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#this was really incredibly low effort
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These are lazy as hell phone doodles but I'll post em anyway. Adventure Time redraws with the blorbos or whateve
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br1ghtestlight · 25 days
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testing out youtube's copyright system by superimposing a transparent image of sketchpad tnm over copyrighted material and seeing when the copyright claim is triggered. currently at 17% opacity being fine while 10% DOES get copyright striked. is everybody excited for the random transparent sketchpad tnm jumpscares in an hour long youtube video to avoid copyright
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feralnumberfive · 1 year
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Arrested for being a public menace
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fireofjudgement · 2 years
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I know most of you probably wouldn't fall for this anyway but I still feel the need to say it, if you get a message like this please do not go to the site, don't apply for anything, it is most definitely a scam and it's just unfortunate they target artists out of all people, especially since tumblr is full of them. Please be safe <3
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fruitmouse · 2 months
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ough. thinking
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jimgandolfini · 1 year
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normal people: struggle to let their new s/o get close enough to break their heart the way a former s/o did
me: struggling to accept the generosity and mentorship of a fella should it result in the way I disappointed my former mentor into no longer speaking to me🫠🥴
#this fellas teaching me a type of art that I was introduced to at my former museum#and he’s so happy that I care about what he does and he’s very proud of my interest/efforts#so he keeps telling ppl he’s teaching me and showing them my progress#bc he’s just very excited#(even tho I’d prefer to keep expectations low and not have everyone in the world know/expect something from me)#but my point is it’s 🤢 that I occasionally wonder if he’s told museum paul or someone he told then told museum paul#and I kind hope he has 🤮🤮#idk#one of my favorite compliments of all time#was my former/favorite coworker saying that if anyone was going to replace museum paul and match his level of enthusiasm it would be me#and idk idk idkdkiidkd idk#I’m just a little bit like mp look my interest is/was genuine I really care look and I’m doing my part to carry the tradition on look I was#the admin support for these traditions and came to you with zero knowledge they even existed and look I’m so ingrained in the community now#that one of the best guys alive doing it is teaching me look MP look#😕😖🤮🤮#anywya really though#this guys so incredibly kind and he’s so enthusiastic about me learning#and it’s wonderful but a little part of me a little deeper down is like okay but just be prepared to not be surprised or crushed if you do#fail him or fall out one day#bc MP is still the most sincere person I’ve ever met and the current state of things doesn’t cancel out anything but#all that sincerity all that mentorship all those positive things also don’t cancel out the fact that we are at 180 degreees from where we#used to be#mp#anyway
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katsumox · 11 months
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something about jason todd with a touchy!reader s/o is literally so yummie.
You’ve got him on his stomach, regrettably, he thinks, as you watch the hills and divots of his muscles roll and flex as he gets comfortable. The scarred herculean expanse of his back is exposed to you as you sit on his butt.
“Dunno why I agreed to this,” he frowns, not bothering to move his head, unmuffling his musings.
He really doesn’t; ten minutes ago you two were having a very civil discussion (read: arguing) about something or other. Next thing he knew, he was in your bed, on his stomach, half naked and under you.
“Cause you like me,” you sing, breaking him from his thoughts, as you drag manicured fingers up his back, pressing into his taut muscle, deftly massaging each sore part of him.
“You like this. ‘S okay to admit it,” you add.
He gives a noncommittal noise that gets cut off by a strangled gasp when he feels your hands pressing into the upper muscles of his back.
There’s a deep discomfort that settles in his stomach; he’s never been touched so lovingly, not without hidden motives tainting said touch. He isn’t sure if he should push you off him or beg you to keep going.
You hum as you work his muscles, letting his inconsistent breathing and occasional gasps guide you.
You continue rubbing him down, occasionally pausing to apply more shea butter to your hands before resuming your work.
You reach up to his neck, as he sighs. You press just a hair harder, feeling a knot loosen at the pressure. Jason inhales, trying to steel himself from any possible reaction.
Regardless of his efforts, a low “Fuck,” reverberates through his chest. He internally frowns at the sound of his low whine, sounding like a wounded animal. He reddens as he hears himself, internally cringing at his neediness, at your willingness, and the intimacy of it all.
“That was pretty,” you murmur, teasing lilt in your voice. He’s fighting the urge to shut down this moment of vulnerability the two of you are sharing. You know he’s really pushing himself, so you try to keep the extra teases locked away for another day, another less intense moment.
You shut yourself up, instead focusing your attention to Jason’s expansive back. You press harder in the same spot, shameless in your attempt to illicit more noises from him as you whisper, “Give me another.”
He shudders, giving a shaky exhale as he composes himself.
“You’re evil,” he grumbles, despite almost leaning up into your touch.
“So evil,” You smile, “Totally evil.”
Not once does your touch on his back falter. He hums in agreement, softly smiling into a pillow.
“Incredibly evil,” Jason sighs. “Lucky I like your evil ass.”
“Aw,” you say, “Red’s finally going soft. I got you up under me and now you don’t know how to act. ”
Jason can hear the smile in your words. Choosing to ignore it, he closes his eyes and focuses solely on your touch.
“Yeah,” He mumbles, before pausing to consider his words, “Goin’ real soft, only for you.”
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bigfatbimbo · 3 months
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silly low effort dating Lucifer headcanons —
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I LOVE HIM SO MUCH HE’S THE SILLIEST EVER. Anyways, now that we have that out of the way. He is very touchy with you, especially after you guys start dating. He constantly has his hand on your shoulder, arm, in your hair, or on your leg. He’s been so touch starved ever since Lilith left him. So he’s always chasing that kinda of comforting physical touch. Also, probably just always clinging to your arm, no matter what you’re doing too. He’s just there, hanging around. I said in another post he likes to play with your fingers, rings, hands, bracelets, etc when he rambles on about whatever is interesting him. ”I had another Idea for a rubber duck that blows bubbles but I never really got around to it, plus there’s always—“ and he’d be fiddling with your hands the entire time. He also has a thing for being called really lovey-dovey pet names. Princess, sweetheart, babycakes, pretty boy, things like that. I swear they have him on the floor blushing every time, especially if you play it up well enough. ”You look so good today,” and then you strut over to him and tilt his head up to look at you, “my pretty boy.” Hes in shambles oh my god. Probably giggling and putting his hand over his mouth to conceal his dorky grin. Up the stakes by taking his hand and kissing it gently, never breaking eye contact. “Oh— oh my—“ he would stutter out. “Darling how… charming.” But he’d be tomato red and giggling the whole time. Not a lot of people acknowledge this, but he can be very snobby too. Of course, he’s the king of hell. Why shouldn’t he be? He also hold himself to a standard above sinners because, in his words, ‘they’re just the worst.’ So he’d be lowkey snooty and proud in public sometimes. And he’s a little rich boy too so don’t be surprised if he complains about how: “This restaurant serves their lamb too cold. You know, we don’t have to eat here. I have pancake batter at home sooo…” If you end up calling him out on it he’d feel bad about being so bratty and tip the waitress an outrageous amount. Also, i’m sorry this man is a little spoon through and through. Let’s be real right now. He’s so tiny he absolutely dissolved in your arms. Which is very comforting for him on bad days when he just wants to be held by you. He also, even though he acts all high and mighty when it happens, loves being manhandled by you. Maybe he’s overworking himself and so you just sneak up behind him and throw him over your shoulder. He'd bang his fists on your back and demand to be treated with dignity, as if he couldn’t overpower you in seconds. Also, you catch him talking to his rubber ducks A LOT. For a while they were probably all that he talked to it’s kind of sad to watch. But in a cute way? He has names for them all and specific personalities. He’ll be showing you his collection and be like “Oh, george likes you!” after forcing you to hold a rubber duck for him. Also a good cook, I don’t know why I just feel like he is. But like very oddly specific dishes too. He makes a mean gourmet mac and cheese with parmesan on the top. He likes to dance with you too, whether it’s slow dancing or you two are just being silly, he likes to feel your body warmth on him while you two move together. Also, i’m pretty sure we all ready know… autism. I’m not even projecting this time either, it just might as well be canon. So he comes you to about any new hyperfixations he has at the time because he trusts that you, above all people, will listen to him. Once again he’ll play with your bracelets, or fiddle with his hands while he talks to you. And of course, you listen, and even do your research later to make him feel like you really care. He also loves making arts and crafts with you. Sometimes even with some friendly competition (incredibly competitive high-energy contests on who’s contraption works better.) I also imagine you have to say things to him multiple times for him to hear you. It’s not that he can’t hear you, he’s just in his own little world, not paying attention at all to his surroundings.
”What, honey? Sorry, didn’t catch that last part—“ 
Then he’ll focus so hard on paying attention, that he’ll forget to actually pay attention and make you explain it another time.
I imagine he likes doing little tasks for you, so he can feel useful. Like running your laundry for you, doing the dishes, anything to keep him busy.
Also, it’d it earns words of affirmations from you, then it’s worth it. 
Say you catch him scrubbing pots and pans to save you the effort. Come up behind him, put your hands on his hips and kiss his head before telling him how amazing he is. And how great full you are for him.
He’s beaming and smiling so hard his cheeks hurt.
I also think he’s a morning person, so more often than not, he wakes you up with breakfast in bed.
He falls asleep so early at night it’s literally crazy. 
Like you could be hugging him, even standing up, at nighttime and he would immediately get so drowsy.
You’d have to pick him up bridal style and carry him to bed, all the while he’s whining about how he’s “Not tired, yet! I still have so much to do.” I think he also is a huge giggler like he just gets a kick out of everything you say and thinks you’re the funniest person alive. Also, he’s a terrible ugly crier. Like his face scrunches all the way up, snot comes out of his noise, he makes god awful chocking noises. It be kinda funny if it wasn’t so sad to watch to be honest. Cries at super stupid things too, those dog commercials for example. But it’s so bad he could be being his goofy self and like making the milk and the carton of eggs talk to each other. And he would get so invested in their ‘lives’ that he would start crying. ”No, Mr. Milk i’m sorry we can’t—“ sniff sniff “—be together. I DON’T LOVE YOU!” and now he’s crying. He buries his face in your shirt when he cries and just, I have a specific noise in mind, violently squeaks and sniffs.
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a/n — My tumblr was tweaking out when I wrote this. I don’t know what happened but if you saw this posted last night, no you didn’t.
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catcatb0y · 1 year
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#I feel like such a shitty friend#I'm just#such a failure#I try so fucking hard to be low maintance because I've always been too much#but it literally just fails#I barely have the energy for the things that I like#and there are just so#so many roadblocks between me and fucking everything#and it's so incredibly selfish of me to need so much help while not being able to give anything back#I have such a hard time getting into new things and now I have horrible writer's block even for vivid interests#it gets to the point where the few people actually making any effort in my life feel almost like burdens because I can't#I can't do /shit/ for them because I'm so fucking broken that I can barely do shit for myself and I feel like garbage for not being able#to do simple things like I'm just worthless and self centered#and I know how annoying and heavy it is to hear 'It's me I promise it's me' and 'I swear I want to do things for you I just can't'#so I really don't want to make things worse by being That Guy and be guilt trippy as hell just making things more about me#but the problem is ME and I don't know HOW to change#the only thing that I could possibly do... is push my shitty emotions onto someone else... again.#forcing them to comfort me and well... BEING THE PROBLEM for someone else#there is no right answer#I'm like the thrown put fishing net that kills turtles#I don't suit the purpose I was made for because I'm broken but I still can't stop harming others with my uselessness#sometimes I feel like I am putting everything I have into the things that I do and no one sees or notices#and then I have no energy left for the people that would actually give two shits and it just makes me wonder if maybe I really wasn't doing#enough in the first place because I either get severely undermined or I end up just getting pity support#I can't even accept the praise or affection that I need and crave because it all feels disingenuine and unauthentic#what is wrong with my brain
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lexyeevee · 1 year
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it's wild to see myhouse having escaped the orbit of Doom People, because so much of it specifically riffs on doom in a way that is laser-targeted at Doom People, to the point that i just wouldn't have expected it to be nearly as interesting if you don't pick up on that stuff
right from the outset, "my house" is even a recognizable genre, because doom was among the first approachable platforms for creating a 3D space, and if you give random people the ability to create a 3D space then many of them will just try to recreate their own house. (i want to say jp lebreton even made an effort to play through every house map on the idgames archive at one point, though hell if i can find it now.) there was in fact already a "myhouse.wad", from 1995!
frankly it's incredible that someone (or someones) put so much effort into this map and then had the gall to simply post it on doomworld as "myhouse.wad", because that is a thread title that guarantees the fewest possible people will bother to look. there are posts in the thread where people outright admit that they only checked because they were surprised how many replies a "my house" wad got.
so anyway, okay, the "classic" doom wad experience is that you download a wad, it contains exactly 1 map, and it has zero custom textures or music or other frills. most wads from the 90s are like this; if you're lucky you might get a bad midi rendition of a metallica song. nowadays there are texture artists and musicians and everything collaborating on full map packs, but "just a map" is still kind of the default mapping experience and is recognizable to anyone who's been around doom for sufficiently long.
and myhouse riffs on absolutely every aspect of this:
• the music is the MAP01 music, Running From Evil, which is just the music you get if you supply your own map in the MAP01 slot and do nothing else. so a ton of 90s maps had this same track as their background music, so everyone has heard it a zillion times. it is ingrained into so many people's skulls. subtly fucking with it is a great way to fuck with the player
• the house uses only stock doom 2 textures, or occasionally light modifications of them. again this is just what you get if you make a map and don't supply any other resources, so the stock textures are very familiar. only later, with sufficient poking around, does the map introduce new textures, which really help sell the impression of being swept away to Somewhere Else
• if you take the exit, you go to MAP02, Underhalls. this is the expected experience because doom wads replace what's already there — you're not really supplying a "new map pack" or anything, you're overwriting a map from the original doom 2 progression. (there are ways to fiddle with this now, but in vanilla doom 2, the level progression was hardcoded.) so the "ending" of a no-frills single-map wad is always, always to transition to Underhalls. the opening shot of Underhalls is practically like seeing the credits. so roping Underhalls into the experience is completely unexpected, because Underhalls is the sign that you've escaped back to regular doom
• the super shotgun is "hidden" in Underhalls, in probably the best-known super shotgun location in the whole game, because it's the first time you can get it
• incidentally Underhalls itself feels uncanny, because the player camera height is higher than usual to make the house's proportions feel sensible. (part of the trouble with exact recreations of real spaces in doom is that the camera is weirdly low.) i was actually convinced that myhouse included a modified Underhalls, but no, it's stock doom 2 Underhalls, it just feels off when you're slightly taller
but wait, there's more
• silent teleporters are a feature from boom, a very early doom derivative that added a number of helpful mapping features and is basically considered only half a step beyond vanilla. so shifting between two versions of a space without interruption isn't completely unexpected. it's only later that the portal use becomes more obvious
• although if you're especially canny, you should notice that the second version of the house shows both the upstairs and downstairs windows in full, which is impossible — doom cannot do room-over-room. (in fact this is accomplished with a semi-obscure zdoom feature called sector portals — essentially, the whole second floor and the space outside it are a separate area, and the "ceiling" of the yard becomes a view up through the "floor" of that second space.)
• swinging doors are a hexen feature (polyobjects) that gzdoom inherited. (heretic and hexen were modifications of the doom engine, and zdoom started out as a merge of all three codebases into something that could play all three games.) they might also be in other fancy engines (eternity?), but they are very distinctly not a doom thing. if you're deeply familiar with doom's limitations then they'll jump out at you immediately, but if you're looking at doom like it's any old 3D game then maybe not so much
• recreations of other humble real-world locales are also a somewhat common theme, and remind me in particular of Doom City, from way back in 1995
• a very common desire for players is to "uv-max" a map, i.e. reach the exit on ultra-violence with 100% kills and secrets. if you can't do this, the map is (reasonably) considered broken. it is comically impossible to do this in myhouse, and anyone with the skill to create the map would be acutely aware of this
• the extra weapon frames look to be borrowed from the well-known smooth doom, which adds extra frames for everything and is just pretty dang slick overall. so it's not merely "ho ho, got you, smoother weapons" but specific integration of another familiar project
• this might be reaching a bit, but mirrors are specifically a nightmare in zdoom's software renderer because they work by rendering all visible geometry as if it were physically present on the other side of the mirror — and if there be any actual geometry back there, it will also get rendered and you will have a big fucking mess. so a mirror in the middle of a room is a laughable idea. this is somewhat less of a concern now that the hardware renderer is basically the default, but it's still a spectre looming over the very concept of mirrors, so the way mirrors play out in myhouse is very funny to me
there's probably more, like, the way it intercepts noclip is a stroke of genius and not something i've ever seen done before. but i hope you get the idea
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pinkanonwrites · 6 months
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"Oh! That's What That Does?!"
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All art by @archie-sunshine
G1 Rumble/ Mechanic Reader - 2400+ Words NSFW, Valveplug, Plug 'N Play, Mild Sparkplay, Accidental Stimulation, Edging, Human Reader, GN Pronouns
Ahh, the inherent eroticism of repairing your machine.~ I've had this one cooking for a while, so I hope you all enjoy! I've also gotten pretty attached to this mechanic Reader, so they'll likely pop up again with other cassettes (and maybe even some other Decepticons!)
NSFW WRITING AND IMAGERY BELOW THE CUT!
“Ey… EY! Careful wit’ dat! It’s touchy!”
“Rumble,” You groaned, pinching the bridge of your nose. “You're making this way more difficult than it needs to be.”
“I wouldn't be complainin’ if you'd stop touchin’ all up on bits that don't gotta be touched! Rootin’ around in there like I'm one’a your crappy organic machines!”
Removing your hands from Rumble’s open chest, you tossed them roughly into the air. “Y'know what? Fine. Do it yourself. Better yet, get Frenzy to pull the shrapnel out of your chest. That'll go great.”
You would have slid off of Rumble’s lap and stormed off, if not for his massive servos closing around your wrists with an unexpected delicacy. Your efforts to remove your hands only reinforced his grip, using just enough force to keep you from leaving without crushing your wrists entirely.
“H-Hey, no need ta be so hasty! Look, I’m just steamed cause'a the battle, dat’s all. Frenz’ can't do dis, it's gotta be someone more… dainty. Y’know. Little human hands and all dat.” The harsh glow of his visor had dulled slightly as his gaze cast down to your hands. You rolled your eyes, wrists finally slipping from his grip as you settled back in. 
Dangling wires and sparking shrapnel dotted his open chest cavity, illuminated by the light of his spark chamber. Rumble had staggered off-balance into your workshop whining about the prodding pieces of broken metal keeping him from transforming properly, yet you’d barely managed to get two wires back in place before he started squirming and whingeing and slinging verbal abuse at you.
 Not that you weren't used to it, any interactions with Rumble and Frenzy usually involved some level of bullying. Fortunately, the two cassettes are also incredibly predictable. As soon as you would threaten to take away or withhold what they're asking for, they’d start falling all over themselves with apologies and placations. After all, you may not have been the only mechanic in the area, but you were certainly their favorite.
“Are you going to actually let me work? Or are you going to start yelling at me again?”
“Yellin’? Who's yellin’? Yer the mechanic here, my spark is in your squishy little hands. Do your magic, doc.” He sat back again, servos clutching the edges of your workbench in a show of effort, a genuine attempt to keep them still (or however genuine any show of rule-following from Rumble could be.)
“That's what I thought. Now let me actually fix a few things before you start whining again.” Your gloved hands dipped back into his chest cavity, skirting the edges of his spark chamber to pick away at the bits of loose shrapnel stuck in some of the wires. His frame shuddered, a hiss of steam escaping through his dentae as your knuckles brushed the underside of the spark casing.
“C-Careful,” He said again, with significantly less bite to his tone.
“Does it hurt?”
“Somethin’ like dat.”
“I'll be careful, so let me know if it gets to be too much.” You smoothed a palm down the armor covering his stomach, flinching back when you heard another sharp hiss of steam.
“I’m fine! It's fine! Just… do ya gotta be all on top’a me like dis?”
“I can't reach properly if you're laying down. If you're standing you might keel over on me, and I really don't feel like being squished to death today.” He let out a low grumble as you jacked another cable back into its proper port. “I'll try to be quick, that way you won't have to worry about my ‘human germs’ and you can get outta here. Deal?”
“Yeah, yeah. Just-”
“Be careful. I know.”
And with that you went to work, separating and organizing cables, taping off leaky tubing and removing pieces of scrap metal as gently as you could. Every once in a while Rumble would jerk or twitch beneath your touch, letting out a muffled curse or huff but sparing you from his usual complaints. It was… uncharacteristically quiet, for sure. This was the most extensive repair you'd ever done on him, though, so maybe he was just having surgery jitters.
“Okay, I've gotten most of the shrapnel out. But there's a piece right behind your spark casing.”
“Well? Get it outta there!”
“I'm going to, but I need to get my whole hand in there. I'm warning you now because it's going to be bumping up against your spark casing a lot. I'm going to do my best but you have to tell me if it hurts too much.”
Rumble let out a long, pathetic groan. “Actually doc, maybe you can just leave dat one in there? F-For funsies?”
“Eh?! Rumble, I’m not gonna just ‘leave it in there’! It's gotta come out.”
“Something's gonna come out if you keep proddin’ around in there like dat…”
“What was that?”
“Gh! Nothin’! Don't worry ‘bout it!”
“...Okay. I’m gonna start now. Are you ready?” Rumble only responded with gritted dentae and a tense nod. Working your gloved hand under his spark chamber, you could feel the ambient energy making the hairs on your arm stand on end as you felt for the jagged edge of broken metal. Your glove blocked your view entirely, so you were left blindly groping your way up the metal surface, feeling for anything bent or out of place. When your fingers could no longer reach any further while still avoiding the casing, you slid forward and ducked slightly into Rumble’s open chest, the back of your hand pressing up against the underside of his spark chamber.
CLANG!
You jumped, and if it weren't for Rumble’s arm wrapping around you and almost crushing you into his open chest you may have jostled the sensitive chamber even further. You slid your hand back again, easing off of the reinforced glass, and his grip receded.
“What the hell was that? And what was that clang?”
“I said don't worry ‘bout it!” He hissed, voice glitchy with static. “Everythin’s totally normal, I dunno why you're getting all jumpy ‘bout- MMNGH?!” You moved your hand up again into the same position, and Rumble let out an embarrassingly high whimper. You glanced up at his face, a flush of pink behind the usual grey and beading with coolant… and something clicked.
“Oh my God are you getting off on this?”
“N-No!”
Behind you you heard a sharp snikt, and the sound of pressurizing hydraulics.
“...Maybe?”
“Jesus fucking Christ.”
“H-Hey, don't go gettin’ a big head or nothin’! A bot’s spark chamber is sensitive! Don't go thinkin’ this is cause of your squishy frame or your soft little digits or nothin’!” He seemed to almost shrink in on himself, face plate practically glowing as his shoulders pulled up around his helm. You'd never say it to his face, but he looked surprisingly… small, at this moment. You heaved an exhausted sigh.
“Okay. Okay. I'm going to get this last piece out, alright? It's the last one. And whatever happens while I'm doing that..? It just happens. We won't bring it up again, no need to be embarrassed. Deal?”
“‘Deal?!?’” He squawked, positively scandalized. “How do I know yer not gonna gossip with Frenz’ the next time he's in for a tune-up?”
“Well Frenzy usually never lets me get a word in edgewise, first of all.” You huffed. This was way more than you'd signed up for. “I'm not going to make fun of you, Rumble. Let’s just get you patched up, then you can head home. Okay?”
His mouth was pulled into a tight, wobbly frown as he glanced down at you, choking out a single word. “...Promise?”
“I promise.”
“...Slag. alright, let's get dis over with.” He lolled his head back against the table with a clank, resigning himself to his fate. This time, when your knuckles brushed his spark casing, he couldn’t stifle his soft moan. Your fingers felt further and further up, until almost your entire hand was behind the glass bubble containing his pulsing spark. Finally, you could feel the jagged piece of metal. You wrapped your fingers around it and gave it an experimental tug. It stuck fast, and your hand bumping against Rumble's spark only pulled another surprised moan from him.
“W-Watch it!” He yelped, sounding too fucked-out to come across as actually threatening.
“It's really stuck in there. I'm going to start working it out, so let me know if you need me to stop.”
“Wh… workin’ it out? Whadda ya- ohhh…~” 
With your thumb and forefinger gripping the edge of the broken metal, you began to wiggle it gently back and forth to ease it from the plating and wires around it. Each time you moved the back of your hand rubbed up against the far side of his spark chamber, warmth radiating through your glove as Rumble started to vent more harshly.
“Slag… slag! Don't think it's ever been touched back there before. Feels… feels crazy.” He moaned. The metal of your work table shrieked and crumpled like cardboard under his iron grip, desperate to keep his servos off of himself or, Primus forbid, you. The piece stuck firm, and as you braced your other hand against the outside paneling of his chest to readjust your balance he let out a sharp, staticky yelp. “S-STOP!”
You froze immediately. “Are you okay? What's wrong?”
A few shuddering vents were your only response for a moment, Rumble’s visor lights flickering frantically as he tried to steady himself. “Whooo… Almost blew my top for a second there.”
“Seriously?”
“Hey! Yer the one that told me to tell ya if I need ya to stop! I'll be slagged to the Pit before I let some ‘squishy’ run my charge like dat.”
“...Can I start again? I’m making some progress here.”
“...Y-Yeah. Yeah. Yer good.”
You let out another soft sigh, trying to focus on the rhythmic sktch sktch sktch of metal on metal rather than Rumble’s shivering whines. His vocalizer pitched and warbled with static, attempts to stifle his own words slowly giving way to a deluge of fucked-out babbles.
“Ah! Gh! Ohh, mmnh, stupid little hands feelin’ all- nnh!~ Jus’ get it outta there! Please?”
I’m working on it. You’re doing good, just hang in there.” Your placations only resulted in another desperate moan. After what couldn’t have been more than another thirty seconds or so, he blurted out again.
“Ah! Stop!”
You retracted your hand for a moment, letting Rumble gasp for breath above you in a futile attempt to cool his core. You rubbed at his chest paneling as he shivered beneath you hard enough that you thought bolts were going to start coming undone. Even the paneling you were seated upon was burning up, heat seeping through the fabric of your coveralls. His glowing face plate was slick with coolant. Without thinking, you reached up and swept away a bead of it with your thumb, making him jump.
“H-Hey, quit dat…” He groaned, all bite lost from his tone.
“Rumble… The more you keep stopping me the longer this is going to take.”
“You think I don’t know dat?!” One of his arms draped dramatically over his face. “I’m tryin’! But you just keep pokin’ around in there and it’s all touchy and it’s makin’ me feel like my spike’s gonna burst and I can’t take it anymore!” He sniffled. Could Cybertronians even sniffle? You weren’t sure, but he sounded close to tears.
“Rumble… Have you ever actually edged yourself before?”
“Whu- Whuh? How’s dat any of yer business?”
“I’m just thinking…” You ran a placating hand down his shivering plating. “If you haven’t it can be really overwhelming, and-”
“I can handle it! I-I can!”
“Let me finish. It can be really overwhelming, and I don’t want you to hurt yourself further. Just… take a deep breath for me, okay?” You took a slow, steadying breath, and after a second he mimicked it. “Good. Just think about letting go, okay? I’m not going to judge you. Just think about it.”
He let out a low, pitying grumble, peeking at you from behind his arm plating. “...You can start again.”
Once again, your hands dipped into his chest cavity. Only this time you slid both hands up behind his spark casing, gripping as much of the broken metal as you could reach. As you rocked it back and forth Rumble’s moans returned with a fervor, one servo finally flying to cup your lower back.
“Ah! Ah! Slag, oh slag please! Please don’t stop I’m so fraggin’ close.” He fisted the back of your uniform, crumpling the cheap fabric between his digits. “C’mon, c’mon c’mon c’mon I need it!”
“Shh, I’ve got you baby. Just let it happen.”
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With a metallic shriek and a gush of brackish oil the shrapnel popped free, the force enough to send you sprawling if not for Rumble’s servo in the small of your back. Of course, said unexpected force also slammed the backs of both your hands right into the underside of his spark chamber, and Rumble’s voice box screeched into a wail of radio static. Something hot and sticky splattered up the back of your coveralls; said something you decidedly were not going to look at until later. His frame rattled and shivered beneath you, steam venting and joints glitching and spark pulsating a near-blinding glow.  Finally, after a burst of noise and sparks and twitching, he went slack beneath you, helm clanking against the workbench as his optics flickered.
As delicately as you could, you removed the oil-slick shrapnel and let it clatter onto the floor before shedding your gloves and dabbing at his face plate with the cuff of your sleeve. With the whir of an old monitor blipping back to life, his visor blinked back up to its standard brightness.
“Whuh… Wheh?” He garbled.
“How you feeling, hun?”
“Like I got struck by lightnin’... but in like a nasty way.”
You choked back a snort. “Well, I’ve got all the worst of it over with. Feel free to rest for a while if you need it. I’m gonna go change my jumpsuit.” 
He let you slide off his lap without a fight, not even commenting until you’d turned around to make your way over to your office. Only then did he let out a low, salacious whistle when he’d finally caught sight of the back of your uniform.
“Comm me next time yer free, doc. Then I can repay da favor.”
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zephyrchama · 3 months
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Movie Night with Diavolo and Barbatos
A self-indulgent fic (under the read more) inspired by the The Brothers' Hobbies Devilgram story.
SFW fluff, gender neutral reader, it's like 1.5k words long? I just threw together whatever because I wanted to imagine a cozy movie night.
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Very few beings in either of the three realms ever got to witness Diavolo or Barbatos in their pajamas. You were the lucky soul who got to see both as they guided you through the castle for a special movie marathon night. Sweatpants and a loose robe were a nice change of pace from the usual stiff-collared uniforms Diavolo typically wore. He excited donned the dragon slippers you gifted him once. Barbatos had his matching owl slippers on under a slimmer, flowier set of pajamas with matching button-up top and bottoms. The fabric looked incredibly smooth, with not a single wrinkle.
The room they led you to was dimly lit. The curtains were drawn so that starlight couldn’t shine through the windows, in front of which were various stacks of DVDs as tall as you. A plush three-person couch had been placed right in the room’s center, squarely in front of a projector that took up an entire wall. In the back of the room closest to where you all entered was a table piled high with treats. Most of it was an approximation of human world movie snacks, but Barbatos had clearly done his best.
"Are those nachos?" You asked. "Pretzels and popcorn... That's so many toppings... M&Ms!? Really? Are those real?"
Barbatos chuckled. "Indeed. Seeing your face light up was worth all the effort to procure them. Please, take as much as you'd like."
Barbatos and Diavolo went to claim their seats on either side of the couch, but encouraged you to take your time with the food. Diavolo clutched a half dozen blockbuster movies in his hand.
“Will you get a plate for me too? I can’t decide what we should start with.” He hummed and hawed, turning each package over to read their summaries.
By the time you were ready, Diavolo had made a choice and loaded up the movie’s main menu. You carried the heaping plates over with enough food for everyone. They each offered to hold them while you sat down.
There was not a lot of room to sit. Despite seating three, Diavolo could have taken up half of the couch by himself and Barbatos was being unusually liberal with how much space he took up. They happily motioned for you to take a seat, Diavolo grinning like a kid.
You sandwiched yourself between them as best you could, wiggling until your back touched cushions. It felt awkward basically distributing your weight over the side of their laps, but neither one made any outward signs of acknowledgement. It was very warm between the two demons. With your thighs brushing those on either side of you, you could confirm their pajamas really were soft. It was incredibly cozy. They both smelled like a recent shower.
“Ready?” DIavolo asked once you were settled in with your plate. “I thought we’d start with an action film to really kick things off on a high note. Let’s begin!”
The bright film cast a gentle light over the three of you. Every time something exploded or a twist occurred, Diavolo would whoop and laugh. He was a very expressive movie watcher.
“This is rather delicious,” he commented in a low voice after cleaning his plate. Diavolo leaned into your ear, bumping your shoulder with his own.“Mind if I try some of yours?”
“Feel free. Barbatos, you too.” There was plenty left, not to mention the entire table of food. Every few minutes his highness would pluck a chip or handful of chocolates off your plate. You realized shortly before the credits that it should have run out already with the two of you constantly snacking. Was it refilling itself?
You turned to Barbatos. His eyes were already transfixed on you instead of the projector, as if you were the night’s main event. “Is something wrong?”
You pointed to the magic plate. “Are you doing this?”
He merely smiled, neither confirming or denying. You softly nudged him in the side in appreciation as he whispered, “if there’s anything you need, just ask.”
As the action flick finally ended, Diavolo leaned forward to browse through the other movies. “What shall we watch next? Romance? Comedy?” He asked as you took advantage of the extra space to stretch.
“I believe romance and comedy often go together, so we could watch both genres at once,” Barbatos said.
“Oh! What about this? It’s very famous, right?” Diavolo thrust an old horror movie at you. You’d heard the name before and vaguely knew its plot, but never actually saw it.
”Yeah, everyone in the human world knows that movie.”
“Then we’ll go with this!”
He loaded it up, while Barbatos sifted through the pile and pulled out a disk. “Let us put this romance comedy on standby.”
The horror movie was way scarier than you thought. Weren’t old films supposed to have cheesy graphics and a now-overdone plot? This was gory and dark. Barbatos and Diavolo were actually laughing at the chainsaw-wielding maniac on screen. “Hilarious! I thought the comedy was after this?” Diavolo exclaimed. You realized once again that demons were not normal.
You put on a brave face and powered through the movie, intent on not ruining their good time. But a particular jumpscare caught you off-guard, prompting a shriek as you shakily turned away from the movie. That turned all the attention on to you. “Sorry, sorry. Don’t mind me, just surprised me,” you stammered.
“Do you find this scary?” Diavolo asked. “This silly thing?”
Barbatos apologized, saying “I hadn’t considered this could be distressing for you. I’ll turn it off immediately.”
“No, it’s fine! We can keep watching,” you insisted while diverting your eyes from the scene on the screen.
Diavolo grabbed your hand. “Nothing could possibly hurt you when we’re here. Isn’t that right, Barbatos? Why, I dare say you’re with the two strongest men in the whole Devildom. We could stop a thousand of these murderous humans.” His lighthearted smile was reassuring as always as he belted out another laugh.
“Would it help if we held your hands?” Barbatos suggested. It was a childish recommendation, but tempting nonetheless. “We could even lock arms, and if the film becomes too much, you can rely on one of us to block it out for you.”
That sounded agreeable, and you approved of it just to get their attention back to the movie. You were thankful the two self-professed strongest demons in the realm would be so accommodating for you. Though embarrassing at first, it did help to bury your head in one of their sides any time things got too horrific.
Any time you jumped towards Diavolo, he would wrap his arm around your shoulders and bring you in closer for a comforting side hug. He’d make small comments, “this actor is very good, does he have any other famous works? I wonder if they filmed this on a set,” so you could focus on the sound of his voice instead of the televised screams.
Any time you jumped towards Barbatos, he would cover your ears and bring your forehead against his chest. It helped to focus on the calm, steady beating of his heart until the scene ended. One hand would gently brush through your hair and down your back until you were composed again.
This film was thankfully shorter than the first one. As you excused yourself to the restroom, you heard Diavolo comment about how it was “too short,” with Barbatos agreeing it was “more fun than expected.” You hoped they really meant the movie, and not the way you acted.
Upon returning, Barbatos had prepared a large fluffy blanket.
“It’s getting quite late, and as you know the Devildom gets rather cold at night.”
You doubted you could get cold while wedged between these two on a sofa. Though, It did add to the movie viewing experience.
The third movie was, as expected, much lighter and more enjoyable. You could laugh along with them and at times explain aspects of human culture important to the plot. 
“If she doesn’t want her ex to show up, why doesn’t she just cast a warding spell? Such an easy solution.”
“Humans usually can’t cast magic. Until I got here, I didn’t even know magic was real.”
”Oh! Right.”
Maybe it was all the food, or the addition of the blanket, or the overall coziness of the situation. Your eyelids were starting to get heavy and interest in the film was waning. “Hey, I know we’re only on the third movie, but how many of these are we watching tonight?”
Diavolo stared at you. “As many as we can! We have all those.” He gestured to the massive collection by the windows.
”My lord, some will have to wait until next week.”
“Right, but the night is still young!”
You were at a loss for words. It had been five hours so far. “I don’t… Uh… I’ll try my best, but like, I don’t know if I can stay up that long,” you admitted. Did these two ever even sleep? They were in pajamas, so maybe?
“That is a problem.” Barbatos seemed troubled, unable to think of a solution that didn’t involve delaying their schedule.
“Well, let’s just keep going,” Diavolo offered. “It can’t be helped if you’re tired, but we can still get through what we can. I greatly enjoy having you here! Both as a friend and to clarify what’s happening.” He ruffled your hair before turning his eyes back to the screen.
Before you realized it, you were waking up from a snug slumber. You don’t remember falling asleep, only that you guys had finished the romantic comedy and started on something sci-fi with robots.
On the screen now was a documentary about birds.
“Oh, awake now? This movie’s getting really good, I think you’ll like it.” You were more focused on how nonchalant Lord Diavolo was acting about being your pillow. You quickly and apologetically lifted your head from his lap.
Barbatos had apparently moved you into a more comfortable position while you slept, as the lower half of your body was in his lap as well. He helped you sit up, “careful not to fall now. But yes, this film is most fascinating. Can I get you anything? Some water?”
There were half a dozen questions running through your mind, but the first one out was “what time is it?”
“6:15am, nearly time for the Young Master to begin his day.”
DIavolo huffed. He couldn’t fight the looming workload he had to deal with, so he popped a potato chip into his mouth instead. Despite your insistence that you would sit normally, the two of them equally insisted you lay down and stay comfortable for the remainder of the documentary. It was peaceful.
When all was done, Barbatos procured everyone a change of clothes and started wrapping up the food table. First pick of leftovers went to you. “Would you like to take it all?” he asked.
“Don’t think I can finish all that, but Beel can help me.”
Diavolo went to change in the other room, but called out, “There's still so much we have to watch, and I'd like to go back over the ones you missed! What do you say, same plans for next week? Same day, same time?”
That sounded good to you.
---
(Thanks for reading!) (bonus pic I wanted to put in the text but didn't want to interrupt the story)
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luciddownloading · 5 months
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Venus in the 8th House 🕯️🖤
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🕷️There may be a "familial curse" regarding the female lineage that needs to be broken. The mom's side of the family may be very female dominated but the women might be very troubled or suffer from abusive/controlling relationships
🕷️When you have this placement, please know the difference between "obsession" and genuine love. Venus in the 8th can draw very intense admiration or fixation from others. But, if you mistake that for love, you can attract some really toxic or destructive people.
Inevitably, with this placement, even the ones who truly love you will be highly fixated on you. But, it won't be only out of lust or a need to possess or control you
🕷️ The best way for you to know and build your self-worth in love is to avoid obsessing over your person. YOU also have to know the difference between obsessing over someone and actually loving them. If not, you can either attract emotionally/physically unavailable people who keep you in that state of longing or love interests who are very low-vibrational. Either way, this won't build your self-esteem.
This is to not say that you should become a self-obsessed person. Just put plenty of energy into yourself. Pour into yourself and only accept love from those who can pour into you, too, especially if you're a more feminine person. Because you have a tremendous amount of love to give and need someone to match that.
🕷️The more Venus in the 8th House people hold their incredible affection back for those who are willing to really show up for them and respect them, the more magnetic and irresistible they become.
The 8th House represents our power. With Venus in the 8th, you are very powerfully attractive, in many senses of the word. Your energy itself is super-attractive. But, when you are desperate or settling for disrespect/dissatisfaction/no-effort partners, you are not standing in your power.
🕷️Okay, so let's talk about the sex appeal of this placement because, yes, it is talked about all the time for a reason. But it's also very misunderstood. While Venus in the 8th CAN easily be that very alluring siren, there's often a deep seated fear or discomfort around playing that role that needs to be worked through.
Don't forget that the 8th House is also about trauma, triggers, intense fears. Unfortunately, a lot of people with this placement either experience some kind of sexual abuse or assault when young or were just sexualized way too early by adults or older people around them, which can be quite traumatizing in itself. They may even endure some sort of shame-inducing scandal involving sex. So, a deep fear around one's attractiveness or a subconscious worry about being objectified or taken advantage of settles in. If you have this placement, instead of sexing up your appearance, you may actually cover up or even try to desexualize yourself to avoid such a thing. But, even then, when you're doing absolutely nothing, you still get sexualized
🕷️I think a lot about Venus in the 8th can speak to the dark side of the feminine experience. Being treated solely like a sexual object. Also, you may fear just being dismissed as pretty or written off as having no substance. You may try very hard to prove that you're not just pretty or some nice person who can just be pushed around. There may also be trauma surrounding that, as some 8th House Venus people have been conditioned to either people-please or suffer abuse
🕷️ Because of the possible aforementioned traumas, it can be highly empowering for those with this placement to EMBRACE their sex appeal. Not just for the sake of being sexy but to take that power back; to own their sexiness and heal their relationship with it.
(Of course, if you have been abused or assaulted, therapy and genuine self-work is key, too. Because it shouldn't be about seeking validation through being sexy. Remember that it's not the source of your self-worth)
🕷️ Embracing a more feminine role, in general, can also be very healing and empowering; to know that femininity is a form of power, not weakness. If you're into men, this can open up your receptive power in a way that makes you even more enticing. If you're into women, this will give you much greater respect for them
🕷️You are very naturally seductive, especially toward your preferred sex. It's not always in a sexual way, in your mind. It's more about your ability to deeply connect to people and draw them in. BUT, it can come across in a very sexual way to others, whether you intend for it to or not
🕷️ Unfortunately, it is very easy to attract toxic feminine energies into your life, with Venus in the 8th, particularly women who are very envious, controlling or untrustworthy. If you're a straight girl or queer guy, you may deal with a female "bestie" or two who is actually jealous, nasty, and manipulative. Who may secretly want to be you or feels threatened by you and is subtly trying to tear you down because of it. Or, if the friendship ends, she goes on a whole smear campaign to try and "destroy" you (which will probably fail anyway because you're a bad bitch).
I'm not saying be paranoid or don't trust people. But, please be very discerning about who you let close to you. Someone may claim to love you while secretly hating you.
🕷️On the flip side, when you're vibrating high and using discernment, you could attract women into your life who are wonderfully empowering, fiercely loyal and deeply loving. You just have to choose what kind of energy you want around you.
🕷️ Speaking of which, if you catch yourself displaying jealousy toward others or a need to cut others down, work on that! An envious, hating-ass Venus in the 8th House person is a sorry sight, particularly because it's so obviously coming from a place of poor self-esteem. Mind your business, stay in your lane, and encourage the empowerment of others. Because that's a reflection of your own self-love.
🕷️Beauty is your power but this is not solely external. Some Venus in the 8th people could become hyperfixated on their appearance to try and maintain their power. Others could go the opposite extreme and claim to not care at all about their looks because they're not "shallow". The key is balancing an awareness of both your inner and outer beauty. To know you're equally attractive inside and out and that you should put effort into both kinds of beauty.
🕷️ People can react to you in very extreme ways because of your attractiveness. A lot of times, this is just dramatic idealization or feeling very intimidated or unable to act "normal" around you because of your beauty. And yes, some may just be very envious or triggered by you. Oh, well. It's their problem!
🕷️At your most powerful, you'll be able to turn any sort of hate directed your way into fuel for your self-love and self-respect. Especially if anyone is trying to make you feel like you're not good enough or attractive enough. No one can make you feel less than unless you allow them to.
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dallaji · 6 months
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Save some room for us.
♡ bada lee x reader / NSFW❗
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SUMMARY: This could’ve been a perfect night: it was your first time being invited to a sorority house party and you were promised alcohol, decent music and good company. So naturally, because nothing is ever truly perfect, your ex-situationship had to be a part of said sorority.
WORD COUNT: 7k
CW: ex-fwb, university setting, lengthy smut (like 50% ratio), both bada and reader are switches, relationship is the epitome of "its complicated", bada is a mess but please forgive her, author has never used a dating app before, kinda angsty?? hopeful ending though!!
AUTHOR'S NOTE: this was inspired by this post by @moonsvrse but it honestly spiralled so um, i'm so sorry if it's not what you hoped it'd be (╥﹏╥).
————— ୨୧ —————
It was almost comedic, honestly.
When Minah had invited you to her sorority’s house party with a hopeful glimmer in her eyes, you had said yes without a second thought. It wasn’t your scene at all, but you and Minah shared a Sociolinguistics class that became considerably less boring once you sat down next to each other. 
Usually a Saturday night was spent with your two roommates, eating at the cheap fast food joint around the corner of your shared dorm: you were always back in the comfort of your own room before the clock struck 11pm. For the sake of experience you decided, why not. Maybe you’ll finally get a taste of that wild university life.
Now, at 11:05pm, you were crammed into a sorority house with at least 150 other people: the bottom of your sneakers sticky after stepping in an unidentified puddle on the floor, speakers blaring whatever Spotify selected for the RapCaviar playlist that week, and a bottle of lukewarm beer in your hand. It was fine, though. Minah had introduced you to some of her friends who you had hit it off with quite effortlessly. One girl called Lusher couldn’t stop gushing over your outfit, though by this point she had knocked back quite a few drinks.
You were having a good time.
But it became comedic once you headed to the kitchen with the group of girls to grab more drinks and were faced with a ghost from a not-so-distant past.
Bada Lee was leaning over the kitchen counter, smiling sweetly at a girl chattering animatedly in front of her. She looked just as attractive as you remembered her. Perhaps even more so.
Naturally, your first ever house party had to be hosted by a sorority she was seemingly a part of. 
Really. It was straight out of a comedy skit.
Bada and you had met on a dating app about a year ago: you saw a picture of a girl standing tall in a dance studio while donned in a sweater, jogger and Jordans, and you had instinctively swiped right. You don’t know what Bada had thought of your low effort selfie - posing inside a coffee shop - but it must’ve impressed her somehow. You were matched by the end of the day. 
“fuck marry kill: han so hee, bruce wayne, me” had been her introductory line. And despite your answer (you had, in fact, answered that you would kill Bada), you did end up fucking after spending your first date at a dim sum restaurant. 
This was, coincidentally, right after she had confessed she wasn’t interested in anything serious right now. She had still wanted to meet you however. You were, in her words, “too pretty not to take out”. 
You didn’t have a lot of time to mull over the initial disappointment, because she was fingers deep in you later that same day; lips attached to your neck and a rogue hand fondling your breast. Regrettably, the sex had been ridiculously good.
Chin up, though! It wouldn’t be the last time. 
The second “date” was spent watching a schlocky horror flick in her small dorm, before you ate her out on the couch until she was shaking and panting underneath you; bad movie and takeout pizza long forgotten. What you had initially disregarded as an incredible one-night stand became a biweekly hookup for the 5 months that followed.
The both of you had set rules in place, though these were mostly driven by Bada: this was just sex. She didn’t have the time or the “emotional bandwidth” for anything serious. 
The problem was that the lines got blurred pretty quickly. After a month you had begun meeting up without the pretense of sex hanging in the air. You would rent some more schlocky horror movies together and actually watch them, popcorn propped up in your laps. She would wait up for you after class to go grab some coffee, even if her own schedule was mismatched. You had cooked chicken noodle soup in a pinch at her dorm when she was down with the flu. She would slip her arms around your waist from behind and call you her “baby” in the softest voice.
And yet, the rules were simple. There were no strings attached to this arrangement, and you would be reminded in subtle ways. While you knew how she liked her eggs in the morning and that she’d much rather spend her time on watching terrible TLC reality shows than studying for her finals, you had no clue who her friends were or what hometown she grew up in. Sometimes your text messages would go unread for days at a time, but she would still post on Instagram. Bada’s Tinder profile picture would change every now and then, despite her continuously finding her way back into your bed.
But it had been fine. The rules were simple, and it never really drove you to heartbreak levels of sadness. At the very worst you had been annoyed by her flakiness, but you enjoyed her company too much to ever mention it. 
That was until you woke up one day to find yourself blocked on Instagram, her account set to private without a clarification or even a final goodbye. You had sent exactly one text asking if everything was alright, but it never went through. Her Tinder profile stopped updating. The message was more than clear, and you were not one to chase someone down. You were much too prideful for that.
A few days after being locked out of her life, your roommate (who had taken it upon herself to keep tabs on your past situationship) showed you a picture of Bada wrapped around a girl who was everything you were not: where she looked soft, you were sharp edges; where she was exuberant, you were placid. And then everything clicked. She had met someone who made her want to go steady, and that person was resoundingly not you. 
You met your roommate’s eyes with such a forced indifference, it almost felt defiant: “Good for her.” You had mumbled, unpausing the TLC reality show Bada and you used to watch together.
Thus, exactly as she had bulldozed into your life, she had promptly disappeared. You, too, stopped using Tinder. When your friends asked about your dating life, you would shrug and say you didn’t have the time for it. But truthfully, the pit in your stomach became a permanent fixture whenever the topic arose. 
You carried on with your life; there were no “stuffing yourself with chocolate” or “locking yourself in your bedroom sobbing”, but the hurt you felt was akin to pulling back when a candlelight grew bigger under the palm of your hand. You felt slighted and confused, frustrated that she never felt an explanation was warranted. But perhaps this was your problem: putting expectations on a woman like Bada, who had never done the same for you. The rules had been simple, after all.
It had been 7 months since then, and you had genuinely not thought of the girl in a long time. Yet there you stood, frozen in the doorframe as Minah and her friends rushed into the kitchen. The way Bada was looking at the girl in front of her almost reminded you of the way she looked at you on that faithful first date. The girl in question, however, looked nothing like the girlfriend she had introduced to the world months prior.
You were normal about it.
So normal that you had traced your steps back unnoticed and hid around the corner with your back pressed against the wall. A guy you didn’t know gawked at you like you were a safety risk, but you were too busy trying to think of an escape plan to really pay attention.
“Bada! We were looking for you earlier— Wait, Minah, where’d your friend go?” You heard Lusher’s voice question.
“Oh? I swear she was just behind me.”
“Friend?” The familiarity of Bada’s voice made your stomach churn. You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me.
“Yeah! Don’t think you know her, she’s in my Sociolinguistics class— Seriously, where’d she run off to?”
“Sociolinguistics, you said?” 
You couldn’t listen to it any more: you downed your beer with a grimace, left the bottle on a nearby table and then pushed through the partygoers. The living room was currently packed with people dancing, playing beer pong or lazing on and around the couch. It was busy enough to drown yourself in the crowd and thus slip away from Minah’s searching eyes.
You found a free spot on the carpet in front of the television and sat down unceremoniously, legs crossed as the partygoers around you did not spare you a single glance; way more focused on things you weren’t doing. Like having fun, for example. 
You suddenly became much more conscious of how loud the music was. It was absolutely going to leave your ears ringing once you were back in the safety of your own bed. 
Fishing your phone out of your pocket, you sent your roommate a tentative text asking if she was still awake and could come pick you up. You would give it half an hour, you told yourself. If she didn’t get back to you beforehand, you were honest to god willing enough to call an Uber.
You kept track of your surroundings, dropping your head whenever you noticed Minah or her friends move around the room. You could’ve sworn they were calling for your name. Luckily no one else in the sorority house knew you, so your cover wasn’t blown.
It took 20 minutes.
You had been scrolling through your Instagram feed when a beer bottle was shoved under your nose. Flinching, as if you were snapped out of a trance, you looked up only to meet the eyes of the one person you had been trying to avoid.
Bada had come to sit next to you on the floor while you weren’t paying attention, and held out the drink with a soft smile. There was a point in time where you were obsessed with that smile, but right now it was ticking you off. 
“Hey there.” She sounded painfully nonchalant as if she were greeting an old friend, voice loud enough to be audible over the music. You suppose she was, if you were to have a habit of making out with people you considered old friends.
You felt like a cornered animal; your brain urging you to just get up, walk away and call an Uber, but your body remained frozen in place. You took the beer from her hand with little acknowledgment, breaking your shared eye contact, and took an immediate swig from the bottle.
“Hi.” You muttered bitterly, staring straight ahead.
“Never pegged you as a sorority girl,” She was still looking at you, smile unmoving as she brought her own drink to her lips, “Minah invited you?”
“Yup.” You popped the ‘P’, turning the bottle in your hand to keep your eyes occupied. “Could say the same for you.”
“I moved out of my dorm at the start of the semester. This place is much bigger, so the sorority formalities are only a small sacrifice.” Bada laughed good-naturedly, as her head tilted to the side to get a better look at you, wordlessly encouraging you to meet her halfway.
You kept your eyes on your drink, fighting the urge to ask her what the hell she could even want from you. “Cool.” 
“How have you been?”
Was she really going through all the steps of small talk 101? 
“Fine, what about you?” You took another swig from the bottle.
“Okay,” Bada replied vaguely, but the amiable smile did not leave her face, “What is it you did again- Political science?”
You tightened the grip on your bottle and scoffed, tongue digging in the hollow of your cheek. She knew damn well that you had a major in Anthropology. The smart thing to do would be to get up and leave, but you liked having a retort ready: something Bada had said she loved about you in the past.
“What is it that you did? Computer science?” You looked up at Bada, who was very much a Dance major. 
For the first time Bada’s smile faltered. Perhaps it was something about the look in your eyes or the combativeness in your body language, but it was enough to downturn the corners of her mouth. She put down her drink. “Sorry, I thought—” She began, suddenly unsure of what to say, “I was joking.” 
“I don’t know what you think.” You retorted plainly. The words, which were clearly not only meant for the current conversation you were having, hung in the air like a dark cloud. “Look, I didn’t know you were going to be here. So before you get the wrong idea—”
“I’m sorry.” Bada blurted, but her eyes were no longer scanning your face and rather seemed much more preoccupied with the sleeves of her hoodie, slender fingers picking at the fabric.
“You already said that.” You sighed, not letting up. You didn’t like the sudden rigidity in her posture, but it was hard not to feel like your anger was well founded. 
“I know you wouldn’t know I would be here. It’s not like I…” She glanced up at the ceiling and gestured vaguely with her hands. “It’s not like you would’ve had a way of finding out.”
You arched an eyebrow, quietly waiting for her to continue.
Bada pressed her lips together in a fine line, worrying the skin between her teeth as she pondered her next words carefully. “I’m sorry for the way I left things.” Finally, she turned to look at you, her eyes intense and pleading. For a second your mouth went dry, vaguely registering how close she was. You wanted to scoot away, but her stare was begging you to hear her out. “A lot was happening— A lot has happened. I was a complete coward, and so immature, I- I’ve regretted it since.” 
“You could’ve unblocked me any time.” You spoke slowly.
“I could’ve.” Bada agreed, scanning your face. “Maybe I’m still a coward. But then I saw you just now and…” Her lips parted as she mulled over her next words: “I don’t know. I just needed to talk to you.”
The bottle of beer was becoming lukewarm in your hold. You didn’t like seeing this Bada: guilt and shame written all over her face and shrunken into herself. It seemed completely unnatural to the girl you had come to know for those 5 months, who did everything but make herself smaller. You desperately wanted to tell her everything was okay, but you knew you would regret leaving things unsaid. Even now, when you think back to the moment where you found yourself locked out of all her accounts, you could feel your heart plummeting down your chest so vividly; as if you were experiencing it all over again.
“You didn’t owe me a lot,” You admitted, attempting to hide the quiver in your voice, feeling silly as soon as the words had left you, “but you could’ve said something. Anything.” 
“Yes.” Her voice was almost a whisper, eyes downcast. “I want to tell you everything that was going through my mind at the time but, maybe not now.” 
“Maybe not now.” You concurred. Not because you weren’t near desperate to know, but rather the timing didn’t feel right. You almost felt like she had to fight for the right to tell you what had happened. She should have to fight for your listening ear.
“You have actually been doing good?” Your eyes met again, and something about the way she spoke sounded hopeful; prodding.
“I’ve been good.” You replied, unsure of how to navigate the conversation any further. 
You had half expected her to get up and leave with that, perhaps deem this closure enough to go on with her night, but she stayed put. Bada took another sip of her beer, the way her shoulders sagged an indication of how uneasy she felt. Yet she stayed put. You took this moment to take her in with a more discerning eye: her hair loose and dyed in streaks as opposed to the blonde head of hair you had met her with. She was in an oversized t-shirt and baggy pants, bright tech sneakers carrying over the colors of her outfit. Just as she had been in the past, she was your polar opposite. You were all sleek lines, minimalism and soft colors, your belted loose-fitting dress pants not fitting the energy of the party whatsoever.
Then, you noticed something colorful on her forearm.
“Is that a breakup tattoo?” You blurted dryly, eyes glued to the intricate wave drawn on her skin.
Bada chuckled, holding out her arm with a smile. “Something like that.” 
“Never pegged you as the type.” You parroted the drawl of the same words she had used earlier, and Bada shook her head with a disbelieving grin. “When’d you get it?”
Her grin wavered, slowly morphing into something more calculating as she tilted her head to lock eyes with you once more: “About 7 months ago, give or take.”
————— ୨୧ —————
You barely noticed the doorknob pressing into your lower back as Bada held you down by your hips, your lips locked in a hungry kiss as the muffled sounds of the party downstairs thumped underneath you. Your fingers carded through her hair as she pushed her tongue past with a deep, shaky inhale through her nostrils. One of her hands came up to cradle the side of your face, deepening the kiss with the urgency of a starved person zeroing in on their last meal: if they wavered, it may be frisked away from under their nose.
The kiss was all spit and heavy breathing, mouths gliding together fluidly as if you had choreographed this in the past. Bada hummed approvingly into your mouth as your hands found the hem of her shirt and pulled upwards, eager to feel her bare skin again. She broke the kiss with a wet noise, albeit apprehensively, and let you tug the fabric off, leaving her in a mere sports bra. Your hands smoothed along her waist, reacquainting yourself as she licked into your mouth again without hesitation, now both hands cradling your face as if she was marveling at a treasure. 
A particularly eager suck on your tongue made you moan against her lips, and Bada parted the kiss with a smug grin, half-lidded eyes scanning your features in amazement. “Your turn.” She whispered, gaze back on your saliva-slicked lips. 
Before she could kiss you again, you crossed your arms over your stomach and pulled your sweater over your head, revealing a non-padded lace bra; the sheer fabric leaving little to the imagination. Something about the look in Bada’s eyes deepened as you both kicked your shoes off in a hurry, and she made immediate work of your belt: tugging at it roughly, your hips pulled forward by the force she exerted, before unhooking the clasp and throwing the garment on the pile of clothes left in your shared wake. 
She planted one hand next to your head, against the wooden door, as the other one clutched onto your waist with a burning touch, effectively keeping you in place. Her parted lips attached themselves to the crook of your neck and she let her tongue swirl against the patch of skin, drawing a quivery exhale from you. Baring your neck further, you allowed her to mark you up without a second thought, and she seemed to take that job very seriously.
“You haven’t changed.” Bada noted against your skin, her breath skirting along your earlobe. Something about the tone of her voice sounded delighted at the fact, and you felt your lower stomach warm up impossibly more. 
She kissed her way to your collarbones, your skin shivering at the sensation and letting your hands find purchase atop her shoulders. You let your head fall back against the door with a quiet ‘thud’, back arching when she sucked another hickey right above your cleavage. Then, her hands came up to your chest, squeezing your breasts together and watching the way your cleavage deepened. She bent over and licked up a stripe along the slit, tongue digging into the crease. You pushed your chest out instinctively, sucking in your lower lip.
Bada locked eyes with you as she brought her lips to one of your breasts, letting her tongue lap across the lace fabric covering your nipples. Your hand came up to tuck her hair behind her ear, your movements delicate as she licked at your other nipple, forcing them to stiffen under the heat of her tongue. Her soft hums reverberated against your skin, her thumbs digging right below the hem of your bra and skirting along your underbreasts.
Impatiently you brought your hand up to your back and unclasped your bra. Bada moved away, watching the fabric drop to the floor with a bemused expression, but her hands immediately pressed over your breasts in a possessive manner, kneading the flesh before locking your lips once again. Teeth clashed together, the desperation in both your ministrations making the kiss so uncoordinated you were both left panting. She nudged her hips against yours, writhing against you as your name left her lips.
Your fingers meaningfully hooked underneath the straps of her sports bra. “Your turn.” You mimicked her request from earlier, and she obeyed with a pompous grin. 
But as usual, she had to one up you with a burning defiance in her eyes: she hooked her thumbs into her pants and tugged them off, underwear following suit. Eager hands grabbed onto your hips again as she rotated your positions; your back facing the bed.
“Try to keep up.” She whispered hotly against your mouth, the two of you immediately turning into a mess of limbs and unfocused kisses as she steadily walked you towards her bed. 
The back of your knees hit the edge of her mattress, and you toppled backwards, barely able to register your new position before nimble fingers began unbuttoning your dress pants. Resting on your forearms, you raised your hips to give her easy access and soon enough she pulled off your final garments with haste; leaving the both of you completely bare.
You scooted backwards as Bada climbed on top of you, your arms instinctively wrapping around her waist as she leaned down to kiss your lips, her ass resting in your lap. You had no time to feel skittish about the state you were in, much too familiar with the scenario as Bada’s well acquainted touch found its way to your breasts again, rolling your nipples between her fingers. You missed this, but you would never admit that to her.
Suddenly, she parted the kiss to instead look down at you contemplatively. You tilted your head, a snarky response on the tip of your tongue before the palm of her hand pressed down right above your chest, halting your actions. Her eyes scanned along your figure ravenously, and you, too, took her in: she was somehow both lean and soft, her hair falling over her shoulders like a curtain, strong thighs keeping your hips in place. She was beautiful.
“Do you trust me?” She asked, forefinger tilting your chin upwards.
“No.” You replied honestly, not breaking eye contact.
She grinned wider, finding tremendous joy in your words before she climbed off of you. Leaning over her bed, she began rummaging through her bedside table drawer as you sat up, watching her curiously. You heard a clanging noise when she pulled something silvery out, hiding it behind her back before you could properly register what it was.
“Turn around for me.” She requested, and because you were all bark and no bite, you obeyed.
As soon as your back was facing her, you felt her gentle touch grab a hold of both your wrists, crossing them against your lower back. You felt the cold press of something sharp close around them and lock into place, and heat pooled in your lower stomach, immediately recognizing what she was doing. 
You looked down at the handcuffs wrapped around your wrists over your shoulder before meeting Bada’s smug grin and blown pupils: as if her wildest dreams had just come true. She looked like she was ready to devour you. 
“How many girls wore this before me?” You asked.
“Wouldn’t you like to know.” She responded blithely, letting your fingers tangle together affectionately as she pressed a sweet kiss on your bare shoulder.
“Maybe I would.”
“Why does it matter if none of them look even half as good as you do?” She gave the cuffs a playful tug, nuzzling the back of your neck fondly before moving to lie down flat on her back; a hand pressed on your shoulder signaling you to stay put.
“And how many girls have you told the same thing?” You wondered loudly, unable to hide your own smile when Bada laughed at your words.
“Seems I have a lot to make up to you.” Her hands grabbed onto your hips and she began pulling you backwards. “Get on top of me, baby.”
Once again you obeyed because, well, she did have a lot to make up to you. And the way she called you 'baby' had you dripping.
Through her guiding motions, you scooted back on your knees until they were pressing down on either side of her head; Bada’s hands immediately came up to smooth along your curves until she cupped your ass, watching the jiggle as if she was hypnotized. Her eager touch almost made you purr, and you instinctively straightened your back to move all your weight to your legs, opening up for her as your arms were inebriated by the tight hold of Bada’s handcuffs.
“Good girl.” She crooned. And then, her hand came down to slap your ass. 
You let out a surprised gasp but didn’t move. Bada hummed from beneath you, appreciating your responsiveness and letting her nails scrape along the back of your thighs, feeling you shiver under her touch. 
“Unfair that you’re still so pretty from this angle.” Bada mumbled, mostly to herself. She placed her palms on your asscheecks and parted them, and you bent forward ever-so-slightly out of instinct, sinking deeper into the mattress. 
Bada cooed and before you realized it, her hand was on you. Her slender fingers dragged along your glossy folds and coated your heat with your own wetness. You sucked in your lower lip, effectively muffling a surprised moan, but leaned into her touch all the same. Then, she blew cold air against you, gloating over the shiver that ran down your spine.
“So pretty.” She reaffirmed, bringing her fingers to her lips and licking them clean, her other hand spreading your folds.
You almost expected her to ask you to start begging: she had always relished in breaking down your rebellious defenses until you would desperately beg her for more. This time, however, she seemed just as keen as you - if not more - to get her hands on you. Saliva-covered fingers pressed back against your folds and she began drawing circles across them with a maddeningly soft pressure. A shaky exhale left you, hands curling into fists at your lower back as you slowly began grinding your hips against her touch, hoping to find more friction. 
“That’s it.” She muttered, adding more pressure to her ministrations and beckoning you closer and closer, her other hand squeezing your ass.
With a particularly deep rub, you moaned her name and sank lower, the strain of holding yourself up while she was driving you mad almost unbearable. Bada groaned underneath your weight, basking in the way your hips gyrated with your heat so close to her face and she rewarded you by caressing her thumb along your entrance; circling it with more force as soon as she heard you keen. You felt heat course up your spine, immediately chasing her thumb through the grinding motions of your hips.
Bada, who had already found your most sensitive spot, giggled; prodding at your entrance with a forced carefulness she damn well knew you didn’t need. With a high-pitched whine, as the circling of her fingers against your clit sped up, you arched your back, wrists tugging at your handcuffs in frustration as she continued teasing you.
Finally, her thumb pressed into you, the circling of her wrist against you not pausing and you moaned, pushing your hips out impossibly further until Bada had to give your ass another forceful squeeze, urging you to stay put. She fingered you with delight and you felt yourself drip under her care, but what really made you twitch dangerously was the feel of her parted lips moving along your hip. She dug her teeth into your skin and slapped your ass once more, your body flinching inadvertently causing you to sink down on her finger with more force. 
You knew you looked like a desperate mess, mindlessly chasing down whatever she was willing to give to you, but it didn’t stop you from whining out her name, your lower stomach clenching.
“You better not be close already, baby.” You were surprised by how out of breath and wrecked she sounded while you hadn’t even gotten to properly touch her yet. You once again tugged at the handcuffs and you heard her tut. “So impatient.”
She removed her thumb and you almost cussed at her, but were quickly shut up when both hands moved to your hips in a vice grip, pulling you directly onto her open mouth. A moan got stuck in your throat and you almost faltered, nearly falling forward but forcing your legs to keep you upright. 
Bada began swirling her tongue along your folds as if she was parched, hands keeping your cheeks spread as she groaned hungrily against you. Bobbing her head up and down, she lapped at you, tongue digging into your folds before giving your clit a sharp suck; over and over again. 
“Bada…” You moaned, head dropping and only having half a mind to wonder if anyone downstairs could hear you. You realized you kind of didn’t care when Bada was making the kind of noises underneath as if you were doing her a favor.
You had stopped moving your hips, too stunned from pleasure to even consider it, until Bada began forcing you to do so; tight grip on your hips as she lightly bounced you up and down against her mouth. You began rocking back, cursing softly when Bada slurped under you, drinking at the wetness she continuously drew out of you.
You then noticed Bada had spread her legs with a hum, her own hips gyrating against nothing as she ate you out. She was getting off to this, and you felt yourself go all the more insane with want. She was so wet and you wanted to touch her so badly, but your shoulders started to strain through the position you were locked into.
“Bada,” You started, but another eager suck made you cut yourself off with a moan. “Let me—”
She caught her breath against you, chest heaving, still insufferable enough to find the energy to say: “Be my guest.” 
She dug right back in, this time her tongue prodding against your entrance, purposefully leaving you a despairing mess in your handcuffs.
You didn’t want to give her the satisfaction of begging for a release from your confines so you dropped forward, face down and ass up, forcing Bada to sit up a little higher to keep her lips pressed against you. You heard her curse.
You didn’t waste any time teasing her, instead immediately closing your lips around her glistening folds. There was no need to toy with her, because her thighs twitched as soon as your lips met her heat, and you felt her moans vibrate against you. You sucked harshly on a bundle of nerves before collecting spit in your mouth and coating her with it, slurping around her breathlessly. Her thighs spread apart even further and you felt her lips falter against you, overcome with pleasure as she began grinding her hips up into your mouth. 
Soon you realized she was much closer than you had anticipated because she began sucking on your clit even harder, in complete and utter desperation, before digging her tongue into your entrance, nails pressing crescent marks into your asscheeks. You ground back against her mouth as you tried to keep a steady pressure on her, licking her with fast but deep strokes. You felt a familiar pressure tighten in your stomach and became involuntarily more erratic, muttering soft ‘uh-huh’’s to encourage her to keep going at the exact pace she was using on you. 
Bada whined against you, the muscles in her upper thighs tightening next to your head. “So close—” She gasped, and you closed your lips around her clit and began sucking. Simultaneously, she dug her tongue impossibly deeper into your entrance.
That’s what did you in: a moan got stuck in your throat as you felt your full body quiver at the orgasm that rippled through you. Bada let out a guttural moan underneath you, her thighs clenching around your head and toes curling as she shook incessantly. Rocking your hips back against her in a daze, she continued to suck on you through your orgasm as you lapped at her clit, soon enough the both of you shivering against each other from oversensitivity.
Panting, you dropped yourself next to her, your legs and shoulders straining from exertion. You were about to ask her to get the handcuffs off of you, until she crawled on top of you.
She was completely flushed, bangs sticking to her forehead, nipples perked and chest heaving as she pinned you down against her pillows, your wrists still pressed into your lower back. 
“Not done.” Bada managed to gasp out as she swept down for a needy kiss, your tongues meeting messily through parted lips. You did not know where she was gathering the energy from, but her hands were back on your hips to slide you further down the bed. 
She threw her right leg over yours and you immediately realized what she was trying to do. “Can you still cum like this?” She wondered coyly, angling her hips against yours before pulling your own leg up, hooking your heel over her shoulder.
Her hold on you was burning, almost having the potential to leave bruises behind, and you didn’t even know how you felt yourself getting wet all over again. The handcuffs were digging painfully into your lower back but you didn’t care, your lips parted in anticipation as Bada stared you down with such a deep longing it made your stomach coil. She twisted her head and pressed a kiss to your ankle, never breaking eye contact with you, before grinding her hips against you in a tentative manner; her folds gliding flush against yours.
You bit down on your lower lip as you felt her wetness grind against you, a quiet whimper slipping past and the smile on Bada’s face widened, eyes turning into crescent moons despite her own excitement. 
Yeah, you could still cum like this, and she knew it. 
She began working up a pace against you, first slow and deep, and then letting it build up to something faster. The way your mounds met each other had your eyes rolling back, soft moans falling from your lips as your hips ground against each other. Never once did her eyes leave you and you almost felt drunk off her attention, eyes falling shut as she hummed in pleasure.
The bed shook, headrest slamming against the wall over and over again with the quickening of her pace. Bada brought a hand to your breast, kneading it into her palm as she spoke lowly, her own eyes half-lidded in exhilaration: “Can anyone else fuck you this good?”
Your lips parted in a gasp, your desire so intense you didn’t even know what you wanted to say. You wanted to say something snarky, but the urge to burst into tears and tell her ‘only you can’ closed around your throat like an invisible hand. Bada’s head fell back as both of your hips moved impossible faster; her tongue dragging messily along your ankle in a complete daze as you panted her name.
“Answer me.” She gasped, the hand that was previously preoccupied with your breast coming up to grab a tight hold of your chin. And as if to prove her point, she began fucking you. Hard and deep, your body shaking with every thrust. 
Your brain was short-circuiting and you shook your head, eyes shut tight. “N- no…” 
Then, her hand moved to your throat squeezing lightly, but possessively. “Say it.”
Feeling her hips falter, you panicked and cried underneath her: “No one can fuck me this good!”
Bada hummed approvingly, picking up the pace again and sliding her hand to the back of your neck. “That’s my baby.” She leaned down, your leg still hooked over her shoulder and stretching along with her movements, yet the pace at which she fucked into you never wavered. “Stick your tongue out.”.
Disoriented, you arched your neck and obeyed, her own tongue gliding against yours in such a filthy manner you became lightheaded. Then, she closed her lips around the wet muscle with a moan, before meeting your mouth in a full kiss that was more exchanging saliva than anything else.
She parted and moved back, her hips pausing momentarily as she looked to where your vaginas met. Before you could object at her lack of movement, she lowered her head and slowly let her spit dribble from her lips and fall onto your folds. Immediately, she picked up the pace again, watching the way the added lubrication made the two of you slide together even easier. You couldn’t keep your eyes off of her.
Bada met your gaze with a wolfish grin and immediately switched gears to an unforgiving pace, the sound of wetness and skin slapping together filling the room as you couldn’t even register the music that was still playing downstairs. You felt the pressure in your upper thighs build up again at a dizzyingly fast pace, and cursed under your breath.
“Please…” You gasped as you threw your head back, unsure what you were begging for but writhing your hips against hers so frantically the message should be anything but unclear.
“Am I gonna make you come again, baby?” Bada panted, slamming herself harder against you.
You nodded, feverishly: “I’m gonna- I need—” But the words died on your lips as your lower stomach folded dangerously. You needed to come. You needed Bada to make you come. 
A palm flattened between your breasts as Bada leaned down on you impossibly harder, keeping you in place as her thrusts took your breath away. Without your body giving you another warning, you orgasmed a second time with Bada’s name in your mouth, legs spasming in her hold as she forcibly held you down; taking in every second of the ecstasy that overtook you with such a warmth in her gaze you almost felt yourself overcome with the urge to burst into tears again. 
“So beautiful…” She whispered. “That’s it.” Her hands caressed up and down your thighs, whispering praises into the air to will the heaving of your chest away, feeling your heartbeat under the palm of her hand. 
Finally, Bada dropped herself onto the bed next to you entirely out of breath with a self-satisfied grin, officially having spent the last bit of energy that was left in her. You watched her catch her breath with a fond gaze, wanting to reach out and hold her but being held back by the jingle of the handcuffs.
Bada snapped out of her stupor, almost appearing flustered for leaving you in such a state, and helped you sit up with a soft encouragement, promptly freeing you from your handcuffs. You felt a sharp strain in your shoulders as you shook them loose, a little dumbfounded when you noticed the red marks around your wrists.
Bada had noticed it as well and gently grabbed a hold of your hands, thumbs caressing along the bruises with a touch so careful it seemed she thought you would shatter. Slowly, she brought your wrists higher and began pressing delicate kisses against them. 
“Sorry…” She said, sheepishly, but you couldn’t find it within yourself to scold her. Instead, you looked back at her with a dazed expression, heart constricting in your chest. You hadn’t seen this level of gentleness from her before.
Leaning over her bed, Bada grabbed an unopened bottle of water and uncapped it before handing it to you. You accepted it wordlessly, her actions making you aware of how parched your mouth felt. 
Taking big gulps, you hoped to ease away the tension building up in your chest. Perhaps it was due to your post-orgasm state, but you felt anxiety spike up your heart rate as your head flooded with all kinds of thoughts. Was this a one-off? Was she going to ghost you again? Momentarily you felt like an idiot for even landing yourself in such a position, but before you could climb out of bed Bada flipped her blanket open.
“Tired?” She asked, picking up on how quiet you had become but assuming it was due to exhaustion.
You nodded timidly and crawled under the blanket with her, Bada slotting herself against you like a missing puzzle piece. Her fingers found the bruise at your lower back, where the handcuffs had been scraping against, and drew soothing circles against the skin. She mumbled something about having ointment for bruises, but the both of you were too slumped to get out of bed.
You nestled back against her despite the way your head yelled at you to take your leave, much too enthralled with the way her arm curled around your waist protectively. Bada giggled when she felt you snuggle closer and pressed a soft kiss to your neck, inhaling your scent with a hum. 
The music downstairs had stopped and the house seemed quiet, the last guests likely having left ages ago, so all you could focus on was Bada’s soft breathing which slowed down by the minute. Your own eyelids began to feel droopy, too, and right before the both of you fell asleep, you felt her hold on you tighten.
————— ୨୧ —————
Your eyes snapped open, heart hammering in your chest as you became aware of your surroundings. Bada’s arms were still around you, loosely, as she slept soundly next to you. It was still dark outside but you saw the early beginnings of sunrise setting in the distant sky, signaling it was the very early morning. As your hands came up to rub your eyes, you became aware of the ache in your wrists and mentally cursed yourself. 
This was easily the most irresponsible thing you’ve ever done: letting yourself be lured right back into Bada’s bed after she had passed you off like you meant nothing. You couldn’t believe how naive you had been; how enchanted you were by her every time. Staying here was setting yourself up for heartbreak, when she would inevitably ask you why you were still at the sorority. 
You needed to leave.
Images of the night you had spent together flashed in front of your eyes, and you felt your lower stomach heat up.
You needed a lobotomy.
Slowly you grabbed a hold of Bada’s arm curled around your waist, the girl still sleeping serenely and entirely unaware of your panicked state, and moved it off of you. You paid close attention to her breathing, which remained even, and then deemed it safe enough to crawl out of bed. Your legs were wobbly once you stood, the strain caused by the position you had underneath her from the night before hitting you like a truck. You winced, groggily looking around as your eyes got used to the darkness and trying to navigate where your clothes had gone.
Before you could move to the other corner of the room, you felt a hand curl around your forearm. You gasped in surprise, whipping your head around to find Bada peering up at you through sleepy eyes. Your chest constricted painfully. 
“Where ‘r you going?” She slurred, waking up slowly as the grip on your arm tightened.
“I…” You began, but the words got stuck in your throat once you saw the realization fall over her face. She frowned.
“Please don’t go,” Bada pleaded, voice much clearer this time though still hoarse with sleep, “Stay the night.” 
“Bada, I don’t know if that’s a good idea…” 
“Please,” She repeated, and she sounded so heartbroken you could die. “Let’s start over.”
You gazed back at her in wonder, trying to search her face for more clarity but all you found was too much. The look in her eyes was so vulnerable, so desperate.
She gave your arm a tug and whispered: “We can start over. Please get back in bed.”
You carefully moved your arm out of her grip, but she let go easily: not because she wanted to, but because she understood it wasn’t fair to hold you hostage. She wasn’t crying, but the way she looked up at you made you wish she was.
“I just- I’m going to use the bathroom.” You mumbled and immediately willed yourself to look away. You couldn’t take it anymore. 
Your throat closed up painfully as you walked to the other side of the room and bent over to pick up your clothes. As you pulled your underwear on, you felt Bada’s prodding eyes in your back. With the rest of your clothes in your arms, you walked over to the door without sparing her a single glance, unlocked it and stepped out into the hallway. You clenched your jaw to hold back the tears from falling. The room remained quiet. 
You found the bathroom right across Bada’s bedroom, and sat down on the shut toilet seat with your hands in your hair. You knew that you weren’t being totally unreasonable— so why did you feel like the worst, most cruel person in the world? 
With a deep, shaky sigh you pulled your phone out of the pocket of your dress pants: it was 5:30am on the dot. Your roommate hadn’t responded to your text message yet, indicating that she had been fast asleep the entire time. 
As you searched for an Uber in the area willing to drive this early, your phone dinged with a familiar notification. 
Tinder.
You forgot you still had that installed.
You tapped the notification bubble and a familiar chat room opened up; one of Bada’s mirror selfies staring back at you at the top of the screen.
Today 5:36am fuck marry kill: kim tae ri, dick grayson, me
A breathless laugh escaped you.
Suddenly, you were filled with a clarity, thinking of the wave tattooed on her forearm.
You were willing to take the plunge.
Slowly, you stood up, leaving your clothes behind on the bathroom floor and headed back into Bada’s room. She was wide awake, face lit up by her phone screen as she looked up at you in apparent shock and gratitude.
You crawled back in bed, Bada’s arms curling back around your waist.
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sourwolf-sterek32 · 1 year
Text
Baby Girl
Summary: You and Pedro decide to tell Bella about your pregnancy.
Pairing: Pedro Pascal x Fem!Reader
Word Count: 3.4k
Warnings: language
Part 1
A/N: This was a commission request and can be read as a standalone short fic or can be read as Part 2 of A Real Daddy? it is up to you. I hope you all enjoy ❤️
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Pedro had been amazing throughout your pregnancy. He stood by you through all the mood swings, the break downs, the 3am weird food cravings, all of it.
After he wrapped the filming of Gladiator, he had spent every free moment home with you. Neither of you had made the pregnancy public, only your immediate family members knew about it. You could just imagine how the internet would blow up if they found out that Pedro Pascal was going to be a real daddy.
His fans would go insane. Most of the fans would be happy for him, but there would always be a select few that would post hate on the internet. Those same fans who absolutely hated on you when you and Pedro made your relationship public all those years ago. It didn't really bother you though, his fans loved him and only wanted what was best for him, but you didn't want your unborn baby to receive that hate, and neither did Pedro.
"Good morning, baby." Pedro whispered, his voice rough and laced with sleep.
Pedro's morning voice was beautiful, and it was something that you still hadn't gotten used to in all your years living with him. His rough morning voice reminded you of The Mandalorian. It had that low rasp about it and paired with his sweet smile, you could never get enough of it.
"Morning, P." You replied, putting your phone down about to roll over and face him, but Pedro shuffled closer and wrapped his arms around you from behind, his hand resting over the pronounced baby bump while he placed gentle kisses along the side of your neck.
"How long have you been awake?"
"A while, the baby hasn't stopped kicking since 6am. It definitely takes after you."
"How so?"
"He can't seem to sit still for more than five minutes." You answered causing Pedro to snort softly.
"She." He corrected, his thumb rubbing soothing circles over the bump.
You both wanted the gender of the baby to be a surprise, but Pedro had been insistent that it was going to be a little girl. You weren't sure what made him believe it would be a girl, but you loved referring to the baby as a boy only for him to try and correct you.
"Well, she is currently pushing on my bladder." You grunted and Pedro chuckled softly, leaning down and placing a kiss on the side of your stomach.
"Be good for your mama." He warned softly, kissing your baby bump again. "I love you so much, mi hija."
You smiled, placing your hand on the back of Pedro's head, raking your fingers through his fluffy bed hair as he continued to whisper softly to your baby. You wanted to soak this up as long as you could because in a few days Pedro was flying out to do press for Gladiator.
He didn't want to go or leave you alone, but you didn't want him to stay behind just for you. Gladiator was one of the biggest roles of his career. He had worked so hard for this movie and put so much effort into it, even going as far as putting himself on a strict diet and exercise routine just to get the right look for a Gladiator. You were so incredibly proud of him, and you couldn't be the reason he missed out on doing press for this movie, he had to go.
"Okay, as much as I love this, I really need to pee." You eventually said, untangling your fingers from his hair as Pedro propped himself up on his elbow and looked down at you with those big, beautiful puppy dog eyes.
"I'll start making breakfast." He whispered, leaning down and capturing his lips with yours.
You kissed him back, "bacon and eggs?"
He smiled against your lips, "obviously."
-
By the time you went to the bathroom and had a much-needed warm shower, you found Pedro in the kitchen already starting on breakfast.
"Need a hand?" You asked walking over to him.
"I got it. Here." He said, placing a glass of fresh juice on the countertop of the breakfast bar in front of you.
"I'm gonna miss having breakfast made for me every morning." You commented, taking the glass and sitting down on the stool by the breakfast bar.
Pedro glanced over at you, a flash of guilt flickering across his eyes, "I don't have to go to-"
"P, we've talked about this." You said cutting him off, knowing what he was going to say. "I can't ask you to stay. You've worked so hard for this."
"But what if something happens when I'm not here?"
"Nothing is going to happen. The baby isn't due for another month."
"But-"
"Pedro." You said, raising your eyebrows at him.
"Okay. Okay. But you have to call me if anything does happen, alright? Anything." He insisted, leaning forward over the breakfast bar and grabbing your hand that was wrapped around your glass of juice and you nodded. "You're all I'm going to be thinking about during those interviews, you know?"
You rolled your eyes, "don't think about me. You're a Gladiator! Think about the movie."
"My girl is pregnant with my child, I can't not think about you, baby. It's gonna be a miracle if I don't accidently mention it during an interview."
His hand tightened around yours and your heart broke a little when you saw the wash of sadness in his beautiful brown eyes. Pedro was so excited and proud to become a real daddy, you knew he wanted to share that with people. Especially his co-stars from Gladiator that he gotten close with during those long months of filming overseas.
"I think... if you want to tell your co-stars, you can. I don't want to force you to keep this whole thing a secret." You eventually said causing his eyes to widen in surprise.
"But we agreed to keep it a secret for a while."
You shrugged your shoulders, "I know, but it wouldn't hurt to tell a couple more people, right?"
"Are you sure?"
"Positive."
"Can I call Bella then? We barely have any secrets between us, and it's been killing me not being able to tell them." Pedro confessed and your heart melted at his words.
You had been expecting him to say one of his Gladiator co-stars, but you should have seen Bella coming. Those two were like two peas in a pod. You absolutely adored Bella, and Pedro did as well.
"Facetime them. It's been so long since I last saw Bella." You replied enthusiastically and Pedro's eyes lit up before he pulled his phone out from his back pocket.
He held the phone in front of him, waiting for Bella to answer and a few seconds later their familiar joyful voice echoed from the phone.
"Hey, man! What's up?"
Pedro smiled, "not much. How are you?"
"I'm good. How-" Whatever Bella was going to say next got cut off when the smoke alarm in your house started to go off.
You winced, blocking your ears with your hands, but you could hear Bella asking what was wrong, their voice laced with worry as Pedro swore softly under his breath.
"It's fine. I just, uh, I burnt breakfast!" He shouted over the beeping as he glanced over the top of his phone at you with a guilty expression.
"I got the alarm." You said, resting your hand over your bump as you stood up from the stool.
Pedro's eyes widened, "no, no. Don't go climbing on any chairs to turn it off. I can do it."
"I'm not. I'm just going to use the end of a broom stick. I think I can manage." You answered and Pedro still looked worried, like just because you were pregnant you couldn't do a simple task. "The bacon is still burning by the way!" You shouted over your shoulder.
"Fuck." He swore under his breath, dropping the phone on the bench before he rushed over to the stove. You could hear Bella laughing through his phone above the loud beeping, finding the whole thing rather amusing.
You grabbed the broom from the cupboard and walked back over to the kitchen, lifting the end of the stick to the roof before pressing the little button on the smoke alarm, silencing the loud beeping.
Pedro sighed in relief at the instant silence as he removed the frying pan from the hot element. You put the broom down and reclaimed your seat on the bar stool, watching him in amusement as he switched the element off.
"Dude, your video chats are always so chaotic, I love it." Bella laughed through the phone.
"You just always call at the wrong times!" Pedro shouted from the stove.
"You're the one that facetimed me!" Bella shot back.
Pedro picked up one of the pieces of bacon with a pair of tongs and held it up for you to see. There wasn't much to see though because it was literally just a strip of burnt charcoal and you couldn't stop yourself from laughing causing Pedro to raise his eyebrows at you.
"Hey, I'm not the one who can't multitask. Don't blame me." You chuckled, raising your hands a little in defence.
"Is that Y/N I hear? I haven't seen her in months!" Bella said through the phone that was still abandoned on the kitchen bench face down, giving Bella a rather lovely view of the marble countertop.
Pedro put the bacon down and walked back over, picking up the phone and holding it in front of him so Bella could see him.
"Yeah, that's Y/N. She's laughing at my cooking skills. It's very rude."
"What cooking skills?" Bella teased and Pedro's jaw dropped.
"Ouch." He gasped, resting his free hand over his heart dramatically causing you and Bella to both laugh.
"How is Y/N going anyway?"
"She's good. She's good, ummm, there's... there's something we wanted to share with you actually."
"What is it? You guys pregnant or something?" Bella joked with a laugh, but their laughter died in their throat when Pedro panned the phone over to where you were sitting. "Wait, wait... no freaking way!"
You smiled, resting your hand over your very obvious baby bump as you stared at Bella through the phone, "that was a good guess."
Their eyes widened in pure shock, "I was just joking, I didn't think... Congratulations!"
Pedro walked around the countertop until he stood beside you, the camera now on you both as you stared at Bella's surprised face.
"Thank you. I wanted to tell you for a long time, but we want this to be a secret. At least for a little while." Pedro explained and Bella quickly nodded in understanding.
"That's totally fair. I won't tell anyone, I promise." They hurriedly reassured and you gave them a grateful smile. "You two are going to make such wonderful parents! When is the baby due? Wait, boy or girl? No, wait, do you have a name picked out?"
Pedro chuckled softly at their frantic questions, "no name yet, and she'll be due in a month."
Bella's eyes widened, "she?"
"We don't actually know." You corrected, glancing over at Pedro who just rolled his eyes. "He thinks it's a girl though."
"Oh, okay." Bella nodded with a gentle smile before realisation washed over them. "I'll be in the states in, like, six weeks time for work. Can I meet the baby?"
"Of course!" You replied causing them to smile brightly.
"I'm so happy for you guys. I gotta go online and find cute baby outfits!"
"Whoa, no, no. You don't need to buy us anything." Pedro quickly said, but Bella just shook their head.
"I'm not buying you anything. I'm buying the baby something."
"Bella-" Pedro started to say, but they cut him off.
"Sorry, can't hear you. The-the line is going dead- must be going.... through a tunnel." Bella responded, making their voice crackle for special effect.
"You're sitting on your couch!" Pedro exclaimed, pointing at them through the screen causing you to laugh as Bella grinned.
"I love you guys, bye!" They quickly said, not letting Pedro argue with them before Bella hung up the phone.
-
*Six weeks later*
You laid down on the couch, getting some much-needed rest.
Babies were so tiny, but so demanding. It wasn't like you hadn't already known that. You had to wake up at least twice throughout the nights to feed the baby but doing that on top of being woken up nearly every hour between feeds was something you hated.
Pedro, God bless his soul, would tend to the baby whenever it wasn't feeding time, allowing you to get some rest and you loved him so much for that. He had really taken being a new parent in his stride and never complained, even though you complained about being tired constantly.
You were half asleep on the couch, your head resting in Pedro's lap while he watched some old movie on television when suddenly there was a knock on your front door.
You winced at the knock, waiting for the baby to start crying from the crib in your bedroom, but after a few seconds of silence you sighed with relief when the crying never started.
"I'll go see who it is. Go back to sleep, baby." Pedro whispered, leaning down and placing a gentle kiss to your forehead before he carefully got up from the couch, shifting a pillow under your head before he walked over to the front door.
"Bella!" Pedro greeted happily a few seconds later before quickly lowering his voice. "How are you?"
"I'm great." They replied, matching Pedro's quiet tone, quickly catching on to the fact that the baby must be asleep. "How are you guys? How's Y/N and the baby doing?"
"They're good. Really good."
You could hear the smile in Pedro's voice as he spoke and you sat up on the couch and glanced towards the front door to find Bella stepping inside, their hands full of bags and a large takeaway cup of coffee which they held towards Pedro.
"You didn't have to get me coffee."
"I figured you could probably use it. You guys sounded tired on the phone the other day, but, uh, I wasn't sure if Y/N was allowed to drink caffeine or not while breast feeding, so I got her a brownie instead." Bella explained, handing him a small brown paper bag as well.
"She will love it. Thank you." Pedro replied sincerely, taking a sip of his coffee with a sigh of delight. "You remembered my coffee order?"
"It's not like it's hard to remember." Bella responded.
"His absolute abomination of a coffee order is hard to forget." You agreed, looking over the couch towards them.
Bella's head snapped in your direction so fast that you feared they had given themselves whiplash before they grinned, "I know right, what kind of psychopath has six shots of espresso on ice?"
You couldn't stop yourself from laughing at their words and Bella grinned walking over to you.
"I feel very judged right now." Pedro said, pretending to take offence.
"We are judging you." Bella shot over their shoulder causing Pedro to snort as he sipped on his coffee.
You went to stand up from the couch to give Bella a hug, but they quickly motioned for you to stay sitting before they plonked themselves down on the couch beside you and wrapped you up into a warm hug.
"It's so good to see you." You whispered, hugging Bella back just as tightly.
It had been too long since you last saw them. Way too long.
"How are you feeling? You look great." Bella complimented, pulling away as they looked you up and down with a gentle smile.
"I know you're lying, but I appreciate it." You laughed softly.
"I'm not. For someone who only just had a baby, you look fantastic." Bella insisted causing you to roll your eyes.
"You sound like Pedro."
"That's because I'm right." Pedro pointed out, walking over to the couch and handing you the brown paper bag. "Courtesy of our new uber Eats delivery person, Bella."
You smiled, taking the bag and placing it on the coffee table before turning back to Bella about to thank them, but didn't get a chance.
"I also bought this for the little one."
You watched as Bella pulled out a little stuffed teddy bear from the bag on the floor by her feet and your heart melted.
"When the baby is awake, can I meet them? I'm dying to find out if it's girl or a boy since you both are annoying and didn't want to tell me over the phone."
"C'mon, she's sleeping now. But you can see her." You said, standing up from the couch and heading towards the bedroom, but stopped when you realised Bella wasn't following you.
You turned around to find them still sitting on the couch, their jaw hung open in shock while Pedro just grinned at them.
"I was right. It is a girl." He said proudly.
"You have a baby girl?" Bella all but whispered, and if you weren't mistaken you thought you could see tears starting to rise in their eyes.
"You wanna meet her?" You asked and a second later, Bella sprung up from the couch and rushed over to you while Pedro silently followed, still sipping his coffee happily.
You opened up the door to your bedroom and walked over to the crib beside your bed and you were surprised to find that your baby girl was actually awake, her big brown eyes already looking up at you.
"She's so cute!" Bella exclaimed, covering their mouth with their hands to stop themself from shouting or crying, you weren't entirely sure which.
"Do you wanna hold her?" You asked, leaning down and gently picking up your baby girl.
"Uh..." Bella hesitated, glancing over at Pedro with a questioning look, like they weren't entirely sure if they were allowed to hold the baby or not.
"Go ahead." Pedro encouraged with a small nod.
You gently handed the baby over to Bella, making sure they supported her neck, but Bella seemed to know what they were doing, holding the little girl perfectly in their arms with a bright smile spreading across their face.
"She's so tiny." Bella whispered. "What's her name?"
"Lexi Verónica Pascal." You answered, resting your hand on Bella's shoulder as you looked down at Lexi in their arms who cooed happily when she saw you.
Bella's eyes widened at the name, looking over at Pedro who was leaning against the doorframe. He was still sipping on his coffee, but seemed to be on the verge of tears as he watched the two of you with the baby, a fond smile on his face.
Lexi began to stir in Bella's arms before her little face scrunched up and you knew what was about to happen, and a few seconds later her all too familiar cries filled the room.
Bella suddenly looked panicked as if they had done something wrong to make the baby girl cry, but Pedro quickly swooped in, putting his coffee down and holding his hands out.
"It's okay. I can take her." He reassured, and Bella was quick to hand the crying infant to him.
"Is she hungry or something?" Bella asked, watching as Pedro cradled Lexi in his arms.
"She was just fed earlier. I think she's just looking for attention, aren't you, mi hija?" Pedro whispered, looking down at his daughter.
The girl continued to wail hysterically causing him to wince and you chuckled softly before the three of you walked out the bedroom. Pedro began to wander around the main room of the house, whispering soothing words to his daughter to try and calm her.
You and Bella made your way back over to the couch and you pulled out the brownie from the brown paper bag that was on the coffee table and ripped it in half, holding the other piece towards them. The two of you sat on the couch silently eating while Pedro began to softly sing a song in Spanish to Lexi and within a few seconds, the little girls cries began to die down.
"He makes such a good girl dad." Bella commented, watching Pedro slowly walk around the house, rocking the baby in his arms.
You glanced over at Pedro, and he must have sensed you looking at him because he lifted his head and his gaze met yours from across the room. His lips twitched up into a gentle smile as he looked at you while he continued to sing softly to his daughter.
"He is the best dad." You agreed, watching Pedro with a warm smile. He really was the best.
-
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