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#this was always a possibility but we got there REALLY fast
ciaonicole85 · 2 days
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Part 1: What then?
Some seemingly innocent, but truly mind-altering information is shared in a staff meeting.
Short fan fic. Low-key Sydcarmy/The Bear fluff. Post-season 2. Canon-compliant.
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Location: The Bear Time: 10:05 a.m.
The restaurant had closed lunch service on a Tuesday for a "Development Day". The Bear had been open for 5 months and had a 2 month wait list! After Family and Friends when they had all banded together the Bear crew had gotten tighter than ever. Carmen had been a outsider in his own restaurant for a couple weeks, but soon the dust settled. Even Sydney came around after 3 weeks of his patient groveling. The duo was good and soon The Bear had become one of Chicago Tribune's "Best New Restaurants." However, with success The Bear was changing fast. They had hired more full-time front and kitchen staff, which was great. The downside was that "respectful communication" and "customer complaint management" was waning a little. Things were not terrible, but Richie for whom Ever set the bar in hospitality, The Bear should always be improving, not sliding backwards. Natalie, Carmen and Sydney agreed. They also wanted to discuss new menu changes and a to-go system they would be testing soon.
"Okay, people! Let's get started" Natalie said beckoning everyone to take a seat at the front of house.
Richie stood next her "casually dressed" in a button down blue dress shirt and dark grey slacks.
He began, "As you know The Bear is on track to paying off the loan and we're the freakin' toast of the town right now, but this is not the time to take a nap. We gotta keep our eyes on the prize. So first, up facial regulation as known as RBF awareness."
Natalie tapped his shoulder and whispered, "Richie, I love your enthusiasm, but I thought we might start with an ice breaker?"
He shrugged and continued, "But Nat, has a ice breaker. Take it away".
Natalie resumed.
"So, first we want to thank each of you for being part of this dream and making it fun, rewarding, and successful. As you know The Bear is a family business and since there's new faces here we'd like to get to know you better and vice versa. We'll start with a quick round of "Best and Worst". Just pick a question out of the cup and answer it. Please keep your answers to 2 minutes."
The first question went to Randall, a young man in his early 20's with dark curly hair and thick glasses that frequently fogged in the humid kitchen. He was the new assistant pastry chef.
"What was the best place I ever lived? Hm…Guam. My dad, Army, was stationed on the base and I lived there from age 9-11. I had like 12 friends just on my block and we were always playing soccer, swimming, or riding our bikes. It was awesome."
"Thanks Randall!" Natalie chirped.
The next went to Tina.
"Ok…what is worst advice I've ever been given? Keep your head down and do what you know. That's the advice I used to give myself. Thankfully I didn't listen because now I'm a sous chef!"
Sydney who was sitting near the front between Gary and Carmy, beamed at Tina who returned the smile with a little moisture in her eyes.
The next question went to Marcus.
"Best moment in the last year? It was training at Noma, in Copenhagen. It was my first international trip. I got to stay in a houseboat, explore the city, meet cool people, and figure out that I wanted to do this maybe forever."
The last several months had been really hard due to Marcus's mom's passing. He had returned to work after a week of mourning citing that he knew she wouldn't want him to sit at home now that she was no longer sick. Despite that he was getting better every day and had come up with several new popular dessert specials. Tina was seated next to him and patted his arm.
The next few questions went to new dishwasher, Chris, Fak, and then Gary.
Sydney drew the next question and winced upon reading it. It wouldn't be possible to lie because Marcus already knew the truth.
"What was my best meal ever? Well…it was this pork confit with onions and rhubarb. Then after I had this dish called Milk and Honey."
She kept her eyes plastered onto the tiny strip of paper while she spoke. In her peripheral field she could see Carm turning slightly towards her, his cornflower blue eyes boring two holes into the side of her head.
"Sounds grand. Ok, Carmy pick a question" Richie ordered wanting to get down to business by 10:30am.
Carmy didn't seem to hear him. He was on another planet.
"Yo cuz, pick a question!"
He startled and drew a question.
"Uh ok. Best part of my day? Hmmm. Closing up."
It was now Sydney's soul's turn to exit her body. Every night, with few exceptions, she and Carmy ended the night in his office to debrief on the day, perform last checks, and close together.
After a moment she felt his eyes still glancing at her. Without turning she whispered, "Later." The last thing she needed was to look at him, and forget how much time was passing, giving Richie yet another reason to tease them. Not long ago he gave them matching copies of a workplace relationship etiquette tip sheet stapled to an OSHA industrial hygiene handout before leaving them to close.
She sighed, trying to compose herself. It was no big deal. So what that Carm knew he was responsible for the best thing she ever ate? Also, they're partner-friends so it's totally normal that his favorite time of day when is they are together…alone. Right?
UH OH.
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cornfieldsrambles · 7 months
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YOU HAVE PERMISSION TO INFODUMP PLEASE TELL ME ABOUT WIGGLY'S SIBLINGS???? THAT HE APPARENTLY HAS????
omg ok SO
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Meet the Lords in Black. Charming, aren't they?
Yes, Wiggly does indeed have four brothers who all do different things, so I'll cover them one by one, in order of introduction (since we've already met each of them in Nightmare Time at least once). BTW Nightmare Time has a fuckton of lore in it that I won't go into here, so even though I am about to spoil significant parts of it for you, I do recommend watching it, it's really good and if there's enough interest they might make a third one!
(Also you might notice they're all in doll form in this picture. This is how we knew them up until NPMD introduced us to what I call their Tumblr sexyman forms. Which are rad as hell by the way.)
So you already know Wiggly. That little green fucker, Wiggog Y'Wrath, the Capitalist Cthulu who does uwu-speak and starts a cult by invading people's minds. This will become a bit of a reoccurring theme with these guys. He's also the only one to successfully start an apocalypse, and the only one to have attempted to birth himself into our reality. (Or is he? We'll get to that...) He does seem to have some kind of dominion over the other LiB, as whenever all five of them show up there's always emphasis placed on him, like in NPMD where he does most of the talking while his siblings occasionally butt in.
Now for Bliklotep. Blinky seems to have slightly lower-scale ambitions than Wiggly, but don't let that fool you. Eyeball Boi is still incredibly dangerous. He runs an amusement park, WatcherWorld, deep within the Hatchetfield Witchwood. But it's not for the amusement of the patrons. Oh no. It's for Blinky's own amusement. Once you step inside, every insecurity, every shred of potential conflict will be ripped to the forefront, turning people against each other to the point of trying to kill each other until he's fully infected their minds. It's implied that, if not all, but a significant chunk of the workers at WatcherWorld were once patrons before having their minds taken over by Blinky. He's also implied to be the thing in Trail To Oregon that Jack Bauer sees during his venom-induced hallucination, as Blinky is referred to as "The Watcher With 1,000 Eyes", which is exactly what JB says he sees? Making Blinky the only LiB to induce a Starkid crossover. My headcanon is that the Dikrats founded Hatchetfield. But regardless.
Next up on the roster is Tinky. T'noy Karaxis, the Time Bastard. You may be wondering about that one line in NPMD where he recognised Pete as a Spankoffski, and said he "could have the whole set in his toybox". Has Tinky gone after Pete's relatives?
Well. Um. You know Ted, right? Yeah, his name is Spankoffski. He's Pete's big brother. We actually got the surname reveal before the brother reveal, lol. And that's not the only reveal we got about Ted. Our boy Teddy Bear has this whole entire tragic backstory and it turns out he gets fucked over in literally every timeline! Isn't that fun?
So, to summarise an entire episode: Tinky makes travel fuckery happen, Ted wants to go back in time to fix his life, accidentally goes back to before the time machine was created and gets stuck in the past, literally. Tinky is watching and laughing at the whole thing, then shows up to blow Ted's brain to smithereens with his weird little magic box, the Bastard's Box, where he stores all the people he toys with. Anyway Ted eventually catches up with the present by aging, except now no one knows who he is, he's... actually I won't spoil that. But once he dies he ends up eternally trapped and tortured in the Bastard's Box. Yaaay.
Fast forward to Nightmare Time 2 and we get introduced to Nibbly, in possibly the most unexpected way imaginable. He's revealed to have been behind a whole episode literally right at the end of said episode, and even though it was kind of foreshadowed, it hits you like a freight train in the best way. Remember when I said Wiggly was the only one who tried to birth himself into reality? That was kind of a lie. Nibblenephim can sort of do that anyway. Every year, he can possess a bunch of carcasses and create a living form to walk the earth for one night. He also has a cult of followers who provide him with the carcasses, as well as a sacrifice to feed on. There's a little more to it, specifically with how the sacrifice is chosen, but again, I'm trying to spoil as little as possible. Go watch Nightmare Time. Nibbly also seems to have a "pig" motif, and his theme song, The Nibbly Ditty, is a banger, easily my favourite of the three LiB theme songs we've heard so far.
And finally, we are introduced to Pokotho, in the very last episode of NMT2.
Except no. We were formally introduced to Pokey there, yes, but we've seen his apocalypse already. Long before NPMD, before Nightmare Time, even before Black Friday.
Yeah, remember me saying that Wiggly was the only one to successfully start an apocalypse? That was also a lie! Pokey already did that, and he did it without ever showing his masked face. Remember The Guy Who Didn't Like Musicals? The blue spores that came down in a meteor and turned everyone into singing zombies? That was Pokey's doing! That's his blue spores! That's his apocalypse!
This also provides an explanation for why blowing up the meteor didn't work. Emma and Hidgens were right about the hivemind thing, but wrong about the location of the central brain. It wasn't the meteor - the meteor was just the vessel which carried the spores to Earth. The central brain was sitting safely up in the Black and White, laughing as Paul blew himself to smithereens. The central brain was Pokey, the Singular Voice, the most uncompromising of his brothers. The one who hates every voice that is not his own, hence the hivemind and making all of his zombies speak in HIS voice.
Anyway in NMT2 he's happily collecting musical zombies by taking on a human form and infiltrating a fighting ring of superpowered children until he has enough to kickstart another apocalypse. (Don't question it, we're almost done). He also calls himself Otho, not Pokey, making him the only LiB to have two different abbreviations of his name. Hannah is also there (remember her? Lex's little sister?) and she is like incredibly important to this whole thing, she has a super powerful mind, but that's a whole other thing.
But I did mention Hannah for a reason. Because you said "Wiggly's SIBLINGS". And while the Lords in Black are always referred to as brothers, they do have one more sibling. A sister. A Queen in White. And her name is Webby.
Yep, Hannah's imaginary friend isn't imaginary, who could have guessed? She's benevolent, always trying her best to combat her brothers' antics, but given that there's one of her and five of them, this is a bit of an uphill battle. Webby doesn't have a full name that we know of, nor does she have a doll. We don't know much about her. And she may not be all-powerful - but then again, neither are her brothers.
Infodump concluded. Hope this helps, it was very fun to write.
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riality-check · 8 months
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Steve, realistically, shouldn’t even be at this show. He doesn’t care about the band, he didn’t want to make the drive, and he had to bring Anna along because he couldn’t find a babysitter.
But he was going to suck it up to go with Dustin, who immediately bought tickets to see his favorite band when they went on sale. Who called Steve this morning to inform him, somehow both solemnly and frantically, that he had the worst food poisoning known to man, and, that until he stopped puking and shitting at the same time, he could not leave the bathroom.
Steve very much did not need to know that.
With Dustin went the rest of the Babysitters’ Club, all of them having eaten the same shady pizza and suffering the consequences. The only exception was Mike, lactose intolerant but cursed to take care of his idiot friends.
He texted Steve to ask if he had extra bleach. Steve dropped it outside the house because no way in hell was he entering that building.
Dustin assured him, amidst too much detail and shockingly disgusting background noise, that both tickets shouldn’t go to waste, and with no one able to babysit Anna, Steve should take advantage of both.
So, here he is. Standing in the first level - Dustin couldn’t get floor tickets, thank God - of a show for a metal band he has no intention of ever listening to and holding his four-year-old daughter, who has bright pink ear defenders looped around her neck in preparation for when it gets really, really loud.
“When are they starting?” she asks for the fourth time in as many minutes, with a sigh too big for her little body.
“In a few minutes,” Steve says, keeping an eye on the stage, where he watches the crew set up. Mad respect for them hustling so hard. He could never.
The seats are slowly filling up, and Steve feels a little sad for the first opener, a little sad that they don’t have a full house for their set.
A group of four guys takes the seats right next to Steve, with a pale, long-haired, big-eyed guy right next to him. He’s got tattoos on his arms and rings on all his fingers and a silver bar through his upper ear.
And he’s arguing emphatically with his friend next to him.
“I’m telling you, American Psycho is more recognizable!” he says, hands flying. Steve discreetly makes sure he and Anna aren’t within striking distance. “Not to mention cheaper!”
“A prop chainsaw,” his friend - a short white guy with shorter but equally wild hair - says, “can’t possibly be that hard to find by tomorrow.”
“We already have the axe!”
“I’m with Eddie,” the big white guy at the end of their group says. “I’m a sucker for American Psycho.”
“Okay, but I’m the guy who has to use the props,” the fourth friend, a Black guy with short braids who looks annoyed at this conversation, like they’ve had it before. “And I think I’d have more fun with the chainsaw.”
Eddie - the guy with long hair and heavy jewelry and hands with a mind of their own - rolls his eyes. It’s a full body movement, one that has him spinning to face Steve. When he does, his face cycles through a myriad of emotions too fast for Steve to really track.
“Hi, pretty boy,” he says. His eyes then dart down to Anna, who stares at him with her head cocked to the side. “Pretty dad. Dad. Pretty. Hi.”
“Eddie,” the short guy cautions.
“Yeah, sorry, anyway, can you be a tiebreaker for us?”
“Sure,” Steve says. Anna squirms, so he lets her out of his lap to stand, holding her hand all the while. “What do you need?”
“American Psycho or Texas Chainsaw Massacre?” the big guy asks.
“You gotta give him context.”
“No, I don’t, Jeff.”
The guy who said he’d be using the props - whatever that means - rolls his eyes and stops fighting.
“What’s American Psycho?” Anna asks, choosing the best time to pay attention to the conversation, like always.
“A movie you’re too young to see,” Steve says. “And the one I’m picking out of those two.”
“Oh, thank you,” Eddie says, using a tone that better fits Steve saving his drowning dog or something. He then turns to the rest of his friends and says, “I fucking told you!”
Anna gasps. “You’re not s’posed to say that!”
Jeff smothers a laugh behind his hands, while the other three guys stare at Anna, half confused, half admiring.
Eddie clears his throat, looking significantly abashed. "Sorry, Miss-"
"Anna," she says.
"Anna," Eddie finishes. Then he turns to Steve. "And you are?"
"Steve. No Mister for me though. I might be a dad, but I'm not that old."
"You are old, Daddy," Anna says.
Steve frowns down at her, where she stands at his feet. She's smiling, mischievous like she always is when she says something along these lines. "I'm not that old."
"Yeah you are! You're like, you're like, like, fifteen."
Jeff gives up on hiding his laughter.
"I'm older than fifteen," Steve says gently, trying not to laugh.
Anna’s jaw drops. “You are?”
“Thank God for that,” Eddie mutters, then shuts his jaw with an audible click.
Steve tried to come up with an answer for that, but someone comes on a mic and starts playing the drums, so he moves the defenders over Anna’s ears and pays attention to the show instead.
It's... fun, he guesses. Fun if he were into it, maybe. The first opener has a lot of energy, even if the music isn't melodic enough for Steve's taste. He finds himself tapping along to the steady beat, moving slightly in his seat to the music.
It's nice background noise. He'd put this on while he grades papers. It's steady enough to fill his head but doesn't have a whole lot of lyrics he could get distracted by and sing along to.
Eddie and his friends, meanwhile, are having the time of their lives. The short guy - Gareth, Steve thinks his name is - mimes the drum part of each song with startling accuracy. Archie jumps up and down, Jeff absolutely screams along, and Eddie-
Anna stares up at Eddie, eyes wide and jaw slacked as she watches him bang his head to the music.
Steve almost snaps a picture of it, this little moment, before the second song ends and Eddie snaps out of his zone.
He shakes the hair out of his face, then looks down at Anna, who's still staring at him. "What?"
She cocks her head to the side in a mirror of his. "What was that?"
"What was what?"
"The," she pauses, then starts shaking her head really hard, side to side. Steve puts a hand on her shoulder before she slams into the chairs in the row in front of them.
Eddie laughs. "The headbanging?"
"Yeah," Anna says, nodding.
"It's a way I move to the music," Eddie explains.
"Like dancing?"
"Sort of," Eddie says. "It's easier. I look stupid when I dance."
"You're not s'posed to say that," Anna tells him solemnly. "Right, Daddy?"
Steve meets Eddie's eyes. Even with the lights down, they're big and pretty and reflective, and Steve is going to kick himself so hard if he chickens out before he can get his number.
"Right," he says, still looking at Eddie. "We're not supposed to call ourselves stupid."
"Sorry," Eddie whispers.
"Don't be."
Anna tugs on Steve's hand, then Eddie's. "Teach me."
"Anna," Steve cautions.
"Can you please teach me?" she corrects.
Eddie glances down at Anna, then back up at Steve. "If it's-"
"Go ahead," Steve says because Eddie has more than passed the vibe check at this point.
Eddie crouches down as a new song starts up, and while Steve can't hear what he's telling her, he sees her smile, bright as day.
By the last song of the first opener, Anna is headbanging along with Eddie, off-beat in the say little kids always are but more than making up for it with effort.
Steve gives into the impulse to take a picture.
When the first opener finishes, Steve picks Anna back up and takes her ear defenders off.
"Woah," she says. "Can I keep them-"
"Nope," Steve says. "They stay on when the music is on. You heard it fine, didn't you?"
"Yeah, but you-"
"I have my earplugs in," Steve says, pointing at them.
"So do I," Eddie says, and when he moves his hair back, sure enough, there are black earplugs nestled in his ears.
"You don't seem like the kind of guy to wear earplugs," Steve says.
"You don't seem like the kind of guy to come of a metal show," Eddie counters.
Anna climbs out of Steve's arms and onto his back, where she loops her arms around his shoulders and just hangs, like she does sometimes when she gets bored.
Weirdo kid, Steve thinks affectionately.
"That's because I'm not," Steve says. "I was supposed to come with a friend, but he got sick."
"Yikes," Eddie says. "You coming tomorrow, too?"
"I am," Steve says. "Are you?"
Eddie raises his eyebrows, like he didn't expect Steve to ask that. "Yeah, we'll be here. Not in these seats, though."
The lights go back down before Steve can ask what he means by that. He reaches behind him, scoops Anna back down on the ground, and puts her ear defenders on by the time the second opener strikes a scary-sounding opening chord.
Anna doesn't look scared at all. From the moment the music starts, she looks up at Eddie, and when he starts headbanging, she does, too.
Yup. Steve has effectively created a monster.
He contemplates, if Dustin is fine by tomorrow, skipping out on the show and giving his ticket to Anna, but that means not seeing Eddie again.
He really wants to see Eddie again, even if he won’t have the same seats.
Whatever that means.
Steve decides not to focus on that. He decides instead to focus on the moment. He listens to the music. He lets Anna take his hand and dance with it. He bops his head along with hers, but not too hard because he can’t risk aggravating his whiplash.
He enjoys the show, even if it’s not his cup of tea. It’s easy to enjoy the show, with Eddie next to him. It’s easy to enjoy his wild hair and pretty jewelry and big eyes and contagious enthusiasm.
It’s easy to see the way Eddie looks at him.
It’s also very easy, after the venue clears and Anna falls asleep in the car on the way home, to forget to ask for his number.
Shit.
(Part 2 is alive!!)
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strongheartneteyam · 6 months
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We are just animals.
Pairing: Neteyam Sully x female!human!reader
CW: "light" non con, dubious consent, voyeurism, neteyam jerking off to reader touching herself, descriptions of masturbation, kinda mean/dark neteyam, belly bulge, rough sex, semi public sex, p in v, creampie, dirty talk, size kink, size difference, exophilia, dominant neteyam, sub reader, primal play [hunter/prey] (if you squint), doggy position
Synopsis: Neteyam is on his rut period and he's struggling to deal with the fact that masturbation doesn't really seem to help anymore when it comes to easing his strong urges. But when he finds a human girl alone in the middle of the forest, that seems to be the solution he was desperately longing for.
Slightly proofread. I'm running on 4 hours of sleep, a cup of strong coffee with no sugar and only one slice of whole grain bread rn (and I'm in a hurry to go out lol) so be gentle with me 🥲☕ love you guys <3
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Neteyam had been extremely frustrated and moody lately. He had been aloof and impatient with people, even with his family, these past days, which is so not like him. But the Omatikaya people tried to understand and cut him some slack since they knew he was going through his rut and he didn't exactly have a partner to help him ease that itch right then.
Neteyam tossed back and fourth on his mat at eclipse and he couldn't get restful nights of sleep as he would wake up in the middle of the dark hours with such a strong urge to mate that he felt like it would drive him insane. It was so incredibly troubling. He found no other way to deal with it than being the quietest he could be while stroking his erect cock, desperately trying to get some release. But Eywa... it was never enough. No. What he needed was to cum inside a good inviting cunt.
One day Neteyam was walking through the forest, looking for good branches so he could gather an enough amount of them to light up the bonfire for that day's communal meal time at eclipse.
He was in a place in the forest that was far enough of the Omatikaya huts for it to be somehow private, as private as a forest could be. There was always a risk of people being around, of course.
He almost couldn't believe his eyes when he caught you pleasuring yourself as you laid on the grass with your eyes closed, your small delicate human fingers rubbing your wet clit, his nostrils getting filled with the delicious scent of your juices (that he just knew tasted delicious too). Neteyam knew he had found the girl that would help him get some release from his madness inducing urges that were bothering him all the time in this rut.
You were just the perfect prey. So small, fragile and soft. His cock got hard as a rock just thinking about sinking himself deep inside your ekxìn (tight) pussy.
So, Neteyam hid behind a tree and uncovered his cock, pushing his loincloth to the side as quickly as he possibly could as he did not want to spend one more second watching that delicious scene that was you shoving your small fingers inside of your tiny pussy without pleasuring himself to it.
You were so lost in your pleasure haze that you didn't even think someone could be watching you.
But then, suddenly, you stopped what you were doing when you heard a muffled moan of pleasure.
Fuck! Was someone around you?! It couldn't be! But, damn, you knew it was risky to masturbate in the middle of the forest. You just thought you could get lucky and not be seen. Somehow... Yeah. That sounded stupid and you knew it.
You almost panicked when you realized Neteyam was looking at you with a predatory look in his golden eyes, behind a tree near where you were. When you looked down and realized he was touching himself while gazing at you, your mouth fell slightly open.
But your startled face only seemed to make the desire inside him grow even stronger.
Neteyam saw the way your eyes betrayed your shyness just as the way your blood rushed to your cheeks, while you closed your legs fast, pressing your sweet soft thighs against one another but he also had heard from some friends how you had a crazy crush on him. So, he took that as a good sign, something that only meant you were just embarassed you got caught touching yourself and not that you didn't want him too.
"Don't let me interrupt you. It's beautiful. I wanna keep watching you, paskalin." (sweet berry)
"What-" It was hard to talk as you were nervous as hell "What are you doing here?"
"Nothing more natural than an Omatikaya in the forest" He smirked "What are you doing here, sevin tawtute?" (pretty human)
You shut your mouth at that. You couldn't think of a good enough answer.
"You saw me..." your cheeks burned with embarrassment "I was touching myself, OK? Are you gonna judge me? You were doing the same. And looking at me while doing it. You sure are bold." You tried to be confident and overpower him with your argument but it was obviously failing
"Who told you to be touching your pretty pussy in the middle of the forest? Didn't you think someone could catch you?" He said in a mean tone but his na'vi accent only got your already soaked pussy even wetter. The way he rolled the "L" letter... oh my Eywa...
"Of course I thought it could happen. But I hoped no one would. I certainly did not expect you to be creeping around and jerking off while watching me. Pervert." You snapped back
"Cut the crap. I don't need any complications right now, tawtute. I know you have a crush on me and all I want is to cum inside of you. So, tell me. Do you want me? Yes or no. It's simple." Neteyam said impatiently
"What? I don't know what you're talking about!" You tried to hide your feelings but it was useless
Neteyam walked to you, took you with ease from the grass you were laying on and put you over his shoulder. You shaked your legs incessantly in protest.
"What the fuck are you doing?! Let me go, now, Neteyam! Arghhh!" Your shouting only sounded funny to his na'vi ears
Neteyam pressed your body against the nearest large Pandoran tree in front of you two and you could feel his big bulge pressing against your ass as he was lifting you with his blue hands under your arms, your legs hanging in the air, leaving you with the feeling of being helpless at the time.
"I'm gonna say it again and for the last time. Yes or no?"
Your heart beat fast inside your chest as you moved your head back and fourth slightly, telling him that, yes, you did want him to fuck you.
"Yes... Yes, damn it... I want you." You confessed
"Good. That's what I wanted to hear." He stated
Neteyam put you down on the ground again. You stood up but your legs felt weak with anticipation and some fear.
He undid the way the long string of his loincloth was wrapped around his tail to get rid of that piece of clothing that was getting on his way and making it harder for him to just fuck you dumb already.
You just couldn't stop staring at his cock, the way it was huge and all covered in his precum because of the way he had been stroking it while watching you. To know Neteyam's cock was glistening with precum like that because of you made a tight knot form in the lower part of your belly.
"Now, on your knees." He ordered
You swiftly obeyed him. Neteyam had you around his finger. You had dreamed about what it would feel like to have him inside of you for so long. You had always lusted over him when you saw his muscles on display when he practiced his archery on the Omatikaya mainland. But it seemed like he had never noticed you like that before. You thought that perhaps you just didn't spark any interest in him. But maybe you were wrong.
"Now this dripping tawtute pussy is mine! Let me finish the job." Neteyam stated "You'll feel so full with this na'vi cock. You'll see." He smirked in a perverted way
Neteyam walked until he got behind you, got on his knees too and forced you forward just so you would be on all fours for him.
He pressed his swollen tip against your entrance and you whimpered at how good just that felt. You couldn't wait for what was coming.
When you least expected it, he pushed his cock in a quick motion inside of you, burying all of its length inside of you. As your pussy was dripping wet, it wasn't as hard to fit as you thought it would be. You let out a cry of sheer, strong pleasure.
Neteyam covered your mouth with his huge blue hand to prevent you from being too loud but your muffled moans still echoed slightly around the both of you as he pushed his hard big cock roughly inside of your soaked pussy, his hips crashing against your butt and making your soft flesh jiggle which only turned him on even more. He just thought human girls were so hot because of how soft and delicate they were. He was surely loving to squeeze your soft stomach while his hand rested right above your belly button, where the huge bulge his cock was causing on you could be seen.
"Great Mother, your pussy feels too fucking good, yawntutsyìp..." (darling)
Neteyam kept fucking you as deeply as he could, hurting the tip of your womb just enough to make you feel a masochist type of pleasure burning inside of you. At this pace, you suspected you were gonna cream around his cock soon enough.
What if someone came and saw the both of you fucking like that? Oh, God...
But you had to admit that - despite of how wrong that felt - if anything, the being wrong part of it only turned you on more.
"Gonna cum loads inside this ekxìn pussy, tawtute. Did you know I'm on my rut period? I'm needing to release all this cum trapped inside my balls somewhere, baby. They're so heavy." Neteyam whispered in your ear. His words were so dirty but so enticing.
Many hard delicious thrusts later you felt his thick load of cum filling you up to the brim. The feeling was amazing.
After he composed himself and got his breath back again, he said:
"You are a perfect cum slut. You're mine now, tawtute. My mate."
Taglist:
@yeosxxx
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backwardsbread · 2 months
Text
Hazbin Hotel Characters:
Forgetting an anniversary
A/N: This is my first time doing anything like this, so if anybody wants to see more, feel free to ask! The Hazbin brain rot is real—
Warnings‼️: Established relationship, character x reader, fluff, but also some angst?, swearing, gender neutral!reader, mentions of alcohol.
Not really proofread
I didn’t mean to write that much for Alastor but here we are—
Lucifer:
To be fair this guy is the literal KING of hell, (the devil from, THE BIBLE) so to say he’s a busy man is an understatement.
This dude is also MAD depressed making him constantly disassociate, so he’s prone for losing track of what day it is.
You kind of figure he’s forgotten the day is coming up when he’s not hyperfixated on it.
For birthdays, planned dates, special occasions, this man usually goes ALL out.
He tries to keep what he has planned secret, but he’s usually bouncing off the walls the days before, and ends up letting his plans slip.
So when he’s not talking your ear off the day before your anniversary, you suspect the date might’ve slipped his mind.
When the day of your anniversary comes along and you’re not woken up with kisses and cuddles, possibly breakfast in bed, you KNOW your partner has forgotten.
However, you don’t tell him or remind him of the date. Since your partner had a busy day ahead, you didn’t want to force him to focus on you when there much more important things to be settled.
You kind of wallow in your own self pity, while you wait for Lucifer to return to the castle.
Lucifer had plenty of things scheduled for the day, but he can’t shake the feeling that he IS forgetting something.
(And he is)
He checks his schedule, triple checks he didn’t miss any meetings, makes sure he has his lucky duck in his suit pocket.
All seems well. But he still can’t shake the feeling that he’s forgetting something.
It’s not until he gets home later in the evening and SEES you, that he remembers the date.
This man is ON HIS KNEES, profusely apologizing to you. The king of hell is practically begging for your forgiveness.
“Why didn’t you tell me?? You’re more important than some stupid meetings! I’m so sorry, I won’t let this happen again.”
Despite if you say it’s alright, he calls off anything he has scheduled for the next week. Treating you to the prettiest and fanciest places every inch of the pride ring has to offer.
This man usually goes all out for your guys’ dates and such, but this is extravagant. He’s treating you like the royalty you are to hopefully become. (If he ever gets the gall to ask you-)
Vox:
Similar to Lucifer, but even worse in the sense of his schedule is ALWAYS booked. It’s not easy being the face of all tech in the Pride Ring.
This man gets ZERO days off, working 8-12 hour days depending on what’s going on.
He’s got meetings, interviews, paperwork, you name it. This man might as well be the living embodiment of stress.
The thing he usually looks forward to is going home to you. Finally being able to relax and rant about his day.
(Finally able to stop his fake ass smile that’s usually imprinted on his face)
So when he gets home to find you already in bed, fast asleep when you usually would stay up and wait for him, he’s a little peeved.
He tries to be understanding, not really knowing what you might’ve done in the day. Perhaps it could’ve exhausted you. Or maybe you were feeling under the weather.
He then almost throws a full blown hissy fit when he sees blanket and pillow on the couch
A silent demand from you that he is to sleep there for the night.
His screen glitches in silent rage, as he grumbles to himself about how childish you were being for no apparent reason.
The two of you had obviously gotten into fights/arguments, mostly about his work schedule.
But it was rare that those arguments wouldn’t end in the two of you talking it out and ending the night in a cuddle session to make it up to each other.
(Vox refuses to really apologize for his work, his pride won’t let him apologize for something he doesn’t think he did wrong.)
Vox kind of accepts your demand, not wanting to piss you off more. You could talk about it with him tomorrow.
Vox wakes up early the day after your anniversary, going to work as usual. Velvette is getting him in ready in a new suit she designed. While she’s getting him ready she asks;
“So how was your night? Did you have anything planned?”
“Uhh.. what? Planned for what?”
“Wasn’t yesterday your anniversary?”
“….Fuuu-huh-huuuck”
He ditches his morning broadcast, instead heading towards his monitor room. When he sees you’re awake, and on your phone, he makes his face appear on the small screen.
Which scares the shit out of you— he usually gave some sort of warning when he was going to just appear on your device.
By the look on his face, you can tell he now knows the reason you made him sleep on the couch. You give him a look in return, waiting for his excuse.
And just by the look on your face, he can tell you’re not willing to hear any bullshit he has to spit about his work being a priority.
His screen glitches in a slight panic, as he’s sort of loss for words at first. He could tell you were angry, and he knew only he was responsible for causing that.
To your surprise, he actually apologizes, saying how there was no excuse for his absence and your guys’ special day.
He reassures you it won’t happen again, telling you how he still loves you. He has you pick any place of your choice for the two of you to go to dinner tonight.
(He hacks into the system to be put on the reservation list)
Anything to somewhat make it up to one of the only souls that truly understands him in this miserable afterlife.
Alastor:
He’s not as busy of a man as Vox or Lucifer, but he’s not very big on celebrations like birthdays or anniversaries.
You’re his and he is yours, you both don’t need to prove that to anyone.
But…..it would feel nice to at least acknowledge the stepping stones in your guys’ relationship.
Alastor doesn’t really understand the hints you drop when mentioning your guys’ anniversary.
He definitely knows the date is coming, but once the day arrives, he treats it like it’s just any other day.
He notices your mood is less cheery than any normal day, but doesn’t connect the dots that it’s because of HIS behavior.
(What could he have POSSIBLY done wrong??)
He instead tries to cheer you up by poking fun at you the entire day. Calling you little names like “grouch, stick in the mud, drag”.
Insisting that you wipe that frown off your face and replace it with a similar smile to his own permanent one.
He unknowingly rocks the boat with his behavior, only making your mood turn more sour.
Before he can even continue his banter for the last half of the day, you’re ignoring him. Not giving any excuse to him either, you’re just walking away from him.
He makes fun of your bitter mood? You didn’t hear it.
He asks you a question? Your conversation with Charlie is more important.
He tries to hold your hand or embrace you? You suddenly have something totally necessary to get done on the opposite side of the hotel.
You are determined to push all of his buttons just as he had unknowingly done to you.
And this absolutely gets under his skin.
Alastor is one for control, he needs to know everything, he needs to be in charge of situations. Why you were being so stubborn, this man is CLUELESS. And that irritates him to no end.
Tensions are high in the hotel, with a very grumpy radio demon and his other half who refuses to sooth his anger.
Night falls on Hell painfully slow, as you just want this whole day to disappear and never return. You sit at the bar, swirling around the liquid in your glass.
Husk knew better than to pry at you and your annoyance towards your significant other. He instead kept your glass filled, and offered you a soft smile.
You’re slightly buzzed when your source of annoyance sits in the bar stool right next to you. You feel Alastor’s gaze on you, but you keep your eyes on your drink.
You feel static prick at your skin, making the hair on your arms rise from the chill. You hear the crackle of a very peeved radio demon sitting beside you.
Who did you think you were?? Ignoring someone like him! You were his lover and you were treating him like he meant nothing to you.
(At least that’s what it felt like)
The overlord beside you finally snaps, his voice toned heavily with radio static, his eyes darkening with dial pupils.
“What is with this behavior, 𝙈̳̎𝙮̳̎ 𝙙̳̎𝙚̳̎𝙖̳̎𝙧̳̎? What could possibly be your excuse for such immature actions towards me?”
Maybe it’s because you’re slightly buzzed from one too many drinks, maybe your emotions had been building up way too quickly from your irritation, maybe you felt guilty for treating your S/O like spoiled leftovers all day.
But as you look towards Alastor, observing his anger, your eyes suddenly well up with big crocodile tears, threatening to spill if you even dare to blink.
Alastor notices your expression soften and watches some unwanted tears slip down your face. There’s literally a record scratch as he just watches you desperately try and hide your face from him.
His eyes soften back to their normal red hue and he feels his harsh smile crack at the edges.
(If he could frown, he absolutely would seeing as you were so hurt by his actions.)
He’s quick to comfort you, pulling you in and whispering comforting words. Shooting a glare at Husk to leave the two of you alone and to not speak a word of this to anybody.
The two of you talk out your feelings about the day. You admit how you felt a bit abandoned by his lack of acknowledgement for the date.
He promises to you that for your next anniversary, because he knows you will always be his, he will make sure to make you feel as special as you truly are to him.
2K notes · View notes
tare-anime · 3 months
Text
I love to see Loid's protective side towards Yor growing at a steady pace.
Loid has always been so protective towards Yor from the beginning, even before he himself was aware.
As shown at chp. 5
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Here, he has just met Yor, but the moment Swan dared to stomp on her feelings, he got agitated and defend her right away. Even though, he still able to stop himself, and rationalize things.
It happened again during chp. 30
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Look at how fast Loid's expression changed from "Hey, what are you doing here, Fiona?" Into "I dare you to say another word about Yor (grrrr)", at the exact moment Fiona dare to imply how worthless Yor was.
Still, after this time, once again Loid rationalized all of actions are for mere mission sake, even though we know during later chapter that he dislike the disguise that imply he and Fiona were married couple.
During Wheeler arc, at chp. 86, Loid finally aware about his "weakness". And that weakness is someone named Yor.
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(smh. 🙄🙄 This man really is slow in learning about feelings. But he is getting there......)
Nevertheless, this realization really evoke his protective side. And almost immediately after this moment, he started to actively move to protect Yor, even in the slightest sign of possible 'attack'.
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At the latest chapter, chp. 94, a.k.a only in 6 chapters later, he even starts to actively use his physical power to prevent even the slightest discomfort to happen towards Yor.
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Look at how hard Loid gripped that man's arm for daring to suggest tying Yor up. And that glare??? Geeezzzz.....
Now, I have a desperate need to see Loid going full attack towards someone who dares to hurt Yor either pysiologically or (is it possible?) physically in somekind of situation like maybe something like (shameless self promotion here) my fic.
Please Endoooooo, I'm begging you..... 🙏🙏
Give us more protective and jealous Loid.
I need to see it 😫😫😫😫😫
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strawberrysturniolo · 3 months
Note
i love the whole ‘best friends who ‘accidentally’ had sex’ type of concept and it really fits chris 😭 like imagine attending the end of the summer cookout marylou and jimmy have every year, you and chris decide to have wine coolers because why not?
next thing you know….
never grow up // chris sturniolo
summary: you and your childhood best friend reunite after months apart. after a couple of drinks, secrets start spilling, leading to lust that has been put on the back burner for years part 2
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Chris and I have been inseparable since the day we met. With us living on the same street growing up, we were always together. If there was a picture taken of one of us as a kid, chances are the other one was in the background trying to photobomb. 
Watching Chris and his brothers make the move to LA was hard. I sat back and supported my best friend, but it sucked knowing that our fault routine of being together after school and having sleepovers was coming to an end.
It all happened so fast. One minute he was there, and the next he was gone. 
The love I have for Chris is unlike anything else in the world. I love Nick, and I adore Matt, but it’s different with Chris. We connect in different ways. We trust each other differently. I’ve never had a friendship like it, and I don’t think I ever will. We always joked about being in each other's weddings. He wanted me to stand with all the groomsmen, and I told him he could stand with the girls. 
We had our lives planned together, and I never thought I’d have to see us fade away from each other. 
We try to talk as much as possible, but with his ridiculous sleep schedule mixed with his work life and time zones, it’s mostly scattered snapchats that keep us from forgetting what the other person looks like. 
A tradition growing up was going to his house for the end of the year cookout. When we were little we would play in the pool, seeing who could collect the most shark toys and torpedoes that we launched into the bottom, and as we got older it turned into chicken fights, then us floating around the pool, asking each other questions about life. 
“Do you ever think about what would happen if your husband didn’t like me?” he had asked me on a sunny day in Massachusetts when we were 16. 
“Yeah,” I said, dragging my hand through the water to cool myself down. “I’d tell him to fuck himself, and if he doesn’t love my best friend like a brother, then I want no part of him. You’ll always come first.”
He gave me that classic, cheesy grin of his and then splashed a wave of water against me, knocking me from my float. 
He’s not coming this year. He’s busy at work in LA. I can feel him drifting away. 
As I help his parents set up some of the food trays, I hear their side door open by the kitchen. I don’t bother looking up, knowing guests have been coming and going all day. It isn’t until two arms wrap around me from behind that my eyes shoot open. 
“Miss me?”
Chris. 
I spin around, staring at him with my jaw dropped. I can see his mom out of the corner of my eye, smiling at us. She must have known about this. I’m sure he told his mom. 
“Oh my god,” is all I can bring myself to say. My eyes start to well with tears. I haven’t seen him since last Christmas. I missed his birthday. He missed me. Our times were always off. 
He squeezed me as our bodies clung to each other. “Don’t cry, you’ll make me cry, Sunny.”
Sunny. The nickname he gave me when we were little, which came from Sunshine. We were 8, swinging on a playground. He had a bad day. We played together after school and he told me whenever he feels sad, his day always gets sunnier with me around. He always was able to make me feel loved and appreciated as his friend, and as we got older, that only grew. 
I know he loves me. He just needed to chase his dream. That doesn’t mean he loves me any less than he ever did. 
“I missed you so much,” he says, holding me even tighter than before. 
“I missed your voice.”
“I’m sorry,” he says quickly. “I need to make an effort to call you more. I’m just so-“
“Busy,” I finish for him. “I know.”
His face falls. “Yeah.”
I don’t want him to feel bad for what he’s doing. He deserves something so amazing. He’s worked so hard for it. 
“You’re here now though,” I smile. “Can we just pretend like you’ve been here and you never left?”
He smiles softly, nodding. “Yeah.”
I sit by his side for hours, smiling at him as he fills everyone in on what’s he’s been up to. He’s the talk of the town. Everyone is amazed to see him and his brothers do such big things. 
Everyone erupts into laughter when Chris tells his stories, and when Matt and Nick add on more anecdotes, the house is filled with pure joy and love for these boys we watched grow up. 
“I’m gonna get a drink,” Chris says, excusing himself. “You want anything?” he points to me. 
“Whatever you get for yourself is fine,” I nod, adding on a thank you before he leaves. 
He comes back with two Pepsi cans. I notice they’re already opened, but I don’t think anything of it. Knowing Chris, I fully expect him to have drank some of mine, and that’s him trying to be funny. 
My face puckers at the taste of wine in my can. 
He emptied the Pepsi out and poured wine in it instead. 
He smiles next to me, trying not to laugh. 
A memory of us from when we were 14 comes back to me, and I know that’s what he’s trying not to laugh about. 
“Chris! We can’t take their wine!”
“My parents have like 20 bottles. They never drink. These are all Christmas gifts from other people. I promise they won’t notice,” he assured me. 
I watched as he poured the glasses half full. It seemed like far too much. 
“Try it,” he said, nudging a glass to me. “It’s disgusting.”
I took a hesitant sip. This was fucking awful, but I found myself drinking more at the idea of the thrill. We were doing something we weren’t supposed to, which made the alcohol taste even better. 
A half hour later we were both stumbling up to his bedroom, and I managed to make it to the bathroom before throwing up, almost missing his toilet. 
He held my hair back and apologized for giving me alcohol. He promised he wouldn’t tell anyone we drank. And he never did. 
“Doesn’t taste as bad now, huh?” he asks, snapping me out of my memory. 
I roll my eyes and take another sip. He’s right. 
Once everyone leaves for the night, my family stays back to help Chris’ parents clean up, and my parents were offered a plethora of leftovers.
When Chris showed up, it was a no-brainer that I would be staying here tonight, so he led me upstairs while everyone else said their goodbyes. 
“Shhh,” he hushed me as my giggles flooded the hallway. I’m definitely tipsy, but I’m completely coherent. I think most of my giggles come from the fact that he’s back in Boston. I’m just giddy and happy. 
“Sorry!” I apologize anyway, even though he’s not bothered by the sound of my laughter. He smiles at it. He loves it. 
He lays out a pair of pajamas for me like he always used to. It’s an old shirt from our high school with his lacrosse number on it, and a pair of his boxers. 
I find myself thinking about the girls he had been with that were jealous of what I had with him. Me and Chris had never even kissed, so to think he would be accused of so much more with me was ridiculous. He never failed to stand up for me though. He could have the number one girl, someone perfect for him, and he’d say goodbye to him if they said one bad thing about me. 
We will always be rooting for each other no matter what. 
“Tomorrow we should actually do some stuff around town,” he says as he changes into something to sleep in. “I’ve been traveling all day and I’m so fucking tired. I just want to lay in bed.” He finishes his statement and flops down on the bed, laying his head next to my thighs.
“I really missed you, Chris. A lot,” I respond, ignoring his suggestion. 
He sits up next to me, looking down at me in his clothing. “I know, Sunshine. I missed you just as much. More, probably.” 
I felt safe with him again, a feeling that had been lost as we spent months and months apart. I craved moments like these, where we would stay up together and laugh. 
The mood in his room shifts when he says, “What ever happened with you and Aaron?”
He knows what happened. I told him before I told anyone else. 
He broke up with me with no explanation, and I was left heartbroken and confused. I wanted nothing more than a hug from Chris, but 3,000 miles kept that from happening. 
“We’re not talking anymore,” I remind him. I really don’t want to be talking about boys right now, but it seems that’s the topic of conversation that is interesting to him most. “Any girls that have your attention in LA?”
He shrugs. “Not really. They’re cool, some are cute, but I don’t know. I don’t think I wanna do anything with any of them.”
Chris has always been very anti-relationships, but that never stopped him from having his fair share of fun. He always made sure they were on the same page that it was just benefits, sometimes not even friends. I am curious what turns him away from exploring with girls in LA. “Why not?” 
“They just don’t have what I’m looking for. I want someone who understands me and what I want, but only a few people get that,” he explains. “I don’t know. I don’t want to waste my time with someone if I know from the jump that it feels like a waste. And I think about you, and how we are, and I don’t think I’ll ever be that close with anyone else. I don’t want to be. I don’t want to think about someone ever taking your place.”
“You can set limits,” I suggest. “But don’t keep yourself from meeting people because you’re worried about me feeling replaced. I won’t ever feel that way. I just want you to be happy.”
“Well, that’s not the only reason you’re a problem in it.”
There’s an ache in my chest at the thought of me being a part of a problem in his life. 
“What?”
“I just– There have been issues before… in the past… where girls have felt threatened by you,” he says, looking down at his fingers, where he picks at the dead skin nervously. “That’s not your fault by the way. It’s dumb. I just… I don’t know.”
I pull his hands away from him. “I love you, Chris.”
He smiles at me and says, “I love you too.”
Somehow, his feels different. 
I check the time on my phone, putting in beside me and announcing to him, “I’m gonna go to bed.”
Just like we always did, innocently of course, I placed the softest and quickest peck to his cheek closest to me. 
I did this as a kid, mostly because Chris would freak out if his mom didn’t give him a kiss goodnight. He insisted that it kept the bad dreams away, and he would ask me to do the same for him when he spent the night at my house. 
So I kissed his cheek like always. 
I tried to.
But Chris moved his head.
His lips graze mine. There isn’t much contact, but there’s enough for me to know that we just kissed, barely. 
He knows exactly what he just did, yet he’s looking at me like he’s shocked. 
I’m not drunk, but maybe this is acting as liquid courage. That’s what I tell myself when I fully grab my best friend’s cheeks and press my lips to his. He lets out a deep breath against me, holding the back of my neck and fisting a handful of my hair. 
What are we doing? I’m kissing my best fucking friend. My best friend of 15 years. 
I’m lost in my own head, completely out of it until I feel him lay on top of me, pinning my arms over my head with one hand as he kisses down my neck with the other. 
I lift my chin, giving him more room to kiss me.
He finishes placing wet kisses to my skin, then puts his lips back on mine. His full lips overtake mine, but we form a rhythm that has my chest tightening. He kisses me slowly, but the more tongue we add to the mix, the louder it sounds. 
We make out for some time. I lose all track of it. I don’t even know if I’m in reality anymore. My hips aimlessly lift up to try to find something to create friction against. I almost forgot who I was kissing until he pulled back and said, “We’re entering dangerous territory here, Sunshine.”
“What do you want to do then?”
He falls silent, and I fully expect him to lay down next to me and pretend this never happened.
He does the opposite. 
“I would never be doing this if it wasn’t something I had thought about for years.”
My heart feels like it’s pounding out of my chest. 
Everyone who watched us grow up together is in this house. 
And he’s pinning me down to the bed kissing me in the same room we used to play in. 
“Then do something about it,” I taunt.
He loves this invitation.
Going zero to one hundred, Chris sits up, pulling his shirt off and tossing it beside me. I’ve seen him shirtless a million times. Hell, I’ve seen his bare ass. This is different though. So much different. 
He puts his lips back on mine as his hands slide to the bare skin under my shirt. Without a second thought, I remove it, completely forgetting that I don’t have a bra on. 
His eyes focus on my body, his jaw slacked and his cheeks turning red. 
“Holy shit.”
I instinctively try to cover myself somehow. He grabs my arms and pulls them back down. 
“No no,” he shakes his head. “Let me admire you, pretty girl.”
He kisses me softly down my chest, flicking his tongue over my nipples before sucking them into his mouth, all while he’s rubbing his hand on my inner thigh.
I shift my hips, positioning his hand right over where I need him the most. He stares up at me in awe as I give him this sign of approval, and without wasting any time, he dives his hand into the boxers around me. His underwear. I mimic his movements, dropping my hand through the waistband of his shorts and swiping my thumb over the tip of his hardened cock. He winces at my touch, gasping out of desperation. 
“Please,” he whines. “Don’t start something you can’t finish. I’m begging you.”
I yank his shorts down, having the same reaction to his dick that he did to my boobs. I lay below him in shock, mostly baffled by the fact that he’s hung, but also the fact that we’re in this situation. 
When he gets nervous from my staring, he places soft kisses to my lips again, like he’s trying to put my attention elsewhere. 
“Sunshine,” he pants. “I can’t… If we’re gonna do this… I can’t wait,” he breathes out. “I need you now.”
I stroke him slowly, watching his stomach heave. “Have me then.”
In an instant he has my boxers and underwear on the floor in one fluid motion, spreading my legs and laying between them.
“Can’t believe you’ve been keeping this from me,” he whispers. He touches my dripping folds carefully, then licks his finger clean. “Fuck, you’re perfect. Always have been.”
I’m in my most vulnerable state. Not only am I naked in front of a man, but this is the guy who has watched me grow up. He has seen me through every stage of life, and now he’s about to be touching me, fucking me. 
“Chris,” I say his name quickly, urgently, like I’m running out of time to say anything.
He looks down at me, pausing from where he was lining himself up between my legs. 
I love you.
He smiles and says, “I know,” before putting my legs over his shoulders and pushing himself inside of me. 
My fist clenches a nearby pillow as my body adjusts to him stretching me out. Chris gasps out in pleasure and shock from this entire experience. He drops his face into my neck, letting me hear his soft moans as he feels me clenching, throbbing around him. 
When I give him the okay, he starts thrusting into me slowly, both of us silent, letting the sound of our skin finding each other ring in our ears. 
I’m having sex with my best friend. 
He places a kiss on my thigh, where it rests next to his face. Then, he pushes one of my legs out, spreading me open more.
“Fuck!” I cry out, the sound quickly masked by Chris’ mouth, where he places his lips over mine again to shut me up. 
“Gotta be quiet, Sunny,” he warns me. I nod, and he puts his hand over my mouth, making sure I keep the volume down. 
His dick hits every spot perfectly. His body clings to mine as our orgasms are in sight. I find myself begging for him, moaning his name, something I never would have expected from us. 
Chris sits up on his knees, pressing my knees to my chest as he pounds into me, his face staring down with a dominant gaze, watching his dick fill me as my cum drips around him.
“Fuckkk,” he groans. “Such a dirty girl.”
All self control leaves me when I don’t bother hesitating as I respond with, “Yours.”
He nods, speeding up his pace. His thrusts become sloppier, much sloppier. “All fucking mine,” he reminds me, then pulls himself out of my pussy and strokes himself through his orgasm, letting himself finish on my lower stomach.
He quickly gets a towel and cleans me up before he places his head on my boobs. My hands dig into his hair, running my hands through his loose curls. 
“You’re the best thing that ever happened to me, Sunshine, you know that?”
I smile to myself, but I also know that we completely fucked up us ever having a normal friendship after this. 
My best friend and I fucked. 
And he doesn’t do relationships. 
“You’re my favorite,” I whisper back. 
He places a kiss to my stomach, and I can feel the smile on his face when he does so.
I don’t smile. I know that with our decision tonight, we lost one side of our relationship. 
We either become romantic and it gets fucked up and we lose a friendship too, or our friendship becomes awkward and crumbles because of this. 
Neither of us thought about that before we got ourselves tangled up in each other, and I’m doing everything I can to forget about that fear and focus on the boy I’ve been in love with for years laying on my chest. 
tag list: @secret-sturniolo @chrisloyalgf @strnilo @draculaura123 @jellybeanbby @qwertytit @55sturn @sleepysturnss @creamoncreamoncream2 @sturnvvz @swaggygirlboss123 @angelworldspost @patscorner @ducksturniolo @mattitties @luv4kozume @mbbsgf @freshloveforthefit @ripmattitude @gamermattsgf @strniololoverr @urmom2bitch @sturnitup @luvmila444 @st7rnioioss @sturniolosreads @pepsiskiess @alorsxsturn @sturniolopepsi @sturnsgasoline @sturns-posts@sstvrnioloo @strawberrymilk4k @ratatioulle @kiibichio @nickmillersn1gf @milesfordays11 @l9vesick @mattsturnzzz09 @mattnchrisworld
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pathologicalreid · 3 months
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Can you write bau!reader who is pregnant x spencer, they have an argument and spencer gets really angry, snaps at her and then leaves, and she ends up going into labor early
brilliance | S.R.
in which reader goes into labor after a fight and spencer is nowhere to be found
who? spencer reid x fem!pregnant!BAU!reader category: angst content warnings: pregnancy/labor, hospitals, premature birth, possible medical inaccuracy. word count: 2.41k a/n: thank you for the request anon! this one kind of got away from me so it's a little long. i feel inclined to tell you that my place holder title for this request was "womp womp"
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You followed your husband into the bullpen, he was on a tear, and unfortunately, you found yourself on the receiving end. “Spencer, slow down,” you pleaded with him, walking as fast as you were able in order to catch up with him.
He spun around and looked at you, “You shouldn’t even have been in the field, Y/N! What if something had happened to you?” He dropped his bag on his desk and glared at you, you hated seeing that fire in his eyes, but you needed to stand your ground.
“I was not in the field, we happened to be nearby, and a crime was being committed,” you corrected him, “Luke went in. I stayed in the SUV, Spence.”
Spencer shook his head like he was trying to tell you that your answer wasn’t good enough, “You are thirty-four weeks pregnant, you should have stayed here.”
Frustrated, you threw your hands up, “That’s not the deal, Spencer. Non-dangerous field situations, remember? It’s worked until now.”
“The point I’m trying to make is that any non-violent situation can turn violent,” he told you, crossing his arms in front of his chest.
Shrugging, you stepped towards him, “You’re right, but-“
“Then how could you be so stupid? Putting yourself in danger like that?” He said, cutting you off.
You felt like the wind had been knocked out of your lungs. You opened your mouth to respond when Rossi came out of his office, oblivious to the discussion the two of you were having, he went to Spencer and asked him if he wanted to check out a lead they had on the case.
To your surprise, he went with Rossi, leaving you in the bullpen, staring after him as the elevator doors closed. “Hey,” a familiar voice said next to you. “What do you say we go visit Penelope?” JJ asked you as she set a comforting hand on your arm, not waiting for an answer as she led you out of the glass doors and towards Penelope’s office.
You covered your face with your hands, “Did everyone just see that?” You whispered, horrified.
“I wouldn’t worry about that right now,” she said, knocking on the door before Garcia invited you in. JJ grabbed chairs for the two of you and you gratefully accepted.
Slouched in the chair, your eyes burned as JJ recounted the story for Penelope. “He called her what?” You shifted uncomfortably in the chair, a dull ache in your lower back preventing you from getting comfortable.
It seemed inevitable; you married a guy with six degrees. You were always bound to be the less intelligent one in the relationship. You just never thought Spencer would be the one reminding you of it. It's one of your biggest insecurities, and he broadcasted it for the entire BAU to hear.
“Oh,” Garcia said, “I’m going to give him a piece of my mind. I cannot believe he said that to you!” She waved a pen in the air, which was about the extent of her anger. “And then he just left?” She groaned, “Men.”
“Amen,” JJ concurred.
You didn’t answer, you just wiped a tear from your cheek and took a deep breath, the pain in your back subsiding.
Garcia looked at you and smiled, “he’ll come back, and when he does, I highly encourage you to call him stupid.”
Halfheartedly, you smiled at her, “Thanks, Pen. I just…” The ache grew in your back again, “I wish I knew what was going through his head.”
“He’s probably nervous about being a dad,” JJ admitted. “It’s something he’s always wanted, and years ago he had kind of resorted to the idea that it wasn’t going to happen. Then you got married, and then you got pregnant, and things changed again.”
You gripped the arm of the chair and tried to ignore the worried look that the two blondes exchanged.
Penelope leaned forward, “Are you alright?” She asked nervously.
Nodding, you winced, which definitely gave you away. “It’s just Braxton Hicks,” you said, waving away her concern.
JJ raised her eyebrows, “Are they coming consistently?” She asked, reaching into her back pocket and pulling out her phone.
“Uh, maybe? I haven’t been timing them. They’ve been coming all morning… Wait, hey! No, I can’t be in labor,” you said, you were only thirty-four weeks.
Helping you stand, Garcia looked at you, as serious as you’ve ever seen her and said, “It might be a good idea to get checked out anyways, okay? It might be nothing.”
She didn’t have to say it for you to know, it could be nothing, but you could also be having a baby today. You hadn’t picked godparents, you hadn’t picked a name, and you didn’t have your hospital bag with you. “I’ll go tell Emily,” JJ said, rushing out of the room and leaving you with Penelope.
“There has to be something about this room, this is where JJ went into labor with Henry many moons ago,” Penelope picked up her things.
Tears pricked your eyes, but you swallowed them down, “Will you call him for me?” You asked her, watching as she quickly dialed Spencer’s number on her phone.
She failed to hide the way her face fell when he didn’t answer, “I will- I’m going to keep calling until I get an answer.”
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Phones weren’t allowed in the room, so JJ sat next to your hospital bed while Penelope tried to reach Spencer. “If he misses this, I’m going to throttle him,” JJ said, shaking her head in disbelief.
“If he misses this, it’s going to crush him,” you whispered, watching the monitor you were hooked up to. He might’ve hurt your feelings, but missing the birth of your baby? That was something he couldn’t get back. Your doctor had tried to stop your labor, but you kept progressing anyway. “Did she try Rossi?”
JJ nodded, looking out into the hallway as Penelope paced through the hallway, her heels clicking on the hospital floor.
You took a deep breath, “I’m worried they’re in trouble, or something happened. Oh my god, JJ. What if something happened?”
Vaguely aware of how your heart rate spiked, JJ grabbed your hand, “Hey, don’t worry about that. They would’ve called for backup if they were in trouble.”
Nodding, you leaned back into the pillows, the number of machines you were hooked up to made it hard to get comfortable. That didn’t even account for the contractions. “I’m glad you’re here because you know what’s happening. Even though we’re on an active case,” you told her.
“And you’re in active labor, of course I’m here,” she told you.
The doctor came back in to check on you, and when she told you that you were nearly there you cried. You had been with Spencer for years, at some points it genuinely felt like you had gone to hell and back together. One bickering match at Quantico wasn’t enough to stop the two of you.
From the hallway, you heard Penelope shout, “Oh my god, David Rossi!”
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You watched as Spencer rushed through the hospital hallway, his shoes squeaking as he turned to face you in the doorway. He opened his mouth like he wanted to say something, but he didn’t know where to begin.
“Hey JJ, can you give us a minute?” You asked, reaching out to squeeze her hand. After assuring her that you were going to be fine, she walked out of the room, neglecting to greet Spencer on her way out. “She’s mad at you,” you explained. “Garcia too,” you finished, your eyes following him as he sat down in the chair that JJ had previously occupied.
Slowly, Spencer slowly approached your bed, his eyes flicked over to the bassinet that would soon hold your baby before his golden irises studied your face. Taking a deep breath, he reached over and held your left hand – the one that brandished your wedding ring. “They’ll live,” he assured you, “but what about you?”
You hummed, “Maybe on a different day, I’d be mad at you. Not today though. You hurt my feelings, but I’m not mad at you.” He tenderly kissed the back of your hand as another contraction roiled through you.
“I’m sorry,” he told you earnestly, “I’m so sorry.” He looked around the room, “Only you would go into labor and not realize it. How’s your pain?” He asked, immediately jumping into his role.
Smiling softly, you tilted your head towards him, “You always said my high pain tolerance would get me in trouble someday.” You shifted slightly in the bed, “I’m good, Spence, honest.” Of course, the epidural helped immensely. “I just wish I had the bag,” you admitted.
He grinned, “I have it.” Reaching behind him, he grabbed the bag and lifted it up to show you. The two of you had packed the hospital bag together, and fortunately had the foresight to pack it early.
“I love you!” You blurted, laughing despite yourself. ��Oh, I was so upset, Spence!”
Leaning forward, Spencer pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead, your skin was clammy, but he didn’t seem to mind. “We were on our way, but I knew you’d want it. In between encouraging me and berating me, Dave stopped so I could grab it from the house. I felt like I needed to bring it as reparations.”
You shook your head, “I’ll get my reparations. I’ll get them in the form of you changing diapers and waking up in the middle of the night.”
He laughed slightly before the smile faded from his face. “You know I think you’re brilliant, right?” Spencer whispered, his expression serious. “Genuinely, Y/N. You’ll say I’m the genius, but your ability to keep up with me is unmatched. It’s one of the reasons I love you so much.”
You opened your mouth to respond but groaned as a contraction hit you.
“Hey,” Spencer whispered, “You’ve got this, love. You’re doing incredible.” As the pain subsided, your eyebrows furrowed, and he noticed. “What is it? What’s wrong?”
Taking a deep breath, you looked up at him, “I want to push,” you answered.
He nodded and stood up, “I’ll go get the doctor.”
Before he left, he leaned over and pressed a soft kiss to your lips. “Spence,” you whispered, “You’re going to be a great dad,” you told him. You were thinking about what you had talked to JJ and Garcia about earlier, about Spencer being worried about being a dad. He could worry all he wanted, you knew Spencer Reid, and you knew he was going to be an incredible father.
Smiling softly, he responded, “You’re going to be an even better mom.” He assured you that he’d be right back before he went into the hallway.
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Small.
She was so small. Just under five pounds, but to your relief, she came out crying. She'd need to spend some time in the NICU, but for now she was with you.
She had been measured, wiped down, tested, and fed, and now she was asleep on your chest. “You’re hovering,” you whispered, sparing a glance over at your husband. He was slightly leaning over the bed with his chin resting in his hands. The two of you had named her Lucie, after a character in your favorite Dickens novel.
“Get used to it,” he whispered back at you. Reaching over and pulling your daughter’s blanket further over her tiny shoulders. Moving his hand up to you, he swept an awry strand of hair from your face, “How are you?”
You felt like your body had been put through a laundry wringer, but you just closed your eyes and hummed, settling back into the pillows even more. “Sore, but happy. Exhausted, but exhilarated. I also kind of feel like bursting into tears,” you said, keeping your voice low. “And don’t lecture me about my hormones, or I will burst into tears.”
Spencer smiled slightly, “You should rest. Do you want to put her in the bassinet?” He said, the bassinet was right next to your bed so you could easily access it.
“Why don’t you hold her?” You asked softly, studying his body language. “She’s your daughter, there’s nothing to worry about,” you tried to comfort him.
He shook his head, “That’s exactly why I’m worried.”
You waited for him to continue. Over the years, you had seen him with Henry, Michael, and Hank, he handled them all very well, but he seemed unnerved by your daughter. “Are you upset that she’s a girl?” You asked, looking around at the pink balloons in the room.
“What? No, definitely not. It’s not that she’s a girl, it’s that she’s my girl,” Spencer said, speaking with his hands as he clarified what was bothering him.
My girl. Your heart clenched at his words. “Here,” you said, adjusting the baby so you could hand her to her dad. Lucie’s mittened hands flailed slightly but she didn’t fully rouse, quickly settling onto her father’s chest. “Spencer, you are not your father,” you told him, keeping your voice firm.
He pressed his lips together in a thin white line and nodded, “I know.”
“Do you? Because I really need you to know that,” you insisted. “You’re not your father. Do you know how I know that?”
Spencer closed his eyes, and a tear streamed down his cheek. “Because you’re brilliant?”
You grinned and shook your head, “No, Spence. It’s because I know you. Your loyalty knows no bounds, and sometimes you say stupid things, but I know that you love me. I know that you love our daughter, and I know that you’ll never leave. I promise never to take advantage of that so long as you promise to never change.”
He seemed to think about your words for a moment, looking down at the sleeping newborn in his arms. “You are brilliant,” he whispered. “I’m so sorry.”
“You said that already,” you whispered. Really, Spencer had apologized so many times that you had lost count.
Spencer sighed, and you could almost see the tension leave his body, “’You have been the last dream of my soul,’” He quoted to you. “I was scared. No amount of fear can justify what I said to you.”
You watched as Lucie wriggled in Spencer’s arms, “Maybe not, but you have the rest of our lives to make it up to me.” In the quiet hospital room, you heard a bubbling sound, “You could probably start by changing her diaper.”
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please reblog, comment, and/or like if you enjoyed 💛
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experimentfae · 3 months
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Alastor x Wife! Reader
Oneshot / fluff
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After you and alastor had moved into the hotel to “help.” Let’s just say that the rest of the hotel residents saw pda all. The. Time.
Vaggie watched as alastor kissed your hand again! “Sweet satan can those two get a room already that’s literally the seventh time he kissed her hand.” She grumbled out “aw come on vaggie you have to admit it’s sweet seeing love like that’s down here, it’s rare, except our love of course.” Stated Charlie.
“I get it, we get like that, but the difference is that we do it SOMETIMES they do it EVERY TIME they have the chance.” She Argued “and besides I just really don’t like that radio dipshit.” “Oh please you don’t like anyone attached to a dick.” Angel dust butted in while he laid on the other couch busy looking at his phone.
Vaggie could only roll her eyes in response “well I think our pda is not of your concern.” Spoke alastor with a smug look which made everyone except you jump a little “satan’s asshole do you always have to come out like that?!” Argued angeldust “it’s more entertaining to watch all of you jump in a little scare.” Alastor replied proud of himself to make them a little scared.
“Dear even if it was quite hilarious we can’t do that to them all the time… it wouldn’t be entertaining anymore like that.” You advised him while you walked towards him to be next to him. “You’re right my dear, wouldn’t wish that.”
“Yep a match made in hell.” Grumbled out husk then he continued to take his beer “husk is right my dear we the perfect pair.” “I don’t think that’s what he meant sorta, but we are perfect for each other.” Just then you looked to see the clock then you let out a gasp “oh Al we don’t want to be late for our dinner reservations.” You stated, “oh yes, we must get ready.”
With a simple snap of his finger’s you and alastor were completely dressed “what’s up with the getup?” Angeldust questioned “it’s our anniversary, so we going to the cannibal colony to alastor’s favorite restaurant.” You smiled “wait you’re a cannibal too.” Vaggie asked in shock “well… I did try demon meat and it’s not that bad.” You answers shrugging your shoulders “so that’s a yes? Or … no?” Charlie questioned further “mmm yeah I believe so.” You answered again.
“Huh didn’t take you for a cannibal.” Spoke husk “yeah have you ate another’s man pecker and Al if she did would you be ok with that?” Questioned angeldust “absolutely not.” You both answered “enough with the questions we must hurry (y/n).” Demanded alastor “goodb- you didn’t get to finish you’re farewell due to alastor, once again he snapped his fingers and you were at the restaurant.
“Thankfully my love we made it on time.” Alastor spoke while he grabbed your hand and guided you inside the restaurant. A host was at the front seeming to writing something “welcome to the FedOnPals how may- when he looked up he immediately panicked “T-The alastor by hen smiled wider “yes me the radio demon and my lovely wife!” Alastor stated proudly also just because you knew he was an attention whore so he wanted others to know he was there.
Of course some of the cannibals in the restaurant seemed nervous. “Well- yes um of course I see you’re name on the list so… let me b-bring to your table.” The man said clearly wanting to get out of this situation as fast as possible.
Of course you two got the best seats in the house “a waiter will be with you shortly very… shortly p-promise.” The host immediately left with only made alastor chuckle “I do love the perks of being an overlord.” “Aw even more than me?” You teased with a smirk, he smiled wider “no dear you know I can’t love anything more than you.”
You smiled “I love the outfits you picked for us by the way very classy.” “Of course, only the best for my wife.” Just then a waiter came in “hello I’m Mindy and I’ll have your orders.” The demoness spoke as she gave you two the menus.
As the demoness left you two picked out your orders, ate, alastor paid then you two left to go to a jazz club to dance “oh honey you rembered my favorite spot.” You spoke with pure joy “I could never forget, besides our love for jazz is how we meet.” You smiled brighten as you pecked his cheek making him lightly blush “adorable.” “Me? adorable!? dear don’t joke like that.” Alastor demanded making you laugh “oh honey alright just having a little fun.”
Alastor opened the door for you, the song ‘lets misbehave’ by Irving Aaronson filled you’re ears “oh that’s a good song.” You stated, you thanked alastor and went through and he went after you.
You immediately dragged him to the dance floor which he happily let you, both you begin doing the Charleston funny enough this song always reminded you have alastor.
He then brought you into the foxtrot dance, you both looked into each others eyes that are filled with love. He the suddenly gave you a kiss making you blush but immediately kiss back.
You two continued dance, happy to in each others arms and having a loving relationship and knowing that you two where always will be inseparable.
<- Back to MasterList or back to Hazbin Hotel
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skz-bee123 · 3 months
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Telling Skz your ex texted you
Stray Kids reaction
A/N: So here's another reaction after a very long time. I hope it tuns out alright, I haven't gone through and edited it so if there's any mistakes, no there isn't. Jisung's one is again quite short, I don't know why this keeps happening to me but I find him very hard to write, hopefully a one-shot of him will make up for that (I've got a few ideas, I just need to write it out first). For Seungmin's part, the ending is a bit iffy but other then that, enjoy!
Word count: 5.2K
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Bang Chan
"Hey babe?" You called out to your boyfriend who was in the kitchen getting himself a drink.
"Yeah?"
"My ex texted me, what should I text back?"
It goes silent for a couple moments before you call out to him again, "Channie?"
Loud footsteps make their way into the lounge and you see Chan, with a look of annoyance on his face as he makes his way over to you.
"What the fuck does he want?" Chan says as he stands in front of you.
"Just wanted to know if we could meet up." You respond.
Chan goes quiet and you wait for him to speak, watching him as you see his brain ticking over.
"He...wants to meet up?" Chan finally speaks.
You nod your head in confirmation.
"Hasn't that dickhead already put your through enough already? Why is he wanting to talk to you again?" Chan sits down next to you and grabs your hand. "I'm not going to be one of those boyfriends that tells you you can't go, because ultimately it's your choice. But...sweetheart...he put you through hell, he doesn't deserve to see you ever again."
Chan sighs before speaking again, "like I said, it's your choice. Either way I support you, I just personally think that you should ignore him, block him, just get rid of him."
You stay silent for a while before your phone dings again. You look down at it before pulling up the contact of your ex. You block him.
"I did it." You finally speak up.
"What did you do?" Chan asks, grabbing your hand.
You give Chan's hand a squeeze, "I blocked him, I don't know why I hadn't in the first place."
"It's alright baby, I get why you couldn't before."
"Yeah...but I've got you now so, I don't need him anymore."
"That's right, you've got me. And I'm not going anywhere."
Lee Minho
You had gotten a text from your ex.
You chewed on your bottom lip, making it raw and hurt as you agonised over what to do.
You knew you should just delete the messages that kept coming in but just couldn't work up the courage to do it.
You and your ex had not ended on good terms, he was borderline abusive and it took you awhile to work up the strength to leave him. When you finally did, you weren't the same person anymore.
You often got scared by loud shouting and raised hands always made you cower. Minho, you boyfriend of 7 months, knew all about this. He knew about the type of person your ex was and helped you break out of your shell again. He helped you become the person you once were before your ex took that away from you.
Despite all of this, Minho has never been a super protective boyfriend. He never really made a move to go out of his way to protect you, he's never actually really had the need to. Until now.
You were starting to feel anxiety making its way through your body, it clung to you in the most uncomfortable ways possible, squeezing the little bit of air out of your body.
You wanted to tell Minho, why? You weren't even sure yourself. To vent? For advice? To get him to deal with your ex? You don't know. All you know is that your shaking hands and fast-racing heart needed to be with him.
You make your way into your room where Minho was laying on your bed, watching his phone.
Minho looks up at your over the top of his phone before he goes back to watching. A few moments go by and you don't move from your spot in the doorway and Minho pauses his phone and places it down beside him, sitting up and looking over at you.
"Y/n-" Minho goes to say but is cut off from your phone ringing.
You look down and see your ex trying to call you. A sniffle escapes from you as tears well up in your eyes.
"I-" You try to get the words out but you're overcome with tears.
Minho stands up from the bed and makes his way over to you, he grabs your hands and pulls you over to the bed, sitting you both down. Minho gently wipes away your tears and looks at you with a concerned look on his face. "What happened?" He asks.
"My ex texted me." You whisper out, looking down at your hands.
A moment of silence passes before Minho speaks, "What did he say."
"That he wants to talk. He wants to meet up with me and apologise for how things were. he wants to see if we can work things out and get back together."
It goes quite between you two and you look up. Minho's face is blank as h stares off to the side, whatever he's thinking or feeling right now, you can't tell.
"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to bother you with this." You mumble out.
Minho's face whips around to face you and he opens his mouth. Before he gets the chance to say something, he is once again cut off by your phone ringing.
You feel even more tears well up in your eyes as you see it's your ex trying to call you again. Before you even get the chance to decline the call, your phone is swiped out of your hands.
You watch as Minho answers the call and places it up towards his ear.
"This isn't Y/n." Minho says. There's a moment of silence before he speaks again. "Her fucking boyfriend dickhead."
You watch as a look of pure anger forms on Minho's face, "now you listen here you fucking piece of shit. You contact my girl one more time and I promise you that I'll find you and make your life a living hell. Do you understand me?"
Minho seems to be satisfied with himself as he ends the call, blocking the number of your ex. He throws your phone over to the side of the bed and runs a hand through his hair before looking at you.
"You're not a bother Y/n."
Hearing this confuses you, "huh?"
"Before that son of a bitch called, you said you didn't want to bother me with this. Y/n, you're not a bother to me."
"I just...I just didn't know what to do. You just never really seem to care about this stuff so I just assumed..." you trail off.
"I don't care?" Minho looks at you with a hurt look on his face, "you really think I don't care about you?"
"NO!" You quickly scramble to explain yourself. "I know you care about me but you just never really seem to care about you know...other guys...and like what sets me off and that. I'm sorry, I don's really know what I'm saying."
"Baby..." Minho starts, bringing his hand up to your face. "I'm sorry I made you feel that way because it's far from true."
"Huh?"
"Before you met the boys, I had a long talk with them. Of course I didn't tell them everything but a few basics. You know how they can get with new people they meet, they're loud and touchy. I didn't want them to overwhelm you so I told them to just watch themselves. Even now, sometimes I know that they can get a bit much so I step in. I step in and make up reasons to excuse us because I know you need to have some space but you're too scared to say anything."
"I'm always watching you baby. Always." Minho continues. "It kills me to know what you went through and i know that although you're doing so much better, somethings things set you back. And that's okay. But I know that these setbacks really affect you, so I watch you. I watch so that if you need me to step in, I will. I always will, baby."
"I'm sorry, I really didn't know." You say.
"It's alright baby. You mean to much to me and it hurts me to know you're upset."
You push Minho down onto his back and lay on top of him, putting your head underneath his head, snuggling into his chest. You feel his arms come up to wrap around you protectively as Minho places a kiss on the top of your head.
"I love you Min." You whisper out as your eyes fall close, exhausted from today's events.
"I love you too baby, so much more than you'll ever know."
Seo Changbin
It first happened when you were getting ready to go out for breakfast with your boyfriend, Changbin. You had just finished putting your coat on and was waiting for Changbin to come out of the bathroom so that you both could leave when you got the text.
At first you didn't quite know who it was from, simply thinking it was from a wrong number, so you just brushed it off, not giving it a second thought.
The second time it happened, you and Changbin were walking back from breakfast. It was this time that it clicked to you who exactly was texting you. Blocking the number, you thought that that would be it. Of course though, you were wrong.
All throughout the day you had been receiving text messages from you ex, some pleading for you to take him back, others threatening you for leaving. It left you with an uncomfortable feeling inside of you and you were not quite yourself.
You thought you had been quite good at keeping it to yourself, but your boyfriend, who had noticed right away that something was up, thought that you would come to him when or if you needed too.
But after going to entire day with you looking over your shoulder, Changbin was currently very worried. Worried enough that he decided that if you weren't going to say anything to him, he was going to have to make the first move.
You both were currently sitting down on a park bench, just watching the scenery, it was just reaching sunset.
"Baby?" Changbin calls out to you.
"Yeah?" You turn towards Changbin with a smile on your face.
"Something's been bothering you all day and I've been waiting for you to come to me about it but you haven't. I just don't like seeing you so uncomfortable."
"Nothing's wrong."
"You've been constantly checking your phone and looking over your shoulder, I'm worried baby."
You start to chew your bottom lip and Changbin notices this, he reaches a hand up and gently pulls your lip out from your teeth with his thumb. "None of that love, you'll just hurt yourself. Tell me what's wrong?"
You open your mouth to say something but suddenly your eyes widen as you look over Changbin's shoulder and you're squeezing his hand. Changbin looks over his shoulder and watches a man walk towards you both.
Not quite recognising him but at the same time feeling that this man is somehow familiar to him, Changbin still protectively moves in front of you and watches as the man stops in front of the both of your. He completely disregards Changbin and speak to you.
"Babe, I've been texting you all day. How come you haven't been texting me back huh?" The man speaks.
Changbin turns towards you and all he sees is fear written all over your face and that's enough for him to feel an immense amount of anger well up inside of him.
The man steps forward and reaches out to grab your hand but before he gets the chance Changbin grabs his wrist.
"I don't know who you think you are. But she is not your 'babe'. Changbin speaks with venom in his words and pushes the man's hand away.
The man turns towards Changbin with annoyance, lacing his voice as he speaks. "And who are you?"
"Not that it's any of your business, but I'm Y/n's boyfriend. And you are?"
"Whatever, Y/n babe. Comeback to me, yeah? We can talk about it." The man, who Changbin now recognises as your ex, takes a step towards you and at this Changbin stands up, shoving the man away.
"You take one step closer to her and I swear to God you're going to regret it. Leave and don't contact her again, do you understand?" Despite being shorter than your ex, Changbin was bigger.
"I said. Do. You. Understand?" Changbin says putting emphasis on each individual word.
Your ex nods his head before turning away and walking off. It isn't until your ex is completely out of sight that Changbin sits back down and turns towards you. Noticing the silent tears rolling down your face, Changbin pulls you into a hug.
"We don't need to talk about it now. But I think we need to have a talk later, yeah?" Changbin mumbles into your hair.
You pull away from Changbin and start to apologise. "I'm-" but before you could even finish your sentence you're cut off by Changbin.
No, none of that. Let's just go back home, make some hot chocolate and cuddle while we watch movies, okay?"
You nod your head at him and he stands up, gently pulling you up with him. "I love you."
"I love you too."
Hwang Hyunjin
"Jinnie?"
You wait for an answer only to receive none. You sigh and make your way over to the bed where your boyfriend was wrapped up in the blankets.
"Jin?"
You see Hyunjin's eyes look at you before he turns around so his back is facing you. You sit down on the bed next to him and tug at the blankets. You feel a smile form on your face as you feel Hyunjin tug the blankets back from you.
"Baby."
"Oh am I still your baby huh? I thought you had replaced me." As Hyunjin says this he turns to look at you. Noticing the big smilie on your face he just pouts. "And now you're laughing at me."
You flop onto him, wrapping your arms and legs around Hyunjin. "I'm not laughing."
"On the inside you definitely are."
"Okay maybe that's true but it's only because you're so cute."
Hyunjin narrows his eyes at you suspiciously.
"Baby, you know that I love you right
and that me texting my ex, who I am completely over by the way, would never change that? Beside you, my love, are a lot more handsome.” 
Hyunjin sighs and a smile finally makes its way onto his face. “I know. But it definitely doesn’t pain me to hear it again from you.” 
You roll your eyes at him painfully. “Well if that’s what it takes to stop you from your dramatics, that I’ll tell you over and over again.” 
“Dramatics?” Hyunjin looks at you offended. “I am NOT dramatic.” 
“Jinnie, you are the definition of dramatic.” 
“You know what? For that, I’m not speaking to you again.” Hyunjin gently pushes you off him and rolls over so he’s facing away from you as your laughter sounds around the room.
Han Jisung
“You’ve been staring at your phone for a while, is everything alright?” 
You turn to look up at Jisung who had asked you that question, you smile at him softly before replying, “Yeah, Minjun texted me.” 
“Minjun, your ex?”
You nod your head before looking back down at your phone, replying to a text Minjun sent you. 
Some time passes and you’ve noticed that Jisung has been really quiet, you look up at him to see him staring off, a spaced out look on his face. 
“Ji?” You gently call out for Jisung. 
Jisung snaps out of the daze he was in and looks at you, “Yeah?” 
You move closer to where Jisung is sitting and grab his hand, rubbing your thumb over his. “You were staring into nothing, just wanting to make sure you were okay.” 
“You…your ex.” Jisung mumbles.
“What about him?” 
“How come you’re talking to him?” 
“Oh, you know how he ended up dating one of my friends after we broke up?” 
Jisung nods his head. 
“Well he wants to propose to her, just asking me for some advice on how to go about it.” 
“Oh.” You see Jisung visibly relax and you place your head on his shoulder, snuggling into him. 
“You don’t have to worry Ji, I would never leave you.” 
“I know, I guess I just got into my head a bit is all.” 
With the hand that’s holding Jisung’s, you bring it up to your lips, and place a kiss on his hand. “I know my love, that’s why I’m always here to bring you out of it when you get too far.”
You feel a kiss being placed on the top of your head as Jisung mumbles, ‘I love you’ into your hair. 
Lee Felix
You and your ex ended your relationship on good terms. At the time you both just realised that you weren’t right for each other and agreed that maybe being a couple just wasn’t good for you both.
Your ex ended up getting a promotion at work and had to go overseas for some time. You were extremely happy for him but ended up losing contact.
That’s why when your ex texted you out of the blue, you were surprised yes, but also happy. 
“What’s got you all happy, my love?” 
You looked over at Felix who walked into the living room where you were sitting on the couch. 
“Do you remember Minjun?”
This causes Felix to stop in his tracks. “Like..your ex Minjun?” 
You nod your head, “Mhm.”
“Yeah I do. What about him?” 
“He’s back in Seoul and asked if we could meet up.” 
“Oh.” 
You look up from your phone then and over to Felix.
“Lix.” You call out softly. “Are you okay?” 
“Yeah, yeah I’m fine.” Felix smiles at you, although you could tell it was forced. “Are you gonna…meet up with him?” 
“Probably, it would be nice to see how he’s doing.”
“Oh..that’s-that’s good then.” 
A bit confused, you slowly nod your head. “Uh yeah, it is. Are you sure everything is alright?” 
“Yeah, everything’s fine, really.” 
You stare at Felix for a moment before continuing on. “Well, Minjun is officially back to live in Seoul now. He’s worked his way up and is now extending his branch more.” 
“You certainly know a lot about Minjun.” 
“We’ve just been texting, trying to find time to catch up.” 
Felix goes really quiet then. You could tell something was bothering him but he just wouldn’t admit it. Getting a bit worried you sit closer to Felix and grab his hands. 
“Lix..what’s wrong? And don’t say it’s nothing, because it obviously is something.”
Felix doesn’t look at you as he speaks. “You and Minjun.” 
“What about us?” You asked, slightly confused.
“You both were very close.”
“We were.”
“And he’s a very handsome guy who is back and wants to meet up with you.” 
It suddenly clicks in your head what was up with Felix. Reaching over, you gently grab Felix’s face in your hands and turn his face to look at yours. “Lixie.” 
“Yeah?”
“I love you so much.” 
Felix eyes widen as you say those words, neither of you had spoken them outloud before, so this moment meant a lot. “You love me?” 
“I do.” You nod your head. “Very much, and some silly old ex isn’t going to change that okay?” 
“Even if he’s really handsome.” 
“In my eyes, no one is more handsome than you. And I will fight anyone who says otherwise.” 
Felix lets out a soft laugh, “I love you too.” 
You smile at Felix before leaning in and placing your head on his chest, closing your eyes. You feel Felix run his fingers through your hair as you feel him relax underneath you. 
“Don’t overthink it okay? I love you a lot and that won’t ever change.” You say, your words muffled from your face being stuffed in Felix’s chest. 
“I know my love and I love you a lot too.” Felix says before closing his eyes and falling asleep with you held tightly to his chest. 
Kim Seungmin
You and Seugmin were just chilling on your couch. He for once had a few days off and chose to spend it with you. It was silent between both you had, had been for the past couple of hours until you broke the silence.
You had been debating with yourself whether or not you should speak to Seungmin about this, but seeing as he was your boyfriend, you decided that you should. It would honestly make you feel better if you did. 
“Hey Minnie?” You finally speak up.
Seungmin just hums not looking up from his phone but letting you know that you had his attention. 
“My um…my ex texted me.” 
“Nice try Y/n.” 
You look at Seungmin confused. “Huh?” 
Seungmin, still not looking at you, answers “I’ve seen this over tik tok. I know you’ve been getting me good with your pranks but this time it’s not gonna work babe.” 
You go quiet for a bit, silently cursing yourself for all the pranks you’ve pulled on your boyfriend. But this time, it wasn’t a prank, your ex had actually texted you and it had left you feeling uncomfortable. 
Not quite knowing what to say you just turn into yourself, staring off into space. 
“Y/n?” 
You look over to Seungmin to see him watching you. “Hmm?” 
“Something’s wrong.” Seungmin doesn’t ask, he states.
You don’t say anything and this causes Seungmin to move closer towards you, grabbing your hand. 
“You weren’t pranking me were you?” Seungmin asks. “Your ex actually did text you.” 
You just nod your head and show him the text messages from your phone. You watch as a wave of anger washes over his face before turning towards you, locking your phone and throwing it gently towards the side. 
“I’m sorry.” You blurt. 
“What are you sorry for?” 
“For always pranking you, it’s not..I mean I just…I don’t know. I guess I thought they were funny but…” You say turning your face away from Seungmin but Seungmin’s fingers gently turn your face to look back at him. 
“They are funny. I might not show it, but the joy it gives you when you successfully prank me, makes me happy. And besides, all your pranks are completely harmless.”
“I guess so.” 
You watch as Seungmin sighs before he leans forward and places a small kiss on your forehead, lingering there for a few seconds. “Why don’t you let me deal with this douchebag of an ex and then we can talk about all the pranks I know you have planned for the members, I’m more than willing to be an accomplice.”
“Yeah?” 
“Oh yeah baby, the two of us together? The boys are not gonna know what’s hit them, and let’s just say, it’s gonna be amazing.” 
Yang Jeongin
Your ex texting you had been completely out of the blue. Your relationship had ended because of the fact that he was moving, needing to move countries because of work and you couldn’t because your own responsibilities kept you where you were. 
So your relationship ended on mutual terms. Over time, the two of you did end up losing contact with each other, simply because of time differences and the fact that you had found someone new. 
You had been at the boys practice, having finished work for the day, you decided to drop by and watch them. And although you and Jeongin weren’t heavy on the pda, it was obvious that Jeongin needed you there. Not saying it out loud but sending you a smile and a squeeze to your hand was all it took for you to stay longer than orginially planned. 
It was while the boys were dancing that you recieved the text from your ex. 
The conversation with your ex went as so:
Ex: Hey Y/n, haven't spoken for a long while now. I’m currently back in Seoul and was wondering if you wanted to meet up?”
You: Oh Minjun! How have you been? It’s been what, 3 years since you’ve last been back to Seoul?” 
Ex: Yea, it’s been awhile. But the company has been quite successful and they’ve made a branch here in Seoul, I was made to move with it, and oversee it all.
You: Wow, that’s amazing, I’m proud of you.
Ex: Thanks! So about that catch up? What do you say?
You: Yeah of course! Just let me know what you're free and we can sort something out.
You and your ex organise a time and date to meet, you're so engrossed in the conversation with your ex that you don’t even realise that the boys are on a break and that they’re currently trying to get your attention.
“Y/n!”
Your name being yelled causes you to look up and you notice all the boys, obviously taking a break have sat all around you and are looking at you. 
“Yeah?” You smile at them all before looking over at Jeongin who was calling your name.
“I’ve been trying to get your attention for the past couple of minutes.” Jeongin says. 
“Oh sorry Innie, Minjun texted me and I’ve just been making plans with him.” You respond, grabbing Jeongin’s hand and bringing it onto your lap, showing him the messages between you and your ex. 
“How’s it going so far?” You turn to the boys as Jeongin reads through the messages. 
“It’s going, that’s all I can really say at the moment.” Chan speaks for the rest of the boys who all nod their heads. 
“Well I know you all will get there, I mean, you always do.” 
Jeongin hands you your phone back, not saying anything as you continue to talk with all the boys.
“Ok, I know we all noticed it but I’m gonna be the one to say it.” Jisung says, interrupting the conversation you were having with Felix. 
You turn to Jisung with a raised eyebrow, “noticed what?” 
“Jeongin.” Jisung points towards him. 
“What about him?” You asked confused.
“I’m not the only one right?” Jisung ignores your question and asks his own. 
The other members all nod their heads. You turn to look at Jeongin but don’t notice anything wrong with him. 
“What’s wrong with Jeongin?” You ask again. 
“Ever since you mentioned at Minjeon? Minjin? guy, and then letting Jeongin read the messages the obviously happened between you both, Jeongin’s had his jaw clenched and a far off look on his face.” Seungmin finally answers you. 
“Oh Minjun? He’s my ex, he just texted cause he wants to meet up.” You smile, completely oblivious. 
“Your ex? You ended on good terms then?” Chan asks. 
You nod your head. “Yeah, he had to move countries because of work but I couldn’t leave home because of school and work. So we both decided to break up. He’s currently back in Seoul, for the first time in 3 years, just texted me and asked if we could catch up.” 
“What else did you guys text about?” 
“Oh he just mentioned about going to the cafe where we had our first date, it ended up becoming one we went to all the time.” You smile at the memories. 
“He also called you pretty and that he couldn’t wait to see you in person. Said he missed you a lot.” Jeongin speaks for the first time. 
You turn towards him with a confused look. “He didn’t call me pretty but he did say that he missed me and wanted to catch up.” 
You look at all the other boys and notice them glancing at each other. “I’m sorry, have I done something wrong?” You ask nervously.
“No love, it’s just that, he was your first boyfriend right?” Chan smiles at you. 
You nod your head, “yeah, he was my first and then i’ve been with Jeongin ever since.” 
“Alright well, from what I’m getting here, your ex doesn’t have a new partner?” 
“Not that I know of. But we haven't spoken in a while, so maybe.” 
“Okay, so let’s say he doesn’t, and from the look on Jeongin’s face after he read the messages. Your ex was trying to flirt with you.” 
“What?!” You exclaim in shock. You quickly grab your phone and read through the messages, realising that it did indeed look like your ex was flirting with you. 
“Jeongin I…I’m sorry, I didn’t realise. I wasn’t flirting with him, I promise.” You quickly rush to explain. 
Jeongin doesn’t say anything, just clenches his jaw. With a nudge from Chan, Jeongin speaks. 
“No baby, it’s alright, I know you weren’t flirting with him. I was just jealous I guess.” Jeongin reaches over and brushes some hair away from your face, letting his hand rest on your face. 
You reach a hand up and grab Jeongin’s one that was resting on your face. You smile at him before speaking. “I can cancel my hang out with him if you want?”
“No baby, you don’t have to do that on my terms. I know you were looking forward to catching up with him.”
“Yeah, but you’re obviously uncomfortable about that and I would rather just not go.” 
“Why don’t you just text him and make it clear that you’ve got a boyfriend? You can still go and hang out with him, just as long as he knows you're taken.”
“Taken but the most amazing guy ever.” You grin, a toothy grin at Jeongin.
Jeongin laughs under his breath a little before leaning forward and placing a kiss on your forehead. “I love you," he mumbles into your head.
“I love you too.” 
Plus a little extra of the boys looking at your both with heart eyes. 
“Omg they’re so cute.” 
“I know right, like can you believe we raised him to be like this.” 
“Yeah and Y/n, what a cutie.”
“Ahh I just wanna squeeze their cheeks.” 
A slapping sound can be heard as Minho looks down at Felix, Jisung, Hyunjin and Changbin who were fangirling over the two of you. 
“They're obviously having a moment, leave them alone.” Chan says. 
“Exactly, Jeongin’s very private when it comes to his relationship with Y/n, let’s just leave them alone.” Seungmin says. 
“Awww, but they’re just so cute.” Felix whines. 
“Yeah! Even you all must admit that this is just so heartwarming to watch.” Jisung says. 
“Maybe it is, but let’s leave them to it alright boys.” Chan says as he rounds the pouting boys up and walks them out the door. 
As all the boys leave, Chan and Minho linger in the door, a soft smile on both their faces. 
“They are really cute though.” Chan says to Minho. “Makes me want to wrap them up and protect them both from the world.” 
“I know how you feel, come on your old man, let’s get these kids some food. Then we’ll bring some back for the two lovebirds.” Minho says with a small smile on his face as both he and Chan leave both you and Jeongin in the dance practice room to spend some time together. 
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gremlingottoosilly · 3 months
Text
Nature vs Nurture (monster!Konig x fem!Reader)
The new world order - monsters on top, creating the perfect dystopia for humans. You are nothing but a pet to them, a breeding mare for their perverse desires…and now you've finally been claimed by their colonel. Good luck.
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Tags and TW: Dub-con, monster fucking, size kink, power imbalance, dumbification, pet play, dystopia, obsessive Konig, tentacle monster Konig, oviposition, breeding. AO3
It was supposed to be a supply run. Fast, quick, stealthy. In and out, the ruins of the abandoned store not so far from your hiding spot. Whatever you could find, some canned food – maybe, but not realistically. Some rubble and garbage that could be exchanged for food for triple the price it was – possible. Realistic. 
It was supposed to be a quick supply run. Like a rabbit out of her hole – but not really a rabbit, not even having the courtesy of strong legs and long ears that could spot anyone from a mile away. No, of course not – the universe wasn’t feeling particularly merciful when you were born a human in the age before monsters decided they didn’t want to be servants anymore. You think you remember going to the store like a normal person. Picking up a cart, hauling anything you could afford – not bothering about a lot of things. 
There are still stores, you think. Remesances of capitalism, working only for monsters – whatever crude economy they were building, it stayed in the cities. In the military bases, were filled with monsters even before the uprising. Not here, in the wasteland – it belongs to humans, as little as there were left. 
It was supposed to be a quick supply run for you and your friends – but you were dumb, but you were careless, but you grew accustomed to being the only one here, you didn’t even spot a patrol. Nasty fuckers, getting humans off the abandoned streets – you tried to fight and it didn’t work. Tried to run, and they were faster. Always faster. You should have been quicker, you shouldn’t have been a human – but you are, your soft self still not hardened by the life on the run, so you weren’t put out of your misery as you saw some other humans who got caught. Monsters took pity on you – or, perhaps, your submissiveness finally paid off. You were shown off the corner of a store – a human store, as you read, the words burning in your mind. You heard the stories about humans – attractive, soft people, mostly weak and obedient – who were snatched off the streets to do god knows what. Monsters can’t breed on their own, you remembered. 
You can hear the voices coming somewhere in the hallway, a good few meters away from your cage. You force yourself to stay as far from the bars as possible, not wanting to attract attention. Not even want to bother yourself with trying to see what your captors look like – monsters can take on human appearance and you’d rather live without seeing a human pet trader looking like someone who could have been your neighbor before the uprising. You curl in a ball, hugging your knees. Sobbing softly, quietly – knowing that there is no way out of here now. Not even other humans would help you now. “Just got new batch, colonel. Doesn’t look like a resistance member” “Ja, I heard that the last time. Schlampe killed all the hatchlings the second they were born.” “W…we didn’t know, sir! I promise, it was a…” “You can’t even breed them properly. There wasn’t any new humans in months, wolf” “Humans are…delicate, sir. They don’t want to breed in captivity.” “Make them then.” You hear something heavy shuffling around. You hear heavy footsteps that are making the flimsy flor of your cage shake. Even monsters have their disputes – but you can’t bother with caring when you hear footsteps approaching. Large shadow casting down on you. Making you feel even more small and miserable than you did before. Your head hurts. Your stomach hurts. Your everything hurts. 
Someone is staring at you. You see…someone. Humanoid silhouette – too big to belong to a human, at least 7 feet tall and broader than the entirety of your cage. You whimper when the creature tilts its head to the side, a surprisingly boyish tone of his voice grasping on your panicking mind. It isn’t the one that captured you but, for some reason, you can sense that he is even more dangerous. There is something on his uniform – some decorations, you think. Soldiers from the age before the uprising are all have quite high ranks in the new society – if they are monsters, that is. Large, droopy red tentacle falls from the guy’s hood. Definitely a monster. 
— Come closer, human. You whimper, trying to get up – only to get as far away from him as possible. You’re terrified, but he only hums in acknowledgment. A group of tentacles rising from under his hood, pushing you towards him through the bars. You were never more thankful for being locked away. 
— Disobedient. Or just dumb? 
— I d…don’t…
You cry, not wanting to give an answer – too disoriented, your nostrils are filled with the smell of sea and blood. You feel light-headed, dizzy, you’re hungry and dehydrated and you don’t know how could you even proceed to resist when one of his tentacles goes through the bars of your cage. Caresses your face, surprisingly gentle. Smearing cold slime around your skin, but even this is a welcoming feeling – you’d take everything that isn’t damp air of the human compound and the old sweat tattering your skin. You’d give anything for a bath right now. At least a few wet wipes, to wash the grime off your face – to stop feeling like an animal even though you know you’re already been reduced to one. — Just dumb, then. Gut. Monster caresses your face for a while, admiring your features. Salty tears feel like heaven on his tentacles – you can’t possibly see him, but he is grinning under that weird hood of his, adoring how obedient you are. It might be just exhaustion, but he missed humans like this – broken and abandoned. Soft and adorable, crying at the brim of a hat. König is going to have a lot of fun breaking you in – you couldn’t possibly be worse than the last wife he took. He wants to see you round and filled with his eggs. He wants you to see you cry for his cock, begging him to fill you up like the dumb, pathetic human you are. He wants to lay in the nest with you, pressing his body against yours – stealing the coolness of your body, covering you with his tentacles like a perfect chewing toy. He wants to… — Ah, sir. This is the new one. Just took her yesterday. 
A merchant smiles, slimy face spreading in a wide grin. Tentacles retreat from your face and shoulders immediately, only leaving a small trace of liquid over your features. If you were dumb enough, you could have sworn the monster was affectionate – but you don’t want to be dumb. Can’t survive in this world only on silliness, unfortunately. — I will take this one. — B…but it isn’t properly domesticated yet! You know how wild strays can be, colonel… — I thought you said all pets were properly obedient? 
— W…well, of course, sir, but… — I don’t need a trained slut to carry my eggs. This one would do nicely. Consider this your sacrifice to the order, ja? Before you know it, the merchant showed you in the hands of a giant man. Colonel, as you heard – not knowing proper military ranks, you wonder how high it can be. Or low. Monsters only value power and personal strength – and the merchant was fucking terrified of the tentacle creature who was holding you right now. Perhaps, you should have tried your chances of running away and being killed. Perhaps, you should have slowly died of hunger instead of coming out for supplies. `You’re held high in the air – too high for your liking. The monster presses you against his chest like he expects you to run away any second now – and you want to, really, nothing you’d love more but to simply jump off and run for the hills. But you’re too exhausted, the hunger sitting deep in your empty stomach makes you think that, maybe, for whatever reason this monster bought you for, he’d at least feed you. Maybe turn you into a pet – this is why there are stores for captured humans, right? Humans were treating their pets nicely, maybe the monster wouldn’t be too far off. Tentacles are swirling around your legs, around your hands �� now you can’t even move your neck properly, cheek squished against a warm chest. This monster is a weird one – it’s like he can’t stop his tentacles from touching you, the cold tips of his tendrils spreading slime on the dryness of your skin. His body is warmer than any human would be, and his tentacles are cold – the contrast against your naked skin, barely covered by your torn clothes, is making you crazy. Making you think about weird things – like the monster reproduction again. Like your empty tummy, like the friends you left at the compound when you were supposed to go for supplies. Not getting captured by one of the monster higher-ups.
— You’re soft for a human. You weren’t even sure he was talking to you at first. You’ve been walking for a couple of minutes before you could finally hear some traces of civilization. Roaring vehicles. Gunfire. Laugh and groans – moans, too, to your surprise, not all of them very pain-induced. Your face is still pressed in his chest, you can’t see anything meaningful – but he stops in some corner, you think, covering you in his arms like a package he needed to deliver. You aren’t sure if you remember what the word “package” means. Something naughty, you think. — Quiet, too. 
You still don’t answer, and he hums. Pushes you on the ground, suddenly – you fall on your ass, yelping in pain and surprise as you lay on something softer than a concrete floor. It’s a pile of mattresses, you realize. You’re in a room, you realize – still too dizzy after everything that’s happened, you didn’t even notice when he entered the building and pushed you away from the sounds of life you wanted to hear so much of. You’re sitting on your ass on the pile of soft, rotten mattresses – a faint smell of decay builds up in your nose, but you can’t even concentrate. The tentacles are spreading your legs suddenly – you cry and whimper, your walls breaking down to reveal a soft center because the monster tears away your pants with ease. Your clothes weren’t much, to begin with, dirty and torn after the capture – still, you don’t want to be naked in front of him. You don’t want to be naked in front of anyone. 
— Spread your legs, human. You don’t want to, but you obey – you don’t wish to give him an opportunity to pry your legs open, to use force and make your life even more miserable. You know that being so obedient is kind of pathetic but, honestly, you couldn’t care less at this point. If being pathetic would save you from a broken leg, you will spread yourself open. Place each ankle on the side of the rotten mattress, not even caring that the thing fabric of your clothes – whatever little is left there – is slowly whiskered away by the tentacles. His hands are worse, somehow. He pushes your legs a bit wider, making you hiss from the stretch – and then he tears off your underwear. Not even letting you a chance to save your dignity – before you could cover yourself with your hands, at least, he is already launched at your cunt, smaller tendrils swirling around your core. You’re dry, obviously – and the monster tilts his head to the side. Acknowledging. Looking. He isn’t soft in his movements and the prying attention makes you embarrassed – if your legs weren’t in hid hold already, you’d try to close them. To save yourself. His motives are obvious, his intentions are clear – still, you sob and whine i his hold when his hand slowly presses on the button of your clit. The colonel – you try to remember this, it’s probably important –  is somewhat slow – he pushes your inner lips, spreads your hole as much as you can with a meager amount of fluid from the slime of his tendrils and, somehow, you find yourself getting aroused. Maybe, it’s his attention – he isn’t laying his eyes off you, and it almost makes you blush too much. He is adorable in this way if a monster of his regard can even be called this – and you’re freaking terrified when he goes closer, looks at you even more. 
His hand is making squelching sounds as your cunt becomes wetter by the second – it’s the first time in forever you had this kind of attention, and surviving the monster revolution didn’t exactly help with getting the edge off. You’re desperate for anyone to touch you – and the monster has beautiful hands. Big and burly, with tendrils sometimes running around to add even more lube – you know you’d never get anything like this with a normal human. — Need to check you first, Maus. The merchant keeps sending me infertile ones. You don’t know what he is talking about – but his hand lays flat on your tummy, putting you in place, and the larger tentacle – big, slimy one, with uneven structure with little bumps that made you wonder how it’s even going to fit inside – slowly creps to your sloppy, wet opening. It doesn’t hurt, you’re wet and open – something in the lube he extracted made you dizzy, dumb, you don’t even know when you spread your legs a bit more and welcomed the intrusion. It feels right, it feels wrong, it feels like the thing to die for – it feels like something that could kill you. He laughs and it sends slow rumbles right to the tendril penetrating your pussy. The pressure on your clit is too much – and your brain is to foggy to think that it reminds you more of a medical exam than actual sex. The tentacle inside is vibrating, twisting and turning, pressing on your cervix – it should feel painful, it can’t be this good but, somehow, you welcome the feeling of being this fucking full. You don’t buck your hips, but you cry and moan – and it’s enough of an indication of your pleasure. Monster laughs, his other hand goes to lay on your face – a surprisingly gentle gesture. Short-lived, but you could still feel the warmness lingering on your tattered skin. It’s hot and cold with him – you aren’t sure what comes next, but the tendrils are sliding in and out, probing at the entrance of your womb and, despite everything, you feel the knot in your stomach untying. The orgasm is a quiet one – build up is slow and small, and it doesn’t make you black out – but you whimper nonetheless, the tight embrace of his hands on your body feeling more like a cage than a normal hug. He is too powerful, probably not sure about his strength – you feel him squishing you like a fruit. The slime is leaking from your empty pussy, clenching around nothing. — Obedient. You’d be a good vessel for my eggs, human. You whine, turning away from him. He chuckles, pressing you in his arms again. Like a child with his favorite new toy – you feel squeezed and touched in various places, his tentacles having a mind on their own. Not an inch of flesh getting ungroped. — Ar…are you going to kill me? — Ach. You can talk after all. — Are you going to… — No. Have a much better way to use you. He chuckles in your hair, pressing his face in it. Inhales the scent – if he has nose, of course. This stupid hood conceals everything, not letting you know anything besides his rank. Which makes you think about…
— What is your name? 
A stupid question, really. You shouldn’t care about the name of a monster who bought you – still, you don’t want to refer to him as just “a monster”. This dumb part of your brain wants closure. — König. Remember it, little human. Oh. So his name is König. Somehow, it doesn’t make you feel any better. 
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angelltheninth · 10 months
Note
Spider-verse ask
The spiders picking up a call from HQ while in the middle of sex. Who plays it cool so nobody knows or who is obvious and gets called out or possibly something in between. Possibly a fem!reader or fun!reader
The interruptions lmao, always a good trope.
Pairing: Peter B. Parker, Miguel O'Hara, Noir x Fem!Reader
Tags: nsfw, smut, interrupted sex, dick riding, phone calls, embarrassment, table sex, quickie, creampie
A/N: Including Noir cause he was my favorite in the first movie.
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Peter was thrusting hard from below you, you in his lap on a chair, about to come when the phone rang. He groaned as he reached over almost absentmindedly and gave you an apologetic smile. While he tries to reply very calmly you keep rolling your hips slowly in his lap, making him grunt at every other word, a wicked grin on your face all the while. He doesn't get caught because he uses the excuse of being really tired from superhero work and being a dad. And probably becoming a dad again if you keep riding him like that.
"Shh, calm down beautiful. I'll keep going as soon as I take the call. H-H-Hey! Oh uh... no its nothing! Stop, fuck. Mmmn. You little brat, making me sound like that, you need my cum that bad huh? Can't wait a few minutes, can't go without my cock making you pregnant."
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Miguel has you spread out on his desk, legs locked around his hips, his claws and teeth leaving possessive marks on your smaller body while he finishes inside you again. You were just about to as well when the phone rang. Now he is not a selfish lover, he won't stop just for this, he'll get you there but you have to be quiet. Can't do it by yourself? Then suck on his fingers, bite them, bite his hand if you have to, but keep looking his way, at his cocky smirk as tears of pleasure well up in your eyes and you come while he's talking on the phone.
"That was close, almost got caught. Yeah, I think they know we were up to something in here but I was not gonna let this wonderful cunt of yours down, not when its worked so hard for me. We should clean up before they look for us though. C-Condoms? You want me to wear them? Ugh, but I like feel you. Okay, fine. But you owe me after. Whatever you want to do."
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Noir is very careful when the two of you sneak off for a quickie. He barely gets the clothes off enough and you're already on him, his gloved hands grasping your thighs and pushing you against the wall. Who ever chose that time to call him has horrible timing and was he not such a good detective he would have hung up. Lucky for him he's very good at keeping quiet and keeping you quiet too, every time you moan he kisses you to silence it, pretending to ponder what's being asked of him. The moment the call ends he speeds up, he needs to make this fast, this was supposed to be fast, now he's been thrown off and he's a little upset actually.
"Apologies for that interruption darling, I'll make this quick. You are not helping by tightening up like that, I know you want my cum but... Damn, I really cannot hold back any longer, I'll make you come sweetheart, yes, come for me, let me get what I want, and then I'll give you so much it will leave a trail as you walk."
3K notes · View notes
sixosix · 4 months
Text
STAY, TOO | AETHER
desc you were afraid that aether would break your heart, but that all flew out the window the moment he got sick and demanded only you take care of him
notes wc 2.8k, FLUFF FLUFF bit of angst with reader’s mindset but happy ending i swear on my asia server genshin acc + this draft had been in my docs since 10/15/2023. its a miracle that i decided to pick up on it again and actually finish it !!!!!!! enjoy fellow aether kissers
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Evenings were always eerily silent; because of that, your thoughts were loud. Not in the way that screamed—no, it was much worse. It was his voice that whispered, that made you shiver and reach out for something that never existed. 
You didn’t know if you were dreaming or if you were awake and letting your mind wander away to a familiar face. Your mind always ended up back to him, no matter how much you tried to stray away. No matter who you talked to, he haunted you. Who you kissed, his face flashed in your mind. You wanted to curse his name out—it was his fault you were like this. It was his fault for deciding to come into this world and rid yourself of your defenses, left helpless to his whims.
“Um, Y/N?” A hand moved to your shoulder.
You jumped out of your seat, heart racing as his grinning face dissipated from your mind. You turned and breathed a sigh of relief. “What are you doing here, Sucrose?”
“It’s past midnight,” Sucrose murmured, her expression nervous, but apparently, she was too worried to leave you be. “I saw light from your window and thought you fell asleep…”
You didn’t even know if you were—everything before felt like a distant blur. Your eyes darted back to your desk, and then your face paled at the sight of a grinning face staring back at you. How long had you been mindlessly doodling Aether’s face? You quickly snatched them away from Sucrose’s view.
“I—I’m fine. Sorry, I did fall asleep.”
Sucrose’s bottom lip jutted out. “This has been happening for too long now. You’re not fine.”
What were you supposed to say to that? You were so hopelessly infatuated with someone who was ruining your life and possibly your job with Mr. Albedo. That would be a fast way to get yourself fired.
Sucrose sat on the chair beside you, her expression determined. “We’re friends, aren’t we? Can you at least tell me what’s going on?”
“It’s nothing that serious, Sucrose,” you stammered. Hopefully, the candles were dim enough to hide how flustered you were. It was more embarrassing than serious, really.
“Is it the Traveler?” She knew how to strike hard for someone with such an innocent face.
When had it not been the Traveler, honestly?
“Ugh…” That was a yes for her, apparently.
Sucrose smiled in relief. Her eyes darted around your face, studying you. “What’s wrong? Was he affecting you that much?”
“Yes. Disturbingly so. Like, seriously, it’s disturbing me.”
Sucrose’s eyes sparkled with wonder. “How?”
“It feels like swallowing a crystalfly whole and feeling it flutter around my stomach whenever I even think of him.”
Sucrose’s face turned serious. “What have you been doing to the crystalfies we’ve been collecting?”
“Never mind,” you muttered. “I’m fine, Sucrose. I promise, okay?”
You weren’t. Sucrose must’ve thought the same, too, because Lisa barged into your office the next day.
“What else are you expecting? For him to notice your wallowing and say something about it?”
Lisa’s sweet, melodious voice sounded torturous now when she was poking at all the things you were desperately trying to keep hidden. You sink against your seat, feeling a lot like a scolded kid, caught red-handed skipping chores—skipping responsibilities, hoping to stay oblivious for a bit longer.
“He already said something,” you grumbled, finding it difficult to meet the mage’s sharp eyes.
For someone who sounded as gentle as a mother to her only child, Lisa’s disappointment made you feel a lot more shameful than if she were to chide you in the middle of Mondstadt’s streets.
“A week after we met. He told me he likes me,” you continued.
Lisa’s jaw dropped, a funny expression you’ve never seen on her before. “A week after you met? Let me get this right—”
You groaned, “Lisa, trust me, I know—”
“—Our dear Traveler confessed to you ages ago. When was it when Aether helped us with Stormterror? He’s in Fontaine now!” Lisa looked a little frazzled, her eyes wild. You were expecting her to chide you some more until you saw how her entire expression was sparkling. This felt foreboding, somehow. “He keeps visiting to see you! After all these years of you foolishly rejecting him—”
“I didn’t reject him!”
Lisa hummed thoughtfully. “Oh, but isn’t that exactly what you’re doing?”
You were not rejecting Aether. You didn’t outright tell him you’re not interested because you are. He had been haunting your thoughts since you first laid eyes on him, returning from battle, cold breath billowing from his mouth, a pixie by his side, his hair aglow gold, Festering Desire in hand—and, oh, you desired him. It reached a point where Albedo himself had to ask if you wanted a check-up from how much you were burning with want.
Aether had grinned at you so brightly, and you damn near melted on the spot, even in the unrelentingly bitter weather of Dragonspine.
You found yourself liking him for more than his quite literally alien nature, his out-of-this-world body, and his abilities that had your hands itching to reach for a pen and paper to write down everything about him and figure out what the hell he was. Instead, you started falling for him as just Aether. His boyish smile, his witty jabs, his glimpses of personality.
And then he confessed to you—you, no one but one of Albedo’s assistants—and said he likes you, and you just couldn’t bring yourself to say anything at the time. You thought of him leaving one day, and then you just couldn’t say the yes that was chanting in your brain.
To no one’s surprise, he did leave. Not to that extent yet, but away from Mondsadt. Even in Liyue, Inazuma, Sumeru, and Fontaine, he invaded your thoughts as if cursing you for not saying what you were thinking. You could only wish he thought of you just as much as you did to him. Maybe he’d end up hating you, and not loving him would be easier.
“Are you kidding?” If it were so easy, you would’ve already jumped in his arms and kissed him breathlessly. “He’s—he’s not like us. He doesn’t belong here. He’d leave, eventually. Just like he always does with the other worlds.”
“Is that what’s stopping you?”
“That’s reason enough to be stopping me,” you said sharply. “He’s got millions of worlds to flirt with as he pleases, and this is my only one. Who knows if Aether is the type to even visit?”
Lisa crossed her arms. “Maybe you should ask. Communication is key.”
“Even if that was the case, I can’t handle it. I already miss him enough while he’s still in Teyvat—I don’t know how I could live with myself if I let him into my heart, and he’s a world away.”
“You’ve already let him in your heart,” Lisa said softly. “Just talk to him, alright? I’m not the only one worried about you when you drive yourself to a corner like this—especially over a boy!”
“I’m perfectly alright,” you said, ignoring Lisa’s amused smile. “I’m not losing my mind. Especially over a boy.”
You definitely were losing your mind. That boy was Aether; how could you not?
“I think it’s adorable,” Lisa cooed, cupping her cheeks and sighing dreamily. “He’s still waiting patiently. Who knew the Traveler would be so willing to wait for love?”
You wished that it wasn’t like that.
“Y/N! Are you here?”
Crap. Did you fall asleep in your office again? Might as well stop paying rent if this was going to be a recurring thing.
Once again, by routine at this point, you threw your notes that had Aether’s face inked by the edges. Memory be damned, You couldn’t let anyone see how detailed your drawings of Aether are.
“Y/N?” The voice rang out again, and it sounded more familiar now.
You went to open the door and frowned. “Lisa? It’s so early—did something happen?”
Lisa smiled in greeting, so beautifully devious with what she was about to say: “Our Honorary Knight is back in town!”
“Did you come all the way here just to tell me that?” Were people just seeing you as one of Aether’s admirers?
“Of course not,” Lisa chuckled, patting your head. How did she look so good this early in the morning? “He’s sick and needs someone to look after him.”
You wanted to close the door. You wanted to crawl back to your desk and go to sleep, but she had that look in her eye—one that told you that you had something to do with where she was going. And you did not like where this was going.
“So?” Dammit. You really wanted to see Aether again.
“Why, who else better to take care than his dearest alchemist?”
“Albedo is everyone’s alchemist. Sucrose is everyone’s dearest alchemist.”
Lisa shushed you. Why was she so invested in this? “No, no, his. Not everyone’s.”
You felt your face burn at the thought of being his dearest alchemist. Or anything his. “Absolutely not! Wasn’t he in Fontaine just yesterday?”
“Why don’t you go ask him that yourself?”
You scowled. You weren’t agreeable in the mornings. “How did you even know about this?”
Lisa smirked, poking your nose. “Because he asked for you, specifically.”
You laughed dryly—good one.
“I won’t let you do anything you wouldn’t want,” Lisa said seriously, “but would you change your mind if I told you that it’s Aether that wants you?”
And so you ended up in Aether’s teapot, which was hanging around Jean’s office for safety. Jean only smiled knowingly when you knocked on the door and zipped straight to the teapot. You were only doing this on the off-chance that Lisa was telling the truth and that Aether demanded he didn’t want anyone else but you checking up on him.
His teapot was familiar. You had been here a few times, but you didn’t have your own room. That was too embarrassing to ask, no matter how much Aether suggested it.
“Y/N!” Aether lit up the moment you entered the room.
“Aether,” you greeted, and as much as you wanted to hide it, a smile bloomed on your lips. It was hard not to smile when Aether was looking at you like that.
He looked like a mess, with strands of hair spread all over his pillows. His blanket was only up to his hips, showing that he was out of his usual look, and wore a simple white shirt. You were grateful for that shirt; you didn’t want to end up helping Aether strip because he definitely would have suggested that.
“I’m sick,” Aether whined. “Tend to me.”
You would’ve doubted his fever, but it was worryingly hot when you reached out to check his forehead’s temperature.
Immediately, your suspicions fly out the window. Aether was burning, and you were the only one in the same room (teapot?) who should take care of him. The Honorary Knight was reduced to a fever.
You cupped his cheek and watched as Aether pressed his face closer. “Does your head hurt?”
“Yes.”
You tore your hand off. “I’ll make something to ease the pain.”
“You can ease it right now. By kissing it away.”
“Aether,” you sighed. Unbelievable. How did he still have enough energy for this while positively rotting on his bed? “Take this seriously. I haven’t seen you this sick— Actually, this is the first time I’ve ever seen you sick. How did this even happen?”
“Stayed too long underwater,” he said.
Aether? Getting sick from swimming? You made a face, which Aether laughed softly at.
“No, seriously. It was an emergency commission. Even when I had to resurface, it was pouring. Someone was making the Hydro Dragon cry hard yesterday.” Aether’s face scrunched as he looked up at you with round eyes. “I was so cold.”
Although it sounded absurd that Aether would get a fever from that, you suppose that having to stay drenched for a long time would affect even someone like him. You couldn’t even imagine having to shiver your way back to Mondstadt after being thoroughly drenched the whole day.
You pulled the blanket further up Aether’s chest. Even if you suspected he was lying, he was trembling underneath the covers.
“Alright.” You’ll believe him because right now, it is a fact that Aether is undoubtedly sick.
You were well aware that he was and sounded like he was dying, but he looked cute, flushed, and staring at you expectantly. It felt nice to be needed by someone like him—made him feel less like a faraway dream.
You cleared your throat and looked away; you knew you looked flustered. “Have you eaten yet?”
“Why? Will you cook for me?” he asked.
You knew how to cook, but for someone who had traveled regions and tasted all kinds of foods, you would probably disappoint. Still, it wasn’t time for a competition with other chefs in Liyue or Fontaine. Aether needed food to fill his stomach.
“Any suggestions?” You hoped for nothing unfamiliar and crazy. You loved Aether, but having to fetch ingredients from oceans away was too much.
“Make it with love,” Aether said cheekily because he was a bastard who didn’t have any mercy on your heart.
And so you left the room and ignored Aether, laughing and coughing as he called after you. You had to leave either way—your chest was almost as warm as Aether’s forehead.
You decided to make a Radish Veggie Soup. You hoped Aether wasn’t too picky about his vegetables. The water was comfortably cold, enough to make you search around his cupboards for towels to soak it into. As you waited for the water to boil, you decided to check up on Aether again.
He was still lying there, but with his eyes closed now. You felt terrible seeing someone you witnessed defeat dragons battling a fever. You drew closer and placed the towel on his head. He didn’t flinch at the stark change of temperature, but he did react instantly, his warm hand clasping your wrist.
“Stay,” Aether rasped.
You bit your lip, your heart sinking. Was he dreaming about his sister? You always worried when he was feeling down because of their separation.
But then his eyes opened, and he stared right at you. “Y/N,” he said, “please stay.”
“I can’t.”
“Just this once.” Aether’s voice sounded so quiet, so unsure of himself.
You really couldn’t. You had a Radish Veggie Soup to attend to.
“I’m staying,” Aether said, and you had a feeling he wasn’t talking about the bed. “I’m staying here for you.”
You frowned. “Don’t lie to make me feel better right now. That would hurt more when you have to leave.”
Aether’s face softened impossibly. “I’m not lying. I’m telling you the truth—I’m not leaving Teyvat. Even if I find my sister, I’m staying.”
Seriously? Just like that? “What made you change your mind?”
You couldn’t tell if Aether was blushing or if it was his fever. “How could I leave Teyvat when I see how cute you look taking care of me?”
You threw a pillow to his face.
He swerved away and laughed brightly. “I’m joking! I’m joking—drop that pillow, please. I’m kidding. Well, sort of.”
His face was once again attempted to get assaulted by another pillow. Aether grinned as he blocked it off with an arm.
“For someone so sick, you seem awfully lively,” you said, eyes narrowed in suspicion.
“You breathe life into me; what can I say?”
You groaned. You couldn’t deal with this today—you needed at least three business days to process this and find another reason to reject him. Yet, as you moved to get some fresh air (anything to get Aether’s stupid face out of your view), a hand abruptly reached for your wrist.
Aether’s face was close to yours in a blink of an eye. His breath was hot on your face. “I’m serious,” he said, “so if— if you feel the same way, the least you can do is stay, too.”
“I— You—” You gaped at him. That sounded like it could be a proposal. Who would’ve thought—the Outlander, the Traveler, begging for you to stay?
Aether’s gaze flicked to your lips.
“Don’t kiss me,” you said in warning. “Are you an idiot? You’re sick!”
“That’s fine. I get to take care of you when you do,” Aether said.
Your face paled. “No! I have a job, Aether—”
Aether frowned. “And I have a world to save, but that can wait. We’re busy.”
You pushed his face away, his laugh smothered by your palm. “No, we are not. I’m busy making food for your sorry ass, away from you.”
Aether’s face crumpled. “Do you actually not want to kiss?”
Not when he’s sick and snotty, yeah.
Instead, you leaned in to kiss his forehead to make up for it. It was brief and faint, but Aether looked satisfied, smiling softly when you pulled away. It would do for now.
“I’m staying,” you said. “So long as you do, too. I’ll stay with you.”
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THE SOUP TURNED OUT OKAY STILL. this is just how my mom takes care of me when im sick LOL but the idea of doing it to a sick aether was too good i had to write a fic about it. also i love angst about aether being the traveler aaghgh
thank u sm for reading. as always, lmk what u think and i hope u liked it!! <3
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ponderingmoonlight · 5 months
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gojo x wife! y/n where megumi slips up and calls y/n mom since she helped raise him and gojo starts thinking about how they would be as parents?
Got ya! Love this request, hope you enjoy <3
Megumi accidentally calling Satoru's wife "mum"
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Pairing: Gojo x wife!reader
Word Count: 1,4k
Synopsis: basically the request above lol
Warnings: this is pure fluff so enjoy, wrote this on my way to Disneyland so look over any spelling mistakes lol
Tags:  @arehzhera @ploylulla @tzubaki @beatrexworld @kenstarsworld @dazaisdick @hellkaiserinphoenix  @lauv4chuuya @shadowfoxey @starlightanyaaa @sindela @kayleegomez @sunshine7queen @magalimachete @mokoartpost @gatitam @idontknow1123 @creative1writings @sanicsmut  @mynahx3 @sad-darksoul
Megumi always admired your tenderness. Since the day he met you when he was just a kid, you have grown on him like no one else. It seemed like you genuinely cared about him and his sister throughout this entire time, standing up for him when needed while leaving him for rest when he wasn’t in the mood to talk.
Despite being the longtime girlfriend and now wife of a chaotic person like Gojo Satoru, you never lost your spark, your cool temper, your striking beauty. You are simply always the (y/n) he knows and secretly admires from head to toe. He never truly admitted it, but to him, you are like a mother, one of the most important people in his life, the pivotal point of his decisions.
It shouldn’t have been such a big surprise then when he accidentally called you mom in front of basically everyone.
A brief moment of thoughtlessness in the middle of pure chaos. He didn’t put much thought into his words until they eventually slipped off his tongue with no turning back.
“Can we talk about this later mom?”
Gojo stand right by your side, hand casually placed around your hip like usual when his eyes dart towards Megumi immediately. Did he hear that correctly? Did Megumi-chan just call you “mom”?
“What did you just say, Megumi-chan?”
Fuck fuck fuck. A wave of embarrassment rolls over Megumi immediately, gaze fixed to the ground. He just called you mom. Fuck, he just called you mom! Not only in front of Gojo, but Yuji, Nanami and Nobara. This is bad. Very very bad.
“Megumi…”, you breathe out, tears stinging in your eyes immediately.
While you were always keen to give Megumi the best life possible in this cruel world, you never imagined that he’d see you as someone this important in his life. You it’s not always easy, living with Satoru and you. After all, he is the most chaotic person you know while you are the complete opposite of him. It never seemed as if Megumi enjoyed your company this much. While staying with you more than with Satoru, nothing like that ever slipped off his tongue.
But right now, he called you mom. He really called you mom.
“Sorry”, he mumbles, turning away from your widen eyes.
Fuck, how embarrassing. You must think he’s a total freak for saying something like that. Especially given the fact that you and Satoru don’t have any kids yet. Was has gotten into him?
Nanami’s eyes are darted towards him in silence, Nobara and Yuji giggling to themselves while all Megumi is able to do is hiding his blushing face in his uniform. He needs to get away from here. Fast.
Faster than any of you are able to react, he storms out of the room, leaving especially Satoru and you in pure shock.
“I think he really called you mom, darling”, Satoru breathes out.
You wipe your eyes, tears threatening to fall down your eyes.
“I never thought he’d see me like this. It might seem a little stupid, but…Megumi is like a son to me. To know that he feels the same about me is just…so overwhelming…”
Satoru can’t help but admire you. That little blush that creeps up your face, how you smile into yourself like a little child. All these nights you spent by Megumi’s side, caring for him and his sister when sick, having serious conversations with him when he caused trouble.
It dawns to him. You’d be such a good mom. In fact, this is what you already are to Megumi. All this time, Satoru never thought about having his own kids. Still being young, putting you and potential kids in the risk of this cruel world. But seeing you like this, all flustered by Megumi’s innocent words, totally amazed by the word “mum”. Maybe, just maybe…The thought of a baby in your arms crosses his mind, how you hold its tiny hands while humming it to sleep.
“I will look after him”, you announce, fumbling with your hands nervously while everyone around you just stands there bamboozled.
“Hey”, you greet him gently, sitting down beside him on the bench that overlooks the whole area.
His head rests in his hands, gaze fixed on the ground.
“I didn’t mean to say that”, he begins rapidly.
You bring your legs up, hugging them tightly while smiling down at him.
“I don’t have a problem with that at all. It’s just that…I never thought you’d see me as something other than Satoru Gojo’s wife. But I don’t want to interpret too much into it. After all, it was just a slip of your tongue, right? Just wanted to make sure you don’t feel bad or something. Don’t worry about it.”
With one gentle rub of his back you get back up, ready to leave when he suddenly grabs your hand.
“This wasn’t an accident. I never got to know my biological mum. And since the day I’ve met Satoru and you, you were always something like a mother to me. I really admire and appreciate you, (y/n).”
Oh. Your eyes begin to water all over again, you can’t help but swallow him with your arms.
“I feel the same, ‘Gumi”, you matter against the crook of his neck, careful not to touch his hair.
“Now now, what’s going on here? Are you stealing my girlfriend, Megumi-chan?” Satoru’s voice suddenly questions from behind, making Megumi jump out of your grasp in an instant.
“You know you have a real talent for ruining someone’s moment, right?”, you comment dryly.
“See you, Megumi.”
With Satoru’s hand holding onto yours tightly, you wander down the way to Jujutsu High. What a precious boy he is. You couldn’t be prouder of Megumi. And knowing that you had such an effect on him…You feel like crying all over again.
“I hope you told them not to make fun of Megumi for saying that”, you break the silence, earning a little chuckle from Satoru.
“Nanami did that for me, don’t worry. What did you talk about earlier?”
“Just wanted to make sure he isn’t embarrassed and that I know it was just a slip of the tongue. Nothing to put too much thought in. But it seems like he really sees me as something like a…mother figure, I guess.”
“Doesn’t surprise me the slightest.”
Huh? Your eyes dart towards him, feet stopping right in their tracks.
“What are you talking about?”
“Well, when he had to draw something, it was always the dogs, you and him. You holding his hand, you cooking, you kicking someone’s ass. Don’t you remember how everyone always thought you are his mother? All those years he looked up to you. It doesn’t surprise me that he sees you as his mum. But I should have seen it sooner, what a great mother you’d be.”
His explanation makes your heart skip a beat. Over the last years, you never lost a word over something like kids or being parents. After all, your situation was clear: you live in a world full of danger and death. No child should have to deal with this right from the start. But the way he looks at you with a warm smile, hand holding onto yours tightly. Does he mean…?
“I don’t know, Megumi’s words made me think about having our own kids.”
“Our own kids?”
You can’t believe your ears. Even though you never admitted it towards Satoru, the thought of having children definitely fills your heart with nothing but joy. And especially his kids…
“You already have been and would be such a great mother. What do you say, (y/n)? Mind if we try it?”
You aren’t able to answer. Instead, you let yourself fall into his already opened arms, giggling like an idiot. A child with Satoru Gojo, the love of your life. Yeah, this doesn’t sound bad at all. In fact, this sounds like heaven itself.
“I take this as a yes.”
“I’d love that”, you breathe out, pressing your lips against his longingly.
“You’d be such a great dad. I just know it”, you huff against his mouth, heart jumping up and down in joy.
“Even though I told Nobara and Yuji to make at least a little fun of Megumi-chan?”
“YOU DID WHAT?”
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dallaji · 6 months
Text
Hope we make it to the Cloud.
♡ bada lee x idol!reader / NSFW❗
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SUMMARY: Amidst an identity crisis, you try to adequately prepare for your solo comeback. The lyrics have already been perfected, the song recorded and the visuals pinpointed. However, your creative team is not fully convinced by the choreography you came up with. They decide to send over one Bada Lee to help you finetune your jumbled ideas and bring harmony to your vision. You just have one specific request: the routine must include a trampoline.
WORD COUNT: 10k
CW: eventual smut, bada is 100% a giver and not a receiver in this jsyk (but i promise it makes sense in context), hinted voyeurism.
AUTHOR'S NOTE: this was meant to be pure smut but it became much longer than i intended ... oops for that . . . lets just roll with it!!1 also the choreo described is heavily inspired by tinashes bouncin.
- you don't care about those 7k words worth of boring build up? skip to this line: <After ten minutes of complete silence, Bada was the one to speak in a hushed voice: “What happened?”>
————— ୨୧ —————
The first thing you notice is how surprisingly gentle her voice is. 
“I’m Bada, it’s nice to finally meet you.”
Bada Lee stood tall in front of you, clad in an oversized jersey, cargo pants and a cap hugging her forehead in such a way her eyes were entirely obscured from your view. She promptly bowed after she spoke. Unsure where to look, you dropped your gaze and followed suit; vaguely aware of her seniority and bowing deeper.
“It’s nice to meet you too,” You tried to keep your own voice as neutral as possible, but agitation bubbled in your chest as you felt your manager’s prodding, eager eyes behind you. “Thanks for being here.”
Your team was much more excited about this collaboration than you were.
None of the aggravation you felt was Bada’s fault. It had been three weeks of your creative team dismissing every choreo draft you came up with: Three weeks of sleepless nights at the dance studio, tiring out yourself and your background dancers. Three weeks of browsing through videos sent in by other choreographers across the country, attempting to mix bits and pieces together but none of it ever feeling right. Three weeks filled with reminders of a deadline looming over your head. Three weeks of your team letting you know they had little confidence in this comeback. Your last attempt at showing them what you had come up with had ended up in a shouting match. Your manager, who you otherwise got along with just fine, bluntly stated that, perhaps, this concept simply wasn’t something you could pull off.
It had left you feeling betrayed. Your creative team had agreed it was time for you to approach a more mature concept, something that you felt was years overdue. But it seemed their definition of mature and yours were wildly different. You had worked hard on perfecting a set of songs to choose from, but you immediately butted heads with the rest of the team. You wanted to do the bouncy and playful R&B track. Your team wanted the EDM track. Eventually they relented, but now seemed hellbent on making it as difficult as possible for your vision to come to fruition. Putting together the visual board for the concept photos and the eventual music video was a similarly arduous process. You had to meet in the middle and sacrifice a lot of your initial ideas, but that procedure was almost pleasant compared to what you were dealing with in regards to the choreography.
Every idea you put forward was promptly shut down. Too complicated. Too boring. No TikTok challenge potential. Too sexy.
And maybe it was true. Your formations weren’t as clean as the ones thought up by a professional choreographer, but you weren’t really given a chance at all. It wasn’t like you were a bad dancer either. Far from it. You picked up choreos incredibly fast and had always played an active part in brainstorming past routines alongside your background dancers. You had more experience than most of your peers, yet you were treated as if you were still the same teenaged trainee from years ago.
“Is that really how you all feel?” You had whispered after your manager dropped that bombshell, searching for an answer in the facial expressions of your creative team. Most of them were not even willing to meet your eyes. “We just need to be realistic.” Your manager stated matter-of-factly. “That other song is still an opt—” “I am not changing the song.” You cut him off. Momentarily, your manager looked like a fish on dry land, gasping for air. “Sorry.” You added quickly, albeit a bit flustered. “Look,” He sighed, “We can do mature without shocking the nation. Let's keep it mild for now and maybe after two or three more singles, you can go all out.” “I haven’t been 18 in years, you know.” You retorted bitterly. Something inside you understood where he was coming from, but you had been obedient since your debut- how much longer should you wait? You didn’t want to sacrifice any more of your creativity, so many years into your career. You had even seen one of your own concepts go to a labelmate instead, your own team dubbing you too “youthful” to pull it off.  “Okay, how about this,” He began with a frown, “Let us pick one of the choreographers’ drafts for you. You can finetune it with their guidance.”
Their pick had been Bada. You hadn’t even realized she sent in a draft: at one point you were so overwhelmed you just stopped checking your emails. You also hadn’t bothered to watch it before this meeting. You were genuinely too deep in your feelings about that whole ordeal for that. However, now that she was standing in the studio, tall height towering over you, you couldn’t help but feel a little self conscious. 
You had seen Bada around.
After all, she had worked with many of your labelmates before. You had also watched a fair amount of her videos. She was one of the best in the business, and whenever you had downtime to practice freely you scrolled through her routines on Youtube to help stay in shape. As you were facing her, even with half her face hidden, you understood why everyone was so stricken with her. When she had walked into the room she oozed with authority, though not in an obnoxious way.
“Great!” Your manager clapped his hands, effectively breaking your train of thought. “Thank you so much for supporting us, Bada. Shall we jump right in?”
“Sure,” She nodded eagerly, hands wringing together as her body turned towards you. “I kind of wanted to see what you had in mind for this choreo.”
That surprised you, and you were certain your facial expression wasn’t hiding it. Your manager held his breath. “Oh! Well—” You chewed on your lip as you vaguely motioned the corner of the room, trying to find the words. “I wanted to use… I wanted to use a trampoline.”
Bada immediately turned her head to follow your gestures, her eyes landing on the mini trampoline set up in the studio. “A trampoline?” In the background, your manager heaved a sigh.
You purposely ignored him and nodded, slowly: “I can show you, if you want.” You had hoped that sounded more self-assured to her than it did to you.
Bada scratched her chin, still looking off to the trampoline, and then nodded along with you. “I’d love to see it.” 
You felt the tension in your chest ebb away. There was no malice to her tone; she seemed genuinely curious.
Then, Bada turned her head towards your manager, her ponytail falling off her shoulder. “I hope I'm not imposing but, I would like this to be a collaborative effort between the two of us. I think it would take the pressure off if you…?” She trailed off with a kind smile, one impossible to say no to.
As if he got doused with cold water, your manager stood up with an urgency. “Privacy! I can give you two some privacy, no problem!” He fussed around, gathering his things. “Just let me know when we can sit in on the finished product.”
The both of you bowed to him as you bid your farewells, watching him leave the studio with a wave. Once the door shut behind him, you could feel yourself exhale in relief. You knew that if your manager was going to sit in on every practice, he would go out of his way to shut down all of your ideas. Without him around, you had more opportunity to champion your vision- at least, you hoped so.
You craned your neck, looking up at the ceiling, before letting your eyes fall shut with a sigh, almost forgetting there was another person in the room.
“They’ve been on your case, huh?” 
Bada's soft but clear voice broke you out of your spell, and you turned your head to search for a glimpse of eye contact. Tough luck, as her hat was still in place casting a shadow down her face. There was, however, a knowing smirk playing across her features.
“You have no idea.” You muttered honestly. Bada laughed.
“I don’t want to make you dance a routine you don’t fully stand behind. I did mean it when I said I want this to be a collaborative effort.” Bada spoke carefully, but sincerely, her fingers once again intertwining. “I always wanted to work with you, so it’s an honor.” She added.
If you got a penny for every time you were caught off guard today, you could set some humble savings aside for an early retirement.
It is true that you’ve been sought after, but it wasn’t something you had ever internalized. Hearing it come from someone who herself was heavily sought after, made your face heat up.
“T- thank you. It’s an honor to work with you too.”
She bowed her head humbly, glancing over to the corner of the studio again where the trampoline sat, waiting. “Do you feel comfortable showing me what you have been working on?”
You nodded and rushed to the corner to set up your speaker, and then dragged the trampoline to the center of the room. You were oddly aware of your own presence, and almost felt the urge to make yourself smaller as you moved around. In the meantime, Bada was getting comfortable: she had dropped her things on a nearby table and left out a bottle of water. To her it must be a regular working day, but to you this felt scarier than getting up on stage.
Once you stood behind the trampoline, facing the wide stretched mirror filling up one side of the room, you stole a glance at the choreographer who was now crouched on the floor. She had pulled out a small camera and was setting it up on the edge of the table, making sure the lens was focused on your position. Long fingers fiddled with the buttons, and her tongue was prodding the hollow of her cheek. The angle allowed you to finally catch a glimpse of her eyes.
As if on cue, she glanced up at you. Your eyes met in the reflection of the mirror and your heart raced.
She gave you a soft smile and moved to sit cross-legged on the floor, the camera now fully set up. “I usually record everything, so we can watch it back and give feedback.”
Right, of course.
“Yeah, that’s usually how we operate as well.” You spoke timidly, and it was true. Yet something about having her attention on you felt more intimate. Usually there was at least one other person from your creative team looking on as well.
Trying to come across casual, you tied your hair up in a high ponytail. “What do you think of the song?” You asked curiously.
It was now Bada’s turn to be caught off guard. Her smile faltered and she broke the eye contact you had been sharing, clasping her hands together as she spoke. “I like it.” She began. “A lot, actually. It’s why I wanted to play a part in it. There isn’t anyone doing a song like this nowadays.”
Even though her body language was confusing, you couldn’t find any dishonesty in her voice. What she said made you feel relieved, some of your insecurity fading to the background. It’s why I wanted to play a part in it. 
You sent a smile her way even though you weren’t sure she was even looking at you. 
Proving you wrong, she smiled back.
“Alright, so,” You gestured to the trampoline at your feet. “The idea is, the other dancers and I all do the same routine. I'll be front and center. Four or six other dancers dance behind me, with their own trampoline.” You gave the trampoline a light shove with your foot, making sure it would stay in place, and then grabbed your phone. “Then you have an idea.” 
You looked over your shoulder at Bada and gave her an inquisitive thumbs up. “Ready?” You asked.
Bada pressed a button on the camera and mimicked your thumbs up with a smile. “Ready when you are.”
You faced the mirror again and shook your shoulders a bit, forcing your body to loosen up. After twisting your neck a few times, you hit play on your phone, quickly placing it under the trampoline as the familiar synths of the song started blaring from the speakers. You tried to feel the confidence you were usually able to conjure up on stage, closing your eyes and swaying your hips, ponytail moving from side to side. 
As soon as you heard your own voice through the speakers, instrumentals going deeper, you got into position. Your eyes opened up to focus on your own reflection in the mirror as if it was a fan in the crowd watching. Mouthing along to the lyrics, a playful smile on your lips, you hit every move as you had envisioned. Once the chorus came up, you dropped to your knees on the trampoline, grappling the edge as you performed the routine. Pushing back against the springs gave you the velocity to keep your moves fluid, your body twisting and turning, flipping over and hitting the next move. You made sure to move your hips deftly, aware that you had enough curves to allow you to pull it off, and kept your facial expressions in line. It had to look effortless. 
You felt your ponytail swing along with your movements as if it were an extension of you, and sat up on the trampoline. The chorus came to an end and you used your arm strength to twist yourself around fast enough, gracefully falling back on your chest whilst keeping your toes en pointe in your sneakers. The tips of your fingers were touching the floor as your legs crossed, moving to rest your elbow on the edge of the trampoline and resting your chin atop your palm. You lip synced to the final words of the chorus, gaze alluring as you finished the move, and the music stopped.
You slowly sat up straight on the trampoline, crossing your legs, and slid your hand underneath to hit pause on your phone. You looked towards Bada expectantly, but the question got stuck in your throat. She was staring at you, mouth slightly agape, with an unreadable expression. For a split second you were reminded of your trainee days, when you had just finished a routine and were met by your choreographers’ stern faces; they wouldn’t spare you a single compliment, and instead listed off every mistake you had made.
But then, Bada blinked once and then twice, as if in a daze, and let out a soft “woah”. She started applauding you, shaking her head in bafflement. You felt your shoulders drop in relief.
“That was incredible!” The choreographer took off her cap, fixing her bangs before putting it back on. “You came up with this?”
You nodded slowly, the tips of your ears glowing hot. “I used to be a gymnast.”
“I can tell—” Bada spoke bluntly, but then snapped her mouth shut as if she said something wrong. “I mean, that was really good. Every part of your body was in command. Your team didn’t like it?”
“They think it’s too much, compared to my usual routines.” You had the urge to go off on a tangent, but ultimately you didn’t know Bada well enough. Unfortunately, you were naturally quite expressive and the disapproving frown on your face was on clear display.
“Too much? I kind of wanted more, actually.” She laughed softly, looking down to where her legs were crossed. You felt your heart skip a beat and bowed your head in lieu of a thanks. 
Subsequently, the bright green light of the camera caught your attention. It was still recording. 
“Hey, I think the camera is still on.” You spoke before you realized, and hoped it didn’t sound accusatory.
“Huh? Oh!” Her expression was almost akin to a child being caught with a hand in a cookie jar, the way she swiped at the camera to turn it off. “Sorry. Good call.” She mumbled shyly, tucking it behind her. 
You weren’t sure what to say next, still flustered at her lofty praises, but luckily Bada broke the momentary silence.
“I had an idea…” She began, her hand rubbing at her chin pensively. “I don’t know if you’ve had the chance to watch my draft yet?”
You shook your head abashedly. “No, sorry, I honestly didn’t get to it.”
“It’s fine.” Bada waved her hands dismissively. “Maybe instead of doing the trampoline routine in every chorus, we could only do it in the middle? Exactly as it is. I wouldn’t change anything. And then for the other two choruses, we could keep some key moves but keep it on the floor.”
You mulled it over for a second, glancing up at the ceiling contemplatively. Using the trampoline the whole way through was not an option, according to your team. They had felt you were toeing the line with ‘raunchy’ much too closely. Perhaps you could find middle ground this way, while still keeping the part of the routine you felt most proud of. 
“Okay.” You agreed, nodding slowly. “We would need something special for the final chorus, then.”
“I had another idea for that, if you’re fine with it. Would you like to watch my draft with me?”
————— ୨୧ —————
Her draft was good. Really good, actually. 
Bada and you were sitting on the floor next to each other, the taller girl holding her phone out in front of you as the draft played on the screen. You were sitting quite closely together, but not close enough to be touching, a conscious decision on your part. You were a bit too aware of her presence, something about her was heightening your senses in a variety of ways. It wasn’t even as if she was stern or unkind, she just had an aura that intimidated you. At least, that’s what you were telling yourself.
A blonde girl you didn’t recognize was dancing your parts. Six other dancers, one of them being Bada, were in formation behind her performing the choreography perfectly in sync as your song played in the background. While you should really be paying attention to the girl in the center, your eyes couldn’t leave Bada’s figure. In the video she was dressed in loose-fitting cargo pants, just like today, and a crop top. Once again she wore a cap covering half her face, and even a face mask, but her hair hung loose over her shoulders. 
You were always impressed by the small movements she was able to squeeze in, emphasizing certain parts in ways the other dancers weren’t able to. However, it was the final chorus that had your hands turn clammy.
The final chorus was a duet formation. Bada, with a quiet confidence in her step, and the blonde girl moved towards each other in the center of the room. They were effectively dancing for each other, the blonde girl whipping her head back as Bada stared her down, swaying their hips together rhythmically. Their steps were coordinated in such a way they almost mirrored, Bada rolling her body one way and the blonde girl moving the other; but it still felt cohesive. It was an intimate choreo. There were a few split moments of hips grinding against crotches, but it never lasted long enough to be straight up inappropriate. Still, you couldn’t help but realize you would have to practice this routine with Bada as well, and you felt yourself getting hot under the collar.
The choreo ended with the blonde girl giving Bada a playful shove, and the taller girl backed away slowly, a saunter in her step, before moving off the screen along with the other background dancers. The video ended and Bada dropped her phone in her lap, not looking at you.
“That was good.” You were relieved your voice came out evenly, and Bada started nodding in her trademark way, hands clasped together. “The formations were really clean and— I loved the final chorus.” You blurted.
She smirked, head raising and meeting your eyes for the second time today. You were starting to feel eager, greedily watching. 
“I’m glad to hear. We definitely need to finetune the first chorus, line it up with your routine and all that. I really don’t want to lose your input.”
“That sounds great, thank you.” You felt a surge of gratitude in your chest, and shot her a wide smile. “I’m looking forward to working on this together.”
Bada dropped her gaze again, worrying her lower lip. You felt miffed at the brusque interruption of your shared eye contact but didn't show it. 
“I suggest we start with practices tomorrow, we will edit the first chorus as we go,” She whipped out her phone, looking at her calendar. “We should practice the duet together until you’ve got a handle on it, and then I can bring over some of my guys to prep for the actual performances. I know someone for my part. He’s worked with some of your labelmates before, I’m confident he’s right for the job.” 
You couldn’t tell if you were anxious at the prospect of practicing such a choreo with Bada, or if you were disappointed that the eventual product wouldn’t be performed with her. It made sense, though. If your label was already worried your concept was too mature for the country, having two women perform such a choreography wouldn’t be received well at all. 
“Great. Same time tomorrow, just the two of us again?” 
“Same time tomorrow,” The third time she was willing to meet your eyes, and once again with a small smile playing across her features. “Just the two of us.”
————— ୨୧ —————
Working with Bada the past few days has been surprisingly easy. 
On the first day, she brought some iced coffee for the both of you and presented it with an exaggeratedly deep bow, holding out the plastic takeout bag in front of her as if she was a lackey presenting you a treasure. You giggled, muttering an incredulous “thank you” as you took the bag from her hands. Through sips of coffee, the both of you fast forwarded through the recordings trying to piece the choreography together. You were able to bounce ideas off of her in a way you never felt comfortable enough doing with other choreographers. Bada was attentive, patient and, above all, eager. 
On the second day, you wanted to repay your debt and entered the studio with a box of doughnuts. She let out a surprisingly girlish squeak when you laid the box on the table, and barreled over to grab one. That day she was wearing a beanie instead of a cap, something you inadvertently preferred as you could now lock eyes and take in her features. Sometimes you had the impression she was hellbent on looking anywhere except into your eyes, but you didn’t want to mull it over for too long; some people just had a different way of interacting. Everything else about her still left you with a warm feeling.
Sometimes you both took turns performing for each other. She would pull her beanie further down her head as she took the center of the studio, and each time something inside you would brace itself. You could only watch in awe: her movements were sharp and magnetic, her entire body language changing in the blink of an eye. While your attention should be on her footwork, you were instead hypnotized by the sway of her hips, greedily drinking her in. You chalked it up to her being such a captivating dancer.
However, little could explain how much you relished in her undivided attention. When it was your turn to copy the moves, you made sure to give it your all and put on a show. Without a hat obscuring her eyes, you could tell where her eyes were looking and it wasn’t always on your reflection in the mirror. You swore you could feel her gaze burning in your lower back, but you didn’t mind. It encouraged you to hit your moves a bit harder than you usually would.
“You’re a fast learner,” Bada said at the end of the day, drinking from her water bottle as you watched her throat bob. “Keep it up and you won’t need me anymore.”
You didn’t like the sound of that.
————— ୨୧ —————
By the fifth day, the both of you had started working through the details of the duet. 
The familiar song sounded through the speakers, the room filled with the sound of your singing voice and the squeaking of your sneakers on the floor. 
You were painfully aware of the way Bada closely danced behind you but you kept your eyes down, forcing yourself to keep track of your footwork. You bent over slightly at the start of the next line, your hips popping out and letting your hair whip to the side as you hummed along to the lyrics. In tandem, Bada moved her hips the opposite direction but gyrated closer to you, her hand coming up to tug her cap lower. You spared the mirror a glance for a split second, realizing Bada was much closer to you than you had realized, but you pushed the thought away.
You looked good together.
“Pause real quick.” She spoke suddenly, stepping away from you and bending over to stop the song. You immediately halted your movements at the command, trying to control the heaving of your chest and willing away the warmth of your cheeks. 
She stood up again, meeting your eyes in the mirror before steadying herself behind you, body close to yours.
“You’re doing great, but,” A tentative hand slid to your hip, fingers curling over in a loose grip as she subtly urged it to move to one side. Both your eyes remained locked through the mirror. “I think we should move together in this part. Like this.” She repeated the motion, her grasp on your hip tightening ever so slightly before pulling you flush against her pelvis. Her hips rocked along with yours, and you could only follow. 
She hummed close to your ear, and you felt her breathe along the side of your face. “Just like that.” Her voice was quiet, gentle even, though her stare was everything but that. It was intense. 
In an attempt to sound casual you replied with an “okay”, but it came out softer than you had hoped for. 
Her eyes dropped from the mirror, opting to look down at you directly, but you couldn’t find the confidence to return the favor. “You should do that thing again," she continued quietly, "Where you throw your hair back, but look at me when you do it.”
You repeated your steps, but this time both her hands came down to hold your hips in place. You turned your head as requested, your hair falling over your shoulder as your eyes finally met. Her gaze was intense but undecipherable; she hadn’t been looking at the mirror at all this time.
Bada was so close, unblinking and heady. The thought entered your mind before you fully realized: if you craned your neck you could kiss her. In a careful motion, you felt her hands slide up and down slowly, smoothing along the curve of your hips.
“Perfect.” She said, and it sounded so intimate you felt lightheaded. Usually she voiced her approval with an animated smile and a thumbs up, but she spoke to you as if she was scared you would set off running. “You got it. You want to try that again with music?”
You nodded slowly and her hands dropped from your hips, leaving a burning sensation in their wake. As she bent down to turn the song back on, you brought the back of your hand up to your cheek; checking if it was as warm as you felt. Then you ran your fingers through your ponytail, tightening the hair tie with a sharp tug in an attempt to snap yourself out of whatever daze you had fallen into.
It meant nothing. She had merely workshopped a move and there was no need to feel so nervous.
The final chorus of the song began thumping again and the both of you got into your starting positions. Bada’s presence was palpable behind you, but you tried to force your head back into performance-mode. You kept your moves sharp, lip synced as if the voice came directly from your own throat and smiled playfully at all the right lines. 
As the instrumentals of the final chorus got louder, you twirled a finger around your ponytail, playing with the imaginary crowd in front of you. Bada pressed up against your back. Your hips moving in tandem just as the choreo required and you could no longer repress the urge to grind back against her. You saw Bada smirk in the mirror, her eyes obscured by her cap, but you could tell she was enjoying your blunt display of confidence. That made you laugh for real, putting an extra ‘oomph’ into the roll of your hips, dropping even lower, and feeling Bada take what you gave her with a great amount of enthusiasm. You heard the choreographer let out a "woo!" and you giggled.
At the very end of the choreo, you were meant to face Bada and push her away; making room for a final solo moment. So you turned around, meeting that familiar mischievous grin and your hand came up to curl into her collar. Bada sucked in her lower lip, greedily towering over you and looking down expectantly. 
But something about the giddy atmosphere had you feeling bold, so you tugged her even closer instead. Her mouth fell open, but she followed you down nonetheless, eyes becoming half-lidded. You were mere inches removed from each other, and her breath fanned across your face. For a split second her gaze lingered on your lips, and you held your breath, heart fluttering in an unfamiliar feeling. A fleeting thought told you to bridge the gap, pull her impossibly closer by the grip you had on her collar, but your body acted before your brain could. 
You reached for her cap and tugged it off her head, putting it on yourself in one swift movement and then shoved her away as you were supposed to do; effectively breaking the spell. You turned on your heel to look back at your reflection in the mirror, consciously blocking Bada from your periphery and closed out the song. The music stopped.
Now that the studio was quiet you could hear the both of you catching your breaths, and rather than facing Bada while your face was still heating up, you flopped onto the floor, limbs spread out. You moved Bada’s cap atop your face, blocking out the bright lights of the practice room, feeling exceptionally winded. 
You felt Bada sit down next to you and she promptly pulled her hat off your face.
“Ow,” You uttered lamely, arms coming up to cover your face instead. Surely the shame you felt was on wide display and you had to save the little bit of the reputation you had left. You could already hear her voice, albeit uncharacteristically, echo in your head: “What was that?” “Why didn’t you just stick to what I told you?” “That was highly unprofessional.” Your stomach churned.
But instead she said: “That was incredible.”
“Huh.” You exclaimed unintelligently. You tentatively moved your arms from your face and were met with Bada staring you down, her hat back in place. It would probably be too weird if you went back into hiding, so you dropped your arms uselessly. 
“That was incredible,” she repeated, a fond smile on her lips. “You are incredible. I’m telling you, we’ve got a hit on our hands.” She extended her arms excitedly, as if she had to convey the sheer magnitude of potential you both had crafted.
“You really think so?” You sounded breathless, the warmth in your chest blossoming. 
“I know so. Seriously? If your team doesn’t like this, they’re idiots.” Her bluntness kicked a laugh out of you, and you playfully whacked her knee. “No, I mean it!”
“It wasn’t too much?” Slowly you sat up, tugging at the front of your shirt clinging uncomfortably to your body from the sweat.
Bada tilted her head, blinking at you sympathetically as she weighed your words carefully. 
“I’ve already told you,” her voice was quiet, as if she was worried someone else might overhear, “I can’t get enough of you. The same goes for the public, by the way.” 
That made you want to kick your feet like a teenager, butterflies fluttering in your stomach as you fought the impulse to fall into her arms. Instead, you dropped your head with a timid smile hoping that did enough to show your gratitude. 
Bada placed a hand on your shoulder with a touch so soft she might as well be reassembling a broken vase, urging you to look at her. “Let's take a break, order some bubble tea and then watch the recordings. Sound good?” 
You leaned into the touch with exhilaration. “Yeah. My treat, though.”
————— ୨୧ —————
The tenth day coincided with a photoshoot in the morning. You had gotten up at 4am to get to the location early enough so that there was enough room for your stylists to get to work. 
The first thing you noticed was the visual board you had worked on tirelessly a few weeks prior.
It had changed.
Some of the images jumbled around or left out entirely, replaced by ones you did not recognize or even liked to begin with. Even the color scheme had changed. Before you could ask your manager about it, however, your hair stylist beckoned you to follow her into the booth. Still groggy, with just a protein shake in your belly to keep you at bay, you followed without objection.
But then, after you emerged fully made up with your hair in intricate braids and ribbons, you saw the backdrop you were going to work with and the outfits you would be wearing: they looked nothing like what you had agreed on. 
Once sown into the baby pink corset, you looked at your reflection in the mirror with a glassy expression, too exhausted to even express the anger that was simmering in your chest. 
“What happened to the costume I commissioned?” You asked your manager in a flat voice, fully realizing you wouldn’t like whatever the answer would be.
“Oh,” But he didn’t sound surprised at all, “We didn’t really like how it turned out, so we decided to go with something else. Pink looks good on you, you know.” He added hurriedly. 
You blinked, clenching and unclenching your jaw. The last thing you wanted was to cause a scene in front of all the staff. Firstly, it wasn’t their fault; secondly, word got around quickly and the last thing you needed was a trending blind item about diva behavior. With great difficulty you swallowed the venom down your throat and walked over to the camera crew without sparing your manager a single glance. Bowing to everyone separately, you turned on the autopilot. You just needed to get through the day. You posed for the flashing of the cameras, turning your brain off.
“That’s a wrap! Great work, all.” The photographer’s voice snapped you out of your daze, and you slowly stumbled away from the backdrop, blinking back tears.
“Great job everyone, thank you for your hard work.” You hoped your voice sounded even and hurried away to get changed.
Once alone in your dressing room, you bent over the sink with your hands in your hair. You didn’t understand. They had seen the choreography Bada and you had worked on, and approved. They had been enthusiastic even, and it felt like your team and you had finally buried the hatchet. Now you understood why they were so pliant in their acceptance of the final choreo; they had found something else to exert their control over. You didn’t want to cry, so you grit your teeth and untied your hair, fingers smoothing out where the braids had been.
Bada.
In the bustle of the early morning you had almost forgotten you were meant to start your first practice with the entire dance crew today, with Bada as the lead choreographer ensuring everything played out exactly according to your collaborative vision. It had been almost two days since you had last seen her, yesterday being a day off for the both of you, and for some reason it felt like a lifetime.
You wanted to see her, but you weren’t sure if you could dance today.
You arrived at the studio about an hour later, right on time, with most of your makeup cleared from your face and dressed in joggers and a crop top. This time you were sporting a cap as well, hoping the dancers wouldn’t notice the fatigue etched on your face on your first day with them. 
Everyone was already there. Some dancers stretching, others practicing and a few watching the recordings while in deep discussion with Bada. Her flannel shirt was bunched up at her elbows as she made grand gestures with her hands, explaining something to the dancers in front of her. As the sound of the door opening and closing filled the room, the tall girl perked up mid-sentence, shooting you a wide smile. 
“Hey! I got you some coffee.” She spoke brightly, walking over to you in big strides as her loose braid fell off her shoulder. You had just finished bowing to everyone when you turned to Bada, feeling your chest swell at the sight of her. “How was the shoot?”
She must’ve noticed something. Perhaps it was the sag of your shoulder, the way you bit your lower lip or the exhaustion in your eyes; but her smile faltered slightly when she got a closer look. 
“It went alright.” You spoke neutrally, unable to meet her eyes but adding a nod to come across as reassuring as possible. “Thank you for the coffee.”
Bada stood a bit helplessly but seemed to understand that prying any further would be futile. “Of course, it was my turn, after all.” She smiled carefully. “You wanna get started?”
“Let’s do that.” You agreed, hoping that dancing would get your mind off of things. 
Bada gathered everyone together and gave a small speech, making a conscious effort to do all the talking so you could comfortably hide the swelling insecurity you felt deep in your chest. You nodded at the right times, smiled at the dancers (some of them peeking at you in awe) and tried to come across relaxed. 
Once Bada finished talking, she called for everyone to get in position as she strode to the far end of the room, where she had the most optimal view. You moved to the front, right next to your trampoline, facing the mirror and vaguely took note of a tall guy with a buzzcut who now stood in the spot Bada did when you had been practicing with her. Something about her not being part of the dance anymore, even though you perfectly knew this was going to be the plan all along, made you feel even less secure.
You shook your limbs loose, trying to empty your head for the sake of the dancers who were all blind to your inner turmoil and instead incredibly excited to be here. You did not want to waste their time. Once again, you forced yourself into auto pilot. 
The song started playing, bubbling synths building up to your first lines, and you danced. You danced as you had practiced with Bada, but weren’t able to envision the crowd in front of you. Instead you relied on muscle memory, which worked out well enough. Even when the tall guy was behind you for the duet, hips grazing yours, you didn’t feel very aware of your surroundings at all. Sometimes you all had to stop midway when Bada noticed that someone was offbeat or out of position, but you slid back into the moves easily. The team was strong, too. You danced the choreo once, twice, thrice and a fourth time. When you grabbed the guy’s collar, you pushed him back immediately, unlike what you had practiced with Bada, and finished your move.
Bada clapped her hands together with a cheer.
“That was solid, everyone!” She strode over, giving everyone a thumbs up. “Some things we have to smooth over, but we are way ahead on schedule. Let’s take five. I— Are you okay?”
You barely realized your own actions until you felt the warm tears run down your cheeks. You had sat down on the trampoline in such an unceremonious way, body shaking from exertion as you tried to hold back hiccups. Panic began crawling up your body and into your throat. Suddenly aware of the dancers seeing you in such a state, you took your cap off and held it in front of your face.
“Actually, since we are ahead on schedule, let’s make this a short day.” Bada’s authoritative voice declared to the entire room. The dancers nodded along nervously, glancing at your hunched figure with palpable worry. “Great work everyone, make sure to get home safe. Same time tomorrow.” 
You croaked out a soft “Thank you, everyone” through your fingers, but your voice was barely audible. You couldn’t face them.
Footsteps rushed around the room, the dancers gathering their backpacks off the floor. You barely registered the hushed voices slowly echoing further and further away from you, until the door shut with finality; a lock sounding in place and silence reigning over the space.
Bada’s hands came to rest on your shoulders as you felt the trampoline sink with her added weight. Then she pulled you into her arms with a tenderness you had never experienced from anyone before. Your arms tightened around her frame in instinct, dropping your cap onto the floor, and your heart constricting painfully as you hid your face in her chest. 
She didn’t speak as you hiccupped soundlessly, letting the exhaustion pour out of you with quivering shoulders. Bada’s hands traced comforting lines along your back, her cheek pressed against the top of your head as she waited for the trembling of your body to subdue. In turn, you tried to focus on the steady rise and fall of her chest, her breathing lulling you. 
After ten minutes of complete silence, Bada was the one to speak in a hushed voice: “What happened?” 
You glanced up at her, tears still running down your cheeks as you choked back a particularly pathetic sob. “I’m sorry…” 
Bada let out an affronted gasp, bringing her hands up to cradle your face instead and letting her thumbs wipe the tears from your cheeks. “Please don’t apologize. Tell me what happened.”
“My team,” You began with a slurred speech, “They still don’t believe in me. They don’t think I can pull this off.” 
Your voice sounded heartbroken: “They make sure to remind me every chance they get. My manager is certain I am going to embarrass the nation, because there is only one thing I can do and it’s not this. I can’t be sexy. I don’t have good ideas. And maybe they’re right! I don’t have the charisma to pull this off. My fans are going to hate it, because it’s not the person they wanted to support—” There was nothing you could do except keep going, like a faucet running, and Bada let you, “—I can’t even wear what I want. My visual board was cybercore inspired. I had a red PVC two piece outfit custom-made, but they put me in a pink dress and ballet shoes.” You added, horrified; not at the clothes, but at the clear disconnect between your team and you.
Bada, who was nodding along to your words with a serious expression up until that point, chuckled at your words, thumbs still catching tears. “Well I always thought you looked like a pretty princess, but that’s indeed a bit on the nose.”
The follow-up to your rant died in your throat, eyes widening at her words. Your brain was short circuiting. “You think I’m pretty?”
The taller girl scoffed at that, brows furrowing. “I can’t believe you just asked me that.”
“Why?” You asked, genuinely.
For a moment she gawked at you, deep in thought and searching your face for insincerity. Bada was unable to find it. 
“It’s not the only thing I think of you.”
Something about the atmosphere in the room changed when she spoke, and you almost forgot why you were upset in the first place. She carefully tucked your hair behind your ears, her eyes staring into yours unblinkingly. It reminded you of the way she had looked at you during practice days prior, when you had pulled her close by her collar for the first time. Her attention on you was suffocating, but you were glad to be drowning.
You sucked in your lower lip for a split second, releasing it, and waited with bated breath for her to continue. Her eyes dropped immediately, following your movements. She slid one hand down to the crook of your neck, slowly, the tips of her fingers tracing along your skin and leaving shivers in their wake; her other hand curled under your chin with a loose grip, tilting your head back slightly. Your head felt so heavy you could only lean in closer, wanting more of something you couldn’t even put in words.
But as always with Bada, she seemed to know what you wanted before you could open your mouth and ask for it. She closed the distance, brushing her lips against yours in a soft peck, and it was when you realized she was also holding her breath.
Her thumb trailed along your jawline, breath fanning over your lips. “Is this okay?” She asked quietly. You placed your hands on her thighs to brace yourself, your own lightheadedness overwhelming you, and nodded.
There was a shadow of a smirk on her lips when she kissed you a second time; lips connected with more force this time before gliding together in tandem. She tilted your head to get impossibly closer to you, her hand moving from your chin to tangle her fingers into your hair and cradling the back of your head. When her lips parted and closed around your bottom lip, nipping eagerly, you inadvertently let out a soft noise at the warmth of it all which only seemed to spur her on further. 
You curled your hands into the front of her shirt as her back straightened, crowding around you as if her goal was to subdue, the trampoline creaking underneath your shared weight. She seemed to relish in overpowering you, inhaling sharply through her nose when you parted your mouth for her further.
You felt the tentative prod of her tongue, and accepted. The wetness made you shiver as she swallowed your quiet gasps. The hand that was previously nestled against your neck slid lower, began exploring along the curve of your waist and feeling the bare skin your crop top couldn’t reach to hide.
She parted the kiss, and you let out a soft whine. Biting her lip in an attempt to hide her smile, but ultimately failing, her eyes were drinking you in. You could only imagine what you looked like as even Bada was flushed all over, chest heaving from excitement. Then, as if she was reading your mind, her eyes glanced over to the mirror in front of you. 
Bada shifted her position behind you, running her fingers through your hair before ultimately placing her palm against the other side of your waist. Steadily, as if she were correcting a move during practice, she turned your body to face the mirror. At this rate you simply accepted the effect she had on you, and wordlessly obeyed her ministrations. She planted her feet on the floor, long legs on either side of you; and ultimately caged you in, nestling her chin into the crook of your neck. Her eyes never left the mirror.
She brushed some of your hair over your shoulder as if she were propping up a doll, and spoke in a hushed voice: “Look at yourself.” 
The sight made you feel all the more dizzy. Through half-lidded eyes you barely recognized your own reflection; hair slightly mussed and lips swollen and lovebitten. Someone did that to you. Bada did that to you. 
The taller girl, pressed up against you, placed a kiss on your shoulder, fingers running up and down your body and making the hairs on your arms stand straight in exhilaration. You loved the way she touched you, how it made you feel; as if she was tracing the lines on an art piece. “You’re beautiful,” she whispered against your shoulder, “people would kill to see you like this.” 
The honesty in her voice made something in your stomach roll. “Bada…” You began, but you didn’t even know what you wanted to say.
“You have no idea how other people look at you.” Her hands cradled the small of your waist, fingertips digging into your hips. “So let me show you how they look at you.”
She began kissing up your shoulder, soft and warm presses of her lips, before parting her mouth against your neck with a tangible hunger that left you sighing. You tilted your head to the side to give her more room and every inch you freed, she swarmed eagerly. Her tongue swirled against a patch of skin, hand flattening on your lower stomach as the other traced higher and higher, along your ribcage, before inquisitive fingertips moved under the hem of your top. As she sucked a mark onto your skin, you clenched your thighs together at the familiar sensation between your legs. Your eyes slowly fell shut as she crept up higher, lips pressing right below your earlobe with a barely-there hum.
She whispered: “Keep looking at yourself.”
You obeyed bashfully, right when Bada reattached her lips to your skin. She had been tracing lines along the hem of your sports bra, enthralled with the way you shivered in her grasp, before slipping a hand under; her hand was warm as she kneaded your breast, but your nipples stiffened at the sensation all the same. You pushed out your chest to convey your delectation, and she rewarded you by sinking her teeth into your skin. Suddenly, with a swift movement, both her hands hoisted up the hem of your top and bra, and pulled it upwards, your breasts releasing from its confines. The cold air made them perk up and Bada’s hands cupped the underside.
She detached her lips from your skin with a wet sound before looking up at the mirror, taking you in with her saliva-slicked mouth agape. 
“So pretty,” Bada muttered, bringing your breasts a little higher, “Are you sensitive here?” She wondered loudly before tracing her thumbs right below your nipples. Once again your legs squeezed together, feeling yourself throb from excitement, and Bada picked up on the hint with a wide smile. “You are.”
In your reflection you saw Bada bring her fingers up to your mouth, thumb pressing down on your bottom lip imploringly, and you opened your mouth. She slipped her digit past, pushing it back against your tongue and you sucked obediently. Her eyes were drilling into yours through your reflection, enthralled by how pliant you were under her care. 
You released the digit with a wet ‘pop’ and Bada promptly brought it to your nipple, rubbing it in circular motions as her other hand continued to knead your other breast. A quiet moan escaped you, chest rising into her touch and Bada giggled, pressing another kiss on your shoulder. Your own hands ached to touch her, but she kept you firmly locked between her legs; instead you squeezed her upper thighs, feeling her shapes through the baggy cargo she was sporting. 
“Give me a kiss.” She commanded, and you immediately twisted your neck to capture her lips. 
It was all teeth, wet noises echoing through the room as your tongue swirled against hers; the taller girl groaning into your mouth at the sheer force you exerted. She gave your nipples a pinch before rubbing her fingers over them repeatedly, and she swallowed your breathless moans greedily. You dug your nails into her thighs as she cupped your breasts again, her tongue slipping out of your mouth to trail along your bottom lip instead. Your head was chanting her name, getting drunk on the near delirious attention she gave you. Tilting your head back even further, you connected your lips again even though the angle was uncomfortable. You were starting to feel desperate, hips lightly rocking back against the firmness of her body as Bada sucked down on your tongue.
One of her hands released your breast and trailed down the expanse of your stomach, once again breaking the kiss and instead opt to look at you in the mirror. Her fingers found the knot of your joggers as your eyes met in the reflection, and she pulled on the string; untying it. 
“Okay?” Bada inquired meaningfully, and you nodded much faster than you intended. “Let me hear you say it.” The tone of her voice, which was otherwise so gentle and quiet, made your full body shiver.
“I want it.” You spoke breathlessly, squirming impatiently between her legs as her fingers finally slipped down your pants.
She trailed along the sweatband of your underpants before cupping your heat over the fabric, fingers pressing against your folds inquisitively. Her eyes never left yours, quietly measuring your reactions. Unwittingly your thighs clamped around her wrist, breath hitching in your throat as she began to caress you with a touch so gentle it didn’t fit the precarious position you both were in. 
“You’re so wet.” Bada spoke coyly, smirking at the way your eyes squeezed shut in embarrassment. She began rubbing circles over your covered folds, feeling your wetness spread as if on command. Your breathing turned into whining, subconsciously grinding back against her hand. 
She removed her hand much to your distress, until you realized what she wanted: Bada began tugging the fabric of both your joggers and underpants down as far as she could, before giving your hip a commanding pat. You raised your hips to assist her ministrations, and she pulled the clothing down past your knees before you kicked them off fully. 
Your thighs were pressed together when you got back in place and suddenly felt self-conscious at how exposed you were despite your own eagerness. Bada wasn’t having it: her eyes were taking in your figure, hands immediately coming down to smooth along your thighs. Then, she squeezed tightly and wrenched your thighs wide apart, making you expose yourself for her. Before you could instinctively close them, her long legs hooked over your ankles, forcefully keeping them in place. All of it only made you throb harder.
“You don’t want to know how often I’ve been thinking about this these past few days.” Her hands smoothing along your sides in marvel, cupping your breasts once more. The tip of her nose pressed against the shell of your ear. “How many times I’ve watched those recordings and imagined you, exactly like this.” Her fingers fit into your mouth once again, and you sucked on them, letting your tongue swirl along the digits as if you were starving for it. “I think I lost count.”
Her confession made you moan around her fingers, shivers running down your spine. She scooted back ever so slightly, pulling your hips back with her unoccupied hand until it was the angle she needed, and then dropped it between your legs. Her fingers spread your folds and she sucked in a breath, completely mesmerized by your reflection. You were still swallowing around her fingers and she hummed encouragingly, hand cupping your vagina and spreading your wetness across your heat. 
She removed her fingers from your mouth and you caught your breath, fingers digging into her upper thighs as you braced yourself. As one hand kept your folds spread, the other, spit-slicked, began rubbing slow circles against you. You gasped at the sensation, mumbling her name in amazement. You raised your hand to the back of her head; grabbing a hold of her braid to simply have a hold of something, but it earned you a particularly sweet noise from the girl behind you. Your hips rocked back against her movements trying to find more friction in the right place, and Bada slowly sped up, moving her wrist up and down to try and find the spot that did it for you. Her lips pressed against the back of your neck so tenderly, and something about the dichotomy between that and the way she was touching you between your legs made your eyes roll back; lids closing as you thrusted back against her hand.
You didn’t understand how she was able to build up to that familiar knot in your stomach so soon, and it almost made you feel embarrassed, until you realized Bada was savoring every second of it. Her eyes never left your form, as if she were studying just another choreography, lips parted in an awestruck way. You had long foregone the urge to keep quiet, vocalizing exactly what she was doing to you: You let a particularly loud moan leave you when she rubbed along your most sensitive spot. Trying to pull more sounds from you, she pressed against your clit with more force and rubbed faster. Your hips could only chase her touch as your lower stomach constricted. 
Bada brought her hand up to her own lips and lapped at her fingers, effectively pausing her motions for a split second and thus drawing a broken whine from you; both because her hand wasn’t where you needed it to be and also because she had no qualms about having you in her mouth. It didn’t last long: she hushed you soothingly as she put her hand back where you felt it belonged and used the added wetness to add faster friction against your clit. Your head rolled back and you tugged at her braid, pulling an attractive groan from the girl behind you.
You weren’t far away anymore. Your lower stomach was unbearably tight with desire and you were a gyrating, frantic mess against her hand while her fingers rubbed against you in vertical swipes, her name falling from your lips repeatedly as if you were reciting a prayer. 
You managed to utter an “I’m close”, and Bada crowded against you before you could start begging her for release. “Come for me.” She demanded, and then immediately captured your mouth in a desperate kiss, teeth clashing together while she drank your sweet moans. 
As if on cue, the tension in your stomach imploded and you gave her braid a sharp pull. You gasped into her mouth, no longer kissing each other but rather breathing each other's air, as your orgasm rippled through you.
You felt your whole body quiver and shake in pleasure as Bada led you through your release, thighs trembling despite the hold the choreographer’s legs had on you. Her fingers hadn’t left your core, but the rubbing slowed down until you were gasping at the overstimulation, yet unwilling to make her hands leave you. As if she read your mind her movements came to a halt, but she pressed her palm against you; almost possessively. She planted kisses along the side of your throat, whispering praises against your skin as you caught your breath.
Once you had the rise and fall of your chest under control, her arms curled around your waist in a fond embrace, and you turned your head to look directly at her. She had already been staring at you, meeting your eyes with a bashful smile. The two of you laughed at each other, and Bada pressed your foreheads together.
“That,” You mumbled, eyes falling shut as you relished in her open affection: “Was amazing, thank you.”
“Was happy to do it.” She responded playfully, rubbing the tip of your noses together affectionately. 
“Will this happen every time I get self-deprecating?”
“I definitely intend to do this more often, but you could also just ask nicely.” Bada retorted with a smirk before pecking your lips. You giggled, putting your hands over hers and leaning back into the embrace.
After several more shared kisses and hushed whispers, both of you decided to get a move on: you were starting to get cold in your exposed state so Bada urged you to get up. She helped you step back in your clothes, a smug self-satisfied grin never leaving her face when she noticed the unsteady wobble in your legs. 
When you pulled your bra and top back over your breasts, Bada pouted. You gave her a playful shove but she caught your arms instead, bringing them around her neck as her own enveloped your waist.
“Wanna grab dinner?” Her eyes were round and hopeful.
“I would love that.” You replied, and gave her a kiss.
As the both of you tidied up the practice room and gathered your things, Bada listing off food suggestions in the background, your eyes slid to the table at the front of the room.
A familiar device remained perched on the edge, a small green light lighting up proudly.
“Hey, Bada.”
“Hm?”
“Camera’s still recording.”
She stumbled over looking mortified, snatching the device off the table and rewinding haphazardly. 
“Oh, fuck.”
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⌗︙・ sneaking off with caelus for quickies ♡⸝⸝
Caelus is sometimes too horny for his own good, golden eyes filled with nothing but debaucherous visions as he undresses you with his eyes. When he wasn't fighting alongside you or running around completing missions left and right, he'd come up with some half-assed excuse regarding the Antimatter Legion before dragging you off to some unoccupied corner and fulfilling his lewd fantasies. He was a pure menace, groping your ass from behind just out of view from the others, frustrating you to no end when he refused to touch you any further. Not at least until you found an opportunity to sneak off.
But you were no saint, not with how you sloppily drooled all over his cock as he fucked your throat, or how eagerly you'd grind down onto his pelvis as you rode him in the privacy of your room. But who could blame you for acting in such a desperate way? Caelus' cock was just so good, fat head and length pressing against your walls in all the right ways that had you cumming rather embarrassingly quickly. He'd always cum in thick, creamy globs that painted your insides white and left your belly feeling warm and heavy. He was a fast learner, learning each of your weak spots with a scarily quick eagerness that left you breathless.
So it wasn't really too much of a surprise with how often you snuck away on missions just to fuck in some unlit alleyway.
"They're probably looking for us... I bet they're worried since we've been gone for a while. We should.. we should really hurry up. " You huff, raising your head to look at Caelus, his face mere inches from yours. He takes a gulp of air before nodding in agreement, no doubt having the same concern as you.
"Yeah... March is probably dragging Dan Heng by the ear.." His brow furrows, looking simultaneously troubled and amused at the thought of the former dragging around the stoic male as if he were some sort of rag doll.
Even if the two of you are sharing the same concern, it was clearly juxtaposed by neither one of you making the effort to wrap up your little activity as quickly as possible. Although, little activity was a bit of a damn understatement when you had Caelus' cock sheathed inside your hole, back against the dingy wall of the alleyway as he moves his hips against yours over and over. Your arms and legs are locked around his body, doing your best to keep from falling and sliding down the wall. But Caelus has a good grip on your ass—he's a lot stronger than he looks—and his hips sure aren't going to be slowing down anytime soon.
"Fuuuck, s'so deep, so fucking good.." You whine into his neck, biting back a moan as his balls smack noisily against your skin. He's got so much vigor in each of his thrusts, pelvis pressed as close as possible to yours in such a confined position. You don't know how long the two of you have been at this, but you know it's long enough to have his cum leaking out, staining the ground below in gooey droplets. "Fuck me—ooh!—right there, right there, fuck me harder—oh god!"
Caelus chokes out a moan—you were so fucking tight—sucking in a shaky breath as he continues to pound into you. "Didn't you just tell me to hurry up? What changed your mind? Do you like my dick that much?" You can hear the smirk in his voice, though it wavers with each flutter and pulsing of your walls around his length. God he was such a little shit.
"Just shut up already.." You slam your lips against his without warning, moaning in a mix of relief and ecstasy. He makes a slight noise of surprise, but, given how often you'd dodge his postcoital affections, you don't blame him. But right now, you could care less if he happens to get to the wrong idea about you kissing him—or perhaps, a small part of you deep down wants Caelus to get the wrong idea.
The two of you melt into the kiss, teeth gnashing noisily and tongues entangling and rubbing up against one another as you both cling onto each other. Soon, drool begins to streak across your lips and chin—fuck, kissing Caelus felt so damn good, why didn't you do it before?—as warm pressure builds up in your lower stomach. His plush tip keeps pushing up against your oversensitive walls, the pulsing veins on the side of his cock stimulating you further and further.
But soon the lack of oxygen proves to be too much, and the messy kiss is broken apart. Strings of saliva stick to your tongue, but a bolt of pleasure shoots through you and you rest your head against the wall of the alley. With your neck exposed to him, you whine his name repeatedly like a chant, his entire being overwhelming you in waves.
"Caelus, Caelus, Caelus, Caelus...!"
Caelus' hips give a final thrust, the veins on his fat cock twitching and pulsing as he spills himself inside of your walls until even more droplets begin to ooze out. Reflexively, he immediately starts kissing your neck, mouth sloppily fitting against your rapid pulse, but this time you don't stop him. It feels ticklish, but surprisingly helping in lowering you from your high. He doesn't pull out until he's pumped out every last drop, although the way your walls clamp around him ends up squeezing out a few more drops anyways. You both shudder, the sudden emptiness in you and the lack of warmth around him a bit too much.
As if on cue, the cum that hadn't been oozing from your hole thanks to Caelus plugging you up nice and tight, now trickles out. A part of you is disappointed to not have it stay deep inside, but you're too out of it to do anything about it.
Your legs begin to slip, but Caelus seems to notice and aids in lowering you down. As soon as your feet touch the ground, you nearly double over but he catches you, choosing to lean you against him for support. With your head against his chest, you can feel the warmth of his body, each inhale and exhale he takes, and the beating of his heart.
The alleyway is filled with soft pants, concealed from any prying eyes. Like your own little world, just the two of you. It's... rather nice in a way.
"We're... we're gonna continue this when we get back to the Express, got it?" Of course you will. The two of you are as horny as rabbits, and quickies would only keep you both temporarily satisfied. But you could bet that if he found the opportunity, he'd sneak into your room. Again. "My back's killing me, I think you just scraped off my damn skin... I'd like my back to remain injury-free while getting dicked down thank you very much."
"Fine by me. I'd prefer to fuck you on your bed anyway." He snorts in amusement, a sliver of a smirk on his lips as he playfully squeezes your ass. You squeak and flinch at the ticklish sensation, to which he chuckles. "Not that I've got anything against doing this in an alleyway. It's actually kinda hot."
"Shut up and help me put my underwear back on."
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