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#and also became longer than I intended
m4delin · 7 months
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QSMP Purgatory Pissa AU
There is cannabalism in this.
This takes place in an apocalyptic world, around a city that's sorta floating/suspended in the air a good 100 meters up. The elite basically controlls the city, and both for them not wanting it to become crowded and for their own entertainment they gather a group of people (criminals, people with less power than them that they don't like, etc) and basically kick them out of the city.
It's hard to live outside, anyone who breaks away from the group tends to die if they don't get accepted into another one, but the groups that have survived are often suspicious of others so it's a rare occurance.
Doesn't help that those who survive out in the wilderness tends to have gone a bit insane.
Story-wise:
The blue group is the newest batch to the outside and gets greeted by a couple of people from green team who gives them the run down of the "rules" out here. Fit gives them the heads-up, to be nice, to avoid running into the red team until they're more on their footing. "They can be a lot to handle" as he says.
The blue group finds a place to settle down on and at first it seems to be going all good, making people question why it always seemed so bad to live out here. Then they get ambushed by a purple team but before there can be too much bloodshed there's a disaster that sends the purple team hurrying away. After everything calmed down, they still have to bury 3 bodies.
After that attack, they truely start to learn the rules here on the outside.
The first time Missa encounters someone from the red team is when he enters a cave system to escape an acid storm. He figures he can get some mining resources while he's at it.
As he enters a cave he spots another person in the cave already. Now, at this point he has heard plenty of horror stories about the red team from some tense trading interactions with other teams, so he freezes in place as the gasmask turns to him. Missa barely register the masked man shouting something and he's just frozen in place as the man sprints at him, pickaxe in hand. And as it's raised, obviously with the intent to strike, Missa closes his eyes and raises his arms around his head as if it would prevent him getting killed.
There's a loud crack and there's a brief but heavy silence as Missa realizes that the loud crack didn't come from his own head getting cracked open and then there's a thud as something heavy hit the ground.
Missa opens his eyes to see the masked man take a step away from him, the pickaxe falling to his side in a casual hold. He glances behind him to see an unmoving zombie. With a sizeable hole in the side of the head.
When he looks up again, the man is surprisingly far away. The last he sees of him is a pair of wings, partial feathery and partial skeletal.
So his first encounter with someone from the red team was terrifying, but he at least survived.
His next encounter with the red is the same man. And Missa isn't sure what overtakes him, but he gives the man his freshest food, as a thank you for saving him last time. The masked man gives him a look, not that Missa can tell through the mask, as Missa nervously rambles abt the thank you. But they part way without anything dramatic happening.
Missa himself doesn't really encounter other people from the red team though he do hear stories from his team members. And they sound terrifying and yet, when he meet the masked man for the third time, he's not exactly terrified, just more like nervous.
This time he's been out looking for any new crops that can farm when he gets jumped once again by acid rain. He digs down and stumbles into a tunnel. It's not a big tunnel, barely large enough for him to sit up. Obviously a tunnel that you mostly crawl through. When Missa finally gets his bearings he realizes that the masked man is staring at him. And then the man is leaning close and Missa becomes flustered as he presses close, but it's a brief contact and the man is leaning back again. Now Missa realizes that he had closed off the hole Missa had made as he tried to get into cover. Which was a good as Missa can feel the sting from where the droplets had eaten through his clothes.
They're staying in silence for a little bit until the man tries to talk but Missa can't make out what he's saying and then he removes his mask and now Missa is throughly flustered as he looks at him with a grin. The man introduces himself as Phil and the two talk a bit as they're waiting for the rain to stop.
It's a bit of a surprise when Phil suddenly puts on the mask again but there's no hesitation in digging out of the small tunnel. Outside they wave goodbye to each other and part ways.
They keep bumping into each other and Missa just can't see why people are afraid of the red team. Not only does he meet Phil several more times, but he do meet other from team red. Sure, they can be a bit odd but everyone kept talking as if they're are a group of scary induviduals.
It's not until there's a "hunt" of sorts that Missa gets to see just how terrifying the red team can be.
"Hunts" are an event where the elite from the city decides to send some heavily armored soldiers to kill some people from the teams because they think there's been too little killing between the teams.
Green and blue teams gets jumped when they're in the middle of a discussion of how to deal with an incoming big horde of mobs. There's a lot of fighting, but at least it's not a pure massacer.
At one point Missa is scrambling backwards to get away as one soldier is raising their rifle to shoot him, and then *something* throws itself over the soldier. Somewhere in the back of his mind he recognizes it as Cellbit and he's tearing into the soldier with his bare hands. And the rest of the red team is not far behind. With the help of the red team all of the soldiers gets killed (maybe some escapes) and they're safe for now.
Missa locates Phil through all of the people and finds him digging through the chest of one of the soldiers. And when he stands up, he's holding the soldier's heart in his hand. And he's staring at Missa and walks to him. He crouches in front of him and stretches out his hand holding the heart.
As Missa stares at the mask staring back at him, Phil pushes the heart closer and closer to Missa's mouth until Missa has it pressed against his lips. And as he stares into the mask's eyes he takes a bite of it, fearing what would happen if he didn't. H knows Phil well enough by now to know that the other man is smiling.
When Phil pulls the heart away, the whole red team is cheering. And Missa doesn't dare to spit it out so he swallows the bite he took.
(Missa doesn't notice how Cellbit runs over to Roier with another heart and does the same thing, the red team cheering even more. he can only stare at them as they grab some of the bodies and he knows it's for food)
Cue Missa having a bit of a crisis when he realizes that he still has a crush on Phil despite that.
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mellorine-dreams · 2 months
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Me complaining about how awesome Hancock could have been under the cut (TW for SA mentions regarding her trauma throughout the post)
Hancock is one of the biggest letdowns to me in all of One Piece. I’m usually a big fan of characters such as Hancock when they’re handled well. Characters who are SA survivors but still grow to be comfortable in their bodies. Weaponizing their looks is also an interesting concept to explore (when done right) in the context of SA since it’s a coping mechanism a good portion of SA survivors use. The way Oda also briefly explored such a proud woman and the shame she still feels for being abused, and how her trauma still affects her reasoning and personality in the present, is something that was intriguing to me at the introduction of her character. It showed some complexities to her that could have been expanded on further and eventually be solved in a legitimate manner, and would have showcased how good Oda’s character development can be.
But her whole character, almost every defining trait of hers, all the shame and pride that helped introduce her character, is completely wasted with how quickly she falls for Luffy. A person who is still so traumatized after SA usually doesn’t fall that hard and quick, since trauma usually changes a person’s outlook on sexuality and relationships (romantic or otherwise). And even if they do fall for others, then they’re usually still on edge and mistrusting of them, so it takes a lot of time and work from all involved parties to truly bond with their partner(s). The way her feelings and idealization towards him is treated as humor is another bad OP gag that’s in poor taste. Plus, he was a minor at the time and she was 29 which just cheapens her character even more given the weird dynamic it exudes with how she was abused as a child.
Sighs what she could have been </3
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userlaylivia · 8 months
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you know s2 of the 100 will always be my favorite season, it was brilliant and the writing was absolutely incredible and I don't think any season will ever top it but saying that, S4 does come close!!! it was exciting and the writing was good and the storyline of trying to save everyone was so good and bellarke actually interacted most of the episodes maybe that's partly why I loved it lol also loved s6 though mostly for bellarke but also the storyline was decent! i understand why some didn't like s5 it wasn't my favorite but I never would've wanted the 100 to be cancelled before s6 because some of those bellarke moments in S5&6 were incredible and 6x10 is one of my favorite episodes and if we hadn't had that episode I would've been so sad!! jroth is a petty pos they wrote a scene where bellarke got together in 6x11 then he changed his mind because he sucks and they did a total 180 and rewrote it ugh anyone that watched the show and didn't think bellarke was leading to endgame was in denial truly!! all the foreshadowing, all the parallels and quotes about love and etc they were supposed to be endgame end of the story! whether you hate them or not it was supposed to be them together!! I got off topic I always do because I'm so upset and angry they weren't endgame but yeah!! I'm actually on the S4 finale in my rewatch and I genuinely did love that season for more than just bellarke but yeah!
also s7 doesn't exist bye lol
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xing-hua · 6 months
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#hey sol do you think if luocha was actually emanator of abundance bladie wouldn't have to watch him age and die like df had done for yx#I'm just thinking thoughts and one of them is blade noticing lulu getting grey hair and worrying about it#'find a way to kill me so i can die when you do'
@boyslit WHY MUST YOU HURT ME IN THIS WAY, but also, yes???? having him flip from "i have no desire to live" to "i have no desire to live without you" (in my head they have had (i have written 💀) a conversation where lc admits that if he could, he would ask blade to promise that lc wouldn't outlive him so i'm very ‼️ about this) would just be so HHHHH
we all know blade has Too Many Feelings for his own good so they would they absolutely would Be This Way
not to mention the idea of lc being an emanator and bladie being so conflicted about it is just so. 👀👀👀
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niniane17 · 3 months
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So I finally watched Saltburn. Spoilers, I guess? Whatever.
Why didn't anyone tell me what it was about? I thought it was some smutty teen movie about a crush! And there I was, thinking that my decade-long hyperfixation with the zombification process would never come in handy!!!
The rest is under the cut because it's a long read.
(As if anyone will care LOL)
I'll be honest and say I watched it mostly because I read somewhere it was a teen movie set in 2007 about a bunch of teens, and guess who also was a teen back then? I even visited Oxford in summer 2006. Though people had long forgotten Murder on the dancefloor. I think the hit was I don't feel like Dancing. Rosamund Pike was still known as Jane Bennet to most people, and she was in London starring in a Tennessee William's play -I know because I had a leaflet, and I think I have it somewhere still. Oh those were the days!
But in the end, I'm glad I didn't know a lot about it, so I could enjoy with fresh eyes and no preconcieved notions, which I did, up to a point. Then I stopped.
Please note that I will only described the themes here, because if I were to nitpick the plot (especially its insane timeline) I may never finish. Though I do wish we'd seen the dialogue between Lady Catton and her lawyers at the end: I may buy her being stupid enough to give away her inheritance to some kid she knew years ago, but I absolutely don't buy her legal firm accepting it.
Ehm. Anyway.
It has been described as a "eat-the-rich" film, and in a way it is, in the same way The Witch is about female empowerment.
As I said before, much of the audience's confusion towards that movie comes from the fact that we see women's liberation and empowerment as a good thing, whereas the folktales clearly depicted it as a bad thing. The same thing happens here.
The protagonist does, in a way, eat the rich people around him, or rather he drinks them, since it mostly uses the vampire metaphor, but it's not supposed to be a good thing. I've read somewhere it's supposed to be "ambiguous" but no, sorry, there's nothing ambiguous about it. The upper class is depicted as stupid and kind of rude, but ultimately harmless. Most notably, we don't even know how they made so much money, though it's hard to belive they made it by being silly and harmless.
In contrast, Oliver lies all the time, and the big twists* about him are that he faked his poverty, revealing a wallet full of money (because if you have money in your wallet or even bank account that means you can spend it. Budget? What's that?) and that he faked his interest for Felix, at least initially. Perhaps he did come to love him eventually, but his desire is always tied to creepy or downright necrophilic acts, showing that for him, they're one and the same. The representation is crude, but the message is clear: the only way two members of different classes can be equal and in a loving relationship is if one of them is dead, and if you allow any mingling between the classes, lower one will absorb the upper one until there's nothing left of it.
Yeah, well, I don't care for that, to say the least.
I do understand the movie is symbolic, it's not like they're trying to hide it: there are vampires, doppelgangers, ghosts, fairies, minotaurs, pagan gods, and so on. I was sad for a moment there were no zombies, but then again, it's better this way: zombies represent undenturent servitude and slavery, and this is a movie where being faithful to your master is shown as a good thing. I really don't want to see a story where a Zombie Master is the good guy.
(You know you hit rock bottom when fucking D&D are better at themes than you)
So yeah, I do get it Oliver is a symbol. It's just that I think he's the symbol of something awful, right from the Victorian Era, with all its anxiety and fears about social mobility. It may be wrapped in a shiny package to appeal to young people but the content is reactionary and very dangerous.
Besides, even at a symbolic level, it's a failure: even the evilest vampire is made, not born. Who turned Oliver first? And where is it? Is it still out there, haunting Britain, Europe, and possibly the world, like a ghost? Nobody seems to care.
(Yeah, that's another thing: the upper class screaming for help because they're hunted by ghosts. Yeah, well, I sure hope you are. The question is by which)
(No, I'm afraid Dickens won't be of any help this time. Trust me, he really won't)
It isn't even that I don't understand the fear of being preyed upon and sucked dry by people close to you. I do, and it's even happened to me. But in my experience, the relationship with those people tend to complicated and very difficult to parse. In a way, it's almost a comforting fantasy thinking of them as machiavellian geniuses out to get you, rather than people who have their own shit going on who just don't care about your feelings as you care for theirs. Or who just don't like you as you like them.
Speaking of which, I've seen people argue this is not a story about class but rather about shitty individuals, but it doesn't work. Just like Eggers' Witches are inextricably tied to their gender, and the horror comes from the difference between how women ought to behave and how the witches behave, Oliver's deeds are tied to his middle class extraction, and the horror comes from the difference between what he does and how he ought to behave instead.
And the members of the "lower class" do know how they should behave: indeed, towards the end we see Oliver being looked at with disgust by the manor's servants, and the butler is very antagonistic towards him. Tellingly, the movie's original ending showed Oliver being served the same breakfast he had refused at the beginning, symbolizing the fact that for the working class he will always be an usurper who may have inserted himself into the upper class but doesn't have the "right blood". I guess this was a little too much even for them.
Finally, it costs me to admit it, but even those filthy rich people have to work, or at least some of them do. The illusion of living a carefree life full of leasures is just that, an illusion. Once Oliver's dance is over, he's got a shitload of work ahead of him, possibly for the rest of his life. If he were a true-born (lol) parasite, that would scare him shitless.
I did like the deer costume though, it was neat. I also liked the dance, but I would have chosen Can't touch this instead.
TL; DR: Watch The Talented Mr Ripley instead. And then watch US by Jordan Peele. Ok it's set in a different country with different politics and blah blah blah, but at least it knows what story it's telling and also zombie metaphors are so much better for these things. Also I'd recommend The Shadow by Andersen too. It's a nice story that predates a lot of the modern doppelganger ones.
*Get it??? Oliver's Twists???? No but really, of all the literary references this is the one that makes the least sense. It just so happens that Dickens did, in fact, write about a villain focused on slowly evicting his master from his house in a parasitic way, and he was also compared to a vampire (and a zombie too, though Dickens doesn't use that word of course. And I think there's some ambiguous shit going on with him too, if you know what I mean). The difference is that Dickens, as a member of the middle class, wants to protect the middle class' interests so he depicts the working class member as the evil parasite. I guess what goes around comes around.
Couldn't anyone just...I don't know, google all this shit? It's not like Dickens is some unknown writer. I also don't think the Midsummer Night's Dream references were relevant, but I guess Othello would have been too obvious? IDK. Slutty fairies are cool, though.
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juicyreptile · 11 months
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A fun concept: The moment Ambrosius turned 18 (and possibly even beforehand) he had DOZENS AND DOZENS of people ask for his hand in marriage. He turned them down as politely as he could (because he was head over heels for Bal but they hadn't started dating yet) but it gets tiring very quickly until in frustration and as a joke he says
"I'll only marry whoever can best me in single combat."
other people took this VERY SERIOUSLY and it became an actually Thing that was like, televised. Like there was a whole series of "The Fight to win Ambrosius's hand in marriage" and while it was supremely embarrassing, it was also incredibly satisfying to beat the shit out of random people who thought they had a chance with him
(doubly moreso after him and Ballister started dating in secret) A whole set of rules and regulations and like, preparations for this one thing. It certainly dies down after the first like 30 people are thoroughly trounced to Ambrosius's relief
Then the whole thing with Nimona happens and it takes a while to settle down. After making up and rekindling their relationship, Ambrosius and Ballister are out on a date one day and Ballister casually says, "Hey, marry me?"
Ambrosius, as a joke and knowing full well that Bal can, will, and has kicked his ass, says, "Beat me in single combat first" before taking a drink, intending for Bal to interpret that as a yes
And Ballister says, "Alright, " making Ambrosius choke on his drink and cough up his lungs while Bal panics and pats his back
The incident is promptly breaking news all over thr kingdom. It's been a while since the last time the "Fight for the Right" happened and the whole thing becomes an even bigger event than it ever was.
Ambrosius keeps insisting to Bal that he was joking, the answer was Yes of course ill marry you, you dont have to do this you fucking ridiculous man but Ballister just keeps giving him a smirk and going "no i have to follow the rules like everyone else did" and Ambrosius loves him so much but he's also very tempted to strangle Bal for putting him through this
the Duel happens and Ambrosius puts forth all his frustrations about the whole thing into the fight which takes SO MUCH LONGER than any other fight and also absolutely gets his ass handed to him.
He's flat on his back and sweaty and bruised and Ballister is just smiling and then hauls him up and kneels and pulls out a ring and Ambrosius is crying and then they're kissing
later, Bal says, "you know, if you wanted me to kick your ass you could have just asked normally" and Ambrosius starts to lovingly plotting his murder
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zylev-blog · 2 months
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Danny had been sent across the dimensions to correct the flow of time more than once. He had stopped zombie invasions, a robot named vision, saved Ancient Greece(and somehow became a minor diety in their religion), and much more. With each new mission he learned a lesson, which was what Clockwork had intended for him. He learned compassion, empathy, and kindness, but he also learned bravery, how to be cunning, and how to outsmart the enemy. Over the last few years his Fenton genes kicked in, making him a tall 6”6, and he was still growing. It had gotten harder to blend in as a human as he came into more power than he had had as a teenager, but he was managing.
Clockwork had let him have some time off to himself, so he headed to one of his favorite dimensions, a Justice League timeline. He was strolling around Central City, watching Flash zooming around taking out bad guys. He didn’t need to help; Flash had it completely under control and he would only get in the way. He could admire Flash’s resilience and bravery as he took down the big bad of the day.
It took longer than it should have, but Flash eventually noticed his presence. He stopped running, coming to a halt beside Danny, looking his ghost form up and down, as if assessing his threat level.
“What’s up?” He asked casually.
“Not much,” Flash responded with a shrug, “Just normal things.”
He nodded. “I see.”
“Do you want to get dinner after this?” Flash offered.
He blinked in surprise. Did Flash just ask him out on a date?
“Sure, I’m not busy.” He grinned.
Flash rejoined the fight with renewed energy, seeming more like he was showing off than fighting. He chuckled to himself. This should be interesting.
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dallaji · 8 months
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Hope we make it to the Cloud.
♡ bada lee x idol!reader / NSFW❗
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SUMMARY: Amidst an identity crisis, you try to adequately prepare for your solo comeback. The lyrics have already been perfected, the song recorded and the visuals pinpointed. However, your creative team is not fully convinced by the choreography you came up with. They decide to send over one Bada Lee to help you finetune your jumbled ideas and bring harmony to your vision. You just have one specific request: the routine must include a trampoline.
WORD COUNT: 10k
CW: eventual smut, bada is 100% a giver and not a receiver in this jsyk (but i promise it makes sense in context), hinted voyeurism.
AUTHOR'S NOTE: this was meant to be pure smut but it became much longer than i intended ... oops for that . . . lets just roll with it!!1 also the choreo described is heavily inspired by tinashes bouncin.
- you don't care about those 7k words worth of boring build up? skip to this line: <After ten minutes of complete silence, Bada was the one to speak in a hushed voice: “What happened?”>
————— ୨୧ —————
The first thing you notice is how surprisingly gentle her voice is. 
“I’m Bada, it’s nice to finally meet you.”
Bada Lee stood tall in front of you, clad in an oversized jersey, cargo pants and a cap hugging her forehead in such a way her eyes were entirely obscured from your view. She promptly bowed after she spoke. Unsure where to look, you dropped your gaze and followed suit; vaguely aware of her seniority and bowing deeper.
“It’s nice to meet you too,” You tried to keep your own voice as neutral as possible, but agitation bubbled in your chest as you felt your manager’s prodding, eager eyes behind you. “Thanks for being here.”
Your team was much more excited about this collaboration than you were.
None of the aggravation you felt was Bada’s fault. It had been three weeks of your creative team dismissing every choreo draft you came up with: Three weeks of sleepless nights at the dance studio, tiring out yourself and your background dancers. Three weeks of browsing through videos sent in by other choreographers across the country, attempting to mix bits and pieces together but none of it ever feeling right. Three weeks filled with reminders of a deadline looming over your head. Three weeks of your team letting you know they had little confidence in this comeback. Your last attempt at showing them what you had come up with had ended up in a shouting match. Your manager, who you otherwise got along with just fine, bluntly stated that, perhaps, this concept simply wasn’t something you could pull off.
It had left you feeling betrayed. Your creative team had agreed it was time for you to approach a more mature concept, something that you felt was years overdue. But it seemed their definition of mature and yours were wildly different. You had worked hard on perfecting a set of songs to choose from, but you immediately butted heads with the rest of the team. You wanted to do the bouncy and playful R&B track. Your team wanted the EDM track. Eventually they relented, but now seemed hellbent on making it as difficult as possible for your vision to come to fruition. Putting together the visual board for the concept photos and the eventual music video was a similarly arduous process. You had to meet in the middle and sacrifice a lot of your initial ideas, but that procedure was almost pleasant compared to what you were dealing with in regards to the choreography.
Every idea you put forward was promptly shut down. Too complicated. Too boring. No TikTok challenge potential. Too sexy.
And maybe it was true. Your formations weren’t as clean as the ones thought up by a professional choreographer, but you weren’t really given a chance at all. It wasn’t like you were a bad dancer either. Far from it. You picked up choreos incredibly fast and had always played an active part in brainstorming past routines alongside your background dancers. You had more experience than most of your peers, yet you were treated as if you were still the same teenaged trainee from years ago.
“Is that really how you all feel?” You had whispered after your manager dropped that bombshell, searching for an answer in the facial expressions of your creative team. Most of them were not even willing to meet your eyes. “We just need to be realistic.” Your manager stated matter-of-factly. “That other song is still an opt—” “I am not changing the song.” You cut him off. Momentarily, your manager looked like a fish on dry land, gasping for air. “Sorry.” You added quickly, albeit a bit flustered. “Look,” He sighed, “We can do mature without shocking the nation. Let's keep it mild for now and maybe after two or three more singles, you can go all out.” “I haven’t been 18 in years, you know.” You retorted bitterly. Something inside you understood where he was coming from, but you had been obedient since your debut- how much longer should you wait? You didn’t want to sacrifice any more of your creativity, so many years into your career. You had even seen one of your own concepts go to a labelmate instead, your own team dubbing you too “youthful” to pull it off.  “Okay, how about this,” He began with a frown, “Let us pick one of the choreographers’ drafts for you. You can finetune it with their guidance.”
Their pick had been Bada. You hadn’t even realized she sent in a draft: at one point you were so overwhelmed you just stopped checking your emails. You also hadn’t bothered to watch it before this meeting. You were genuinely too deep in your feelings about that whole ordeal for that. However, now that she was standing in the studio, tall height towering over you, you couldn’t help but feel a little self conscious. 
You had seen Bada around.
After all, she had worked with many of your labelmates before. You had also watched a fair amount of her videos. She was one of the best in the business, and whenever you had downtime to practice freely you scrolled through her routines on Youtube to help stay in shape. As you were facing her, even with half her face hidden, you understood why everyone was so stricken with her. When she had walked into the room she oozed with authority, though not in an obnoxious way.
“Great!” Your manager clapped his hands, effectively breaking your train of thought. “Thank you so much for supporting us, Bada. Shall we jump right in?”
“Sure,” She nodded eagerly, hands wringing together as her body turned towards you. “I kind of wanted to see what you had in mind for this choreo.”
That surprised you, and you were certain your facial expression wasn’t hiding it. Your manager held his breath. “Oh! Well—” You chewed on your lip as you vaguely motioned the corner of the room, trying to find the words. “I wanted to use… I wanted to use a trampoline.”
Bada immediately turned her head to follow your gestures, her eyes landing on the mini trampoline set up in the studio. “A trampoline?” In the background, your manager heaved a sigh.
You purposely ignored him and nodded, slowly: “I can show you, if you want.” You had hoped that sounded more self-assured to her than it did to you.
Bada scratched her chin, still looking off to the trampoline, and then nodded along with you. “I’d love to see it.” 
You felt the tension in your chest ebb away. There was no malice to her tone; she seemed genuinely curious.
Then, Bada turned her head towards your manager, her ponytail falling off her shoulder. “I hope I'm not imposing but, I would like this to be a collaborative effort between the two of us. I think it would take the pressure off if you…?” She trailed off with a kind smile, one impossible to say no to.
As if he got doused with cold water, your manager stood up with an urgency. “Privacy! I can give you two some privacy, no problem!” He fussed around, gathering his things. “Just let me know when we can sit in on the finished product.”
The both of you bowed to him as you bid your farewells, watching him leave the studio with a wave. Once the door shut behind him, you could feel yourself exhale in relief. You knew that if your manager was going to sit in on every practice, he would go out of his way to shut down all of your ideas. Without him around, you had more opportunity to champion your vision- at least, you hoped so.
You craned your neck, looking up at the ceiling, before letting your eyes fall shut with a sigh, almost forgetting there was another person in the room.
“They’ve been on your case, huh?” 
Bada's soft but clear voice broke you out of your spell, and you turned your head to search for a glimpse of eye contact. Tough luck, as her hat was still in place casting a shadow down her face. There was, however, a knowing smirk playing across her features.
“You have no idea.” You muttered honestly. Bada laughed.
“I don’t want to make you dance a routine you don’t fully stand behind. I did mean it when I said I want this to be a collaborative effort.” Bada spoke carefully, but sincerely, her fingers once again intertwining. “I always wanted to work with you, so it’s an honor.” She added.
If you got a penny for every time you were caught off guard today, you could set some humble savings aside for an early retirement.
It is true that you’ve been sought after, but it wasn’t something you had ever internalized. Hearing it come from someone who herself was heavily sought after, made your face heat up.
“T- thank you. It’s an honor to work with you too.”
She bowed her head humbly, glancing over to the corner of the studio again where the trampoline sat, waiting. “Do you feel comfortable showing me what you have been working on?”
You nodded and rushed to the corner to set up your speaker, and then dragged the trampoline to the center of the room. You were oddly aware of your own presence, and almost felt the urge to make yourself smaller as you moved around. In the meantime, Bada was getting comfortable: she had dropped her things on a nearby table and left out a bottle of water. To her it must be a regular working day, but to you this felt scarier than getting up on stage.
Once you stood behind the trampoline, facing the wide stretched mirror filling up one side of the room, you stole a glance at the choreographer who was now crouched on the floor. She had pulled out a small camera and was setting it up on the edge of the table, making sure the lens was focused on your position. Long fingers fiddled with the buttons, and her tongue was prodding the hollow of her cheek. The angle allowed you to finally catch a glimpse of her eyes.
As if on cue, she glanced up at you. Your eyes met in the reflection of the mirror and your heart raced.
She gave you a soft smile and moved to sit cross-legged on the floor, the camera now fully set up. “I usually record everything, so we can watch it back and give feedback.”
Right, of course.
“Yeah, that’s usually how we operate as well.” You spoke timidly, and it was true. Yet something about having her attention on you felt more intimate. Usually there was at least one other person from your creative team looking on as well.
Trying to come across casual, you tied your hair up in a high ponytail. “What do you think of the song?” You asked curiously.
It was now Bada’s turn to be caught off guard. Her smile faltered and she broke the eye contact you had been sharing, clasping her hands together as she spoke. “I like it.” She began. “A lot, actually. It’s why I wanted to play a part in it. There isn’t anyone doing a song like this nowadays.”
Even though her body language was confusing, you couldn’t find any dishonesty in her voice. What she said made you feel relieved, some of your insecurity fading to the background. It’s why I wanted to play a part in it. 
You sent a smile her way even though you weren’t sure she was even looking at you. 
Proving you wrong, she smiled back.
“Alright, so,” You gestured to the trampoline at your feet. “The idea is, the other dancers and I all do the same routine. I'll be front and center. Four or six other dancers dance behind me, with their own trampoline.” You gave the trampoline a light shove with your foot, making sure it would stay in place, and then grabbed your phone. “Then you have an idea.” 
You looked over your shoulder at Bada and gave her an inquisitive thumbs up. “Ready?” You asked.
Bada pressed a button on the camera and mimicked your thumbs up with a smile. “Ready when you are.”
You faced the mirror again and shook your shoulders a bit, forcing your body to loosen up. After twisting your neck a few times, you hit play on your phone, quickly placing it under the trampoline as the familiar synths of the song started blaring from the speakers. You tried to feel the confidence you were usually able to conjure up on stage, closing your eyes and swaying your hips, ponytail moving from side to side. 
As soon as you heard your own voice through the speakers, instrumentals going deeper, you got into position. Your eyes opened up to focus on your own reflection in the mirror as if it was a fan in the crowd watching. Mouthing along to the lyrics, a playful smile on your lips, you hit every move as you had envisioned. Once the chorus came up, you dropped to your knees on the trampoline, grappling the edge as you performed the routine. Pushing back against the springs gave you the velocity to keep your moves fluid, your body twisting and turning, flipping over and hitting the next move. You made sure to move your hips deftly, aware that you had enough curves to allow you to pull it off, and kept your facial expressions in line. It had to look effortless. 
You felt your ponytail swing along with your movements as if it were an extension of you, and sat up on the trampoline. The chorus came to an end and you used your arm strength to twist yourself around fast enough, gracefully falling back on your chest whilst keeping your toes en pointe in your sneakers. The tips of your fingers were touching the floor as your legs crossed, moving to rest your elbow on the edge of the trampoline and resting your chin atop your palm. You lip synced to the final words of the chorus, gaze alluring as you finished the move, and the music stopped.
You slowly sat up straight on the trampoline, crossing your legs, and slid your hand underneath to hit pause on your phone. You looked towards Bada expectantly, but the question got stuck in your throat. She was staring at you, mouth slightly agape, with an unreadable expression. For a split second you were reminded of your trainee days, when you had just finished a routine and were met by your choreographers’ stern faces; they wouldn’t spare you a single compliment, and instead listed off every mistake you had made.
But then, Bada blinked once and then twice, as if in a daze, and let out a soft “woah”. She started applauding you, shaking her head in bafflement. You felt your shoulders drop in relief.
“That was incredible!” The choreographer took off her cap, fixing her bangs before putting it back on. “You came up with this?”
You nodded slowly, the tips of your ears glowing hot. “I used to be a gymnast.”
“I can tell—” Bada spoke bluntly, but then snapped her mouth shut as if she said something wrong. “I mean, that was really good. Every part of your body was in command. Your team didn’t like it?”
“They think it’s too much, compared to my usual routines.” You had the urge to go off on a tangent, but ultimately you didn’t know Bada well enough. Unfortunately, you were naturally quite expressive and the disapproving frown on your face was on clear display.
“Too much? I kind of wanted more, actually.” She laughed softly, looking down to where her legs were crossed. You felt your heart skip a beat and bowed your head in lieu of a thanks. 
Subsequently, the bright green light of the camera caught your attention. It was still recording. 
“Hey, I think the camera is still on.” You spoke before you realized, and hoped it didn’t sound accusatory.
“Huh? Oh!” Her expression was almost akin to a child being caught with a hand in a cookie jar, the way she swiped at the camera to turn it off. “Sorry. Good call.” She mumbled shyly, tucking it behind her. 
You weren’t sure what to say next, still flustered at her lofty praises, but luckily Bada broke the momentary silence.
“I had an idea…” She began, her hand rubbing at her chin pensively. “I don’t know if you’ve had the chance to watch my draft yet?”
You shook your head abashedly. “No, sorry, I honestly didn’t get to it.”
“It’s fine.” Bada waved her hands dismissively. “Maybe instead of doing the trampoline routine in every chorus, we could only do it in the middle? Exactly as it is. I wouldn’t change anything. And then for the other two choruses, we could keep some key moves but keep it on the floor.”
You mulled it over for a second, glancing up at the ceiling contemplatively. Using the trampoline the whole way through was not an option, according to your team. They had felt you were toeing the line with ‘raunchy’ much too closely. Perhaps you could find middle ground this way, while still keeping the part of the routine you felt most proud of. 
“Okay.” You agreed, nodding slowly. “We would need something special for the final chorus, then.”
“I had another idea for that, if you’re fine with it. Would you like to watch my draft with me?”
————— ୨୧ —————
Her draft was good. Really good, actually. 
Bada and you were sitting on the floor next to each other, the taller girl holding her phone out in front of you as the draft played on the screen. You were sitting quite closely together, but not close enough to be touching, a conscious decision on your part. You were a bit too aware of her presence, something about her was heightening your senses in a variety of ways. It wasn’t even as if she was stern or unkind, she just had an aura that intimidated you. At least, that’s what you were telling yourself.
A blonde girl you didn’t recognize was dancing your parts. Six other dancers, one of them being Bada, were in formation behind her performing the choreography perfectly in sync as your song played in the background. While you should really be paying attention to the girl in the center, your eyes couldn’t leave Bada’s figure. In the video she was dressed in loose-fitting cargo pants, just like today, and a crop top. Once again she wore a cap covering half her face, and even a face mask, but her hair hung loose over her shoulders. 
You were always impressed by the small movements she was able to squeeze in, emphasizing certain parts in ways the other dancers weren’t able to. However, it was the final chorus that had your hands turn clammy.
The final chorus was a duet formation. Bada, with a quiet confidence in her step, and the blonde girl moved towards each other in the center of the room. They were effectively dancing for each other, the blonde girl whipping her head back as Bada stared her down, swaying their hips together rhythmically. Their steps were coordinated in such a way they almost mirrored, Bada rolling her body one way and the blonde girl moving the other; but it still felt cohesive. It was an intimate choreo. There were a few split moments of hips grinding against crotches, but it never lasted long enough to be straight up inappropriate. Still, you couldn’t help but realize you would have to practice this routine with Bada as well, and you felt yourself getting hot under the collar.
The choreo ended with the blonde girl giving Bada a playful shove, and the taller girl backed away slowly, a saunter in her step, before moving off the screen along with the other background dancers. The video ended and Bada dropped her phone in her lap, not looking at you.
“That was good.” You were relieved your voice came out evenly, and Bada started nodding in her trademark way, hands clasped together. “The formations were really clean and— I loved the final chorus.” You blurted.
She smirked, head raising and meeting your eyes for the second time today. You were starting to feel eager, greedily watching. 
“I’m glad to hear. We definitely need to finetune the first chorus, line it up with your routine and all that. I really don’t want to lose your input.”
“That sounds great, thank you.” You felt a surge of gratitude in your chest, and shot her a wide smile. “I’m looking forward to working on this together.”
Bada dropped her gaze again, worrying her lower lip. You felt miffed at the brusque interruption of your shared eye contact but didn't show it. 
“I suggest we start with practices tomorrow, we will edit the first chorus as we go,” She whipped out her phone, looking at her calendar. “We should practice the duet together until you’ve got a handle on it, and then I can bring over some of my guys to prep for the actual performances. I know someone for my part. He’s worked with some of your labelmates before, I’m confident he’s right for the job.” 
You couldn’t tell if you were anxious at the prospect of practicing such a choreo with Bada, or if you were disappointed that the eventual product wouldn’t be performed with her. It made sense, though. If your label was already worried your concept was too mature for the country, having two women perform such a choreography wouldn’t be received well at all. 
“Great. Same time tomorrow, just the two of us again?” 
“Same time tomorrow,” The third time she was willing to meet your eyes, and once again with a small smile playing across her features. “Just the two of us.”
————— ୨୧ —————
Working with Bada the past few days has been surprisingly easy. 
On the first day, she brought some iced coffee for the both of you and presented it with an exaggeratedly deep bow, holding out the plastic takeout bag in front of her as if she was a lackey presenting you a treasure. You giggled, muttering an incredulous “thank you” as you took the bag from her hands. Through sips of coffee, the both of you fast forwarded through the recordings trying to piece the choreography together. You were able to bounce ideas off of her in a way you never felt comfortable enough doing with other choreographers. Bada was attentive, patient and, above all, eager. 
On the second day, you wanted to repay your debt and entered the studio with a box of doughnuts. She let out a surprisingly girlish squeak when you laid the box on the table, and barreled over to grab one. That day she was wearing a beanie instead of a cap, something you inadvertently preferred as you could now lock eyes and take in her features. Sometimes you had the impression she was hellbent on looking anywhere except into your eyes, but you didn’t want to mull it over for too long; some people just had a different way of interacting. Everything else about her still left you with a warm feeling.
Sometimes you both took turns performing for each other. She would pull her beanie further down her head as she took the center of the studio, and each time something inside you would brace itself. You could only watch in awe: her movements were sharp and magnetic, her entire body language changing in the blink of an eye. While your attention should be on her footwork, you were instead hypnotized by the sway of her hips, greedily drinking her in. You chalked it up to her being such a captivating dancer.
However, little could explain how much you relished in her undivided attention. When it was your turn to copy the moves, you made sure to give it your all and put on a show. Without a hat obscuring her eyes, you could tell where her eyes were looking and it wasn’t always on your reflection in the mirror. You swore you could feel her gaze burning in your lower back, but you didn’t mind. It encouraged you to hit your moves a bit harder than you usually would.
“You’re a fast learner,” Bada said at the end of the day, drinking from her water bottle as you watched her throat bob. “Keep it up and you won’t need me anymore.”
You didn’t like the sound of that.
————— ୨୧ —————
By the fifth day, the both of you had started working through the details of the duet. 
The familiar song sounded through the speakers, the room filled with the sound of your singing voice and the squeaking of your sneakers on the floor. 
You were painfully aware of the way Bada closely danced behind you but you kept your eyes down, forcing yourself to keep track of your footwork. You bent over slightly at the start of the next line, your hips popping out and letting your hair whip to the side as you hummed along to the lyrics. In tandem, Bada moved her hips the opposite direction but gyrated closer to you, her hand coming up to tug her cap lower. You spared the mirror a glance for a split second, realizing Bada was much closer to you than you had realized, but you pushed the thought away.
You looked good together.
“Pause real quick.” She spoke suddenly, stepping away from you and bending over to stop the song. You immediately halted your movements at the command, trying to control the heaving of your chest and willing away the warmth of your cheeks. 
She stood up again, meeting your eyes in the mirror before steadying herself behind you, body close to yours.
“You’re doing great, but,” A tentative hand slid to your hip, fingers curling over in a loose grip as she subtly urged it to move to one side. Both your eyes remained locked through the mirror. “I think we should move together in this part. Like this.” She repeated the motion, her grasp on your hip tightening ever so slightly before pulling you flush against her pelvis. Her hips rocked along with yours, and you could only follow. 
She hummed close to your ear, and you felt her breathe along the side of your face. “Just like that.” Her voice was quiet, gentle even, though her stare was everything but that. It was intense. 
In an attempt to sound casual you replied with an “okay”, but it came out softer than you had hoped for. 
Her eyes dropped from the mirror, opting to look down at you directly, but you couldn’t find the confidence to return the favor. “You should do that thing again," she continued quietly, "Where you throw your hair back, but look at me when you do it.”
You repeated your steps, but this time both her hands came down to hold your hips in place. You turned your head as requested, your hair falling over your shoulder as your eyes finally met. Her gaze was intense but undecipherable; she hadn’t been looking at the mirror at all this time.
Bada was so close, unblinking and heady. The thought entered your mind before you fully realized: if you craned your neck you could kiss her. In a careful motion, you felt her hands slide up and down slowly, smoothing along the curve of your hips.
“Perfect.” She said, and it sounded so intimate you felt lightheaded. Usually she voiced her approval with an animated smile and a thumbs up, but she spoke to you as if she was scared you would set off running. “You got it. You want to try that again with music?”
You nodded slowly and her hands dropped from your hips, leaving a burning sensation in their wake. As she bent down to turn the song back on, you brought the back of your hand up to your cheek; checking if it was as warm as you felt. Then you ran your fingers through your ponytail, tightening the hair tie with a sharp tug in an attempt to snap yourself out of whatever daze you had fallen into.
It meant nothing. She had merely workshopped a move and there was no need to feel so nervous.
The final chorus of the song began thumping again and the both of you got into your starting positions. Bada’s presence was palpable behind you, but you tried to force your head back into performance-mode. You kept your moves sharp, lip synced as if the voice came directly from your own throat and smiled playfully at all the right lines. 
As the instrumentals of the final chorus got louder, you twirled a finger around your ponytail, playing with the imaginary crowd in front of you. Bada pressed up against your back. Your hips moving in tandem just as the choreo required and you could no longer repress the urge to grind back against her. You saw Bada smirk in the mirror, her eyes obscured by her cap, but you could tell she was enjoying your blunt display of confidence. That made you laugh for real, putting an extra ‘oomph’ into the roll of your hips, dropping even lower, and feeling Bada take what you gave her with a great amount of enthusiasm. You heard the choreographer let out a "woo!" and you giggled.
At the very end of the choreo, you were meant to face Bada and push her away; making room for a final solo moment. So you turned around, meeting that familiar mischievous grin and your hand came up to curl into her collar. Bada sucked in her lower lip, greedily towering over you and looking down expectantly. 
But something about the giddy atmosphere had you feeling bold, so you tugged her even closer instead. Her mouth fell open, but she followed you down nonetheless, eyes becoming half-lidded. You were mere inches removed from each other, and her breath fanned across your face. For a split second her gaze lingered on your lips, and you held your breath, heart fluttering in an unfamiliar feeling. A fleeting thought told you to bridge the gap, pull her impossibly closer by the grip you had on her collar, but your body acted before your brain could. 
You reached for her cap and tugged it off her head, putting it on yourself in one swift movement and then shoved her away as you were supposed to do; effectively breaking the spell. You turned on your heel to look back at your reflection in the mirror, consciously blocking Bada from your periphery and closed out the song. The music stopped.
Now that the studio was quiet you could hear the both of you catching your breaths, and rather than facing Bada while your face was still heating up, you flopped onto the floor, limbs spread out. You moved Bada’s cap atop your face, blocking out the bright lights of the practice room, feeling exceptionally winded. 
You felt Bada sit down next to you and she promptly pulled her hat off your face.
“Ow,” You uttered lamely, arms coming up to cover your face instead. Surely the shame you felt was on wide display and you had to save the little bit of the reputation you had left. You could already hear her voice, albeit uncharacteristically, echo in your head: “What was that?” “Why didn’t you just stick to what I told you?” “That was highly unprofessional.” Your stomach churned.
But instead she said: “That was incredible.”
“Huh.” You exclaimed unintelligently. You tentatively moved your arms from your face and were met with Bada staring you down, her hat back in place. It would probably be too weird if you went back into hiding, so you dropped your arms uselessly. 
“That was incredible,” she repeated, a fond smile on her lips. “You are incredible. I’m telling you, we’ve got a hit on our hands.” She extended her arms excitedly, as if she had to convey the sheer magnitude of potential you both had crafted.
“You really think so?” You sounded breathless, the warmth in your chest blossoming. 
“I know so. Seriously? If your team doesn’t like this, they’re idiots.” Her bluntness kicked a laugh out of you, and you playfully whacked her knee. “No, I mean it!”
“It wasn’t too much?” Slowly you sat up, tugging at the front of your shirt clinging uncomfortably to your body from the sweat.
Bada tilted her head, blinking at you sympathetically as she weighed your words carefully. 
“I’ve already told you,” her voice was quiet, as if she was worried someone else might overhear, “I can’t get enough of you. The same goes for the public, by the way.” 
That made you want to kick your feet like a teenager, butterflies fluttering in your stomach as you fought the impulse to fall into her arms. Instead, you dropped your head with a timid smile hoping that did enough to show your gratitude. 
Bada placed a hand on your shoulder with a touch so soft she might as well be reassembling a broken vase, urging you to look at her. “Let's take a break, order some bubble tea and then watch the recordings. Sound good?” 
You leaned into the touch with exhilaration. “Yeah. My treat, though.”
————— ୨୧ —————
The tenth day coincided with a photoshoot in the morning. You had gotten up at 4am to get to the location early enough so that there was enough room for your stylists to get to work. 
The first thing you noticed was the visual board you had worked on tirelessly a few weeks prior.
It had changed.
Some of the images jumbled around or left out entirely, replaced by ones you did not recognize or even liked to begin with. Even the color scheme had changed. Before you could ask your manager about it, however, your hair stylist beckoned you to follow her into the booth. Still groggy, with just a protein shake in your belly to keep you at bay, you followed without objection.
But then, after you emerged fully made up with your hair in intricate braids and ribbons, you saw the backdrop you were going to work with and the outfits you would be wearing: they looked nothing like what you had agreed on. 
Once sown into the baby pink corset, you looked at your reflection in the mirror with a glassy expression, too exhausted to even express the anger that was simmering in your chest. 
“What happened to the costume I commissioned?” You asked your manager in a flat voice, fully realizing you wouldn’t like whatever the answer would be.
“Oh,” But he didn’t sound surprised at all, “We didn’t really like how it turned out, so we decided to go with something else. Pink looks good on you, you know.” He added hurriedly. 
You blinked, clenching and unclenching your jaw. The last thing you wanted was to cause a scene in front of all the staff. Firstly, it wasn’t their fault; secondly, word got around quickly and the last thing you needed was a trending blind item about diva behavior. With great difficulty you swallowed the venom down your throat and walked over to the camera crew without sparing your manager a single glance. Bowing to everyone separately, you turned on the autopilot. You just needed to get through the day. You posed for the flashing of the cameras, turning your brain off.
“That’s a wrap! Great work, all.” The photographer’s voice snapped you out of your daze, and you slowly stumbled away from the backdrop, blinking back tears.
“Great job everyone, thank you for your hard work.” You hoped your voice sounded even and hurried away to get changed.
Once alone in your dressing room, you bent over the sink with your hands in your hair. You didn’t understand. They had seen the choreography Bada and you had worked on, and approved. They had been enthusiastic even, and it felt like your team and you had finally buried the hatchet. Now you understood why they were so pliant in their acceptance of the final choreo; they had found something else to exert their control over. You didn’t want to cry, so you grit your teeth and untied your hair, fingers smoothing out where the braids had been.
Bada.
In the bustle of the early morning you had almost forgotten you were meant to start your first practice with the entire dance crew today, with Bada as the lead choreographer ensuring everything played out exactly according to your collaborative vision. It had been almost two days since you had last seen her, yesterday being a day off for the both of you, and for some reason it felt like a lifetime.
You wanted to see her, but you weren’t sure if you could dance today.
You arrived at the studio about an hour later, right on time, with most of your makeup cleared from your face and dressed in joggers and a crop top. This time you were sporting a cap as well, hoping the dancers wouldn’t notice the fatigue etched on your face on your first day with them. 
Everyone was already there. Some dancers stretching, others practicing and a few watching the recordings while in deep discussion with Bada. Her flannel shirt was bunched up at her elbows as she made grand gestures with her hands, explaining something to the dancers in front of her. As the sound of the door opening and closing filled the room, the tall girl perked up mid-sentence, shooting you a wide smile. 
“Hey! I got you some coffee.” She spoke brightly, walking over to you in big strides as her loose braid fell off her shoulder. You had just finished bowing to everyone when you turned to Bada, feeling your chest swell at the sight of her. “How was the shoot?”
She must’ve noticed something. Perhaps it was the sag of your shoulder, the way you bit your lower lip or the exhaustion in your eyes; but her smile faltered slightly when she got a closer look. 
“It went alright.” You spoke neutrally, unable to meet her eyes but adding a nod to come across as reassuring as possible. “Thank you for the coffee.”
Bada stood a bit helplessly but seemed to understand that prying any further would be futile. “Of course, it was my turn, after all.” She smiled carefully. “You wanna get started?”
“Let’s do that.” You agreed, hoping that dancing would get your mind off of things. 
Bada gathered everyone together and gave a small speech, making a conscious effort to do all the talking so you could comfortably hide the swelling insecurity you felt deep in your chest. You nodded at the right times, smiled at the dancers (some of them peeking at you in awe) and tried to come across relaxed. 
Once Bada finished talking, she called for everyone to get in position as she strode to the far end of the room, where she had the most optimal view. You moved to the front, right next to your trampoline, facing the mirror and vaguely took note of a tall guy with a buzzcut who now stood in the spot Bada did when you had been practicing with her. Something about her not being part of the dance anymore, even though you perfectly knew this was going to be the plan all along, made you feel even less secure.
You shook your limbs loose, trying to empty your head for the sake of the dancers who were all blind to your inner turmoil and instead incredibly excited to be here. You did not want to waste their time. Once again, you forced yourself into auto pilot. 
The song started playing, bubbling synths building up to your first lines, and you danced. You danced as you had practiced with Bada, but weren’t able to envision the crowd in front of you. Instead you relied on muscle memory, which worked out well enough. Even when the tall guy was behind you for the duet, hips grazing yours, you didn’t feel very aware of your surroundings at all. Sometimes you all had to stop midway when Bada noticed that someone was offbeat or out of position, but you slid back into the moves easily. The team was strong, too. You danced the choreo once, twice, thrice and a fourth time. When you grabbed the guy’s collar, you pushed him back immediately, unlike what you had practiced with Bada, and finished your move.
Bada clapped her hands together with a cheer.
“That was solid, everyone!” She strode over, giving everyone a thumbs up. “Some things we have to smooth over, but we are way ahead on schedule. Let’s take five. I— Are you okay?”
You barely realized your own actions until you felt the warm tears run down your cheeks. You had sat down on the trampoline in such an unceremonious way, body shaking from exertion as you tried to hold back hiccups. Panic began crawling up your body and into your throat. Suddenly aware of the dancers seeing you in such a state, you took your cap off and held it in front of your face.
“Actually, since we are ahead on schedule, let’s make this a short day.” Bada’s authoritative voice declared to the entire room. The dancers nodded along nervously, glancing at your hunched figure with palpable worry. “Great work everyone, make sure to get home safe. Same time tomorrow.” 
You croaked out a soft “Thank you, everyone” through your fingers, but your voice was barely audible. You couldn’t face them.
Footsteps rushed around the room, the dancers gathering their backpacks off the floor. You barely registered the hushed voices slowly echoing further and further away from you, until the door shut with finality; a lock sounding in place and silence reigning over the space.
Bada’s hands came to rest on your shoulders as you felt the trampoline sink with her added weight. Then she pulled you into her arms with a tenderness you had never experienced from anyone before. Your arms tightened around her frame in instinct, dropping your cap onto the floor, and your heart constricting painfully as you hid your face in her chest. 
She didn’t speak as you hiccupped soundlessly, letting the exhaustion pour out of you with quivering shoulders. Bada’s hands traced comforting lines along your back, her cheek pressed against the top of your head as she waited for the trembling of your body to subdue. In turn, you tried to focus on the steady rise and fall of her chest, her breathing lulling you. 
After ten minutes of complete silence, Bada was the one to speak in a hushed voice: “What happened?” 
You glanced up at her, tears still running down your cheeks as you choked back a particularly pathetic sob. “I’m sorry…” 
Bada let out an affronted gasp, bringing her hands up to cradle your face instead and letting her thumbs wipe the tears from your cheeks. “Please don’t apologize. Tell me what happened.”
“My team,” You began with a slurred speech, “They still don’t believe in me. They don’t think I can pull this off.” 
Your voice sounded heartbroken: “They make sure to remind me every chance they get. My manager is certain I am going to embarrass the nation, because there is only one thing I can do and it’s not this. I can’t be sexy. I don’t have good ideas. And maybe they’re right! I don’t have the charisma to pull this off. My fans are going to hate it, because it’s not the person they wanted to support—” There was nothing you could do except keep going, like a faucet running, and Bada let you, “—I can’t even wear what I want. My visual board was cybercore inspired. I had a red PVC two piece outfit custom-made, but they put me in a pink dress and ballet shoes.” You added, horrified; not at the clothes, but at the clear disconnect between your team and you.
Bada, who was nodding along to your words with a serious expression up until that point, chuckled at your words, thumbs still catching tears. “Well I always thought you looked like a pretty princess, but that’s indeed a bit on the nose.”
The follow-up to your rant died in your throat, eyes widening at her words. Your brain was short circuiting. “You think I’m pretty?”
The taller girl scoffed at that, brows furrowing. “I can’t believe you just asked me that.”
“Why?” You asked, genuinely.
For a moment she gawked at you, deep in thought and searching your face for insincerity. Bada was unable to find it. 
“It’s not the only thing I think of you.”
Something about the atmosphere in the room changed when she spoke, and you almost forgot why you were upset in the first place. She carefully tucked your hair behind your ears, her eyes staring into yours unblinkingly. It reminded you of the way she had looked at you during practice days prior, when you had pulled her close by her collar for the first time. Her attention on you was suffocating, but you were glad to be drowning.
You sucked in your lower lip for a split second, releasing it, and waited with bated breath for her to continue. Her eyes dropped immediately, following your movements. She slid one hand down to the crook of your neck, slowly, the tips of her fingers tracing along your skin and leaving shivers in their wake; her other hand curled under your chin with a loose grip, tilting your head back slightly. Your head felt so heavy you could only lean in closer, wanting more of something you couldn’t even put in words.
But as always with Bada, she seemed to know what you wanted before you could open your mouth and ask for it. She closed the distance, brushing her lips against yours in a soft peck, and it was when you realized she was also holding her breath.
Her thumb trailed along your jawline, breath fanning over your lips. “Is this okay?” She asked quietly. You placed your hands on her thighs to brace yourself, your own lightheadedness overwhelming you, and nodded.
There was a shadow of a smirk on her lips when she kissed you a second time; lips connected with more force this time before gliding together in tandem. She tilted your head to get impossibly closer to you, her hand moving from your chin to tangle her fingers into your hair and cradling the back of your head. When her lips parted and closed around your bottom lip, nipping eagerly, you inadvertently let out a soft noise at the warmth of it all which only seemed to spur her on further. 
You curled your hands into the front of her shirt as her back straightened, crowding around you as if her goal was to subdue, the trampoline creaking underneath your shared weight. She seemed to relish in overpowering you, inhaling sharply through her nose when you parted your mouth for her further.
You felt the tentative prod of her tongue, and accepted. The wetness made you shiver as she swallowed your quiet gasps. The hand that was previously nestled against your neck slid lower, began exploring along the curve of your waist and feeling the bare skin your crop top couldn’t reach to hide.
She parted the kiss, and you let out a soft whine. Biting her lip in an attempt to hide her smile, but ultimately failing, her eyes were drinking you in. You could only imagine what you looked like as even Bada was flushed all over, chest heaving from excitement. Then, as if she was reading your mind, her eyes glanced over to the mirror in front of you. 
Bada shifted her position behind you, running her fingers through your hair before ultimately placing her palm against the other side of your waist. Steadily, as if she were correcting a move during practice, she turned your body to face the mirror. At this rate you simply accepted the effect she had on you, and wordlessly obeyed her ministrations. She planted her feet on the floor, long legs on either side of you; and ultimately caged you in, nestling her chin into the crook of your neck. Her eyes never left the mirror.
She brushed some of your hair over your shoulder as if she were propping up a doll, and spoke in a hushed voice: “Look at yourself.” 
The sight made you feel all the more dizzy. Through half-lidded eyes you barely recognized your own reflection; hair slightly mussed and lips swollen and lovebitten. Someone did that to you. Bada did that to you. 
The taller girl, pressed up against you, placed a kiss on your shoulder, fingers running up and down your body and making the hairs on your arms stand straight in exhilaration. You loved the way she touched you, how it made you feel; as if she was tracing the lines on an art piece. “You’re beautiful,” she whispered against your shoulder, “people would kill to see you like this.” 
The honesty in her voice made something in your stomach roll. “Bada…” You began, but you didn’t even know what you wanted to say.
“You have no idea how other people look at you.” Her hands cradled the small of your waist, fingertips digging into your hips. “So let me show you how they look at you.”
She began kissing up your shoulder, soft and warm presses of her lips, before parting her mouth against your neck with a tangible hunger that left you sighing. You tilted your head to the side to give her more room and every inch you freed, she swarmed eagerly. Her tongue swirled against a patch of skin, hand flattening on your lower stomach as the other traced higher and higher, along your ribcage, before inquisitive fingertips moved under the hem of your top. As she sucked a mark onto your skin, you clenched your thighs together at the familiar sensation between your legs. Your eyes slowly fell shut as she crept up higher, lips pressing right below your earlobe with a barely-there hum.
She whispered: “Keep looking at yourself.”
You obeyed bashfully, right when Bada reattached her lips to your skin. She had been tracing lines along the hem of your sports bra, enthralled with the way you shivered in her grasp, before slipping a hand under; her hand was warm as she kneaded your breast, but your nipples stiffened at the sensation all the same. You pushed out your chest to convey your delectation, and she rewarded you by sinking her teeth into your skin. Suddenly, with a swift movement, both her hands hoisted up the hem of your top and bra, and pulled it upwards, your breasts releasing from its confines. The cold air made them perk up and Bada’s hands cupped the underside.
She detached her lips from your skin with a wet sound before looking up at the mirror, taking you in with her saliva-slicked mouth agape. 
“So pretty,” Bada muttered, bringing your breasts a little higher, “Are you sensitive here?” She wondered loudly before tracing her thumbs right below your nipples. Once again your legs squeezed together, feeling yourself throb from excitement, and Bada picked up on the hint with a wide smile. “You are.”
In your reflection you saw Bada bring her fingers up to your mouth, thumb pressing down on your bottom lip imploringly, and you opened your mouth. She slipped her digit past, pushing it back against your tongue and you sucked obediently. Her eyes were drilling into yours through your reflection, enthralled by how pliant you were under her care. 
You released the digit with a wet ‘pop’ and Bada promptly brought it to your nipple, rubbing it in circular motions as her other hand continued to knead your other breast. A quiet moan escaped you, chest rising into her touch and Bada giggled, pressing another kiss on your shoulder. Your own hands ached to touch her, but she kept you firmly locked between her legs; instead you squeezed her upper thighs, feeling her shapes through the baggy cargo she was sporting. 
“Give me a kiss.” She commanded, and you immediately twisted your neck to capture her lips. 
It was all teeth, wet noises echoing through the room as your tongue swirled against hers; the taller girl groaning into your mouth at the sheer force you exerted. She gave your nipples a pinch before rubbing her fingers over them repeatedly, and she swallowed your breathless moans greedily. You dug your nails into her thighs as she cupped your breasts again, her tongue slipping out of your mouth to trail along your bottom lip instead. Your head was chanting her name, getting drunk on the near delirious attention she gave you. Tilting your head back even further, you connected your lips again even though the angle was uncomfortable. You were starting to feel desperate, hips lightly rocking back against the firmness of her body as Bada sucked down on your tongue.
One of her hands released your breast and trailed down the expanse of your stomach, once again breaking the kiss and instead opt to look at you in the mirror. Her fingers found the knot of your joggers as your eyes met in the reflection, and she pulled on the string; untying it. 
“Okay?” Bada inquired meaningfully, and you nodded much faster than you intended. “Let me hear you say it.” The tone of her voice, which was otherwise so gentle and quiet, made your full body shiver.
“I want it.” You spoke breathlessly, squirming impatiently between her legs as her fingers finally slipped down your pants.
She trailed along the sweatband of your underpants before cupping your heat over the fabric, fingers pressing against your folds inquisitively. Her eyes never left yours, quietly measuring your reactions. Unwittingly your thighs clamped around her wrist, breath hitching in your throat as she began to caress you with a touch so gentle it didn’t fit the precarious position you both were in. 
“You’re so wet.” Bada spoke coyly, smirking at the way your eyes squeezed shut in embarrassment. She began rubbing circles over your covered folds, feeling your wetness spread as if on command. Your breathing turned into whining, subconsciously grinding back against her hand. 
She removed her hand much to your distress, until you realized what she wanted: Bada began tugging the fabric of both your joggers and underpants down as far as she could, before giving your hip a commanding pat. You raised your hips to assist her ministrations, and she pulled the clothing down past your knees before you kicked them off fully. 
Your thighs were pressed together when you got back in place and suddenly felt self-conscious at how exposed you were despite your own eagerness. Bada wasn’t having it: her eyes were taking in your figure, hands immediately coming down to smooth along your thighs. Then, she squeezed tightly and wrenched your thighs wide apart, making you expose yourself for her. Before you could instinctively close them, her long legs hooked over your ankles, forcefully keeping them in place. All of it only made you throb harder.
“You don’t want to know how often I’ve been thinking about this these past few days.” Her hands smoothing along your sides in marvel, cupping your breasts once more. The tip of her nose pressed against the shell of your ear. “How many times I’ve watched those recordings and imagined you, exactly like this.” Her fingers fit into your mouth once again, and you sucked on them, letting your tongue swirl along the digits as if you were starving for it. “I think I lost count.”
Her confession made you moan around her fingers, shivers running down your spine. She scooted back ever so slightly, pulling your hips back with her unoccupied hand until it was the angle she needed, and then dropped it between your legs. Her fingers spread your folds and she sucked in a breath, completely mesmerized by your reflection. You were still swallowing around her fingers and she hummed encouragingly, hand cupping your vagina and spreading your wetness across your heat. 
She removed her fingers from your mouth and you caught your breath, fingers digging into her upper thighs as you braced yourself. As one hand kept your folds spread, the other, spit-slicked, began rubbing slow circles against you. You gasped at the sensation, mumbling her name in amazement. You raised your hand to the back of her head; grabbing a hold of her braid to simply have a hold of something, but it earned you a particularly sweet noise from the girl behind you. Your hips rocked back against her movements trying to find more friction in the right place, and Bada slowly sped up, moving her wrist up and down to try and find the spot that did it for you. Her lips pressed against the back of your neck so tenderly, and something about the dichotomy between that and the way she was touching you between your legs made your eyes roll back; lids closing as you thrusted back against her hand.
You didn’t understand how she was able to build up to that familiar knot in your stomach so soon, and it almost made you feel embarrassed, until you realized Bada was savoring every second of it. Her eyes never left your form, as if she were studying just another choreography, lips parted in an awestruck way. You had long foregone the urge to keep quiet, vocalizing exactly what she was doing to you: You let a particularly loud moan leave you when she rubbed along your most sensitive spot. Trying to pull more sounds from you, she pressed against your clit with more force and rubbed faster. Your hips could only chase her touch as your lower stomach constricted. 
Bada brought her hand up to her own lips and lapped at her fingers, effectively pausing her motions for a split second and thus drawing a broken whine from you; both because her hand wasn’t where you needed it to be and also because she had no qualms about having you in her mouth. It didn’t last long: she hushed you soothingly as she put her hand back where you felt it belonged and used the added wetness to add faster friction against your clit. Your head rolled back and you tugged at her braid, pulling an attractive groan from the girl behind you.
You weren’t far away anymore. Your lower stomach was unbearably tight with desire and you were a gyrating, frantic mess against her hand while her fingers rubbed against you in vertical swipes, her name falling from your lips repeatedly as if you were reciting a prayer. 
You managed to utter an “I’m close”, and Bada crowded against you before you could start begging her for release. “Come for me.” She demanded, and then immediately captured your mouth in a desperate kiss, teeth clashing together while she drank your sweet moans. 
As if on cue, the tension in your stomach imploded and you gave her braid a sharp pull. You gasped into her mouth, no longer kissing each other but rather breathing each other's air, as your orgasm rippled through you.
You felt your whole body quiver and shake in pleasure as Bada led you through your release, thighs trembling despite the hold the choreographer’s legs had on you. Her fingers hadn’t left your core, but the rubbing slowed down until you were gasping at the overstimulation, yet unwilling to make her hands leave you. As if she read your mind her movements came to a halt, but she pressed her palm against you; almost possessively. She planted kisses along the side of your throat, whispering praises against your skin as you caught your breath.
Once you had the rise and fall of your chest under control, her arms curled around your waist in a fond embrace, and you turned your head to look directly at her. She had already been staring at you, meeting your eyes with a bashful smile. The two of you laughed at each other, and Bada pressed your foreheads together.
“That,” You mumbled, eyes falling shut as you relished in her open affection: “Was amazing, thank you.”
“Was happy to do it.” She responded playfully, rubbing the tip of your noses together affectionately. 
“Will this happen every time I get self-deprecating?”
“I definitely intend to do this more often, but you could also just ask nicely.” Bada retorted with a smirk before pecking your lips. You giggled, putting your hands over hers and leaning back into the embrace.
After several more shared kisses and hushed whispers, both of you decided to get a move on: you were starting to get cold in your exposed state so Bada urged you to get up. She helped you step back in your clothes, a smug self-satisfied grin never leaving her face when she noticed the unsteady wobble in your legs. 
When you pulled your bra and top back over your breasts, Bada pouted. You gave her a playful shove but she caught your arms instead, bringing them around her neck as her own enveloped your waist.
“Wanna grab dinner?” Her eyes were round and hopeful.
“I would love that.” You replied, and gave her a kiss.
As the both of you tidied up the practice room and gathered your things, Bada listing off food suggestions in the background, your eyes slid to the table at the front of the room.
A familiar device remained perched on the edge, a small green light lighting up proudly.
“Hey, Bada.”
“Hm?”
“Camera’s still recording.”
She stumbled over looking mortified, snatching the device off the table and rewinding haphazardly. 
“Oh, fuck.”
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7ndipity · 6 months
Text
Better For You
Yoongi x Reader
Summary: When Yoongi admits to feeling jealous about you spending so much time with Hobi, you end up making a slightly accidental confession.
Word Count: 1.8k
Warnings: +18 Mdni, smut, oral(m. rec), marking, unprotected sex(don’t that pls), Yoongi being a big ol softie
A/N: Thanks to the lovely anon who requested this! As I mentioned yesterday, this was supposed to go up last night, but I got distracted with the ship game and didn’t get to finish editing it. Also, this ended up being waay longer than I intended cause I got carried away again(sorry not sorry?) Idk, they’re in love, your honor
Masterlist
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As you let yourself into your apartment, you stopped short at the sight of an extra, much larger pair of shoes by the door, confusion flickering through your mind for a second before relaxing, a smile creeping across your face as you set your things down, recognizing the shoes as belonging to your boyfriend.
You had given Yoongi a key to your place a few weeks back, deciding it was the easiest solution to his chronically late hours at the studio and his insistence on sleeping next to you most nights.
Now, he could let himself in whenever he got there, and you had quickly become used to his sudden appearances in your apartment, rolling over during the night and finding him sound asleep next to you never failed to bring a tiny smile to your face.
As you wandered through the house in search of him, you started to hear the faint sound of the shower running in the master bathroom, his bag and jacket on the chair by your bed.
While you waited for him to finish up in the shower, you decided to swap out of your town clothes and into something more comfortable, opting for some pajama shorts and one of Yoongi’s tshirts he’d ‘accidentally’ left for you to wear.
As you were pulling the shirt over your head, you heard the bathroom door open behind you, a pair of arms immediately snaking their way around your waist, his scent filling your senses instantly making all the tension in your body vanish as you leaned back into his hold.
“Hi.” Yoongi mumbled, burying his face in the crook of your neck.
“Hey.” You chuckled, turning in his hold to face him. “I didn’t think you’d be here this early, I didn’t keep you waiting, did I?”
“Nah, I went to wash up as soon as I got here, missed you tho.” He mumbled, placing the faintest kiss on your lips, pulling you along in a tired hug as he walked backwards to the bed, settling you on his lap. “Where were you off to today? I thought it was your day off?”
“It is, I just went for lunch with Hobi, and then we ended up doing some shopping as well.” You said, leaning down to connect your lips with his. As you kissed him though, you noticed that his movements suddenly became a bit hesitant, following your lead almost automatically.
Pulling back, you could tell something was on his mind, Yoongi’s gaze avoiding your own as he pressed his lips together, an expression you’d seen enough to know something was definitely bothering him.
“What’s wrong?” You asked gently.
“Nothing, ‘m fine.” He said unconvincingly.
“Yoongs?” You pressed, studying him carefully.
He sighed. “It’s nothing, seriously.”
“It’s clearly not nothing, not if it’s bothering you this much.” You shifted on his lap, looping your arms over his shoulders to rub the back of his neck soothingly. He instinctively leaned into your touch, but said nothing.
“Baby please, talk to me.” You encouraged, using the petname you knew he had a weak spot for.
He fiddled with the hem of your shorts as he thought for a long moment, still not meeting your eyes when he finally spoke.
“You’re always with Hobi.” He mumbled.
You frowned. “I thought you liked me being friends with him?”
“I do, it’s just,” He sighed. “I don’t know, it’s like you’re just always together, and you always seem so happy with him, and I know it’s stupid, but it makes me feel a little…” His voice trailed off.
“Jealous?” You offered.
He nodded, glancing up at you.
“Baby,” You leaned in, kissing over his face as you spoke. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make you feel like that. I do like spending time with Hobi, but it’s nothing compared to how much I love being with you.”
“I know, I just get those stupid thoughts sometimes that maybe someone like him would be better for you.” He said, voice growing quieter as he spoke.
“Yoongi,” You said seriously, cupping his face as you spoke. “There is not a single person in this world better suited for me than you, you hear? You don’t have anything to worry about, I love you far too much for anyone else to ever take your place.”
Yoongi’s eyes went wide as they flicked up to meet yours, fully meeting your gaze at last as you realized what you’d said.
Despite having been together as long as you had, neither of you had yet to say those three words out loud.
“You love me?” He asked, looking up at you softly.
You felt your cheeks heat up slightly at your sudden admission, but you nodded, trying to ignore your feelings of self-consciousness. “Of course I do. You're everythi-”
Your words were cut off by Yoongi’s lips crashing against yours, kissing you hard enough to take your breath away.
Your hands flew back to his shoulders in an attempt to steady yourself as he wrapped his arms around you, pulling you closer as he deepened the kiss, nipping at your bottom lip to elicit a surprised gasp from you and allowing him to delve into your mouth, swirling his tongue around yours before you had to pull back for air. Even then though, his lips never left you, trailing down over your jaw and neck, leaving wet kisses in his wake.
“I love you too.” He breathed, laving over your skin with his tongue before sucking a mark below your ear. “God, I fucking love you so much.”
Your hips twitched forward involuntarily at his ministrations, making you aware of his growing bulge pressing against your core. You rolled your hips again, making him let out a soft grunt against your lips as his grip on your hips tightened and urged you on, the few layers of clothes between you creating just enough friction to make your mind go fuzzy with need.
You knew you could easily make yourself cum from this if you kept going, but you had other plans.
You pulled back, slipping your hand down between your bodies to palm at him over his shorts, making him let out a low growl against your lips, twitching against your hand before you pulled away again, sliding off his lap and settling between his knees.
Glancing up at him for permission, which he gave with a weak nod, you quickly tugged his shorts down enough to let his cock spring free, tip already flushed and dripping precum.
Wasting no time, you wrapped a hand around him tightly, pumping his length as you leaned down to give him a few kitten licks before sinking your mouth down on him, making his eyes roll back.
“Fuck, Y/n.” He groaned loudly, gripping the sheets beneath him tightly as you began to bob your head, setting a pace that quickly had him bucking up into your mouth.
You looked up at him again, watching closely as he lost himself in the feeling of you, the sight making you press your thighs together to try and ease the growing ache between them.
Just as you felt him beginning to tense, nearing his release, his hands suddenly gripped yours, tugging your hair to stop your movements as his dark eyes burned into yours. “I need to be inside you, please.”
Heat flooding your stomach at his words, you nodded, quickly climbing back to your feet.
You tried to straddle him again, but Yoongi flipped you over so he was now hovering over you, grinding his hips into yours teasingly and making you whine as your head fell back against the pillows.
“So pretty, always so pretty for me.” He mumbled, making his way down your front, leaving teasing kisses down your chest and tummy as he hooked his fingers in the waistband of your shorts, yanking them and your underwear down in the same motion.
“Such a pretty pussy.” He murmured, pressing a kiss to your mound, making you shudder at the feeling of his hot breath ghosting over where you needed him most. “And it’s all mine.”
He traced a finger between your folds, making your jolt at the sudden stimulation.
“Always so wet for me.” He smirked, spreading your arousal around as he toyed with your clit.
“Yoongi,” You whispered, feeling increasingly desperate. “Please.”
He only teased you for a moment before climbing back up and settling over you, bracing one hand by your head as he used the other to position himself at your entrance.
“Ready?” He asked in a breathless tone.
You nodded. “Yes, just please!”
In one swift motion, he slid inside you, making you both moan as he stretched you out. Once he was fully sheathed inside of you, he paused to let you adjust, staring down at you with absolute adoration.
“I love you.” He breathed, slowly drawing his hips back and thrusting into you, making you cry out.
His words and kisses were soft, but there was an edge of desperation to his movements, thrusting deep and hard, angling his hips to hit that spot that had your back arching off the bed as you repeated his name like a mantra.
“Say it again.” He groaned, struggling to keep his pace as he neared his high.
“Wha-?” You whined, mind hazy with the feeling of his cock dragging against your sensitive walls.
“Say it again, please!” He gasped, the earlier hints of desperation bleeding into his voice and clearing your head just enough to understand, pulling him close so your lips were almost touching.
“I love you.” You whispered.
He pounded into you even harder, making you cry out from the almost overwhelming pleasure as the coil inside you wound tighter and tighter.
Feeling you start to twitch and clench around him, Yoongi quickly slipped a hand down between you to rub frantically at your clit, making your whole body shake as you teetered on the edge.
“Cum for me, please!” He begged.
At his words, the coil snapped, your vision going white as heat coursed through you, spasming in his hold, the only sound able to escape from you a choked whine.
Feeling you cum around him was all he needed to hit his high as well, thrusting messily into you a few more times before burying himself deep inside you, his cock pulsing as he painted your insides with his release.
Exhausted, he half-collapsed on top of you, catching himself on his elbows before fully falling on top of you.
“Are you okay?” You asked,
“Yeah, ’m fine.” He laughed, trying to catch his breath. “I’m great actually.”
He propped his chin on your chest, smiling up at you tiredly. “I love you.”
“I love you too.” You grinned, combing your fingers through his hair, feeling your heart twist as you looked at him. You didn’t know what you’d done to deserve him.
You both lay quietly for a bit, basking in the peace of the moment as your breathing returned to normal. After a few minutes, he moved to pull out, but you stopped him, making him glance up at you in question.
“Stay,” You murmured sleepily. “I wanna stay close to you.”
Smiling softly at your half-sleeping state, he nodded. “I’ll stay as close as you want.”
Taglist: @sopebubbles-replies @btsw1fe @this-must-be-my-tardis @whitefoxgirl @bethanysnow @coffeedepressionsoup @main-bangtansmauyeondan @feminympho @captainorangegoose @k4ngelz
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areallydramaticbish · 2 years
Text
That feeling I used to get when I had panic attacks, where you're breathing so hard you feel like you're being smothered by air and still gasping for it
That ache in my lungs, the lightness in my head, the disoriented feeling that meant I had not a single synaps available for a coherent thought.
VS now
An empty chest, no aching signs of desperation to survive, to live
While my mind's alarmbells have rung for so long that they broke, and now I'm here. Empty, waiting for a sign of life, a sign to survive
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cannibalistic-deer · 3 months
Text
It baffles me that I've seen people say "Alastor is canonically sex and touch repulsed" as a reason people "shouldn't" be shipping Alastor sexually/romantically.
Why assume that the sex repulsion applies to every relationship in his life, permanently? Some aces are sex favorable, or may develop more favorable feelings for specific people, even if otherwise repulsed.
And the same applies to touch repulsion. That's such a weak argument. Alastor canonically, and very clearly, is okay with or possibly even enjoys touch in specific situations. He does seem to be touch repulsed in general, but again, there are specific people it doesn't apply to. (Rosie is the best example, since with anyone else it is more brief, but Rosie touches him, and is the one initiating that, frequently.)
All types of attraction, or comfort levels with different manners of affection, are fluid. This isn't ever an excuse to invalidate real people who are telling you their identities, but it does mean that assumptions really can't be made about what a person would or wouldn't do.
And this type of thinking is what really leads to invalidating real people, because even if you think "being asexual means never having sexual attraction," and then an ace person shares that they think they might have experienced sexual attraction at some point but still identify as ace... then you have to be open to that. You cannot put sexualities in boxes. This applies to all sexualities.
I'm a fictive of Alastor myself, and I am sex repulsed, so I understand the discomfort, but I also understand that people are not harming any real, living person by making fanworks where Alastor is having sex. It also doesn't mean they're inherently rejecting his asexuality.
If people want to ignore Alastor being aroace completely, that's different. Alastor is canonically aroace (or asexual at minimum), and he always will be. But jumping to conclusions about what people think because you're too naive and stubborn to understand that sexuality and attraction doesn't fit into tidy little boxes is harmful and is a way of thinking that must be changed.
This became longer than intended because I was mostly thinking about the "Alastor is touch repulsed to everyone!" claims some people make, which are frankly incompatible with canon. But the rest of this post is also true.
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matrixbearer2024 · 4 months
Note
hey! 🤭 i'd like to request an 18+ vox x fem reader please
reader is super flirty and just keeps fucking with vox all day until he can't take it anymore and drags her back to his room
The Temptation Tango
Vox x fem!Reader
NSFW WARNING HERE! MINORS DNI!
A/N: I am both terrified and insanely happy that you requested something from me ahdjsbdjksbs- like I love reading the fics you put out so seeing you in my inbox almost had me yeeting my phone hahahahaha! I hope I did this one justice, not quite used to writing smut yet but I think this turned out okay? I think this could be considered my practice before I actually write the smut interlude I have planned for my series? It's also WAAAAAY LONGER THAN I HAD ORIGINALLY PLANNED- but more content I guess HAHAHAHAHA-
A/N: Anyways, I hope you readers enjoy what I wrote- and as always, happy reading!
The fact Vox could even focus at all on his work right now was no short of a miracle.
Especially when you've made it so difficult for him to think of anything else aside from you.
Since the morning, you've provoked and teased the man relentlessly.
Fleeting kisses, dirty whispers, even some discreet groping-
But you never let it escalate, playing this game of push and pull where the scales only threatened to tip over.
A teasing glance here and there, a provocative message when you knew he was looking at his phone-
You were dancing so close to the fire but not quite enough to get burned.
And Vox was almost at his wits end dealing with your teasing.
But when you came sauntering back into his office, the paper work he had currently been dealing with quickly became an afterthought.
After all, you were always on the forefront of his mind.
"Hey Vox, you busy~?"
You tone was honeyed, like an intoxicating drug that had him addicted.
The overlord you were dating had already gone through his fair share of lovers and relationships.
Still, none were quite like you.
At least not in the conventional sense.
Nobody had ever been able to have him locked in just like you have.
Hook, line and sinker this man fell for your charms.
And you didn't intend to let him go.
Vox put his pen down and looked up towards you, crossing his arms and leaning back against his chair.
"I was busy working, but it seems like you won't really let that be."
His gaze on you was no short of intense, causing a heated charge to almost trade between the two of you.
It was kind of expected when you had been absolutely toying with the man all day.
But that didn't mean you were willing to stop playing and give in.
You just smiled, walking up to his side and placing a kiss on the corner of his screen.
"Not really, just wanted to make sure you weren't overworking."
"Well, with you around it's like I can barely work at all my dear."
"You make it sound like I'm an unwelcome distraction."
"Not in the slightest, you're just twisting my words."
You quickly dodged when Vox tried to grab you, giggling when you heard him growl and his fans kick to life.
It was always the game you played, tempting and taunting your lover at multiple intervals in the day-
Never once allowing him to do anything but just return your kisses.
You tutted at his impatience, moving behind his chair while teasingly stroking the side of his screen.
His grip on the armrests of his chair were surely going to leave marks, not that you cared.
"Nope~! you're going to have to wait until tonight remember~?"
"At this rate, you're going to be in for one hell of a night sweetheart."
A shiver ran down your spine at Vox's low tone, whenever he said something like that you knew he meant it.
You swung around to face the overlord, your hands playing with his tie while you soaked up his lustful gaze.
That just made you all the more eager for later.
With a smirk on your face, you leaned down close enough to his screen that you were nearly kissing.
"I'm counting on it~"
You whispered in a sultry manner, exchanging a chaste kiss with your boo and again quickly exiting the room before he could actually do anything.
Vox was really overheating in his office chair, a hand raised to cover his face in an attempt to just calm down.
He really wouldn't be able to just go back to work like this.
The next time you decided to bother him was when he was in his monitor room, except-
He wasn't there?
Well, he was- you just didn't see him.
You looked up at some of the large screens curiously, ads, statistics, surveillance, there was just so much all around.
How Vox even began to manage everything was beyond you.
"Looking for me doll~?"
As soon as you spun around, his arms were on the desk at your sides, effectively caging you in place.
Your faces oh so temptingly close to each other.
Still, instead of being surprised-
You merely smiled and giggled.
"Yeah~ I was getting a little bored so I came to see you~"
"So you came to mess with me again? That's a little mean dollface~"
"Mhm, I don't think it is when you like it~"
A shiver ran down your spine when Vox growled, his hands moving to their rightful place on your hips.
His office and rooms were often set at frigid temperatures to stop anything from overheating, and still you could feel the warmth just emanating from your lover.
It was cute how worked up he got whenever you both had this push and pull.
Made things interesting, electrifying even.
All the more when he suddenly snatched your lips up in a kiss.
You softly moaned and threw your arms around the overlord's neck to pull him closer.
He was just so hot, so rough, so hungry for you-
It was almost greedy how much you loved and treasured his attention.
Both in the wholesome sense and this...
More addictingly carnal kind.
You gasped when one of his hands started not so gently groping your ass, indulging in any more of this would probably have your clothes torn and on the floor in seconds-
You knew how Vox worked, and how his claws were both a turn-on and a straight up atrocity when it came to your wardrobe.
Not that it mattered when he would eventually buy you the same thing he ruined anyway-
You broke away from the kiss to catch your breath, biting back a whine your lover started leaving kisses elsewhere all over you.
"Hun, we're not fucking in your office."
You gently moved Vox's face away from marking up your skin to actually look at you.
Taking note that his hands stopped their wandering and grabbing when you did.
He looked a little annoyed for being interrupted, but the flame of desire still ran rampant in his gaze.
Only just barely controlled.
"The room is soundproof and the door is locked, I don't care."
"I care. Either bedroom now or you wait until tonight."
It probably took less than a minute for Vox to fight himself on which was a bigger priority at the moment.
You getting a taste of your own medicine or his work.
Fuck it-
He didn't want to go to that meeting anyway.
You yelped when Vox suddenly picked you up from where you had been propped up against his desk.
Your arms instinctively looping around his neck again caused a smug grin to appear on his screen.
"Aww, clingy much? Don't worry dear, I won't drop you."
You just rolled your eyes at his comment, bracing yourself when Vox predictably zapped you both through some cameras to his designated floor in the tower.
His ability was... something to get used to, that's for sure.
Especially rematerializing, that was just a doozy.
But you didn't have time to continue fussing over about it when his lips were once again locked on yours.
If there was one thing you really couldn't fathom before you started dating-
It was how a man with a flatscreen TV for a face could be such a damn good kisser.
So much so that you'd always feel loopy or high after or during one of your make out sessions.
The overlord maneuvered you both to his bedroom with rehearsed ease, soon pinning you against the soft mattress.
You let out a whine when his hips pressed against yours, the tension was palpable but the friction was nowhere near enough.
Not to mention the heat between you two just continued to grow.
"Teasing me all day, pushing all my buttons, you've really been naughty haven't you doll~?"
His low tone only made the wet feeling between your legs more pronounced.
You squirmed against your lover in mock defiance, knowing that it would only add to his rampaging arousal at the moment.
Vox immediately swooped in to attack your lips once more, his tongue slipping into your mouth as his claws ran up and down your body.
So you should've expected it when you suddenly heard the slicing and tearing of fabric.
Not that you had any time to voice your surprise or displeasure when your mouth was totally preoccupied.
The overlord couldn't help but rut his hips against yours impatiently, the needy sounds you made only served to spur him on.
After a whole day not being able to do anything to you?
Oh he was going to cash that in now.
After a small while, Vox pulled back to marvel at his handiwork.
Your outfit was mostly torn at the crotch and the sides because of his clawing, your face flushed and lips swollen from the rough treatment.
Not to mention the messy state of your underwear.
The overlord merely chuckled, deftly untying his bow then undoing his belt.
One of his hands always remained on you however, groping and rubbing as if he couldn't get enough.
You softly moaned when you felt the tent in his boxers press against your most sensitive spot.
"S-stop teasing already!"
"Mhm~ don't you know dollface~? Patience is a virtue."
He grinned and peppered kisses up your shoulder and chest, using one hand to shove his boxers down and align himself with your entrance.
"Ah- Vox please!!"
"Please what my dear? Use your words~"
"Oh please- please fuck me!! I need you so bad~! Vox~!!"
Your tone caused something to snap in the man.
Because before you knew it, he'd torn your panties off and was thrusting into you with wild abandon.
Seems like even his self-control had finally run out.
You could only helplessly grab his shoulders and hold on for the ride, moaning and babbling incoherently as your lover went to town on you.
"NgGh, so tight a-zZzST -and good for me~"
The overlord wasn't actually in a much better state himself.
All the sensations and stimuli running through his systems were already bordering overload.
But you were both so engrossed into your lovely tryst that neither of you noticed the lights started flickering.
Your nails were digging into the fabric of his coat while your back arched towards him.
The sight of you like this was absolutely intoxicating, like a drug he didn't ever want to stop taking.
His name fell from your lips like a symphony, accompanied by your whines and moans from his rough treatment.
God you were amazing.
"Vox~! Mmph~! Vox I'm close~!! I- ah!"
He didn't relent his pace, instead angling his hips to repeatedly hit a place that he knew would make you see stars.
After all, you were already making him feel a little too good.
But he'd be damned if he finished before you would.
You gasped and cried out from the onslaught of pleasure, your mind clouded from it all as your lover continued his ministrations.
"That's it love~ that's it, go on~ come for me."
Just like that, the boiling knot in your gut had suddenly snapped.
Your vision going spotty as you screamed out his name, your inner walls suddenly clamping down as well at the crux of your climax.
The sudden spike of pleasure to his systems caused Vox's screen to glitch and buffer slightly before he abruptly finished inside you as well, his claws digging into the sheets by your hips hard enough that they've torn.
The overlord soon collapsed on top of you not long after, the two of you an entangled mess of limbs that were too spent to move.
You lazily wrapped your arms around his back, taking deep breaths to try and steady your racing heart.
Likewise, Vox gently just drew random patterns on your skin while his fans were whirring obnoxiously loud trying to cool his overheated systems.
"Hehehe~ if I'd known you'd do something like that, I would've started playing with you sooner."
"I wouldn't be against it, but you're biting off more than you can chew here love."
"Hm? I don't know about that. How about a round two then?"
You giggled when you saw the same mischievously competitive gleam in the overlord's eyes.
This had always been a fun little push and pull between you both, and it probably always will be.
"Oh my dear, you didn't even have to ask."
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juniperstale · 2 months
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think i like you, best when you're just with me — ashlyn, aiden, taylor
⋆ jealousy they feel even though you're not dating [ . . . gn!reader, sfw, lowercase intended little angsty but fluff at the end, jealousy, aiden calls reader a bbg as a joke but im still considering this gn, reader is described as attractive (ashlyn), reader is described as pretty (aiden), cursing, taylor is very ooc . . . ]
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ASHLYN is someone who is very in tune with her emotions. she's very well connected with herself and knows immediately when she likes you. that doesn't mean she'll tell you though. as the leader, she believes it to be her job to keep the entire group safe and that means not getting into a relationship with you as to focus on the major problem at hand. unfortunately, that doesn't stop her from getting dejected at the sight of you being flirted with.
you are attractive, everyone can agree on that. and you are not hers, that is a plain fact. yes, you two flirt sometimes, but that doesn't matter because she immediately stops and walks away when she feels things are getting too real. it's only to protect you, after all. maybe, after this was all done and over with, you two could be happy, together, in a relationship, as a couple.
her eyebrows furrow as she watches the scene in front of her unfold. she was clearly disgusted, her already mean rbf becoming ten times worse.
"okay well your shirt just looks really nice!" the stranger complimented as you looked down at her, a warm smile resting on your face. ashlyn was beside you the entire time, her arms crossed as she glared at the stranger. "thank you, thank you! well, it was nice to meet you-" you were tryng to end the conversation as quickly as you could so you could get back to hanging out with ashlyn who you could tell was frustrated. "ah! wait before you go could i have your instagram? number even?" the question caught you off guard but before you could respond ashlyn did so for you. her heart burned at such a question, even though you weren't hers, she was used to people just assuming you two were in a relationship when you were together and backing off of you. she was frustrated, no furious, that someone dared to make a move on you, her face contorting from her rbf to a scowl. "no." she replied for you, coldly, grabbing your hand and turning around as she sped off with you.
once you were at a far enough location, you were quick to question her. "what was that about ash?" you asked sincerely as you sat next to her on the bench, watching passerby's go about their lives. "you know what it was about." she responded quickly, avoiding eye contact as you let out a sigh. "i don't get it, if you like me you'd ask me out like the others, no?" you questioned again as she turned to look at you. "if you want to be in a relationship just say yes to 'the others,' no?" she questioned back as it became your turn to avoid her gaze. you stayed quiet for a few seconds before letting out a small, "i only want you though." with her super human hearing, she obviously heard you clearly, the tips of her ears turning a pretty shade of pink as she looks down at her feet, than back up at you, a sudden boost of confidence taking over her as her hands cup your cheeks, forcing you to look at her.
"trust me, the moment i can, i will."
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if there is one word to describe AIDEN, it would not be quitter. from the moment he laid his eyes on you, you were his; to him and everyone around the two of you. he courted you relentlessly, flirting with you, buying you expensive gifts, dropping you off to your classes, picking you up. honestly people at your school eventually just assumed that it was no longer courting but that you were actually in an official relationship. and aiden was happy with that assumption, it only bothered him that strangers didn't also think so.
going to the nearest gas station, you and aiden decided to pick up snacks for yourselves and the rest of the group as an apology for being late. while at the cash register, you couldn't help but notice the nervous worker looking at you up at down as you took the items out your basket for him to scan. "is something the matter?" you ask him, to which he only blushes and shakes his head, avoiding eye contact with you while scanning all the snacks you were purchasing. you look down to grab your wallet which aiden stops you from doing by grabbing your arm, giving you a wink while whispering a joking "i gotchu, don't worry my baby girl." you only hit him back, a small laugh escaping you lips as you shake your head no before making eye contact with the cashier once more.
"you're so pretty." your eyes widen as aidens head practically shoots up to glare at the poor cahier whose thoughts accidently fell out of his mouth as words. "excuse you?" aiden questions as he swipes his card. "oh im so sorry! i didn't mean to say that!" he fumbles nervously, confirming aidens payment and grabbing bags as he clumsily places the snacks in. "it's totally fine! don't worry about it," you can't help but giggle at his behavior, watching the cashiers eyes grow even wider and blush get darker as he hands aiden the bags, wishing you a good rest of your day. you (and aiden) feel his eyes on you, watching you exit the store as you turn slightly, raising your hand to send him a goodbye wave but aiden grabs your hand before you can, effectively dragging you out of the store and to ashlyns place.
the walk was quiet and the atmosphere between the two of you were thick once you were reunited with the rest of the group. you all worked on your project a bit and argued over what the best next move to make would be before deciding to go to sleep. to your surprise, aiden still took his spot next to you as the entire group fell into a short slumber. unfortunately for you, the events of the day were still playing in your mind, causing you to fall in and out of a state of drowsiness. it didn't help that you could also feel aiden shifting next to you as well before he finally gave up on trying to avoid holding you and wrapped his arms around you, pulling you into his neck.
"once we survive this night, we're gonna have to talk about making us official because if one more person tries to flirt with you, im going to lose my mind."
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TAYLOR is not one to be jealous. no matter what you're relationship with her may be, she is calm and collected and knows how to express her feeling in a healthy way. that's why it was so shocking for her to walk in on you kissing a girl she'd never seen before, someone you'd never told her about. she felt her heart shatter into a billion pieces as her eyes welled with tears. she didn't know why, the two of you weren't even in a relationship so she had no right to feel this way, right? right.
she made her way into an empty classroom, sitting down at one of the desks and laying her head into her arms as she sighed, remembering the moment once again. it was weird, her heart stung at the thought of it, it almost made her nauseous.
she only lifted her head when she heard the door open, prepared to apologize to some teacher about being in their classroom without permission. to her surprise it was you.
"hey can we talk?" you ask as you make your way over to taylor who shakily nods her head with a quiet yes. you sit yourself on top of the table her head was previously laying on, "im so sorry taylor, i didn't mean for you to see tha-" shes quick to interrupt you, placing her hands on yours. "no! its totally fine, we're teens of course your going to be kissing people." she states before looking down at the table once again. "it's just a little confusing." she says. "what is?" you ask, not understanding what she was getting it. "well, when i saw you kissing that girl it kind of hurt. like my stomach started churning and i got dizzy. then there was this feeling in my heart- hey why are you laughing!" she asks, genuienly confused at your sudden burst of laughter. "im sorry, sorry! it just seems like you got jealous because you have a little crush on me." you're quick to apologize and respond, bringing your face close to hers as she blushes, subconsciously leaning in before your lips finally touched. when you finally pulled away, out of breath, she continued tug your shirt wanting more, something that seemed very out of her character for her.
"im gonna keep kissing you until the lipstick from her lips is replaced with mine."
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4.14.24 ⋆ NOT PROOFREAD! bro taylors is so out of character towards the end wtf happened omg. anyways part 2 with tyler, logan and ben will be out soon. also its my first time writing for something that isn't bsd so lets see how this goes!
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the-entitie · 4 months
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Why didn't you say anything?
Poly TF 141 x sex-demon reader (male intended but has depictions of fem):
A|n: Based on this writer's amazing work and this artist's au. And now this is very long.... I can't just write porn can I? Of well.
Prt:2 is done <3 》》》》》
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Be warned I use more Catholic or deamon depiction of our succubus(male) reader, so please expect some body horror esk depictions. Also, the 141 are all in a polycule in this story.
CW: NSFW halfway through after the line break, sex addiction or dependence depicted for reader, threats to health, kind of eating disorder esk, talk of threats/acts of noncon and dubcon to reader (not focused on), polyamory, some talk of religion, why is this so long? And angst??? Ok....
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Thinking about being a demon who became the 141's spy. The blood of the damned that ran through you, making you that much more dangerous and that much better at your job.
You fell under the deadly sin of lust, but it's been so many decades that you can't quite remember how you came to be. Maybe reincarnation, maybe you were summoned. It doesn't matter anymore, but it still hindered your intake into the military. You were practically a veteran by the time Price picks you up and drags you into his team.
None of the 141 had ever worked with anyone demonic for an extended amount of time. There had been the call ins and times when they picked up failed missions, but none of them ever really worked with a demon.
Ghost, as a wraith, was the closest any of them had gotten to working with anyone similar to you.
You started out as someone they called to scope out information before a particularly threatening mission. You were just the help, the one they called when they needed a spy. Until they leaned about how every other task force would drop you within a month of calling you thiers.
Price had worried that it was something to do with you or your attitude towards teamwork when he had taken you in, made you one of his men.
That was before he noticed this kind of cycle you would go through. Just when a mission would start, you would pull back. You would separate from everyone, not cold turkey, yet you just wouldn't be present. The training room was one person short, or their would be one less person here on the quieter afternoons he didn't even know this team had.
It was after the missions that you would be more than present again.
You were there again when Soap wanted to run his lycanthopic body to exhaustion just so he could feel just a little more human with the pains it brought. When he was hyper, feeling like he needed to move, you were there to shove him. Drag him into a game of tag or chase or anything to help him move. Soap has never been good at sitting still.
When Gaz needed to be called from the purch he picked to preen his damp or irritated feathers on that was away from the busy noise of the base. Or when his Avian blood told him to take to the sky, you were happy to be taken for a flight or watch him loop around, watch him stretch his wings, across the star splattered skies.
And there you were outside with the nocturnal Ghost, saying you didn't need the sleep most nights and got bored. Even when his form would flicker, tendrils of shadows lashing around his open skin, something that made most run. You stayed with him, hummed a tune you can't remember the origin of, in a language probably only those as old as you would remember.
When Price was struck with phantom pain, when he would feel this pang on his wing only to realize it was from the one that didn't exist anymore. You were there with him. Happy to share a cigar with the smoke that smoldered was neither from his drag nor you. There to sit and fill in paperwork long into the night shift, to just exist around Price when the team was still settling in, or licking wounds.
In the more common areas where Soap would annoy Gaz into another game of cards. You were there to keep the peace.
It had taken Price longer than he was willing to admit to know what was going on. It wasn't some manipulative, carrot and stick, trick no. And it almost seemed like you hadn't consciously been doing it. Before it clicked.
You were a demon, a succubus, to be specific. You fed off of the emotion or the intent of sex.
And you only got that when you needed to get someone to talk. You only lean into it when it's needed for a mission.
He honestly felt stupid, like a leader that failed, but he was quick to right that failure. It wasn't like this team didn't run off and blow off steam together or that they left soap to struggle through his heat alone, nor did they leave Gaz to sit and brood alone. None of that.
And if you were a part of his team, this team, then you can't be starved. Can't be left to weaken, to crave, no. Price wouldn't stand it.
So he talked to the team. Told them his theory, his plan to fix it, and when the team had gotten over the hurt of leaving you alone and weak. They jumped at the opportunity.
Starting small.
Being more openly affectionate around you, never quiet reaching out but still letting the emotions linger.
Those play fights that Ghost would tap out of suddenly just kept going, and those thick visceral emotions none could quiet place the origin of; would hang so heavy in the air you could practically catch it between your teeth.
Those days Gaz would pull back, preen his wings alone; became fewer and far between. Now, the nearest team mate had a lap full of fluffled up wings and pleading eyes. And could Gaz use those honey coated eyes of his to glance up through his lashes and beg.
The quiet chuckles and this ever so pleased emotion would wind around Price's incisors, a satisfied thrill of the dragon flooding a palpable semblance of the satisfied job.
Price started talking about to the team, and they started trying to be more connected, more present, with you so you could have that nourishment. And if that meant that private room doors were left ever so lightly ajar during late nights spent with each other. No one mentioned it.
Soap was the first to notice the actual change.
Your eyes would flicker, puplis vibrating softly before it was shut down, and you would disappear. Or you would actually pull back. He was also the first to tell Price. And thier leader waisted no time.
"You good there, lutenent?" His voice calls softly into your quarters.
"All good Cap."
"Not so sure about that one soldier." Price presses on, taking a step further in to push the door more closed, "You don't play well with this team?"
"No, I have no qualms with any of you. Sorry if it seemed so."
"Ya do always talk so proper like you know?"
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"Apologies, old habits."
Price steps closer, easily taking the space offered my your open thighs. Letting that simmering feeling flush his skin.
"Maybe we should start making new ones. What do you say, Sugar?"
His hand hovered just over your throat, careful to keep you feel safe. Price of all people knows what a demon can do when cornered, and it wasn't like he wanted you to feel put off.
He sees what Soap saw, just as his palm cups the edge of your jaw, your pupils flicker. Body dropping almost leaning agaisnt him.
"Why didn't you say something, Suguar?"
"Not of my use in this team."
"You don't need to be useful to eat." He sounded almost angry, calming all the more when you do lean into him, "you never need to earn a meal. Just ask. We all want to help."
That night, he let you ride him.
Laid back against your bed, held your weight by your thighs, and let you set the pace. Even if he was so hard it hurt, or if your dark lion-esk tail would flick across the sensitive inside of his thigh. Or when he's come twice and is practically drooling before he notice just how much more like your kin you look.
He doesn't stop you from flicking a forked tongue over the overwhelmed tears, he only noticed the change at the hitch of your breath when Price tangles his scared hands in your hair. Accidently tracing the curving rams horns that has twisted around your more pointed ears.
Singing your praise, even as you tried and failed to explain that you don't matter in this, just his pleasure.
He shut that down real quick.
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youraverageaemondsimp · 10 months
Text
If I can't have you, no one can. // Yandere!Aemond Targaryen x Fem!Reader [ONE SHOT]
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Summary: Aemond cannot bear to watch you be married to someone else.
WARNINGS: nsfw content, mdni: dark themes, obsession, possession, major character death, angst(?), yandere!aemond, smut (p in v, fingering), violence, murder, creepy behavior. + not proofread.
WC: 1,450
Aemond has always been obsessed with you as far as he can remember, he remembers the moment he fell in love with you.
He was a young boy, recently recovering from the incident at driftmark, wearing bandages around his face to recover, he didn't get out of his room much, too insecure to show his face after the incident.
The rare times he was out was to converse with his sister Helaena, and in those exchanges was when he met you, you were a lady of a small house, assigned to Helaena as a lady in waiting, or a playmate. She had introduced you to him and he was reluctant and had his guard up at first, but eventually he warmed up to you, and soon became friends with you too.
You saw him without his bandages once, it was an accident, Aemond panicked and screamed at you to get out, being extremely insecure at the wound, and you immediately obeyed, not wanting to anger him further.
You found him crying in a corner for an odd reason, and he looked up at you, before wiping his tears away and looking ahead. You sat down next to him to which he was surprised by.
“Why are you crying?” you asked him, and he sniffed, “You can drop the acting, I know you think I'm hideous, a monster.” he spits bitterly.
You gasp at that before quickly reply, “I do not, your wound is a proof of your bravery, I do not know how you got it, neither do I intend to pry on it if you are not comfortable, but it is a reminder that you are brave. That you overcame a dire situation.” you say and he sniffs once again, he hated being seen so vulnerable but never in his life did he feel so accepted and loved.
And then went on to tell you how he got it and by the end of the story you were seething, “Those vile bastards, how could they do that?” you seethed, Aemond was surprised at that before he chuckled, “I wasn't planning on hitting them with the rock, they are my nephews after all.” he explained his side and you nodded, defending him and taking his side.
It was the moment he fell in love with you, watching you talk about he didn't deserve that, you didn't pity him, you shared his anger and wrath, and from that moment onwards, he wanted to have you.
As you both grew older, Aemond's love got more twisted and dark, his love becoming obsessive and suffocating, he refused to let any man gaze at you longer than needed, always staying by your side and only leaving when he had to. He would lay on your lap as you read to him before pressing kisses on his forehead, you eventually fell in love with him too.
You were unaware of his doings, he killed multiple people who he saw as a threat, a threat to your relationship, he wanted to rip everyone who touched you to shreds, he wanted you to be only his, forever and ever.
And so begun your secret relationship, he would pull you to an isolate area to shower you in kisses and lovebites, he made your father get a position in the small council so you could stay in the keep, he would sneak to your room at night from the secret pathways.
He remembers vividly when he took your maidenhead, promising to marry you as he spilled his seed deep inside of you. He was the happiest man alive in that moment, he thought about you swelling with his child, and how much of a great mother you would be.
His plans came to an abrupt stop when he heard that you would be marrying a Cregan Stark, in hopes of bringing more allies to back up Aegon's claim when they usurp the throne, and also that Cregan had taken interest in you so much that he was willing to break an oath, which is never done by any Starks.
He saw red in those moments, felt pure rage, how could they propose that? The realm be damned for hells. He would rather rain fire on the realm than watch you get married off to someone else.
But alas, he was bound by duty and had to watch you be married to him, the wedding took place in the keep like your father had insisted, as the North would be too cold for them to visit.
The consummation of your marriage was to be done in your chambers. You had left early because you didn't want this either. Cregan was talking to important lords and it seemed that it would take a while before he retired.
So you laid on your bed thinking of what to do when you heard the door of the passageway open and your head snapped to the side finding Aemond, he immediately wasted no time pouncing on you.
“Fuck, fuck I can't let him have you.” He breathes against your neck, trailing kisses down to your breasts, he pulled up the chemise revealing your intimate area and breasts before he latched his mouth onto one and suckled like a hungry babe.
His hand trailed towards your intimate area, finding it wet already, “Is this for me or for him?” he asks, and your breath hitches in your throat when you feel him press the fingers down on your clit, “Y-you.” you say and he smirks before his rubs small circles against your clit.
His fingers trail down further and prod at your entrance before he slides in a finger, you gasp when you feel his fingers hit the rough patch almost immediately, it seems as if he knew it by memory. He thrust his fingers in and out, watching you squirm and moan his name, he wanted to be inside of you so badly, so he pulled his fingers out and licked them clean.
He undid his breeches before pushing your legs apart and burying himself in your cunt, you moaned in pleasure as you felt him spilt you open, you wrapped your legs around his hips and encouraged him to move, his hands pinned yours to the side before he started moving and rutting his hips against yours
You moaned and chanted his name like a prayer, he hands left your hands to grope your breasts as he kissed your lips, he pulled away to look at your dazed expression as he felt you clenching around him knowing that you are close, he watched as you closed your eyes before moaning his name out loud and coming undone beneath him, he groaned at the pretty sight.
His thrusts became more sloppier before he pushed to the hilt and came inside you with a loud gasp.
You both were breathing heavily, you pulled your chemise down and turned to him, he plopped down beside you, doing up his breeches and you rested your head on his chest, the moment was so perfect, but the truth weighed on him like a curse, and so he got up and paced the room, angrily, wanting to do something, but knowing he won't be able to do anything without destroying the alliance.
He can't let Cregan have you either.
You sat up and looked at him and then the atmosphere of the room shifted into a sinister one, Aemond going mad to his obsession with each second, he slowly stalked towards you before he stood in front of you, caressing your face and leaning down to kiss you.
“You're mine, you belong to me, I can't let him have you, no no, you're mine.” he grunted angrily and just then something evil popped up in his head.
His hand slowly reached for his dagger, you watched him, confused.
“If I can't have you…… ” he trailed off before kissing you.
“No one can.” he whispered against your lips as he plunged the dagger straight into your chest, digging it in your heart and stabbed you, you gasped in pain before the light in your eyes faded, falling unconscious.
He pulled his dagger out and watched as you fell backwards onto the bed, the life leaving your body, the blood soaking your chemise and now the white blood sheets, he snapped out of his dark thoughts and felt the weight of the situation.
He panicked when he realised what he had done, he immediately left the room when he heard the door open, hiding in the passageway, having guilt weigh on him, but he also felt satisfied in a sick way that no one could ever have you now, just like he can't.
Cregan screamed for the guards and for some odd reason, this entire situation somehow was blamed on the blacks, accusing them of sending assassins to kill you, this only made Cregan support the greens more.
Aemond had achieved what he wanted, but he couldn't bear to live along with the fact that you were gone, feeling lonely, he went mad and so, he followed you.
That day, Alicent screamed when she found Aemond's dead body, a letter written to apologise to everyone for leaving them behind, but he couldn't bear to live without you.
And so you and Aemond went down as a tragic story of unrequited love.
Where everyone tells the stories of how Aemond was smitten with you since a young age, but he watched you get married off to someone else and also die in the same night, it was told how he mourned and grieved for you, succumbing to madness before finally following suit.
The story was more sinister than that.
However they wouldn't know.
Nobody would know the truth.
———
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sapphosclosefriend · 10 months
Text
- I need you by my side -
Pairing: Royal! Natasha Romanoff x Princess! Fem! Reader
Genre: fluff, smut, tiny tiny bit of angst
Summary: you have known Natasha pretty much your whole life and you never thought you'd end up marrying her. On your first night officially together you learn to appreciate each other in more than one way (Medieval AU)
Word count: 7.5k
Warnings: top! Natasha, bottom! R, Nat has a penis, virgin! R, arranged marriage, very brief drinking, kissing, size difference, SMUT, oral (Nat receiving), balls sucking, cum eating, nipple stimulation (R receiving), fingering (R receiving), squirting, vaginal penetration, rough sex, cumming inside, a whole lot of fluff
A/N: this story contains smut so anyone who isn’t 18+ DNI. Both sets of parents are shitty tbh, but I guess it's accurate to the time period? The aesthetic in my head was very much game of thrones for this one. This is so much longer than I intended!! As usual likes, reblogs and comments are very appreciated! Enjoy ♡
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It has been a long long day of making merry, a joyful celebration of honour and union for everybody, but also a dreadfully awaited day full of anger and resentment from your new spouse. You could feel it radiating off of her throughout the whole day, and the weeks prior for that matter, and the tiredness only makes her more frustrated as she walks next to you towards your now shared chambers. Her long legs and anger driven fast pace almost make it hard for you to keep up with her and for a moment the thought of telling her off crosses your mind, immediately followed by your father’s reprimanding voice, forcing you to calm down immediately. The moment the large wooden doors close behind you, the sight of the bed adorned with rich fabrics and clearly made to harbour two newly wed people makes you freeze as you can only move your eyes from to bed, to the other girl’s back on the balcony and back towards the bed. You both know what you’re expected to do and unfortunately sleeping the exhaustion away is not yet included.
In the meantime, Natasha’s blood boils even more now that all the tension she’s been holding back in favour of decency is coming back in the confinements of her, no, your private room. The thought of what she’s been forced to do only makes her feel that all too familiar anger that’s been eating her up for months now: she’s always known that she was eventually going to have to marry someone of a certain status and that the range of possible candidates was quite small, but she thought that the last word would be hers, it was promised to her! But the moment you became of age it was all clear, it was going to be you, it was always going to be you, there was never anybody else for her parents. All those times where they visited your family because of what they would say was a special friendship between them and your own parents, where she was always made to play with you, to sit next to you, to take you on walks, to talk to you, get to know you, it was all a lifelong plan to get to this very specific moment, you and her married. The fresh night air helps cool her temper as she turns around to lean against the cold stone of the balcony railing and looks at you, nervously pouring yourself a cup of deep red wine, only tasting a sip of it before repeatedly tapping the metal cup, lost in thought. She feels a lot of guilt whenever she thinks about you because, although she’s never been outwardly rude to you, it’s clear that you feel as part of her problem and that her reassurances don’t help ease your mind at all. The only people she’s deeply angry with are her parents, but seeing your sweet eyes, knowing how hopeful you’ve always been of finding a person to love for the rest of your life and that person forcibly being her, reminds her of how your lives have never truly been yours and how naive you’ve been for thinking otherwise at the empty words of reassurance coming from your parents. She knows she has to try at least, if not for her family, for you, for the respect she has for you, so she takes one last breath of fresh air to ease her nerves and walks back inside.
The smell of her favourite incense and the dim lights coming from all the candles give her a small sense of comfort as she slowly walks towards you, standing next to the table still with your wine in your hand, and pours herself her own cup, which she downs in one go.
“I was very happy to be able to catch up with Yelena, it had been a long time since I had last seen her”
At your words she looks down at you and can’t help but give you a little smile at your attempt at breaking the ice, knowing you’re not the most outgoing person
“She was very happy too, she couldn’t wait to see you”
She goes to sit on the bed as she talks, making your mind go back to that imminent moment. Seeing you nervously swallow the lump in your throat, she pats the spot next to her and intently looks at you as you set down your cup and walk towards her, taking a seat on the soft mattress: you can clearly feel the heat of her body with how close you are and secretly savour it as you both keep looking in front of you to avoid meeting your gazes. There’s a long pause where only your slightly shaky breathing and the distant sound of the celebration going on without you two can be heard, before her voice, strangely uncertain and almost a whisper, breaks the silence
“Have you ever done this before?”
You were kind of expecting it, but the question still makes your heart stop
“…kind of”
At your small voice she turns to look at you, confused by your answer
“What do you mean “kind of”?”
“I’ve done something, but not…all of it”
There’s almost guilt in your words and after reluctantly looking at her and meeting her expectant gaze, you go on
“There was someone who was always very…interested in me..”
You can feel her brain working hard and the realisation getting closer and closer until
“Wait, you don’t mean…”
You can barely give her a side look, feeling regret at your own actions from the past
“What?!”
“I know, I know!”
You really can’t look at her now, knowing her opinions on that certain Someone
“Not that asshole!”
“Yes, well, of course I didn’t listen to you and…I got used like a whore. But I’ve never been touched, if that’s what you wanted to know.”
She watches you looking down at your own fiddling hands with sympathy and sadness, knowing how genuine and even naive you can be with your selfless trust in people. Her hand on yours almost startles you and gives her the chance of taking your own in hers: you can see a small, healing cut on her knuckle and her rough palm, testimony of her constant sword training, is warm against yours, except for the two small, golden rings, which feel like ice against your own skin. The moment you take your eyes off your joined hands to look at her you find her eyes already on your face, making you look back down
“You have, right?”
“Yes, how do you know?”
You let out a small chuckle and start playing with one of her rings without even noticing, catching Natasha’s attention to the action
“You and that girl, it was quite clear, you know?”
Of course you noticed, you always did, you were almost too good at reading her considering that you didn’t see each other that often. That time, during one of her family’s visits, a girl with beautiful red hair was with her when she arrived and, although she was introduced to everybody as a normal lady in waiting, you immediately caught the glances and small touches between the two. Another moment of silence engulfs you two and you can’t keep your mind from spiraling at what’s going to happen soon. Not even Natasha’s ring is enough to keep you calm anymore, so you just let go of her hand and finally tell her what you’ve been wanting to say since you got alone. She’s still thinking about how much she surprisingly misses your hand in hers when your words startle her
“You don’t have to do anything you don’t want, I know you’ve never wanted any of this and I’m sorry that you were forced into it…I know that we have to do this, but you shouldn’t if you don’t want to”
Your words make her heart swell at how thoughtful you are to her, unlike her own family, before guilt takes over her once again
“I want to do this…with you. To be honest I’m happy that you’re the one I’m stuck with”
Her playful tone makes you giggle and look at her, getting caught off guard at the small traces of happiness on her face, finally getting free of that constant frown that you’ve consistently seen on her as of late. She finally looks back at you and once your eyes meet it seems like you’re really looking at each other for the first time in a while. She’s always been known to be one of the most beautiful people of the realm, so it was never that big of a shock to look in the eyes of what could easily be a goddess amongst mortals and be taken back by all that beauty and all the small details that make her so unique with nothing but adulation. You’ve never been scared of displaying your appreciation for anyone, so seeing your look of fondness towards her doesn’t surprise her at all.
On the other hand, Natasha finds herself truly entranced by you for the first time since you’ve known each other: she’s almost surprised to notice just how beautiful you are and how all those comments made by her friend, even if quite crude most of the time, were not the nonsense she made them to be.
“You do realise that anyone would pay to be in your place, right? You whine like a baby because you have to chat with her or something, it’s not like you have to marry her. And even if you did you’d get to have a go at it with her every night”
The familiar words make her grimace at the thought of such comments being made behind your back but the faint feeling of jealousy deep in her is enough to bring her mind back to you, sitting so close to her and looking up at her with such timid adoration that in that moment she can’t keep her eyes from finally moving down on their own towards your lips, looking so inviting she doesn’t even realise she’s slowly moving closer to you until the air you exhale melts together and your lips touch each other every time you breathe
“Natasha”
Your whisper ignites something inside of her and what could be considered almost curiosity makes her move just enough so that your lips are finally fully on hers in a small kiss that makes your heart beat so fast it feels like it’s trying to escape from your chest to get to Natasha. Oh Natasha, she’s the only thing that exists in that moment, just Natasha, nothing else. As soon as you part you barely have time to look into each other’s eyes and for her to admire your panting state before she’s cupping your face and leaning in once again, making you melt into the kiss while you try to turn your body towards her. You are thankful that you’re sitting on the bed, otherwise you’re sure your knees wouldn’t have been able to keep you upright. You still reach for her shoulder for support as your lips move against each other slowly, deepening the kiss more and more until you can feel her tongue on your lower lip, asking for permission and being granted it when you lightly suck it, making her moan lowly and break the kiss to catch her breath. You can’t help but admire her and reach for her hand, still under your jaw, to hold it in your own, making her open her eyes at the gentle action. In that moment, sitting on the edge of her bed so close to each other you’re almost in her lap, breathing hard from all the nervousness finally wearing off thanks to the act of newly found intimacy between you two, you truly feel the need for each other, not something necessarily carnal, but a deep need to have the only person who could really understand what you’re going through and who could support you through all of it by your side. You don’t know how much time you spend kissing, you just know that you can feel yourself grow more and more restless at her wandering hands caressing your arms with a touch so light goosebumps grow under her fingertips.
You have no idea of what has gotten into you, maybe it’s her intoxicating smell, or the way she’s now firmly holding your waist with one hand, or her frustrated sighing every time she catches her other hand searching through the seemingly never ending fabrics of your gown for a snippet of skin, or maybe it’s just all the stress you’ve been subjected to lately, but you are sure of one thing, you need to feel her, as much of her as possible.
In a spur of bravery you get on your knees on the mattress and do your best to straddle her lap without tripping over the layers of your dress, finally succeeding and finally being able to feel more of the heat coming off of her that you've been enjoying since you've sat next to one another ot the bed. Your faces are finally at the same height and for the first time you can see her enchanting emerald eyes even better. You move some small strands of hair that have fallen on her face to briefly take a better look at her, before your lips are connected once again and your hands are tangled in her hair. You can clearly feel Natasha's hands move over your back, repeatedly shifting down to the small of your back and stopping herself from going lower, making you whine as you take her hands and move them to your ass, getting a small groan out of her at your sudden boldness. She's finally able to reach your skin, after not so little effort of going through the fabrics of your skirt, when your lips leave hers to move down to her jaw and neck, leaving shy pecks hiding the deep hunger you suddenly feel for her. The gentle touch of your mouth on the sensitive skin of her neck and your small unconscious movements over her crotch start making it hard for her to hold back to let you go at your own pace. She loses control just for a second once you feel something poking your center and ground your hips over it with a little bit more will with a small muffled moan, and she moves her hands towards your front to try to reach for your breasts but fails to do so
"Damn dress"
The frustration of once again not being able to get to your skin almost makes her growl the words, getting your attention and making you stop yourself to look at her expectantly
"Sorry, it's just always in the way"
"Well…would you help me get out if it then?"
The clear contrast from your previous slightly daring demeanour and now your usual shy tone interests her and after a nod from her you get up from her lap and stand in front of her, still sitting on the edge of the bed, looking at you turning around and asking her to loosen up the laces of your fitting dress. The pads of her fingers briefly go over the skin of your back where the fabric ends as she reaches for it, making you not so subtly shiver at the anticipation you now feel, in clear contrast with the almost fearful nervousness that dominated you once you first got alone with her. Once she's done with her task you slide your arms out of the sleeves and are finally able to feel the fabric slide down your body and stop at your hips, catching some resistance at the tight fitting and exposing your torso to the cool night air coming from the balcony. Your hair put in an intricate updo gives her a clear view of the creamy skin of your back and makes Natasha feel even more anticipation once your hands move to your hips to push the dress past them to let it slide down your body, leaving it a heap of embroided fabric on the ground. You once again feel your heart beating out of your chest at your now fully naked body exposed to Natasha and you suddenly seem to be frozen in place, not able to turn around and fully face her. Her warm hand gently touching yours startles you but the following sound of her voice immediately puts you at ease a little
"Wait, let me do something"
You immediately miss her hand once it leaves yours and soon after you hear her getting up from the bed and moving a little to do something. After a little bit she gently puts her hand on your shoulder and rubs her thumb over your skin to hopefully help soothe your nerves before speaking in the most gentle tone you've ever heard from her
"Remember that you don't have to"
She's the first person to tell you that. Since your birthday all your life has been revolving around this marriage, everything you've been made to do has been in favour of this event, most of the things your parents have said to you lately were commands on what you needed to do in order to be a good and honouring daughter. She's the first one to tell you such a thing, she's the first one to give you a choice in a situation where you've never had one, she's the first one to see you as a person in this circumstance and not as trade goods. She understands you and she understands the way you feel because she's gone through the same. You're on the same level. You suddenly turn around to look at her and for a second you almost miss the way she's completely naked too, taking you by surprise at her bare body
"This way we can both see each other"
She once again talks with that gentle and caring tone that this time makes your heart swell a little just for her. Your loving gaze is lost in her entrancing eyes when her hand slowly takes yours and moves it higher and higher, leaving it on her chest and making you feel the faint beating of her heart, soothing you for a moment, also thanks to the tiny reassuring smile she gives you. You do the same to show her your willingness to put all of yourself in this with her and take her hand and put it on your own chest. You don't say a word but you understand each other surprisingly well, making you both for once relieved of such a marriage and the chance of being one another's companion instead of some stranger. It's true, in all the years of knowing each other you've never been extremely close but you've certainly never hated one other. Sure, sometimes Natasha may have been annoyed at having to spend time with you but it was mainly because she was once again forced to do something by her parents. In all honesty, being with you always ended up helping her get over her irritation. You once again catch yourself getting lost in thought while fidgeting with her golden necklace with her family's sigil on it, but clearly catch the warmth of her hand leaving your chest to lightly caress your cheek before gently pushing under your chin to lift your gaze to her
"I need you by my side"
Her whispered words are barely audible but sound crystal clear to you
"Always"
You know that, from now on, you're the only two people who can help the other, you need to be strong for each other.
Before you know it her hands hold you on each side of your face to kiss you once again, taking your breath away at the need you both feel for the other. Her hands soon move down to your back to pull you flush against her front, getting you the closest you've ever been and making you reach for her shoulders to hold onto. The feeling of her soft skin against yours seems to never be enough and you realize you're pushing her to get impossibly closer too late, only when her back hits the mattress and you almost land on top of her
"Sorry-"
She doesn't let you finish before she's pulling you in again to keep your mouth on hers and she's grabbing your ass for the first time once you fully straddle her hips, making you whimper at the intimate act. You're both breathless, you know it, and the last thing you want is to stop kissing, but you need to take a small break and, once you part, you take the chance to sit up and unmake your updo, letting your hair fall down your back, taking out as many of the golden pieces of jewellery in it as you can and letting the smaller braids here and there done not to waste any more time. You're aware of your position and you secretly savour the way Natasha grips your thighs at the feeling of your bare center on hers. Feeling slightly confident you lean down to give her one last kiss on the lips before moving downwards, leaving small pecks on her neck, collarbone and chest, and then leaving her lap to get to her abs and lower abdomen, looking up at her after noticing her breathing quickening a little bit and catching her slightly clouded eyes looking back you. Right before being able to kneel down she offers you one of the many pillows from the bed, preventing you from being in pain from kneeling on the hard stone floor and puts another one under her head to get a better view of you between her legs.
The anticipation takes over the nervousness you feel at the sight of her semi hard cock in front of you and before you can get too anxious you reach with your hand to wrap around it, slowly pumping it a couple times and immediately getting a small, low moan from Natasha. You're not sure you've ever heard anything hotter than that and the excitement from making her feel good makes you more and more eager to please her as best as you can, so you keep moving your hand up and down until she's fully hard and a small bead of precum has formed, looking too tempting not to taste and making you reach over to give a small lick to her tip. You moan from finally being able to taste at least a little bit of her and at the same time Natasha hisses at the feeling of your tongue on her making her twitch.
You don't think you can wait anymore after getting a glimpse of her, so you get comfortable and finally fully wrap your lips around her tip, gently sucking it for a bit, if not to get yourself used to it, then to hear her groans again and again. Her hand moving towards your head excites you more than you'd like to admit and you'd lie if you denied the small disappointment you feel when it gets to your hair just to keep it out of the way with a makeshift ponytail. You realize it, you want her, all of her and she needs to know, so to try and make her understand it, feeling too embarrassed to say it to her face, you take more and more of her, doing your best to relax your throat and not gag too much around her surprisingly girthy cock. Her pants turn into loud groans once you do your best to look up at her as you slowly take all of her down your throat in one go, stopping only when your nose hits her crotch and staying like that for a couple seconds before lifting yourself off of it and sucking a deep breath while a string of spit still connects your mouth to her tip. To give your throat a small break you keep pumping her with your hand while you move downwards to lick her balls a couple times before taking one at a time in your mouth and very gently sucking them, making her curse out loud and sending a shiver through your whole body at the sound.
After a little bit you go back to her cock to take it back in your mouth, moaning at her taste and making her grip your hair tighter at the vibrations of your voice on her. You know she's close and you know you want her to take her orgasm from you herself, so you reach for her hand and make it lay flat on top of your head, before giving it a small push, hopefully making her understand what you want. She does, oh she does. After letting out a breathy chuckle at your eagerness she looks at you go back to your ministrations and guides you through it, making you take more and more of her until she's pushing you all the way down her cock and your gagging and her groans are all that can be heard in the room. She's close, so close and you know it, so you open your eyes to look back at her and meet her gaze already on you, before you reach for her balls to lightly fondle them, making her reach her orgasm in a couple more thrusts and finally feeling her cum in your mouth. You gently keep sucking her tip through her high until she's fully done and takes her cock out of your mouth
"Show me"
You don't expect her words but feel excitement when you open your mouth to show her all her cum on your tongue, and she bites her lip at the view
"Good, go on"
Her voice, still panting, and her taste as you swallow all of her cum makes your center ache like never before, even more so when you open your now empty mouth to show her that you've done it and she smirks
"Very good, you've done so well for me"
Her praise makes you smile at her and you can't keep yourself from climbing on the bed to kiss her briefly before she moves to make you lie down with your head resting comfortably on the fluffy pillows while she positions herself between your legs. Your new position gives you the perfect opportunity to fully explore her body, feeling her defined muscles under her velvety skin with every brush of your hands over her shoulders, her arms, her abs, her back, her ass, her thighs. She looks even more godly now, looming over you with her large, sculpted frame, looking quite bigger than you, and essentially trapping you between her and the bed. You don't feel trapped though, you feel safe and free, as you lie under her, with the knowledge that she's not here to take something from you, but to have an exchange, that she's accepting what you have to offer with a deep respect for you and your relationship.
The small traces of boldness you felt when you were pleasuring her disappear, as doubt takes over your mind: will you do a good enough job? Will she like your body? Will the fact that you're new to some things make her lose her excitement?
She immediately senses your uncertainty and can almost see your racing thoughts behind your eyes, getting her a little worried
"Are you alright?"
"I just…I don't know what to do now"
You can't even meet her gaze as you almost whisper the words, her constant and extremely casual confidence making it hard for you to admit your helplessness
"Let me do it then, hm?"
She waits for you to look at her and nod back before giving you a sweet smile and laying her palm on your cheek, savouring the way you subtly snuggle into its warmth, making her heart swell at how small you look right now. She leans down and kisses you gently over and over until she feels your tense body relaxing little at a time under hers and, once she feels you slacken, she finally lets her hands wander, gently gliding them over your body as if to not only lull you further, but also to imprint its curves and feel into her own mind. It's only once your breathing quickens and you kiss her more hungrily that she lets herself tentatively reach closer and closer to your chest, cupping your breasts once your hands tighten on her biceps to pull her closer.
The breathy whimper you let out once she lightly swaps her thumbs over your nipples, breaking your kiss, makes her even more excited and curious to find out what other sweet noises she can get out of you, so she moves her lips over your neck, leaving kisses here and there to find your sweet spot and indulging herself into leaving visible marks over your skin, getting spurred even more by your nails slightly scratching over her back and the subtle rocking of your hips. Moving lower and lower she finally comes face to face with your chest and feels pride at the sight of your already panting state, getting even more determined to make you feel as much as she can, so she finally wraps her lips around your right nipple, making you moan out loud and grip her hair harder than you intended. If she's able to make you feel so euphoric even with the simplest of touches, you can't even imagine how you're going to keep yourself grounded later on.
Your body feels like it's on fire and every single snippet of your skin that comes in contact with hers makes you long for her more and more.
She spends quite some time paying attention to your chest, sucking your nipples and the skin around, certainly getting it bruised and sending even more shivers through your body at the thought of being marked by her.
You're so lost in the moment that you don't feel one of her hands leaving its place on your breast to move lower, startling you when it makes contact with your very inner thigh, still wet from you previously rubbing it with the other while on your knees. She sucks your nipple on last time before kissing you while propping one of your legs over her hip and slowly gliding the pads of her fingers up your thigh, getting closer and closer to their destination and making your anticipation grow like never before. The moment her fingers get right below your hip bone she parts from you and looks you dead in the eye, searching for any sign for her to stop and when you give her a small nod she finally lets herself touch you, gently running her fingers up and down your surprisingly soaked slit, making you gasp at the contact and sending a wave of arousal through both of you.
Soon enough, after getting used to the feeling of someone else's hands on the most private part of your body, you can't help yourself from slightly rolling your hips in search of something, anything more, so she finally moves her ministrations directly over your clit, rubbing it slowly in circular motions and making you moan more loudly than you expected. You get even more excited at the feeling of her cock twitching on your thigh every time you moan for her, so you take one hand out of her hair and move it down to grab and pump her, making her hiss at the feeling of your hand back on her, while she keeps touching your clit and occasionally lower, closer to your entrance. You immediately miss her once her fingers leave your center as she gets them closer to your mouth
"Taste yourself"
The rasp behind her voice almost makes you miss her actual words at how hot it sounds, but you're still barely able to make out their meaning, so you grab her hand and suck on her wet fingers, moaning at the taste of your own arousal on your tongue and the feeling of her fingers in your mouth. Once you've sucked them clean and gotten them wet, she takes them out of your mouth and moves them back to your clit, rubbing it one last time before gently probing at your entrance and slowly pushing a finger inside, looking for any sign of discomfort from you before adding another one at the sight of none. You can barely whine as you bite your lip to prevent yourself from moaning too loudly, feeling embarrassed at how your cunt tries to suck her fingers in by tightening around them over and over. Once she's knuckle deep inside of you, you let out a deep breath at the faint pulsing of your clit against the palm of her hand, and look at her with watery eyes at the pleasure you feel even from her fingers staying still inside of you, giving away your extreme arousal when you tighten around her from a small kiss on your lips
"Can I move?"
She whispers her words but you can clearly understand her and quickly nod with big pleading eyes
"Please!"
She can't help but groan at your enthusiasm and barely moves her fingers in and out of you, focusing more on massaging your front wall little by little, getting you used to the sensation and making herself even more frustrated each time she feels your walls spasm around her fingers instead of her cock. She's been extremely patient since you've first gotten on your knees for her and the need to take you and feel you has been eating her up more and more, but the last thing she wants is to make you feel pressured by her, the last person you should feel unsafe with, so she does her best to keep herself grounded and fully focuses on you.
She gradually keeps increasing the pressure of the pad of her fingers on the spongy spot inside of you she easily found, making you embarrassed by the lewd, wet noises that come from your center with each stroke of her fingers and only getting you out of your own head with a particularly hard thrust that gets you freely moaning and tightly gripping the sheets under you. The muscles of her arm get even more defined from the task at hand and her breathing starts shaking from your wet walls engulfing her digits so tightly and the look of ecstasy on your features as she essentially takes your breath away. You're so close, so close to finally cumming undone for her for the first time, so close to the sweetest release
"Natasha! I'm-"
You can barely call her name before your orgasm crushes over you like a tidal wave at full force and runs through your whole body. She can't keep herself from basically growling at just how tight your walls regularly spasm around her fingers and the sight of small droplets of clear liquid coming out of you with every thrust, wetting her wrist and creating a small patch on the sheets under you. It takes you a bit to get down from your orgasm and once it stops, you can't help but sob from how intense it was, slightly shaking from time to time from the aftershocks
"Are you alright? Was it too much?"
There's genuine worry in her voice and eyes and you feel the need to kiss her, hopefully freeing her of her concerns as well
"It was perfect, Natasha"
You barely get to mumble the words against her lips before you need to kiss her again and again until your heart doesn't feel like it's beating out of your chest anymore. She uses your moment of blissed distraction to take her fingers out of you, trying not to cause too much discomfort and breaks the kiss to suck her fingers clean, lowly moaning at your taste on her tongue for the first time.
The sight makes the desire you've been feeling, that's never truly left you yet, come back at full force, startling you at how easily she's able to cause such waves of arousal to run through you.
You can't wait anymore, you need to feel more of her inside of you so bad you might just cry if you can't have her immediately and, based on her hungry eyes and fully erect cock, she might be feeling just the same
"I need you inside of me Natasha"
If your mind wasn't clouded by such want you'd feel embarrassed by your own words and the extreme neediness in your voice, but you simply can't bring yourself to care about it right now and whine at the loss of her body's warmth once she leans back on her knees. You're at a loss for words once you give yourselves time to truly look at each other's naked bodies for the first time and not even the way she grabs your waist to gently slide you down the bed a little bit before putting a pillow under your ass is enough to get you distracted from the perfect sight in front of you. You're finally pulled out of your trance once she makes your thighs rest on top of hers and gets you to automatically wrap your legs behind her back, giving her easy access to your center. Her cock sitting heavy on top of your mound makes you just a little anxious at how big it looks near you, but, sensing your doubt, she immediately takes one of your hands and kisses its back as to hopefully soothe you
"We're going at your pace"
Her words do help you a little but you still feel incredibly nervous, so much so that it seems like you suddenly get aware of every single thing near or on you, the cold golden earrings near your jaw, the soft fabric against your back, the slightest breeze of cooler air over your arm-
"You don't have to…not tonight if you don't want"
Her words, accompanied with a soft rub over your knee finally get your mind back to the moment and remind you, once again, that you can trust her and she won't judge you for anything
"I want it! I want it…"
You reach for her thigh to lightly squeeze it as to further reassure her and, once she gives you a brief nod, you smile at her and very slightly move your hips back and forth to feel her cock slide over your clit, signaling to her that you're more than ready. Natasha feels anticipation like never before once she grabs her own cock and moves her hips back a little to line it up with your entrance, making you tighten around nothing at the lewd sight of her spitting on it to get it all wet before grabbing your hips and slowly pushing in the head.
Your mouth opens in shock at the surprisingly not painful yet still almost extreme stretch and your eyes are pulled away from the sight of your centers getting closer to each other the more she pushes inside, at the sound of her voice as she curses under her breath. Your walls feel even tighter than they did around her fingers and it's really hard for her to keep herself from taking you immediately, but of course your comfort is her first priority at the moment, so, once she's fully inside of you, she stops for a bit, waiting for you to feel comfortable enough for her to move. On the other hand, the pleasure she makes you feel already starts clouding your mind and at the feeling of her staying still, completely inside of you, you can't help but let your head fall back on the mattress and let out a loud whine before looking up at her with pleading eyes
"Please Natasha! I'm ready, I promise! Please!"
That's it, there's no going back now.
She squeezes your hips quite hard as she slowly pulls out to the tip, pushing back inside a bit more quickly and going like this over and over, making you moan a bit more each time, until she sets a steady pace, getting lost in the feeling of your walls wrapped around her. You barely realize it when you're suddenly moving one of your legs to prop it on her shoulder, making her reach different spots than before, sending shock waves through your body and making you squeeze her tighter. Intent on making you feel even better, she almost immediately takes your other leg from her hip and puts it over her other shoulder, ripping a loud moan out of you from the feeling of her cock now reaching your sweet spot more easily with each thrust. The sight of your hands going from gripping the bed sheets to playing with your own nipples makes her throb inside of you and, needing to go even deeper into you, even if impossible, she lets go of your hips and puts her hands on each side of your head, getting as much leverage as she can, while still keeping your legs against her shoulders, to set a new pace, slower but with much harder thrusts, essentially knocking your breath away at the force with which her hips meet yours
"You're so beautiful"
Unfortunately you can barely register her words and find it impossible to form a single word, but try to find her wrist next to your face to give it a squeeze and hopefully make her understand if not that you think the same, at least that you appreciate her telling you that.
You know that in a short time it'll be almost impossible for you to keep yourself from tumbling into another breathtaking orgasm and you try your best to tell her, even though you know she's probably already aware of it by the way your cunt keeps squeezing her more and more
"I'm! I'm going to-"
She was waiting for you to say it yourself and hearing your straining voice trying to get the words out gets her close as well and, before she knows it, she's leaning down on her forearms, basically trapping you under her and reaching impossibly deeper inside of you
"Fuck Natasha!"
You didn't think her thrusts could get any harder, but you were wrong, her rough movements and panting groans right next to your ear are too much for you and get you to an orgasm even harder than the one before in only a couple of seconds. She tries her best to keep herself from cumming to keep thrusting into you and help you through your high, but your desperate moans, your nails raking over her back and your cunt squeezing her impossibly tight make it impossible for her to keep her orgasm from crushing over her. Her clear groans, the feeling of her cum deep inside of you and her, already balls deep, trying in vain to thrust even more into you, send an almost painful pang of arousal deep in you, pulling the last bit of energy out of you and leaving you limp under her large body.
Once her breathing has gone back to somewhat normal she finally lifts herself from her spot and comes face to face with you and only then, after you slightly hiss at her movement, she remembers that she's still inside of you
"Sorry"
There's a light sheen of sweat over her whole body, her mane of hair is tousled and her eyebrows are furrowed as she leans back to slowly pull out, trying not to make you feel too much pain also by gently running her hand up and down your side, making your heart swell at the sweetness behind her action. For a brief moment she looks slightly entranced by the sight of her cum slowly sliding out of you but soon moves away to let herself fall on her back next to you quite ungracefully, making you chuckle at her very non-regal manner. A comfortable silence falls between you two as you savour this moment of serenity and only now you notice how some of the many candles have died out, making the room feel even cozier.
Your droopy eyelids keep closing on their own accord, as exhaustion slowly starts taking over the both of you, but, right before you can drift off completely, her hand reaches over to hold yours one last time and her tired voice breaks the serene silence
"I'm very happy you're the one by my side"
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Tags: @fxckmiup @natashasilverfox
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