was almost an honour to see that view.
“i’m not going to stand here all day. come.”
you immediately went over to blade, standing in close proximity to his body. you carefully brushed his bangs to the side and looked into both of his gorgeous eyes. blade was staring right back at you, not blinking even once.
“incredible..” you admire him out loud as your thumbs graze against the smooth skin of his temples.
blade doesn’t utter a word and lets you do what you want to. he can’t deny the unfamiliar yet tugging feeling in the pits of his stomach. the one feeling he’s been trying to repress to not make the same mistake twice.
all he could do in that moment of vulnerability was accept the power you had and will continue to have over him.
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JING YUAN !
is probably fascinated by your wish to look into his golden orbs. jing yuan, in contrast of blade, thinks it is pretty adorable of you. he won’t question your actions and just goes along with whatever you desire of him. the general is a fool for you.
jing yuan won’t even mind it if you do it in public. he’ll bend his head down a little to give you access to his face. but, don’t blame him if he has his hands on your waist or hips in the meantime. you being close to him while looking into his eyes is considered something romantic according to him.
be prepared for kisses to be stolen from you. you’ll be in such a trance, too enamoured by his eyes to even notice the strategy the general was planning. that strategy including all the ways he can have you close enough for a ‘surprise’ kiss.
jing yuan was staring back at you with a soft smile that reached his eyes, his arms wrapped around your waist while you laid on his bare chest, “are you having fun, dearest?”
it was just another lazy morning with the two of you cuddled up in his cozy bed. jing yuan, who was spared from his duties today, woke up to you playing with his hair. specifically, the light grey-ish locks that covered one of his eyes.
“mhm,” you hum, the soft sound of delight being jing yuan’s weakness, “you’re so pretty.”
you always tell him that. it was the truth and you simply wanted your lover to know how good he looks. no matter what he’s doing—whether it’d be sleeping, working, fighting or eating—jing yuan’s handsome looks were mesmerising.
your kind words earn a deep chuckle from your partner, sending vibrations through his chest, “well, thank you.”
jing yuan’s calloused hand cups one side of your cheek while your own hand held his bangs to the side. now both of his eyes were staring back at yours. you enjoyed jing yuan’s loving gaze that scanned your entire face in search of a perfect place to kiss.
the light streaming into the room between the gaps of your curtains made his skin glow and his soft yellow eyes more vibrant. they shone like valuable golden ores which mankind could only dream of witnessing.
jing yuan held onto the back of your head and guided your lips down to meet his in a kiss. a surprise kiss so romantic that it had you melting into his touch in an instant.
after you pulled back, jing yuan could easily spot the embarrassment on your face. he’s glad that his antics still have that effect on you.
“my love,” the general sighs in content, the pad of his thumb gently stroking the skin beneath your right eye, “you’re so easy to catch off guard.”
and he loves you for it.
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dnd-writes · 7 months
Text
Boulevard of Broken Dreams - Pt. 1
AO3
Tags: Non-con, this whole fic is just one whole degenerate lump of non-con, so warning all of you already at the beginning. BFH, very degenerate, unedited, Third-person PoV (cause easier that way), sex slave!Julie, sex slave!Natty, sex slave!Belle, sex slave!Haneul, sex slave!Kiss of Life, sexual slavery, sexual exploitation, contract manipulation, clothing control, slapping, punching, kicking, spitting, deflowering, anal deflowering, painal, dry vaginal sex, facefucking, cum on food, frozen dildos, I think that's all or most of it but you get the point
A/N: 1. First of all, thank you to @fillinforlater for the fic idea. Idk what the fuck happened, at first I was following the plot he laid out, then I changed this part, then I added this part, then this, then that, and I blink and all of a sudden I have this monstrosity of a fic 2. Fic has nothing to do with the song, just thought it would fit as a title 3. If anyone asks, for this fic I "changed the timeline" of KIOF's pre-debut stuff to essentially fit in June 2023, cause y'know, Haneul. 4. Part 1 cause Smite's prompt had a second part that I also want to write but it's gotten so long I decided to split the fic into two? parts.
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It’s finally happened, she’s finally done it! After years of hardships and struggles Natty has finally achieved her goal of being in a K-pop girl group, the dream she once thought to be impossible now becoming a reality as she takes the pen and puts her signature down on the contract with tears filling her eyes. Some might call her crazy or an overreactor for bawling out but for someone who has gotten eliminated in the finals of not one but two survival shows, tears of joy sound like a reasonable reaction. 
Although Natty has already spent nearly a decade training, she is still looking forward to training more with her new groupmates. Even if it might take a decade more, as long as her dream comes alive, to her it’s all worth it. 
Natty expected to be surprised on her first day but she wasn’t ready to face what was in store for her. Having been a trainee for almost half her life, there’s no doubt that Natty has heard rumors about the industry, the drastic measures required to stay in form, the horrible things that happen away from prying eyes, the exploitation, the harassment. Though to her, they were all just rumors, just silly little things that people made up, little did she know that the rumors were just a teaser of what’s to come.
Natty goes through the front doors but instead of the vibrant and cheerful place she visited not long ago, the company now has a faint and eerie atmosphere. Lights are off, not a sign of any person in the immediate vicinity, it’s like the place never was alive to begin with. “Maybe I just came in at a wrong time,” she thinks as she navigates her way to her destination. Natty ascends to the fifth floor and as she makes it there, she hears subtle heavy breathing echoing along the halls. She decides not to get too curious and instead looks for the meeting place.
Natty stands just outside the door with a large smile prepared on her face, “This is it,” she tells herself as she gets ready to meet her new sisters. Her jolly expression quickly fades as she breaches the door, sitting inside are two of her three new groupmates. While very excited to finally meet them for the first time, what catches her attention the most are their outfits—both of them revealing way too much skin, a stark contrast to the jacket and jeans she has on. One of them is wearing booty shorts and a crop top cut short enough to barely cover her nipples and Natty notices that she doesn’t seem to have a bra underneath it. And all she can see on the other is a large red shirt barely making its way past her hips. 
Natty forces back a smile, trying to regain the excitement she previously had. There’s just four seats in the middle of the room all facing each other and Natty takes one of the two empty ones. It was awkward at first but the tension slowly dissipated as the three began talking, though a sense of eeriness still lingers behind. They start off introducing themselves to each other and Natty quickly learns that it’s Haneul who is wearing the crop top and Belle is the one wearing the red shirt. Once they got the awkward introductions out of the way, they proceeded to talk about random things. They start to talk about their lives now, their lives as trainees in previous companies, how the two knew of Natty in her time in survival shows. Although, every time Natty would try to talk about their outfits, they would pause and take a deep breath but then they would either play it off as if it was a normal thing or just change the subject entirely.
With no obstructions between them, Natty can’t help but notice some details with their apparent choices of clothing. Natty doesn’t know if she’s just imagining it but when she looks at Haneul’s crop top, she swears she can see a hint of darkness which she can only guess to be are areolas. Then there’s Belle who is sitting in the chair across from her, her short red shirt hikes even higher up her body while she sits down and Natty can see, clear as day, Belle’s pussy just hanging in the breeze. Natty tries to ask her about it but Belle just looks at her as if she was a crazy person.
Eventually the last member arrives, Natty somewhat expected her to also be similarly dressed which she is but the state she came into the room in was what shocked her the most. The last member arrives wearing a yellow sundress though from the looks of it, it might be a size or two too small. As she stands there trying to introduce herself to Natty, she keeps on adjusting her dress, struggling between pulling it over her chest or pulling it below her hips. But her attire is the least alarming part, her hair is all frizzled, her lipstick is smeared, and there’s drops of liquid dripping from between her legs. Natty forces another smile as all four of them start to talk together. The mystery girl introduces herself as Julie, their new leader. Julie takes the remaining seat and, similar to Belle, her dress hikes up, even higher compared to Belle’s shirt, and Julie’s pussy is visible to everyone. No one comments on it but Natty quickly sees that a pool of white is forming between Julie’s legs and it seems to come from her pussy and her butt.
Natty was right in that her first day would be full of surprises, though she did not expect to be such horrible and gut wrenching surprises. On her way home, she starts to recall the rumors she has heard over the years and after thinking back to what she saw earlier, they’re starting to become less like rumors and more like the harsh reality of the industry. But Natty brushes the thoughts aside, thinking to herself that her dream of being part of a K-pop group is being fulfilled and if it means even worse and troubling obstacles, then she will just overcome them too. She has had years of training, what’s a questionable dress code compared to that?
The next day arrives and Natty tries to remain optimistic, wearing another bright smile as she enters the practice room, though just like the day before it quickly drops. There’s a fifth person joining them that day and Natty can only assume he’s their choreographer only except he’s wearing nothing but shorts. While his toned body is in no doubt hot and amazing, given the situation and the very very prominent tent he’s sporting, Natty is deeply disturbed.
She says hi to him and then at her group mates who she has just noticed are still wearing the same outfits as the day before albeit with some slight changes—Haneul’s isn’t even covering her chest anymore, just dangling like a necklace above her shoulders; Belle’s red shirt has streaks of white all over the front; and Julie’s dress has a rip at the top as if her breasts were breaking free. Natty couldn’t even find the time to feel sorry for them as the man starts to talk to her as she comes in. “Hey, you’re the new girl right? What are you wearing?”
Natty stands frozen in place. She hasn’t gotten any sort of instructions or clothing to wear. Has she missed something? 
The man carries some papers over to her. “Did you not read this?” Natty recognizes the papers he’s holding, it’s the contract she signed. He flips through the pages and gives it to her, “See? Right here.” He points at the clause labeled “Attire” and Natty reads through the fine print. “In the company, the members should wear what is given to them or any clothing that they have. Provided that their tops have sleeves not longer than 10 cm and bottoms not longer than 20 cm.” With just her luck, she’s wearing a sweater and jeans that day. Natty couldn’t believe this, she remembers reading every detail of the contract but not once has she seen this. Natty continues to read the page and the next clause is labeled “Sex.” It reads, “The members cannot object to their bodies being touched or used by the employees of S2 Entertainment. The members must follow every order given to them, whether they are willing to do so or not. If the task is impossible to do, the members must accomplish it to the best of their ability. None of this can be mentioned to anyone outside of S2 Entertainment.” Natty could not believe her eyes, such inhuman clauses on her own contract. She hastily checks the last page and there sits her signature, bright as day. She looks at the others in disbelief but they can only stare right back at her with empty expressions.
The man grabs the papers back. “Well? The clothes we have are still in the laundry, so unless you have spare clothes with you or something, the only solution is to undress.” Natty looks at the others again for help but they just shake their heads and Julie mouths “Sorry” to her. “Are you going to do something about it or do you want me to take care of it?” Driven by fear of getting manhandled, Natty turns around and rushes to take her clothes off. Even with her back to everyone, she can feel the stares stabbing into her back. She feels so sick and dirty as she takes her sweater off and as she shimmies her pants off of her hips, she doesn’t realize she was involuntarily shaking her ass for everyone not until the man squeezes her butt.
Natty shivers in the cold room but it pales in comparison to being just in her underwear. Though it’s just the choreographer she has to be worried about, the lustful stare he gives her is enough to make her cry. Julie tries to console Natty but not a second later Natty hears a slap echo in the room, she looks up to see the choreographer in front of Julie who’s holding the side of her face.
The rest of the day goes pretty ok given the circumstances, mostly just going over the song and the choreography that went along with it, though their instructor occasionally helped himself to cop a feel while teaching and he seemed to be most interested in Natty, always focusing on her mistakes, groping and feeling every inch of her body as he “teaches” the dance.
The next day, Natty moves into the group’s dorm. “This time, it will be better,” she tells herself, maintaining that bright and optimistic perspective on life. She hopes that in the dorm it will be much funner and freeing, just her and her group mates living together and hanging out all the time. 
She opens the door and peers inside, to her surprise it’s really clean and quiet. Although she’s been very optimistic about things, deep down she was expecting similar horrors to what she has seen the previous days and seeing such a pristine and spacious living space is enough of a relief for her. After bringing her things through the door, Natty explores the place. In the living room there’s a huge flatscreen TV and a couch big enough to fit more than four people, and in the kitchen there’s lots of space available and a big fridge. Natty checks the fridge and salivates seeing lots of veggies and drinks inside, then she checks the freezer and almost falls to her knees from hunger seeing all the meat. Natty was about to slam the door shut when she notices a red dildo slightly hidden in one of the layers, she gives it a touch and confirms that it is ice cold. She blushes slightly, thinking that one of her group mates is kinky like that.
Natty hops over to the rooms, excited to see what those are like after seeing how extravagant the common areas are. She first checks on the room to the right, as she goes in she’s met with a very odd-looking room, half is very bland and empty while the other half is very decorated. “This must be my side,” she whispers while looking at the empty space. Over in the decorated half she sees Haneul fast asleep in her bed, seeing her wearing pajamas and not some skimpy outfit brings a smile to her face.
Natty closes the door gently as she makes her way to the next room. She barges through the door and immediately regrets it, the dorm which she expected to be their “safe space” away from the shit they have to go through at the company, turns out to just be an elegant looking prison. Natty was so happy about the place but unfortunately, it was too good to be true.
Natty sees three people all in one bed. Nearest to her is Belle, lying on her back and sobbing into her hands while a red dildo is shoved in her ass. Next to her is Julie and some man relentlessly pounding into her from behind. Only the man reacts to Natty’s arrival, looking over his shoulder to smile at Natty, it’s a different man, one Natty hasn’t met before. “Hi, Natty… I’m your… manager… Will you be a good girl and… pull that out of Belle?”
Natty should feel offended by such a crude question but after a week of “training,” she’s gotten to know better. Disgusted and disturbed yet Natty still drags her feet across the floor towards the three of them. “Just pull it out but do it slowly, don’t want to hurt her… even more,” he quickly adds the last part, chuckling as he does so, clearly enjoying himself at the expense of Julie’s and Belle’s pain. 
Natty glances at Belle, her face hidden in her hands, her body red and blue all over, her ass adorned with a bright red toy. She touches the base and immediately recalls her hand, it’s cold, ice cold. Natty considers herself a fool for even thinking for a moment that the freezer dildo was a kink thing, perhaps it might, but not for the person she thought it to be.
Belle’s quiet sobs turn to whines as Natty starts pulling the dildo out, the sound alone is enough to bring tears to Natty’s eyes, knowing that even though she’s helping, she’s still causing some pain. Natty continues to pull but at her slow pace it feels like it would take forever, she doesn’t even know how long the dildo is and as more inches get pulled out, the more worried she gets knowing how far it was in Belle and how much it could have hurt. 
Finally she pulls the thing out which calms Belle, her asshole closes back up, her body relaxes, and her cries die down. Natty looks at the dildo in her hand, the thing is almost as long as her forearm, she quickly throws it away and out of her sight.
Their manager turns to see that Natty has done what he requested, he gives Belle a slap on the ass and then Natty a pat on the head. “Oh nice… you’re a good girl... Natty… So here’s… your reward…” Before Natty could process anything he said or did, she feels her hair being yanked and her face quickly diving towards the bed. He makes her face to the side and starts to paint Natty in his cum. She hasn’t felt cum yet, let alone seen a dick in person, but the warmth and stench it leaves is enough for her to hate it.
“Wake Haneul up and have her clean you up, or you could just drink it all yourself, I wouldn’t mind. Just make sure to record, ok? When you’re done, Natty, meet me in my room, it’s at the end of the hall.”
And just like that he leaves, satisfied and so full of himself, while the three girls lay exhausted and broken.
Julie is the first one to recover among the three of them. “Let’s get you cleaned up. I’ll go get Haneul, he hates waiting too long.” Before Julie can step away, Natty grabs her wrist. “N-No! I’ll do it. I’ll… try to do it.”
“You sure? Alright then. My advice is just do it quickly. Hwaiting.” Julie flashes a weak smile and raises her fist for encouragement and Natty reciprocates the action. 
Julie takes her phone and starts recording. Natty sits at the edge of the bed with Belle just slightly out of the shot. Natty scoops up all the cum on the side of her face, just doing so disgusts her immensely. With most of the white liquid in her palm, she puts everything in her mouth and gulps it all down. For a second all is well but the aftertaste hits her like a truck and she starts coughing again and again. She expected to hate it but it was beyond awful. Only when Natty calms down does Julie stop recording.
“Go to his room, it’s on the left. I’ll just put this back in the freezer,” says Julie as she picks up the dildo from the floor.
“He hates waiting.” Natty repeats, with no time to rest, she gets to her feet and moves to the manager’s room. Natty’s hand reaches for the doorknob but she stops herself before she can even touch it. This time around she opts to knock instead of just barging in. “Come in,” says the voice from the other side. Natty enters the room, it looks much bigger and more grand than the other rooms, a bigger bed, a TV, a mini-fridge, it was practically its own apartment. “So nice of you to knock, you’re still dressed but that’s an easy fix.” 
She notices him ruffling through some stuff in his drawer, she tries to take a peek but he closes it before she can see what was inside. In his hands are a remote and a collar with her name on it. “We just met a few minutes ago but I think you’re my favorite already.” He puts the collar on her, tightening it so it fits exactly around her neck. “Whenever you’re here at the dorm, you have to wear this, ok? And everytime I press this button.” He raises the remote and clicks it, sending a small stinging sensation to Natty’s neck. “You have to come to me. It’s only at one right now but if you’re not here within five minutes of me clicking it, it goes up by one, permanently.” Natty gulps but with the collar snug around her neck, it made it a little uncomfortable. 
“Ok so where’s the video?”
“Ah, Ju-”
As her name is mentioned, Julie barges into the room, phone outstretched with the video ready to play.
“Ah, there it is. Thank you, Julie.” Julie hands her phone over and stands in place, like a robot waiting for her next command. “Aww, look at Belle sleeping so peacefully. Oh wonderful, drinking it all by yourself. See, I knew you would be my favorite.” He hands the phone back to Julie and she starts to leave but before she makes it out he issues one final order for her. “Julie, be a dear and get Haneul. She’s been sleeping all day, I haven’t had my fun with her yet. Actually, you know what? Now that Natty’s here, just get everyone.”
With just the two of them left in the room, he walks over to Natty. Seeing his erect dick twitching so much causes her to involuntarily step backwards and his brows suddenly furrow. “Now, now, Natty.” The sudden change in his tone and expression is enough to strike fear in her heart, afraid of a punishment she puts her foot back to its original spot causing his smile to return. 
“Sweaters. Always so annoying, I heard you’re huge but I can’t really tell with that stupid thing hiding your tits. From now on in the dorm, Natty, only wear tight tops. Oh, better yet, no tops at all. The only thing I want to see you wearing above your hips is that collar.” 
Instantly Natty’s hands start to move, getting rid of any clothing on her torso as soon as the new rule is implemented. She can see it in his eyes, hunger ever growing with each article of clothing she removes. As soon as her shirt comes off, he starts salivating. “My, oh my, you’re huge. Looks like Julie’s got competition.” Natty reaches behind herself to unhook her bra but pauses for a moment, she realizes this is the first time she would show her breasts to anyone, many have touched and played with them at the company but not one has unveiled her boobs. As her bra falls, his dick twitches in excitement. 
The rest of the group arrives. Belle is the first to enter, her legs very tired and her ass still very sore. Next comes Haneul, yawning and rubbing her eyes. Last is Julie, her head held high and her face serious, looking like a guard rounding up the inmates although she isn’t any less of a prisoner compared to the other girls in the room. The four just stand in silence like mannequins and their manager walks around and gropes whatever he pleases as if doing some inspection. 
“Haneul… what did we say?” says the manager very disappointedly. His tone shocks her awake, “I-I’m sorry,” she bows then starts getting out of her clothes. He scoots over to her and slaps her in the face. “I’ll let you off easy this time since Natty’s finally here but I’m doubling the next punishment.”
After Haneul, he moves over to Belle, whose legs are barely keeping her standing. “You cross me again, I’ll make sure you won’t even be able to walk for the rest of the day.” He punches Belle and she easily drops to the ground sobbing, he kicks her while she’s down to add insult to injury. Natty can only shiver upon hearing everything happen behind her, does she even want to know what Belle did to make him so mad?
He moves over to Julie and the first thing he does is spit on her face then he uses his fingers to smear it all over. Julie keeps her composure, just closing her eyes as he plays with her face, not flinching or whining at all. “You should thank Natty for being here, ‘cause you’ll finally have some time to rest.” His hands cup her breasts, giving them a proper feel before he moves on to a bigger and better pair. 
Finally he comes back around to Natty, the only person in the room with any piece of clothing still on. “Tell me, Natty… Have you fucked before?” Natty gulps again knowing the implications, though it was bound to happen eventually. She shakes her head and he smiles. “Oh, a virgin? So many people in that building and not one has fucked you? Well their loss, we’re gonna have so much fun together.”
“Change of plans girls, looks like I need some ‘catching up’ to do with Natty. Go do whatever you want for now, we’ll be here for a full day or two.” 
But just before he dismisses them, he goes back to Belle, still on the ground holding her side. He spits on her face too but this time he uses his foot to smear her face. “Don’t think I’m done with you just yet. Be ready for your final ‘lesson’ when I’m done with Natty. Now go, all three of you, leave.”
It’s wicked really, how sick and twisted all of this is, all the expectations Natty had, completely flipped around. Shining eyes looking up to her turns out to be lustful stares looking down, helping hands turn out to be forceful gropes, and managers turn out to be owners. Natty looks over her shoulder with tears starting to form in her eyes, though her hands remain still, her stare acts like a hand reaching out to save her from the depths of hell but alas, all Haneul and Julie could do is return similar sad gestures as they carry Belle away.
The manager locks the door as the three leave and immediately gets back to Natty, even with all the time in the world at his disposal, he wouldn’t want to waste a single second. With the rest of the group gone, Natty feels even more miniscule and useless, even more of a toy as his gaze is solely on her. He comes up behind her and fills his hands with her tits, with Julie’s he can still grasp the whole thing in his hands but Natty’s can barely be fully contained. He starts to fondle and play with her nipples while slowly moving his mouth closer to her neck.
Natty easily starts to moan loudly, she wants to keep quiet to avoid giving him that pleasure but her complete lack of experience and the resulting lack of tolerance betrays her. He sniffs along her neck, “You smell so good and your tits… so fucking soft.” He finds a patch of skin along the front of her neck and starts to kiss and suckle on it, Natty explodes into a moaning mess, shouting in pleasure as if she’s having the time of her life.
The pleasure gets cut short as his hands move down to her waist. “Sweatpants… another cock blocker. From now on, just don’t wear anything, Natty. Your body is so hot and irresistible, wouldn’t want any clothes hiding your beauty. Don’t worry about getting cold, just come to me and you’ll be warmed up in no time.” His fingers slip into the waistbands and he slides both her underwear and her sweatpants down to the ground. He’s the first one to see her tits and now he’s also the first one to see her bare ass and pussy. As much as she doesn't want to think about it, he probably will be the first dick she takes in every hole.
The manager circles Natty slack-jawed and wide-eyed as if admiring a sculpture he has just made. “Fat ass, soft and heavy tits, pretty face. You’re just the perfect little toy, aren’t you? And a virgin too, just the absolute best, if I could I would just own you forever but sadly I’ve got a job to do. Although… maybe I can have you be my roommate instead of Haneul’s, that’s probably the closest I’ll get.” He leans down and frowns at what he sees. “Unshaved, unfortunate, guess you can’t have absolutely everything but it’ll do. First thing I want you to do when you’re out of this room is get that shaved, got it?” Natty’s been unmoving and frozen in place for so long that it takes her a second before nodding her head.
The manager pushes Natty onto the bed then flips her to face him. Her full body is on display for him, each delicacy just sitting idle like food in a buffet, up for grabs at any time. He licks his lips as he considers his options. 
“Two virgin holes, which to try first? The other three bitches came here already used, so this will be a first for you and me.” He slaps his dick against her pussy, grinding on it and feeling the slight hint of wetness it’s giving off. Next he considers her asshole, very puckered and looking very small compared to the head of his cock as he pokes her with it. He licks a finger and prods inside, the way his finger barely pushes through excites him and the way Natty winces seals the deal for him. 
He lifts Natty’s legs up and hooks them over his shoulders, giving him a perfect angle to ravage her ass. He lines himself up and slowly pushes his way in, not even bothering to spread her cheeks to mitigate the tightness. Natty is already breathing heavily as she feels her asshole stretching to accommodate him. “Please,” she begs. “It… It won’t fit.”
He just smiles and caresses her cheek. “That’s the fun part, a tiny virgin asshole broken open by my cock. I’m gonna remember this forever.”
As soon as Natty’s sphincter spreads wide enough for his girth, he shoves the whole thing inside. “AHHHH!!! TAKE IT OUT! TAKE IT OUT!” Natty fires a blood-curdling scream as his cock swiftly overwhelms her. It hurt for him too given how dry her butt is but only barely, plus her cries only work to alleviate him. 
He locks her legs in his arms and her hips in his hands to keep her from moving. Her hands might be free but Natty doesn’t have the strength or the courage to lift them up. Her ass feels like it’s on fire from the dry friction between the two of them. To her, it’s like hell. To him, the fire feels like an invigorating force. 
Her anal walls hug him so tightly, it’s like Natty’s ass is begging him to fill her up and who is he to turn down such a request. Her ass is so tight, it’s practically milking him dry, any tighter and he might not be able to pull out. In just a few minutes he starts to orgasm, the hardest and fastest one he’s had with any of the four girls. He pulls out and scrambles to find his phone, wanting to cherish this moment forever. “Second load of cum and many more to go. You’re gonna be such a wonderful cum bucket, Natty, milking me everyday. You’re going to love my cum and my dick in no time.”
Natty tries to stand, to do something, anything, but her body is just worn out already, completely exhausted, completely given up. The manager, on the other hand, is the exact opposite, even after tearing Natty’s asshole apart, he’s still hard and ready for another round. This time he has his eyes set on her cherished virginity. 
He hooks her legs back onto his shoulders but this time he carries her then pins her to the wall with her wrists bound by his hand above her head. While flexibility isn’t a problem for Natty, she is now face to face with her assaulter. She closes her eyes and looks away but that doesn’t stop her from feeling his hot breath on her face. His tongue pokes out and licks along her cheek, tasting her tears and her sweat, he leaves a trail of his saliva as he travels from her jaw to her ear. “So salty, so delicious. Everything about you is so delicious, you know that? Now I’m gonna enjoy fucking your pussy, I’m gonna see just how tight you fucking are.”
Tears fall nonstop from her eyes. Natty’s sobbing grows strong as she feels his heat pressing against hers. She so badly wants to beg him to stop, to let her rest, but her voice can’t manage to form words and she knows he wouldn’t listen anyway. 
He lines himself up with her folds and in one swift motion, he pistons his cock inside. “AHHHH!!! FUCK! PLEASE!!!” her voice only manages to come back during moments of intense pain. “Oh, Natty, your cunt. Fuuuuuuck, that’s the best pussy ever.” Her pussy is heavenly, it’s so tight that it’s almost orgasmic when he penetrates her. He just loves the way Natty squeezes around him. He also loves hearing her cry out in pain, to him it’s like a choir of angels. He relishes in the feeling of Natty’s pussy, living in his own twisted version of heaven.
As he pounds into her from below, Natty’s tits bounce freely in front of him and he doesn’t waste a second as his mouth latches onto her chest, after all, a little side dish won’t hurt while he enjoys the main meal. He bites her nipples, pulling and squeezing them with his teeth, only adding more pain to what Natty is already experiencing.
The two of them fucked endlessly in that locked room while the other three finally got some rest, though they couldn’t quite live in blissful harmony as Natty’s screaming kept them aware of their situation, the walls were thin enough to let Natty’s wails of terror flood the whole dorm. While the other three girls were able to sleep through it, in the morning they still heard Natty screaming and begging, though her voice much weaker and hoarser. 
There’s just so much to do with Natty, just pure lust and adrenaline fueling the manager all throughout the night. All the positions he could take her in, all the things he can do, all the possibilities, everything that Natty’s body can offer, he takes. He fucked her all over the room, didn’t even matter how or where, he just slams her down somewhere and fucks her in whatever hole he felt fit. He fucked her face against the wall, then fucked her ass while he pressed her face onto the floor, then fucked her pussy while missionary on the floor, then fucked her ass doggystyle on the bed, then fucked her face while her head hung off the bed, then fucked her ass in the shower. Just so much cum in and on her body in the span of a couple of hours and yet he is still going strong.
The next day comes around and there doesn’t seem to be any lapse in their action. Stretching from before the rise of the sun all the way to after it set, just endless screaming of pure pain and agony coming from Natty. The only time the manager interacted with the rest of the girls was when he asked Julie to cook up a meal for them. The door finally opened again for the first time in two days as Julie brought her cooking.
“Ah, pork belly, I’m starving. Thank you so much, Julie. I see you’ve gotten comfortable without me pestering you all the time,” he says as he sees Julie wearing some pajamas. “Oh, two plates? We won’t be needing that,” he chuckles as he returns the second set of utensils as well. Just before the door closes, Julie takes a peek over his shoulder and sees Natty practically lifeless on the floor. The manager gives Julie a quick smile, proud of his own work, then locks the door.
The manager walks over to the bed and nudges Natty with his foot before getting himself comfortable. Natty, almost void of all energy, springs to life as she smells the delicious food. Natty sits patiently, silently jealous as she stares at her manager eating all by himself. He points to his dick and Natty can only sigh as she lowers her face in front of it. 
The manager puts his hand on the back of her head and Natty opens her mouth, but instead of pushing down he says, “Let’s play a game, Natty. If you make me cum before I finish the food, you can have the rest of it.”
Natty doesn’t exactly have much knowledge on how to pleasure a dick, her only experience being the one dick that’s been forced in her body the past two days. She’s already come to terms with the fact that she might not eat for two days straight but regardless she tries her best. 
Natty employs the small pieces of advice she’s heard him tell her. Even though she’s basically just moving her head along his length, judging from his moans he seems to be enjoying it so she goes faster. 
“Fuck, Natty. Fuck… I’m gonna cum…” He takes over this time, gripping the back of her head as she immediately chokes. “Don’t… swallow it, fuck.” He struggles to squeeze his words out of his mouth as another orgasm makes its way into Natty’s mouth, only this time around it pools on her tongue. She already hates cum to begin with, cringing inside whenever she would taste it but with a whole load lingering in her mouth, revolting is an understatement. She struggles to hold it all in, not just because of the taste but also because of how much he gave her, her cheeks are full and just a little more it would probably overflow. 
He holds the plate of what’s about a quarter of the total meat still left on it. “Spit,” he commands and without hesitation she opens her mouth and deposits the batch onto the plate. “Go on, everything, spit into it.” She does as ordered, mixing the remnants with saliva and spitting onto the food. He spits onto the plate as well and mixes the meat with the “sauce” then puts it on the other side of the bed from her. “Go eat.”
Natty tries to get up and walk to the other side but the manager has other plans. He grabs her hair again and pulls her across the bed, forcing her to kneel down. “Come on, eat up.” He moves over behind her and lines up with her pussy. “Don’t waste anything, when you’re done I want that plate clean.” Natty stares at the disgusting abomination in front of her and she feels even more disgusted and degraded knowing that even when it comes to food she’s being treated like a dog. Her stomach gurgles, no matter how disgusting the food may be, she still has to eat. Natty tries to look at the brighter side of things, at the very least she’s eating actual food and not some slop that looks inedible. 
On the third day of her imprisonment, Natty is completely exhausted and broken. She just lies on her back, barely even reacting to anything her manager does anymore, there’s cum on almost every inch of her body and yet she doesn’t bother to clean it. 
Julie knocks to bring them breakfast, the manager gets the door but instead of just taking the food he tells Julie to give it to Natty. “She’s not fun anymore so I’ll be going back to you guys. And besides, the company is looking for her, can’t have her here forever.” As soon as the manager leaves, Julie rushes over to Natty and tends to her. 
The manager, clearly unsatisfied with Natty’s unresponsiveness and clearly needing a release, turns to Belle for release.
“AHHH!!! Wait, no, please… I’m sorry.” He barges into her room and she immediately shrieks upon seeing him. In the short span of two days, she’s gotten used to not being around him but here he is to remind her of her place. “I promise I won’t do it again, I—” She tries to get away but she’s stuck in the corner and all she can do is sink herself further into it. He doesn’t stop or even think for a second about what he’s doing, he just walks up and punches her face, adding another bruise to the multiple he’s given her. 
“Haneul? Get in here!” he shouts at the top of his lungs. While waiting, he pulls Belle’s face to the edge of the bed and starts facefucking her, all the while alternating between slapping her tits and punching her pussy. 
“Haneul?!” he calls again after a few minutes. After cumming down Belle’s throat and Haneul still hasn’t arrived, he marches over to her room. Not really to his surprise, he finds Haneul sleeping soundly in her bed. For one second he smiles, admiring her beauty before proceeding to ruin it. 
He punches her which brings her wide awake. He tugs her hair to bring her face close to his. “Always sleeping, you lazy cunt. Maybe you need a lesson too.” Haneul screams and thrashes as she’s dragged across the floor by her hair towards Belle’s room.
The next few days and weeks go by with the members somewhat getting used to and coping with the treatment that they are going through. Lots of practicing and “training” happens at the company, mostly the latter, then their manager has fun with them at the dorm. At the very least their manager is kind, all things considered, just as long as they follow his orders, so they still get to somewhat relax at the dorm. And whenever no one is using their bodies, the girls hang out, talk with each other, and comfort each other, growing a bond and giving each other hope to carry on until they debut.
The month ends and it’s finally time for Kiss of Life to debut. The four are no doubt incredibly excited, they finally get to wear clothes that cover most of their body, finally have some time away from the perverts, and most of all, they finally get to debut and live out their dreams of being K-pop idols, though little do they know what their company still has in store for them, even in public view.
A/N 2: So if you made it here, congratulations, you're as much of a degenerate as I am :). Anyway, while part 1 is mostly focused on Natty, part 2 would likely be four "mini-fics" in one, each focusing on one member. Subject to change but most likely it would be like that
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kkami-writes · 30 days
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waiting for us — chapter fifty one. the wedding cw. smut!, semi-public sex (bathroom), piv, protected sex (shout out to condoms) wc. 1,965 + 4 ss a/n: THIS IS UNEDITED. I FINALLY FUCKING FINISHED THIS MY GOD. I'm so sorry this took forever...that's my bad <3 hopefully the motivation keeps rolling and i'll finally finish this fic.
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The ceremony had been perfect, something right out of the pages of a fairy tale. The venue had been small since they had kept it to close family and friends but it still had been breathtaking. Minghao had made you his best “man” and there was no place you’d rather be than next to your best friend on the most important day of his life. (and if you cried while they were reciting their vows, you’d never tell. Though Minghao had taken plenty of pictures of you ugly crying to store in his blackmail folder.)
It was probably inappropriate to daydream during a wedding, but Jeongin couldn’t help himself. You were standing up there, looking absolutely breathtaking, it was hardly his fault that his mind had wondered what you would look like, dressed in all white at their own wedding.
If he was honest, he never expected to get married. Well, he supposed that’s wrong. While he does in fact plan on getting married eventually to all his soulmates, before you had come into the picture that had agreed that a ceremony between eight people would be a little hectic. He didn’t need some grand ceremony to show his love but for now, he could dream of seeing you in a wedding dress for now.
The reception is just as gorgeous as the actual wedding, with lavish decorations and a crystal chandelier.
Currently you were being dragged from table to table, both Minghao and Jun introducing you to people like you were their child. (though Minghao would argue that him and Jun were indeed your dads).
From across the room you can feel a pair of eyes on you, practically burning a hole into your flesh from his heated gaze. Jeongin was sat at your assigned table, a drink forgotten in front of him while he stared you down. His gaze is enough to set you aflame, cheeks reddened from how intense his eyes felt against you, not so subtly running along your body. The boy was practically eye fucking you from across the room, not a shameful bone in his body. It was quite distracting as you tried to introduce yourself to Jun’s grandmother.
The two of you make eye contact and it’s impossible to look away, his deep chocolate eyes captivating you. Jeongin’s tongue darts out to wet his bottom lip, your eyes following the movement and the cheeky fucker smirks, knowing he’s caught you in his web. With a subtle nod towards the bathrooms, he gets up, suddenly paying you no mind before striding in the direction he directed you to. It leaves you a little mystified, blinking and frozen in place. You clear your throat, turning to Jun with a small smile.
“Excuse me Junnie,” You mumble before escaping the male’s grasp, but he lets you go easily enough, too caught up in a different conversation.
As you make your way towards the bathrooms there’s a sense of heat that starts to fill your lower belly, a wave on anticipation for whatever Jeongin has up his sleeve. It fills you with excitement, hands practically shaking as you open the door.
The bathrooms are one of those fancy single ones, lights dim and fancy expensive soap. You don’t have time to admire the decore as Jeongin pins you back against the door, the tell tale click of the door being locked. He doesn’t hesitate to press his lips to yours, practically devouring you. It’s all teeth and tongue, groaning into your mouth desperately. The sound goes straight to your pussy.
Jeongin presses against you, already hard in his slacks, hips rutting up against you.
“Fuck. Do you even know how good you look?” His voice is raspy and deep, sounding already so gone. You can’t help but giggle, rather enjoying the effect you have on the boy.
“Mm, I have no idea,” You singsong. “Maybe you should tell me,” Your words illicit another groan from the boy before he’s picking you up and carrying you over to the counter and setting you down there. Perhaps the way he had lifted you up like it was nothing turned you on further, it would seem your baby bread has been accompaning his hyungs to the gym more often.
Jeongin runs his hands up until they’re splayed across your thighs, easy access thanks to the slit in your dress. His lips are on yours again, this time much softer, taking his time to savor your taste. Meanwhile his hands grope and squish at the soft flesh of your thighs, fingers running up until they hook under the waistband of your panties, pulling them down to your ankles.
You let out a gasp as his long fingers make contact with your wet core and Jeongin takes the opportunity to slide his tongue into your awaiting mouth. You’re completely at his mercy, deft fingers circling your clit and his tongue stealing your breath away.
“So wet,” His voice is deep, slightly gruff as he nips at your now swollen tiers. “Eager are we?” The cocky tone makes you want to roll your eyes at him, but they’re rolling to the back of your head anyway as he easily slides a digit into your core, a whine falling from your lips. “Look so good like this for me,”
You can vaguely hear the sound of the music that’s blasting in the venue, the walls of the bathroom muting it but even then, the sound of your slick echoes lewdly in your ear and it heats your body up.
Jeongin is so content like this, watching you fall apart on the counter, soft moans filtering from your lips as he’s lazily thrusts his fingers into you. As much as he would love to take his time with you, his cock is starting to ache, still trapped in the confines of his slacks.
“Can I fuck you baby?” He asks against your ear, pressing soft kisses to your earlobe and trailing them down your neck. You nod your head, probably a little too eagerly but there’s pretty much nothing on your mind besides Jeongin’s cock splitting you in half. But then you remember something important and it makes you whine.
“Innie…you don’t have a condom do you?”
The question makes him freeze and if he wasn’t literally two fingers deep in your cunt you would have laughed at his bewildered facial expression. But then suddenly he’s pulling out of you, a whimper leaving your lips at the loss of his fingers filling you up. Jeongin is frantically patting at his slacks, as if searching for something, leaving you slightly baffled at the sight. Finally he pulls his wallet out and from it, produces a singular condom.
“Seungminnie hyung said I should keep one in my wallet just in case…never really thought anything about it. I’m gonna kiss that man later,” His words make you snort, shaking your head at how silly he is. But if you were honest, you’d probably kiss Seungmin later for the same reason.
The two of you don’t waste anymore time, remembering you are in a public space, at your best friends wedding for goodness sake. In your defense, your brain is no longer working, especially when Jeongin is bending you over the (very nice) counter, moving the skirt of your dress aside and slipping your panties down your legs.
You arch your back just slightly, legs spreading to give the boy a peak at your glistening folds and Jeongin swears he could probably cum in his pants. He’s quick to slide the condom over his almost painful erection, coming close to press his chest to your back, trailing kisses along your shoulder. He ruts his cock against your soaked core before positioning in front of your entrance. With how aroused you are, it’s an easily glide in, just a slight stretch that feels all too good.
Jeongin lets out a borderline pornographic moan when he bottoms out, your wet warm heat squeezing his cock feels heavenly and he already knows he’s not gonna last very long. He shudders against your body as he holds you tightly, large hands splayed across your torso.
“Fuck- You feel so fucking good,” He groans, needing just a second to calm himself down before he blows his load already. You can barely register his words, not faring any better. The sensation of being so full, of having your soulmates cock buried inside your heat is a feeling you don’t think you’ll ever get used to.
The two of you simply relish in the moment for a second and while maybe Jeongin might have jumped the gun on your first time together, he promises that the next time he’ll take his time to savor you. For now he just wants to feel you coming apart on his cock.
He moves his hips rather expertly, rocking into you with strong thrusts and you feel yourself further melting into the cool counter, the drag of Jeongin’s cock against your gummy walls feels too fucking good. Any and all thoughts are leaving your head, the only thing you care about is the heady pleasure that builds steadily in the pit of your stomach.
Jeongin is pressed flush against your back, sucking marks into your skin and whispering sweet dirty words into your ear and you feel yourself getting closer and closer to your peak.
“Such a good girl, hm? Taking my cock so well. You feel so good baby…I’m not gonna last long,” He nips at the back of your ear and you nod your head in agreement.
“Innie! I-Innie…” You’re mumbling his name over and over like a chant, your walls clenching around his length sporatically. “I’m so close…gonna, gonna cum,” You gasp out, the rubber band threatening to snap each time the tip of his cock hits that spot deep inside of you. He brings a finger to your clit, rubbing the swollen button in circles.
“Go ahead baby, cum all over my cock,” He says with a grunt, thrusts somehow getting even harsher and the sound of skin slapping reverberates against the walls.
It doesn’t take much longer before you’re gushing around his cock, coming with a whimper. Jeongin does his best to fuck you through your orgasm but with the way your walls clench around him has him spilling into the condom not too far after you. Both of you need a moment to catch your breath, slowly coming down from the euphoria of such an act. Jeongin seems to collect himself before you, not even noticing him pulling out. You only finally come out of your haze when you feel something damp against your skin.
Jeongin is cleaning you up, even if he didn’t cum inside, you can still feel your own release against your thighs. Slowly, he also helps you pull your panties back up before picking you up to settle you on the counter. He fusses over you, smoothing your hair down and fixing your dress and your heart flutters in your chest at how attentive the younger boy is after having just dicked you down. You giggle before wrapping your arms around him, pulling him into a sweet kiss, one that he happily melts into.
When you two pull away, he’s giving you that bright fox-like smile, dimples practically blinding you as he helps you off the counter.
“C’mon baby. Let’s go dance and hope that your friends didn’t notice your disappearance,” You snort.
“Even if they didn’t, I think the hickies speak for themselves,” Jeongin has the gall to blush, his tongue running along his teeth.
“Sorry, not sorry,”
“You are such a brat,”
“Guilty!”
You roll your eyes, spanking him before moving towards the door.
“Let’s go dance baby bread,”
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ssahotchnerr · 1 year
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Everyone on the team receives an anonymous hand made Valentine’s card, except for Hotch. He tries not to show his disappointment and quickly walks away into his office while the team try to guess who has made then. Later in the day, when the others have gone home, reader knocks at Hotch’s office door, saying something like that they wanted to give him his card personally because it’s even more special than the ones for the team. And it’s an invitation to dinner.
something good
happy valentine's day pt 2! 🥰 cw; a touch of angst, alcohol mention, fluff!!!!
aaron should've known.
he was viewed as the boss, and that was that. merely a position of authority; not necessarily a colleague, and not necessarily a friend.
and it's always been that way. groups quieted upon his approach, eye contact was scarce amidst conversations- as if meeting his gaze would give him reason to absolutely rip them to shreds. by now, enduring so for years, he'd gotten used to it. he had to. so why should he expect to be treated any differently?
however, he refused to lie to himself, he'd give himself that. he didn't try to fight the stinging sensation in his chest, which had been present all day. it hurt, hearing and seeing the team gushing over valentines that had been placed anonymously on their desks that morning. trying to use their profiling skills to determine who had done such; penelope nearly stirred up a frenzy, morgan's laugh had rang loudly through the bullpen, everyone had compared the kind messages left for them.
meanwhile, aaron's desk had been empty. and he simply observed the joyful scene from the safety of his office.
whoever was responsible- the thought would've been nice, at least.
valentine's day was just like any normal day, if it weren't for the cards strategically placed amongst the desks, aaron probably wouldn't have even recalled the holiday to begin with.
that, however, was the lie. he knew what day it was. february fourteenth had been special, years ago. but now, it instead brought an impending sense of dread, one that was impossible to ignore; the reminder of yet another day spent alone. his night, when he finally made it home, would more likely than not consist of a glass of whisky and maybe a few episodes of law and order before crashing.
"hotch? you have a second?"
your voice caused him to lift his head, pulling him from his sea of thoughts. "yes?"
"i- um. wanted to give you this."
aaron's eyes perked up instantly, and a touch of embarrassment quickly swept through him. he felt childish almost, at his eagerness; the want to be included.
"i'm sure you noticed, the valentines." with the pink slip in your hand, you used to to reference the bullpen. "penelope wasn't very subtle about it."
"i did." aaron commented, hoping the blush present in his cheeks wasn't too visible. one of his eyebrows quirked up in question. "and they were from you?"
you bit down on your bottom lip, but the action didn't quite stop your smile. "guilty."
"well, that was very thoughtful of you. it lifted everyone's spirits, that's for sure."
"yeah i thought... i don't know. every day we come in to heaps of files on our desk, and aren't exactly doing jumping jacks at the sight of them. so i thought it'd be nice to have something different, for once. something good."
aaron's lips almost pulled into a smile, recalling the earlier antics and his next inquiry caused your cheeks to flush. "and you sent yourself one?"
"hey, self love." you were quick to quip back, laughing softly but with a shake of your head. "i was trying to be discrete. if i were the only one to not receive a card, that'd be awfully suspicious and defeat the whole purpose, don't you think?"
'if i were the only one', aaron's chest warmed. you hadn't forgotten him, there had been one with his name on it all along.
"but..." you adjusted your weight from one foot to the other, suddenly exhibiting nervousness. aaron recognized your small movement, knowing it as one of your tells. that, and your habit of chewing the inside of your cheek. "yours, i wanted to hand deliver."
aaron couldn't hide the surprise in his voice. "you did?"
"it's special. like you." you rushed out in a breath, and if aaron's blush hadn't been present before- it definitely was now. you handed the valentine to him rather quickly, before you could chicken out. "and i wanted you to know it was from me."
silence fell over aaron, feeling absolutely touched. he didn't know what to say.
"happy valentine's day." you gave him another smile, still leaving him speechless, and heading out of his office.
before you had fully exited the room, aaron opened the valentine. his eyes skimmed over your loopy handwriting- and the feeling in his chest intensified. the contents included you thanking him, for looking out for you and the team as a whole. you had emphasized how safe he made you feel, and how you felt extremely lucky to have someone like him protecting you in midst of the horrors you saw daily. he gave you a comfort you never thought possible, and you couldn't picture receiving so from anyone else. the ending however, made his heart skip a beat.
and whenever you're free- dinner? you and me?
he's always been drawn to you, in more ways than another, but he had never acted upon them. he couldn't quite figure out how to approach you like that, and he regretted every chance he didn't take. but now, you've given him the perfect opportunity.
aaron, paperwork completely forgotten and disregarded, didn't hesitate to go after you. "wait!"
you met his gaze as he exited his office- you had just begun collecting your things to head home. everyone else had already gone.
"yes?" a smile tugged at your lips, heart fluttering.
"i'm free right now. if... you are?"
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Text
Autumn Embers Verse
Omegaverse AU where people who are compatible have complementary scents.
Your friends assure you that the bar they’re dragging you to is nicer than it looks online. You highly doubt that, but you’re willing to go along until the three of them get bored and decide to get a car to the club district. And they will get bored, because you recognize the name and address that they’re trying to go to. You’ve never been, but some of your new coworkers on the base have invited you out for drinks and pool.
When Christie flounces out in a bright pink mini-dress, you can’t help but grin. “You look great. Super cute. But I don’t think that’s the vibe of the bar.”
Admittedly, you’re dressed a bit less conservatively than the bar might call for. But you feel cute in your black skater skirt and white top. Styled with floral lace stockings, boots, and silver jewelry, it’s more dressing up than you’ve been able to do in the last 6 months.
“I’m not dressing for the military bar,” Christie says, checking her makeup in the hall mirror before dropping on the couch next to you. She tosses her brown hair over one shoulder and pulls out her phone to order a car. “I’m dressing for when Mel and Jack decide they’re done shopping for alphas and want to go to the club.”
“Military packs are already cohesive,” Jack sniffs, emerging from the hall in cute jeans, a mesh top, and a sensible jacket. Behind him, Mel is dressed very similarly, though they’ve opted for cargo pants. “It’s not impossible that we might find a couple of someones who might be interesting.”
“If nothing else, they’ll buy you drinks,” you concede. “Pretty sure they have pool tables. If there’s one open, maybe we play a couple of rounds. Give Jack a chance to bend over and show off.”
The car, when it arrives, is a little small, but the four of you pile in gamely. You sit in the front, since your hips need the room. The driver gives a smile and a nod through his cloth mask and starts driving as soon as your seatbelt is secure. You reflexively drop the window a bit, though it’s already open. It makes sense - driving groups around all night definitely lends itself to a lot of conflicting scents.
In the back, Chrissy’s floral omega scent plays well with Jack and Mel’s sweet beta and omega mix. The very subtle floral notes of your own scent don’t clash too badly, but the base note of charcoal does sometimes leave people’s noses a bit confused. You catch the moment the driver catches a hint of your scent and darts a look at you, but he doesn’t say anything. You occupy yourself on your phone for the fifteen minute drive, tuning out Chrissie and Jack’s complaints about work.
When you arrive, the bar is just about what you expected. Run-down in a lived-in kind of way but clean. Dim and quiet. The exact opposite of Jack and Chrissie, but that doesn’t stop them from swanning in through the doors and making their way immediately to the bar. You and Mel follow behind. You make eye contact with a couple of people you kind of recognize, give a quirk of a smile as a greeting.
By the time you’ve decided what to drink, Chrissie and Jack have already charmed a trio of alphas into conversation and a promised game of pool. Mel leans into Jack’s back and introduces themself in their quiet way. You give your name with a wave before ordering a whiskey sour.
“Put their drinks on our tab,” one of the alphas says. He holds his hand out to you to shake. “Daniels. I’ve seen you on base before, yeah?”
“I’ve been working admin for a couple of months,” you confirm as you shake his hand. He’s polite enough not to try to rub wrists on a first meeting, at least. His scent reminds you of the bakery near your house. “It’s not a bad job.”
Once everyone has their drinks and the group makes their way over to one of the open pool tables, you think you could have a pretty good night. Daniels and his friends, Bennet and Bakshi, are actually pretty fun. They’re obviously flirting with Chrissie and Jack (and Mel, by extension), but they’re not ignoring you. Daniels and Bakshi, at least, include you in the conversation and ask questions about your job, how you all know each other, where you’re from.
When Bakshi manages to pull Mel into a conversation about video games and cyber security, you and Chrissie excuse yourselves to the restroom.
“I should have worn jeans,” she sighs. “This is really fun, but kind of a waste of an outfit.”
You’re about to laugh when you pass by a table and make eye contact with a man you’ve only seen in passing before. You recognize Sergent MacTavish by his mohawk, and give him a little half smile. Then you notice Captain Price and Sergent Garrick. The blond in a skull themed cloth mask can only be Lieutenant Riley. You give all four of them a startled little nod of acknowledgment, and then Chrissie is tugging you into the bathroom.
You’ve never met anyone from Task Force 141 before. Any time you’ve heard of them, at least two have been sent off somewhere across the world. You don’t have the clearance to deal with any of their reports, but you know enough to understand that they’re practically rock stars.
“Five quid, Jack and Mel have all three of their numbers by the end of the night,” Chrissie interrupts your musing as she checks her makeup in the mirror. As usual, she’s perfect, and you hear her take a selfie.
“Ten quid, Bennet asks for yours,” you counter from the stall.
“No bet, he’s already asked.” Chrissie answers. “But he’s a tool.”
“You like tools.”
“That’s true. It’s the muscles.” she agrees. “If he asks me on a proper date, I won’t say no.”
“Not a waste of a dress, then,” you point out before flushing and making your way to wash your hands. “Is he wearing scent blockers? I can’t get a bead on him.”
“He’s a subtle bit of tobacco leaf. Bakshi is nutmeg and Daniels-”
“Daniels smells like fresh bread,” you finish.
“Oh, ho, ho,” Chrissie chuckles, leaning her hip on the counter as you wash your hands. “Took notice did you?”
“We shook hands.” You roll your eyes. “Kind of hard not to notice.” When you step out of the bathroom, you’re startled to see Sergent MacTavish leaning against the wall on his phone. His eyes snap up to yours and he stands up to his full height. He’s bigger than you expected, and you find yourself helpless to hold his stare. When he smiles, you feel yourself flush.
“Evenin’, bonnie lass,” he says, after a moment. “C’n I get a moment of your time?”
Chrissie practically skips the couple of steps away to stand at the entrance of the hall leading to the bathrooms. She doesn’t quite abandon you with a strange alpha, but she does turn her back and pull out her phone.
Before you can comment on her absence, or introduce yourself, or even think about what to say, MacTavish has stepped close. His scent, something warm and earthy and somehow also floral, floods your senses. At the same time, he leans down to hover his nose just short of touching your temple. You can’t help but blush harder at how bold he’s being. The way he takes your scent into his lungs is just this side of vulgar.
“So it has been you we’ve been scenting around base,” he chuckles, taking a deliberate step back and leaning back against the wall again. He crosses big arms across his chest and smiles. “Gaz’s been tying himself in knots trying to catch more than faded hints near the caf’.”
What are you supposed to say to that? “…Sorry? I’m new to the base.”
He grins. “Well, I’m glad you’re around. Sergent MacTavish.” He doesn’t offer his hand, but considering the how rude he was before, it’s not like he needs to.
You stammer an introduction and decide to make your retreat. “It was, um, nice to meet you, Sergent. I have to get back to my friends.” “Be seeing you around, hen,” he says, and doesn’t move as you make your retreat.
As soon as you’re clear of the hall, you make the mistake of looking that the 141’s table. All of their eyes snap to your face as soon as you’re visible. You almost freeze under their attention, but Chrissie rescues you. She takes your arm and practically marches you across the bar to rejoin Jack and Mel, who immediately pull you close to drag you into some debate about music.
You can’t contribute much to the conversation. Thank goodness for Chrissie, who gleefully carries the discussion. You’re too distracted to do much more than give vague agreements for a long time.
At the end of the night, when you and your friends leave the bar, you chance a glance toward the 141’s table. Four pairs of eyes stare back.
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ghcstao3 · 6 months
Text
second time i'm putting ghost and tommy in a band just because
but them being pretty big in the underground punk scene but never straying from that local-band vibe even after they've attracted a decent following. their plan had never been to go big, just to make music, so that's what they do.
johnny's a frequenter of underground shows, and he just so happened to catch word of one when he's in manchester for whatever reason. so of course he goes, uncaring if he knows any names, because music is music, and he's just there for a good time.
when simon and tommy's band comes onto the stage, johnny is absolutely enamoured with the band. somehow it's just about everything he likes all meshed into one act, and while the frontman is energetic, and has seemingly perfected that line between professional and amateur in his sound, and the drummer and guitarist all the same—johnny's eyes are on the bassist the entire time.
his smeared eyeliner and half-obscured face, his messy hair and bloodied knuckles like he'd just come fresh from a fight before playing. his casual stance and dark eyes and—it's no wonder johnny subconsciously worms his way to the very front just to gaze up at the man from up close.
shame johnny hadn't caught the band's name when it had been announced. he feels a sudden need to follow them along all of their shows.
which, speaking of—once the set is over, johnny does the stupid thing of trying to find where the band heads off to. he'd done it once or twice before, and usually shows like this lend the acts to spend time with the crowd as a part of it at some point, so it's not... so difficult.
he doesn't end up finding the band—at least, not all of it.
because in the alley of the venue, johnny finds the bassist smoking, face now fully exposed as he brings a cigarette to his lips.
with nothing to lose but his dignity, johnny sidles up to the man as casually as he can manage, as if he hadn't just become a big fan.
"great gig," johnny says. "how long have you been playing?"
the bassist barely spares him a glance. "few years now. s'there somethin' i can help you with or what?"
his voice is a pleasant rumble in johnny's chest, as low and steady as the bass itself. his tone is indifferent, though, and johnny thinks to change that.
"only lookin' for a name." johnny shrugs, leaning perhaps a bit too close.
the bassist finally looks to him, a mild confusion written into his face. up close, his eyes are impossibly darker, voids johnny thinks he could gladly sink into.
"simon," he eventually supplies. "that it?"
johnny grins. "maybe. you have other shows coming up? haven't heard you guys before, and i have a bit of a thing for live music."
simon stares at him a moment. if johnny watched close enough—which he certainly does—he'd notice the subtle upwards quirk of simon's lips.
"we have gigs planned, yeah. you have a pen? i'll write the date for you."
johnny frowns, just a bit, before searching his person for something to write with.
the best he manages is an eyeliner pencil, but apparently it's good enough for simon to take johnny's arm to write on his skin. the drag of the pencil across his skin is harsh, though it's hardly simon's fault.
johnny watches simon's face the entire time, the lit cigarette dangling from his lips. he never once questions why he couldn't have just been told the date.
"try not to rub it," simon advises once he's finished, straightening his back and offering the pencil back to johnny. "see you around..."
"john," he says. he tucks the pencil away, never bothering to glance at his arm.
"johnny," simon decides instead, taking one last drag of his smoke before snubbing it out on the brick wall and flicking it to the ground. he brushes past johnny and disappears back inside through a door johnny hadn't previously noticed.
it isn't until much too late that johnny looks down and sees that a date had not, in fact, been written on his arm—but rather, a phone number.
cheeky bastard.
the worst part is that johnny still doesn't know the band's name.
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wellofdean · 3 months
Text
Thinking about @luckshiptoshore and her liveblog of watching Supernatural and how much I love following it and how great it is to watch someone just fucking ENJOY the show...
And then, there were a couple of people in my Discord who love the fic, but have never watched the show, and folks in there were trying to convince them that it was worth watching (duh!) and that knowing the show by heart makes the fic so much better and like yes, again... DUH! And then I was suddenly overcome with such a feeling of ENVY for all the people who still have the chance to watch Supernatural for the first time already knowing what happens in the end.
I mean, I watched 14 years of it in real time (after downloading and bingeing season 1) and at least I was clever enough not to be in the fandom trenches that whole time, and just enjoyed it for what it was, but the end broke my brain, and changed the whole show for me.
Because, like, here's what happens in Supernatural by the end: Dean and Cas are in love. It was not subtle. Dean can't say it because he never has a single moment of not being up to his pretty, pretty eyeballs in dealing with the ongoing and constantly multiplying trauma of being the man his father raised him to be, and god's specialest boy to boot, but in the end, Cas finally does just fucking say it. Not only that, he waits until he can use it to save Dean, and show him once and for all in an incontrovertible, undeniable way exactly how deeply and truly loved and SEEN he is.
When you watch it knowing that, knowing that the the whole story is going to end in that stupid bunker dungeon with Cas telling Dean who he is and dying to save him, the whole thing just HITS DIFFERENT, because the Dean of season one with his outcast liminality and pretty, pretty lips is the poor, lonely, weird boy who will one day be loved like that by Castiel, an angel of the lord -- an impossible Eldritch being who learned what love and selfhood are from closely observing Dean.
The consensus amongst most Supernatural fans is that it is trashy and bad and that its all evil queerbaiting, but I would contend that it's actually deeply entertaining, culturally rich and interesting (yes, even its flaws and missteps), often impressively well-written and acted, never puts on any airs about being prestige television or high art, but still manages to be ultimately epic and somehow sublime, and that it's a queer story, about queer love saving the universe, and it is so, so worth watching.
Like, my brainworms are not 'they strung me along all that time and then never let them make out', by brainworms are 'they told us so many times and in so many big and small ways, and now I need to watch every bit of it again and again and again so I can finally REVEL IN IT (and, friends, that is the Supernatural rewatch journey: realising it was ALWAYS THERE). My brainworms aren't 'but does Dean reciprocate??' they are: 'of course he loves Cas, and of course Cas knows that Dean loves him, and the one thing Cas can't have? That's just his chance at happiness and a soft epilogue with and for Dean, because Cas, impossible, cosmic, Eldritch being Cas, traded his chance at happiness for his family's lives and sacrificed himself for love of his son and Dean, because that is what you do when you love someone, and what he has watched Dean never stop doing for even a minute of his beleaguered life.'
And then, Dean dies (yes, it's stupid), and he cannot just go to heaven, drink a beer and hang out, he needs to climb into his magic soul vehicle, hit the axis mundi and tear the universe up looking for his angel and his happy ending in The Winchesters? Fuck me.
And like, it's the most romantic, and devastating story I have ever been told? And I love it so much?
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undertheorangetree · 9 months
Text
Our Gentle Sin
Saltwic
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Summary- Confessions are made after the Battle of Beamfleot.
Warnings- MDNI 18+ NSFW. Female Reader. Fluff. Angst. Dialogue stolen from the show. Reader has hair at least shoulder length. Dry humping. The fluffiest smut to ever exist. P in v sex. Lots of feelings.
Author's Note- This is apart of Our Gentle Sin. I honestly adore this series and the dynamic I created here so here’s a fluffy ass fourth part💕 as usual the rest is on AO3!!
find the series masterlist here
dividers by firefly-graphics
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She remembers the first time she ever met him. She had managed to track Uhtred down to Winchester, had cornered them all at an alehouse as she attempted to persuade them to let her join their group. Seeing him had thrown her off, an obvious sore thumb amongst a group of hardened warriors. Arms lacking the corded muscles of his companions, still skinny in the way men are when they’re only just out of boyhood. His hair had still been cut in the way of a novice and he had looked at her as if he was unused to seeing women, which she was sure he was. This one is no warrior, she had thought, and had gone as far as to use him as an example for them to consider her.
You’ve allowed the king’s bastard to join you, she had said. And he is little more than a monk. Surely allowing a girl would be no different.
Finan had been apprehensive but Sihtric had vouched for her and Uhtred had agreed, their heathen upbringing leaving them more than familiar with warrior women. The monk had stayed silent and she had gone out of her way to apologize to him later that night.
He had looked at her like a startled deer and his eyes had gone wide when she touched his arm but he had managed to swallow his discomfort long enough to say, “You meant no offense, lady. I am already giving them reason to allow me to stay. I will simply have to convince you as well.”
And he had convinced her, though it was not with his martial prowess. It was with his kind heart and subtle cleverness, with the endearing naivete that he quickly grew out of. They had grown close, closer than they had any right to or what may have been proper had they been integrated into normal society. Though they both knew she was the better fighter, she had caught him more than once guarding her. While she slept, while she bathed, keeping an eye on her whenever they faced Danes along the road.
He is no warrior but he is kind and that was all she ever wanted from him.
He is no warrior and yet she had allowed him to fight alone in the battle of Beamfleot.
He is no warrior and she had not been there when he fell.
She turns her head in time to watch him fall, beaten down by the blunt edge of a shield. Though she tries to go to him, she is trapped behind a wall of men, swords and shields and mud and blood making it impossible to reach him in time. She watches helpless as someone else kills the man who takes him down, the body landing on top of him, and can do nothing but hope beyond hope that he is more than just a body laying prone in the mud. When Alfred’s men finally break the line, ending their almost sure slaughter and begin taking down the Danes, she sprints passed them all to reach him. The distance seems longer now that she’s running it, feet squelching with every step as the mud tries to suck her back down, and she swings her axe into the gut of the man who tries to slow her down.
She’s breathing heavily, the cold air burning her throat and making her taste blood, but she throws herself down beside him all the same. The Dane corpse on top of him is a deadweight she’s not sure she can move but her determination wins out and she drags him away, his feet catching on Osferth’s side and turning him onto his back. She discards the body immediately, dropping to her knees and placing two fingers just below his jaw, muttering pleas as she searches for his heartbeat. It’s a feeling she has grown more than used to, the familiar thump of it always serving to calm her down. She has heard it a hundred times before, after they have lain together, when he hugs her close to his chest.
She does not know what she will do if she doesn’t hear it again now.
But it’s there, thrumming under the pads of her fingers. Weaker than she is used to but she is so relieved that it is there at all that she lets out a sob, fingers dropping to curl around the collar of his tunic.
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Read the rest here
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bloodynectarine · 2 years
Text
And yet, here I am, yearning
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Lucifer experiences what he (belatedly) recognizes as heartbreak in the middle of one of Diavolo's parties.
tags. gender-neutral mc, angst, missed opportunities, (kinda but not really) one-sided lucifer x mc, implied mammon x mc.
notes. today i bring you pain. tomorrow? who knows. i tried to write lucifer's sin getting in the way of his feelings for you. also, for this one to work, mc refused to attend any parties for quite a while upon arriving to the devildom.
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Lucifer has been playing host along Diavolo all night long, and he can already feel his face hurt. Being on his best behavior was exhausting; as if demons were anything but cunning.
Half of the guests are here in a poor attempt to get on Diavolo's good side, and the other half just want to get a peek of the new inhabitant of the House of Lamentation. “Have you heard? That human is here”, an oblivious demon whispers to him, only to disappear just as fast, clearly in a hurry upon realizing who exactly was he talking to.
Of course Lucifer has heard.
His eyes scan the sea of people, searching between green, purple, and red garments, until spotting you in your bold white and gold suit. Even if you weren't the star of the show already, heads would've been turning your way with just your attire, such a daring choice. How fitting.
And just as last week when you tried the suit on for the first time and excitedly broke into his office for a little fashion show, you look… angelic.
The white makes you look exquisite under the light of the chandeliers, and each one of the multiple accessories you are drowned in is tastefully done.
They work as a warning, of course; not just anyone in the Devildom can wear jewelry of such a deep gold as the one in the choker that covers your throat, in the pins that hold your hair in place and in the multiple rings around your fingers. They speak of power.
But they also speak of love.
It's subtle, in the way it would've been impossible for you to stylize your hair alone, or to get into the intricate suit on your own without ending up looking like a mess. Everything about the ensemble you're wearing speaks of someone caring for you enough to handpick everything, to make sure you look perfect.
And if Lucifer remembers correctly (and he knows he does), Mammon was the one who stood by you every step of the way. He didn't even let Asmo step in for the makeup, or listened to Satan's advice for color and styling. How unusual of him, he thought at the time, to want to shoulder all the responsibility instead of leaving all the work to somebody else.
Looking at you now, he gets it. Everything about you screams Mammon, so it's no surprise to see him stuck by your side. He looks so pleased: the pins in his hair and yours match perfectly.
The second born seems to have a knack for holding your attention. Right now he's practically shielding you with his body while the both of you talk, taking over your personal space, getting closer than you would have allowed him to just a few weeks ago.
Uneasiness settles in his gut. When did you start to lean in instead of flinching away?
While he can tell you've warmed up to every single one of his brothers, your relationship with Mammon went from strangers to attached to the hip in what seems like the blink of an eye.
The two of you are a lot to handle when you are together.
You've encouraged Mammon's impulsive nature with your ride-or-die disposition, always ready to take part in his (often stupid, often insane) plans, orbiting around him.
In return, you can do no wrong in Mammon's eyes. He is the fire to your fuel, just as ready to indulge you, craving ―and lately demanding― every bit of your attention.
It's true that upon your arrival, Lucifer decided to trust you in Mammon's care, convinced that the two of you would at least work around each other…
He greets each guest that moves past him with a barely-there smile, and a nod of his head, not doing much more than acknowledging their presence, preoccupied with keeping an eye on you.
And that's why he sees it, almost in slow-motion, how your hand moves to tuck a strand of hair behind Mammon's ear. It wasn't even out of place to begin with.
Leaving you in his care, he expected Mammon to be willing to help, as always. He was ready for him to slowly put his bravado aside, to bond with you, to call you a friend, maybe. But he never expected… this.
This feeling, that's tearing his chest apart. This urge, to reach for your hands and hold them prisoners in his. The desire, to come impossibly close and ask you, with all the pride of a petulant child, why him?
And not me?
The revelation is such that he feels himself tremble from head to toe.
How long has it been? When did he start to wish to take you away and keep you for himself? Has this feeling always been there, doomed, since the very first time he saw you? Or has it slowly crept into him, catching him at the worst of times, when it's already too late?
He remembers, he does, how in the beginning you always sought him out, to talk, for help, just to be near him. Your eyes full of stars, of wonder, every single time you looked at him. When did you start to move out of his reach?
Was he… the one to push you away? With his elusive nature, always distrusting, with the one hundred and one walls that surround him at all times. Has he ever… let you in?
Last week. What exactly did he said to you when you showed him the suit? You were clearly looking for praise.
He asked you to step outside, didn't he. Stop interrupting me in my working hours, MC.
What was your expression like, back then? Did he make you sad, upset? He didn't even remem--
“Lucifer, old friend, how are you enjoying the party? Does the demonus suit your tastes?”
Lucifer makes sure to set his cup down on the table before answering, adjusting his expression with practiced calm. If his shaking hands are too noticeable, Diavolo doesn't mention them.
And even if in his shock he hasn't taken a single sip, he answers, with a probably crooked smile. “Bitter. It's a little bitter.”
By the time he looks up and across the ballroom, you and Mammon are already long gone.
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ao3 ― writing tag
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kathaynesart · 1 year
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What advice would you give to someone who really wants to get into writing/drawing comics, but doesn't know how or where to start? What would you recommend? Even if/ especially if they already have a decent history in writing and drawing
SHORT ANSWER: Don’t do what I’m doing with Replica haha! I’m breaking all my own rules with this comic but maybe we can use it as a good example of what not to do in my rant below…
LONG ANSWER: (below the cut)
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Hoo boy… there are so many avenues this question could take. I assume you don’t necessarily mean entering the comic industry as a professional (there are far more experienced people you can ask about that). But simply drawing your own comics? I'll try my best to break down some of the basics I've picked up over the years. Note these are just my opinion and there is always room for other methods...
1. ASK YOURSELF WHAT KIND OF COMIC AM I DOING?
The first thing to consider is what is your intention with this comic? Do you want to tell a story centered around a preexisting fandom or tell a completely new story you came up with? What genre do you want to focus on? I'd recommend finding something that really sparks your interest, because you're going to be working on it for far longer than a regular art piece. Plus if you like it, someone else is bound to like it as well!
2. ASK YOURSELF DOES IT NEED TO BE A COMIC?
This may sound silly... but often times I find people fail to take into consideration whether or not the story they are telling works best with the medium they are considering. Had I done Replica as a fan fiction, I would be much farther along with it... but with comics there comes a wide range of subtle visual cues, parallels, and symbolism I can use that I wouldn't be able to show through writing. The written word also has many strengths that comics lack... it just comes down to what you want to be able to show in your story.
3. KEEP IT SHORT AND SIMPLE
If this is your first time doing a comic, I recommend not overextending yourself with some grand epic that is going to take you forever (like Replica haha.)
Example: Years ago a close friend and I did a webcomic called Perpetual Flux that we were unable to finish. It went for about 2-3 years, was over 110 pages long, and yet we had only managed to get about 3 chapters into what would have probably been a +30 chapter story. We came up with this huge epic we wanted to tell and while it was a story we still wanted to finish, it just became impossible to continue as our lives and availability changed.
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So start small! And take that experience you gain into bigger, future projects. Obviously I have not learned my lesson with Replica, but at least with this project it's something I can do on my own time and is supported by a wonderful community who keep me inspired. Speaking of which...
4. FINDING AN AUDIENCE
If it’s a story based off something with an existing fandom then half the work is already done! You just need to start interacting more with people in that fandom, and I mean really interacting. Talk to other artists, join Zines, leave comments, and share other people’s work. It can foster a community and help you be a part of the fandom so that people will be interested in what you have to share.
If it’s a new story you’re going to have to create your own community. Nowadays it’s easier than ever to get your work out there, but the competition for eyes is much steeper. What I find that works is rather than starting the comic cold turkey, draw out some highlights from your future story. Moments that have yet to unfold that might wet a random viewer's appetite for more. Kind of like… a trailer for what’s to come. Keep dropping those little crumbs of interest as you prep your comic to garner some interest and that way when you do start you may already have some followers who might share your work around!
5. CONSISTENCY IS KEY
Get into the habit of drawing and writing regularly. I know it can be a hassle and the last thing you want to do is make it a chore, but like exercising I find that the more I do it, the easier it is and the better I feel about it. Nowadays I feel weird if I'm not at least writing some script or drawing a few sketches towards my comic/projects every day.
Also, if you can make sure to update fairly regularly (something I also fail at with Replica haha, but at least I try to post little things here and there when time allows). It's important to let your followers know that you are still there and you care! It also helps keep you at the front of their minds. My fellow Apocalypse AU creators Cass and Tapakah0 are GREAT at this as they post a ton! It helps garner a strong community and a lot of continuous excitement! I wish I had that same energy and time but you'll have to make do with my old-lady pace of things, bless you all haha.
6. GRAPHIC DESIGN
Obviously as a writer and artist you're used to doing both... but with comics there's another aspect that can come into play. Graphic design! Whether it's your title, your font choices, the word bubbles, or the way you break down the panels, these area all things you should take into consideration. For example, every webcomic has panels, but they can vary tremendously in style. Because of Tumblr and the nature of the scroll method I chose to forgo the typical "comic book style" for more of a... loose storyboard feel where I care more about the angle of the shot within each panel rather than how these separated images link up to one another. Where as with Perpetual Flux, it was laid out on actual comic pages so we had to take serious consideration into how they fit together within each page. IngunnSara is also a great example of this more traditional method of paneling and it's gorgeous and difficult and they have my utmost respect for pulling it off with Hamato Wanderers! So I recommend looking to some of your own favorite comics and see what jives with you.
7. FIND A STYLE THAT WORKS FOR YOU
Also failed this with Replica haha, but to be fair I went right into it with the intent on learning the style as I went. But I recommend having some grasp on the style you want to use and whether or not it's a viable to be drawing over and over again for your comic (for example, if you make it too detailed it will take you far longer to draw!)
8. FORGET ABOUT PERFECTION
Perfection is a lie. There is no place for it in art, especially if you're just doing this for your own pleasure. Don't strive for it. Don't worry about it. Don't compare yourself. Just keep doing what you're doing and keep learning from it. You'll get much farther!
Ok... hopefully that helps a bit. I'm sure there's plenty more to talk about but I feel like I've talked enough for now. Thanks for listening to my TED Talk and lemmed know if you manage to get your comic off the ground :)
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moodymisty · 1 year
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Wow! Congrats on 1k followers!! Your writing is always a delight. 🥰
For your event, may I request Tech x F!reader with the prompt "You really want me?"
Thank you! I hope you have a great day. ❤️
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❀ Milestone prompts list ❀
Author's Note: Awww thank you! I'm glad you enjoy my writing! and techtechtechtechtechtech
Relationships: Tech/Gn!Reader
Warnings: None, just fluff and confessions of love
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"So, I have to ask..."
Echo's voice perks up your ears, as sits beside you. His glass is in his hands but he hasn't taken a sip yet, at least that you've noticed.
79's is relatively barren tonight, at least by the normal standards; Though it's still quite loud and packed with enough clones that traversal through the bar is for sure going to end up with you bumping into a few shoulders.
"Did you show Tech some new book or something?" He's not here tonight, having neglected coming out for drinks because of some important worked he wanted to finish, and had insisted you all go on without him. it's not incredibly unusual; This sort of scene isn't his type.
You think on Echo's question for a moment, pursing your lips as you look off in no particular direction trying to recall. Once you do, it's such a brief moment that you don't really think that it would be anything of note.
"Um, I mean I mentioned something not too long ago?" Echo leans back against the seat, an arm over the back behind your head.
"Ok, because he's not shut up about whatever it was for at least a week now. He's been researching it nonstop." That sentence makes you surprised, but also it's impossible to contain a smile at the thought of him doing something like that when you aren't around. It's, endearing. Not too often do you find someone who enjoys you enough that they try to enjoy the things you do. You love watching Tech tinker, to sometimes catch his tongue just barely poking out between his lips, but it makes your heart flutter a bit to know this new tidbit of info.
"Really? I didn't know he cared that much." Crosshair makes an amused noise.
"Cares? He's obsessed." He gets an odd look from you back, and Hunter seeks to clarify what Crosshair won't.
"The two of you really get along well," He says, and you raise your eyebrows. He can't exactly find the best way to put this so for the sake of his brother and for your own sanity, he'll be blunt.
"Look, we don't wanna shove into your business or anything," Hunter rubs the back of his neck. "But Tech really likes you." It's feels more than a little bit intense being underneath the stare of four eyes, especially considering who they are.
"But he's not gonna say it unless you do first."
Were you really so obvious in your attraction that they were all able to notice? You had hoped you were being at least somewhat subtle.
No point in denying it, you guess. They already have it all figured out.
"So, you want me to just go for it then?" You smile and laugh, expecting it to be taken as a joke. But instead, Hunter nods and agrees with you.
"Go sweep him off his feet."
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You're not drunk in the slightest; seeing the outline of the Marauder ahead of you as you walk forward towards it with purpose. It's just that your conversation with the rest of the 99's has pushed you over the edge.
You ended up leaving not long after you'd finished talking, deciding to take the opportunity of Tech being alone. It's not too often you have the chance to do so.
You'll just say how you feel, and damn the consequences. You can't stay in the limbo anymore.
But Tech is just, so hard to read.
You've gotten better at it over time, but sometimes you find yourself wondering. His brothers know him best, and hopefully their encouragement doesn't end with you making an ass of yourself.
You have the codes to unlock the Marauder, bringing down the gangplank so you can head inside. Once you do, it's only takes a quick look to the right to locate Tech, who's situated in the cockpit using Gonky as an extension to his current work table; Which is the control panel. He heard your entrance and looks over, perking up in casual surprise.
"Oh, I thought you all would be out for most of the evening." He says it with curiosity, not disappointment. You notice he's reading one of the books you'd mentioned awhile ago when you step closer, datapad sat aside whatever he's been tinkering with. He must be using it as background noise.
"Yeah, it got a little too rowdy for my liking." He's soldering two wires together, humming and adjusting his goggles with a wiggle of his nose. When he speaks he's still working, not looking as you watch over him from his side.
"I apologize for my brothers if they said or did anything particularly uncouth; Them and large amounts of alcohol are not often the best combination." Speaking from experience? You joke to only yourself. Smiling, you wave off his concerns.
"Nah, they were fine," Your sentence hangs for a bit, leaning to one side as your eyes flick over his hands and arms. "I, wanted to talk to you, actually." That admission gets Tech's interest, naturally.
Gonky takes up a good portion of the free space between the seats, so he ushers the droid away and gives you the room to sit down.
"To me?" He seems both surprised and curious, already trying to figure out what you'd possibly need to talk to him about. It could be any number of things, it's not as if the two of you have ever run out of things to talk about.
"Yeah, I," You lick your lips, finding the words and the confidence to just say them.
Gods he looks so cute right now... You think while seeing his dark brown eyes watch you from behind his goggles.
"Do you want to go out sometime? Just you and me?" He quickly counts his tools as he puts them away back in his storage box, glancing up at you.
"Do you need help with something? I see no need why to specify just you and me if you would just like to go and-"
You get out of your seat and kneel on the edge of Tech's, leaning inward and stealing a kiss from him. He certainly looks surprised the moment you pull away, but it seems to get the point across well enough.
"Oh," He says, adjusting his goggles from where you'd bumped them out of alignment. "You meant in that way." His eyes are wide, flicking around focus on a different part of your face as he thinks.
"I, failed to think this was a possible scenario." In any other situation you might've considered making a joke, but the tone would be ruined if you did so.
"Being a clone isn't a desirable trait apart from a few select scenarios, my brothers are quite overbearing, and the state of the war I-" He cuts himself off, brain thinking a mile a minute. "You really want me?"
You smile and nod, lips just barely dusting over his. You can still feel his breath on your face, before he decides to kiss you this time. His feels more assertive, as if he's quickly gaining the confidence in what he's figured out so far. His body rises from his aggressive slouch and his hands move up your thighs, from where they had laid politely on your knees.
"Do you want me to say?" You say, feeling his hands on your hips.
His brothers won't be back for most of the night anyways. He has plenty of time to figure things out and get all the answers he needs.
"Yes."
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