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t-a-a-1 · 2 days ago

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Can you do bayverse optimus ?Tlk if you can.It can be whatever you want i love your scrumptious writing hehe also ignore this if you're uncomfortable!^_^

Raindrops

Summary: Optimus asks you a very important question.

A/N: Written after the happenings of TLK. 4K Words

Raindrops

....

Everyday since he met you, he’s asked himself the same question.

“Would you come with me?”

It was a question he had imagined the answer to. A resounding ‘no’.

Optimus didn’t see any reason why you would want to go with him to Cybertron. Leaving your friends, family and career behind. All the commodities Earth provided you will be gone the moment you decide to come with him.

And it’s not like he offers you a beautiful home. Cybertron was hostile, after the war it had become ruins. He dreamed many times of showing you his home in its golden age. You would have loved the museums, the theaters, the libraries, the arts. Would you have loved them as much you love your planet? Would it be enough for you to want to stay?

“It seems Earth and Cybertron’s destiny has always been intertwined,” the sun is setting. Optimus looks at his home planet, now on Earth’s orbit. “If that had been any other celestial object, it would probably cause catastrophic events. But it seems like Cybertron was made to not disturb Earth’s gravitational pull and magnetic fields.”

Your field wasn’t physics but you had basic knowledge on how things worked. Just like he expected you to do, you started to ask the real questions. Something he was trying to avoid as long as he could.

“But I wonder if that’s because Cybertron currently lacks a core … Maybe once we are able to restore it, Cybertron’s gravitational pull will be too strong and destroy Earth.”

You look at him but he seems lost in thought. You didn’t blame him, having his home planet back must be unbelievable. After so many years of war and lost friends, what he always wanted is right here.

“When that happens, we’ll have to send Cybertron back to its original place in the universe.”

You expected him to continue the conversation some way or another but it's as if he wasn’t listening or rather he did not want to. Maybe he is tired of everything and wishes to leave immediately. Probably not wanting to deal with humans anymore.

Sighing heavily, you turn around, the wind moving your hair. The smell of the grass was strong and so a new aroma. It was hard to describe. Metal but alive. It was probably Cybertron. It didn’t bother you but it was different.

Looking back at Optimus made you realize that maybe he wanted to be alone. It is a lot of process for today.

“Well, then I guess this is goodbye–”

And suddenly, a servo is in front of you. Stopping you from walking any further. You look back, only to find Optimus’ faceplate extremely close to you.

“I-I … My apologies, I don’t know what took over me.”

It’s like you triggered something in him with your words. But you weren’t sure what. Now he looks confused and lost. As if I wanted to say more but can’t or don't have the words. You wanted to guess but your mind made you believe stupid ideas. Ones in which you prefer to not indulge any longer. They will only cause you unnecessary pain.

“It’s alright, you must be emotional. That’s all.”

You wait for a few seconds in which you could see Optimus’ blue optics in all of their glory. They were beautiful as they were mysterious. So close that you could see the small circuitry and cables that make up his optics. Such intricacy that you find yourself lost in them.

And then … you are ashamed.

“I must go.”

You say as you look away, expecting him to move his servo but he doesn’t.

“I must go.”

You say again and this time you see the hesitancy in his faceplace.

He slowly removes his servo and distances himself from you. His optics looks away and then looks at you in a repetitive manner.

“Do you–”

“I–”

“Oh sorry, you go first–” You raise a hand, trying to get his attention only to be interrupted by the Prime.

“No, you go first.”

It was awkward. And the fact that it was that way made you wonder what went wrong. In what moment did things between the two of you become so uncomfortable? Was it just the sudden realization of final peace? Was it too unrealistic for the two of you to believe? What is it?

“Nothing, I was just wondering if there’s something you wanted to say before I leave?”

Optimus servo clutch into fits. He opens his intake but nothing would come out. It was strange to see him this way. So confused, so … innocent. As if he was a kid trying to ask for another piece of cake. Too shy to ask and yet you find these small moments to be a treasure.

“I was just wondering …”

He hesitates again. He closes his optics and lets out a heavy vent. Turning his entire body around, you are unable to see his faceplate.

“When the time comes … Will you …”

His voice becomes so low that you are unable to hear him.

“What?”

You ask him, confused by his sudden lack of confidence.

“Will you … me?”

He says again but the loud wind and low tone voice weren’t helping the situation.

“... What?”

You ask once again, your voice gets louder, showing your clear annoyance at being unable to hear him.

“Will you come to Cybetron with me?!”

Suddenly, he turns around, you can see his faceplate again.

It was that expression again. One that you had only seen a few times. That of pure distress. Worriness. Anxiety. You had seen it before. During that time you had been captured by a Decepticon, badly injured and bleeding. His troubled expression was the last thing you saw before going unconscious.

But now? What was that distressed look for? What was he so worried about?

“I, I–”

What were you nervous for? Why were you stuttering? Your cheeks are getting hotter and you can’t speak. You can’t manage words. The expression on his faceplate had left you stunned as your brain tried to understand the reasoning behind it.

The longer you take to answer, the more pain is evident on his faceplate. His eyebrows squish together and his optics tremble. His lips formed a thin line that slowly became an upside down smile. He is begging you to end his torment and yet you know you have to tell him the truth.

It’s quiet around the hangar.

A small base had been built near Stonehenge. It was the logical thing to do after Cybertron had appeared above the ancient pillars. Although the American Government wasn’t too pleased to make negotiations with the British to let them have a base in their land.

You weren’t even supposed to be here but due to all the commotion in the last days, they let you stay. As well, Optimus and the rest of the Autobots enjoyed your stay. No one asked you when you will leave nor ever mentioned that you were a bothered. So you decided to stay for a couple of days until things settle down.

And because your boss had asked you to stay and bring back the full story when you are done.

“Are we just going to pretend Prime is ok?”

“Not like we can do much either or.”

They probably didn’t see you. As they were too busy talking to each other, carrying a few boxes of what you thought to be Energon. Meanwhile, you were typing on your laptop behind some piles of metal. It’s not like you were hiding but you rather found yourself a place where you could not be bothered when you needed to concentrate.

“I still can’t believe (Y/N) said no … I thought the two of them had a strong bond.”

“Yes but everything she knows is here,” Bumblebee puts down his box as Hot Rod walks close by. “Besides, they were too different … things wouldn’t work out.”

“But does she even know that Optimus’s processor has identified her as his Conjunx?” Hot Rod also puts the Energon box down and sits on top of it. “Boss-Bot won’t be able to attach to anyone ever again … Isn’t that a bit cruel?”

“Cruel?” Bumblebee inquiries. “His Conjunx is someone who lives a fraction of our lives. The universe enjoys the game and the Primes are the pawns.”

“And they know how to play well.”

It started to rain. It wasn’t unusual for rain to come and go in England.

The bots look at it with amusement. This was unknown in Cybertron. It will take a long time before they can rebuild Cybertron and go back home but this will be one of the things they will miss the most.

“What is a Conjunx?”

You came out of your hiding spot, behind the bots and they quickly stumble in their steps as they look down on you.

“What are you doing there?!”

“What is a Conjunx?”

You ask again, not caring whether Hot Rod or Bumblebee looked like they just had seen a ghost.

“You don’t need to know that,” Bumblebee quickly starts to walk away while Hot Rod keeps looking back and forth. He looks hesitant but doesn’t speak, waiting for Bee’s next action.

“You said Optimus saw me as his Conjunx,” you don’t move but rather speak loud enough for him to hear.

“Yes but there’s no need–”

“She should know,” Hot Rod interrupts the talking yellow Mustang.

“Optimus wouldn’t want it,” Bumblebee stops walking and turns to look at his comrade and you. There is certain determination in your eyes, letting him know that you won’t stop pushing it until you find the answers you were looking for. You had always been known for that, probably something Optimus likes about you.

“Optimus will die of sadness if she doesn’t know.”

Bumblebee doesn't say a thing but just ex-vents heavily.

“Would you stay with me?”

That’s what you wanted to ask but you already knew the answer. A resounding ‘no’. There was nothing for him on Earth. Humanity had once betrayed him and now he is doubtful. Humanity will help rebuild Cybertron and after that the transformers will leave. It would be a selfish thing to ask him to stay. You can’t ask him to give up on everything he fought for. His home, his family and friends, everything was on Cybertron. And you just were a human who wanted him to stay.

It’s still raining.

But that doesn’t mean you’ll stop looking for him.

Although you can already feel yourself getting sick. Your hair is wet and your clothes damp.

It wasn’t unusual to rain in England but you hated how unpredictable the weather was. The wind was also strong but the base was already too far away to back away now. You had to find him.

Suddenly, a truck you immediately recognized makes his way towards you. The bot you were looking for appeared in front of you but he aggressively stops and opens his pilot door, signaling to go in.

You didn’t hesitate and jumped right in. Optimus closes the door and starts driving away as you are welcomed with warmness. Although you were cold and tired, you didn’t wait any longer.

“I was looking for–”

“Have you gone mad?” Optimus asks, his voice showing his clear annoyance. “ What are you doing in the rain without proper protection?”

“What? That doesn’t matter, I was–”

You wanted to start asking questions but you started to sneeze.

“How can I leave knowing you are this helpless?”

And after that, all previous questions left your mind.

“Excuse me? I can take care of myself.”

“Your actions tell me otherwise.”

You roll your eyes, maybe he had a point. Running in the rain to look for him was probably not the best of ideas. But you were not about to tell him that.

“And what about you?” you sneeze again although more softly this time as to not to prove his point any further. “Aren’t you too told to be outside without an umbrella, you could be getting rusty anytime now?”

Optimus didn’t say a word. Your words will resonate at the back of his processor. He can’t believe he ever thought you would say yes to coming to Cybertron with him. You were right, he was an old rusty robot. Too many scars, too many mistakes and injuries. He can’t provide you with anything. Not even a family.

And yet he is selfish.

And you sneeze again.

And again.

“Great, I think I am going to get sick.”

He hates that word. Cybertronians also get sick but rarely. But humans are different. According to his research and observations, humans tend to get sick often and tragically a lot of them die.

Optimus didn’t want to say a word, his pride told him to stay quiet. That you don’t need his concern, you do not wish it nor want it.

But you sneeze again.

“I’ll be taking you to the closest hospital,” he says as he makes a turn, heading for the closest road.

“I am not going to the hospital, it's just a cold–”

“You are going to the hospital and it's final,”His voice is demanding but you don’t care.

“No, I won’t–”

“Why won’t you take my feelings into consideration?!”

His inside trembles. You could feel how his engine gets louder. The air coming from his vents got warmer and for a moment you felt your heart race. Out of guilt for making the Prime lose composure.

“What if you die?” he asks again. “What would I do after you are gone?”

The more he talks, the more desperate he sounds. As if he was living the circumstances he speaks of.

“Have you thought what my life would be like without your presence?” you feel the seatbelt across your chest get tighter. “Do you really wish for me to be tormented for eternity.”

“This isn’t about me going to the hospital, is it?”

He doesn’t respond, his silence answers your question.

“Let me out Prime, I want to talk to you, face to faceplate.”

He drives off the road and takes you to a heavy section of a nearby forest. Raining still, the tall trees prevent the rain from fully touching the ground. But some drops still make it through. Not like you cared about getting wet, you already were but Optimus had other plans.

Opening the door and removing the seat belt, you jump out of his alt form. You watch him transform, a scene you will never be tired of. It's beautiful as it is scary, yet he is gentle. He knows it can be scary and he moves slower, softly as if not to scare you.

Optimus doesn’t mass shift but he tries to see you at an eye-level. It must be uncomfortable for him and before you ask him why he doesn’t size-down, you feel him move closer.

He puts one of his large servo on top of you, protecting you from any rain from touching you.

“I want you to be honest with me,” you say as your breath is agitated, your heart pumping against your chest. “I need to hear it from you.”

“What do you feel for me?”

Without you knowing, Optimus’ spark is also pulsating strongly against his chassis. He moves his optics away for a second, only for them to return to look at you.

“You are a valuable asset to the Autobot cause.”

“Is that all?”

“You are also an important comrade.”

You didn’t expect him to fully understand what you were asking. But you were hoping he could read your undertones.

“I am giving you one last chance,” you say, your hands turning into a fist. You weren’t the best at this either and if you were honest, you didn’t know what you were trying to achieve. “Is that all you feel for me?”

The Prime has always been known to be eloquent. Especially with words. But when it comes to you, he loses all sense of vocabulary. It didn’t use to be that way. There used to be a time when you meant nothing to him but a friend.

But you had never stopped looking for him. After the attacks in Chicago, even after Sam’s death, an occurrence in which he blamed himself, you never stopped looking for him

What is it? Why did you do it?

“Look at the rain … Can you count each drop that falls from the sky?”

Optimus moves his optics to look at his surroundings. The rain, the trees, the beauty of nature. It cannot compare to you.

“No, I can’t,” you respond quickly, your face full of wonder.

“Then, you are the rain,” he says. “And I am trying to count.”

He sees your hands soften. Your expression had become awkward, with now avoiding eyes and pink cheeks. He has this need to hold you but respects your anatomy.

“I can’t tell you how I feel because there are not enough words to describe it,” he calculates his words but he finds himself taking longer to answer. “I could recite you all of Cybertronian poetry and yet that doesn't feel enough for me.”

You keep looking at him and he looks away. Your eyes were too beautiful and it distracts him immensely.

“But if you were to ask me to count each star in the universe I would,” he lets his spark do the talking, finally subsiding the yearning it has been holding for a long time. “If you asked me to bring you a star, I would bring you a constellation.”

“This old rusted body belongs to you but if you ask me for my silence and distance, I won’t retaliate.”

“And if I asked you to stay with me, on Earth, would you do it?”

You know it was a selfish question. You didn’t want to make him choose between his world and you. But you just had to know if there was a small possibility, a small chance that the life you had with him could still be a possibility.

After the accidents in Chicago, you had looked for him, only to find him broken. Sam’s death had affected him greatly but in that grieve of losing loved ones, something sparked.

Three years. You had lived with him for three years, in an isolated cottage. Where he could have all the dandelions he wanted. Where he could care for animals and the two of you would look at the stars and try to count them. Each one of them.

“If that’s what you wish,” Optimus says. “I would stay by your side as long as you would have me.”

“I can’t,” you look away this time. “I won’t ask you to stay with me.”

“You have a duty to complete and Cybertron is your home,” there is more to it. More doubts than you are able to articulate. “When you asked me to go to Cybertron with you, I said no because I don’t think I am worthy to be on your side.”

“Have my actions made you feel this way?”

“You are Optimus Prime … I think anyone would feel unworthy,” you pause, thinking about the earlier events. “But today, Bumblebee and Hot Rod told me that you see me as your Conjunx.”

Optimus opens his intake only to close it. He looks side to side, trying to evade eye contact. One of the few times you can tell he is shy. But him acting in such a way has also made your body betray you. You wonder if he can tell just how nervous you are.

“Does that mean — You do?”

“You weren’t supposed to know,” his voice is delicate with an apologetic tone. As if you had just caught him stealing extra energon from the resource room. “Without noticing, my processor had one day started the Conjunx Ritus and as time passed, we both successfully completed the requirements.”

“And before I knew it, my Spark belonged to you.”

“But we are so different.”

“And yet here we are,” he makes a pause and he hears the rain. He tries to calm down before asking his next question, knowing that this will break his Spark. “Does my affection displease you?”

“No, no, I just–” you stumble with your words. “I don’t know what to say.”

“Is there a possibility that perhaps, in your heart, you reciprocate my sentiments?”

And you stay silent. Mostly because you don’t fully know what is going through your heart and the implications behind it. Can this even be possible? Are your feelings even real? Can he comprehend what your feelings are? Can this … Whatever it is, be real?

“Please end my torment,” his faceplate looks to be in distress, his optics yearning. Longing for something unknown to the both of you. “Your silence makes me have hope and I don’t want to suffer when you destroy my delusions.”

Gently, you walk towards him. You reach out a hand and touch his faceplate. Rubbing your soft skin against his cold metal. You watch his optics close, his engine gets louder just a bit but you hear him. As if your touch had saved him, healed him from whatever his processor agonized him with.

“You are cold,” you say as you put your forehead against his faceplate. “Until you get warm, I’ll stay with you.”

Optimus didn’t need to ask further. You didn’t have to say anything either. He just basks himself into this moment. Not knowing what the future holds but he doesn’t care as long as you are with him. This moment won’t last forever but he wants to think that one day it could be true.

A moment were he believed he could spend eternity counting the raindrops and stars in the sky with you.

A/N: Sorry this took so long. I’ve seen all the Bayverse movies but TLK is a movie that is a bit hard for me to write about because I don’t understand it much lol. But I still hope you like this and that it's not too OOC?

It was fun to write this! So thank you so much for the request! :)

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revelboo · 19 hours ago

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REVEL! I request some of the lost light starscream story 🙏

Absolutely been obsessed with your writing, i legit have been checking every hour to see if you’ve uploaded anything new. I’ve read probably everything you’ve posted except for the bumble bee stories, you’ve made me fall in love with so many characters, the way you write all of them is absolutely amazing. Also this your reminder to hydrate!

Yeah, Sundays aren’t usually good days

Overdone Pt 3

Starscream x Reader

• Slumping into his chair behind his desk, he leans his chin on a fist as you ramble utter nonsense. Claiming you’d come to just falling to your death. Lies. They have to be, but then you’re turning big eyes his way and thanking him for saving your life and his wings flick. When’s the last time someone thanked him for anything? Shaking himself, he growls. Someone has to have put you up to this. “So I’m to believe you just teleported to Cybertron without meaning to, without even knowing how you accomplished it?”

• Staring up at his scowl, you understand why he doubts your story. It sounds crazy even to you, but you honestly don’t know how you ended up here. The only things you’re sure of? He’d saved you when he hadn’t had to. And that makes you sure he’s good deep down despite how intimidating he is, despite his threats to harm you if you’re a spy. Hands clasped together, you study him as his optics shutter and he presses his servos against them in an all too human gesture like he has a headache. “I swear I’m not a spy. I’m baker.”

• “And I can just take your word for it?” Everyone’s out to get him, to take away what he’s worked so hard for. But he can’t figure out the game here. Maybe you’re not a real human? Just something meant to look like one? Comming Rattrap, he vents when you just stare up at him with wide eyes. Why a human? Thundercracker is the one that cares for the little meat bags, not him. Anyone familiar with him would know that. ‘Bring me a scanner,’ he growls at Rattrap, cutting the connection without waiting for a reply.

• Of course, he doesn’t trust you, but you’re certain you can trust him. And short of him giving you a kitchen and baking supplies, you’re not sure how to prove your claim. You’re also not sure what a scanner is or who he was just talking to. What you are aware of? How massive he is. Alien and strange. His face, his body metal, but malleable. Able to give enough to form expressions and his hands had been warm holding you, making you painfully aware of how cold you are right now. “Why did you save me?” You ask almost against your will and his frown deepens.

• “Would have rather I let you make a very small splatter on the surface?” Growling, he turns toward the door when it opens and holds out a hand in demand. Aware of Rattrap gawking at you as he hands over the scanner. And you flinch when he powers it on and seizes you by the leg to drag you closer when you try to back away. Huffing through his vents at your little squeak when you fall on your butt and he pulls you closer. Your expression almost comically indignant when he scans you. Finding you really are just a human. You don’t even have any hidden tech meant to spy on him and he’s almost disappointed. Almost eager to root out a plot or a conspiracy. Tapping the scanner on the desk beside you to make you flinch, he vents. “Go find Wheeljack,” he mutters to Rattrap. Because you’re still a mystery he means to solve.

#transformers x reader #starscream x reader #starscream

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itsrensfairygardenn · 10 hours ago

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dilf!art x tired!reader for everyone who needs it </3

2,2k words

you’ve been seeing each other for a while now, and your friends say that it’s stupid that the two of you still haven’t moved in together — after all, it’s not weird at all. he seems to like you so much, and you like him too, love him even, because he is the best thing you could ever have, you know that for sure. you live in the most inconvenient part of the town, renting a tiny flat, which is not even that close to your university, and even further away from art’s place — he lives out of town, completely alone in his enormous house, except for days when lily stays with him. he never presses you into staying with him, moving your stuff to his place, or even lingering there for longer than you’re comfortable with, but his eyes always speak for himself — he wants you to stay there with him. he wants his home to become yours too.

life for you is routine, because you’ve built it this way; and while it obeys your rules, working like a finely-tuned machine, you can handle it just fine — i mean, there was nothing impossible, right? the schedule is tough, but you’ve already got used to it, still managing to submit your assignments just in time and getting excellent results, even though your part-time job is taking much more of your time and energy than you thought it would — but it feels nice to be appreciated by your professors, to stay one of the best students, even though it feels like you’re on the verge of losing it because of your job. you don’t have much time for living your quiet and slow life anymore, and it was difficult for you, to the point of a permanent exhaustion, of aching pain all over your body even after a proper rest. but life is never easy, is that what people always say to you? you should adjust to this rhythm, because you think that that’s how adult life works.

and you can handle it just fine, till the moment when this algorithm just stops working.

this day, everything went completely wrong since the very beginning — you overslept, simply because you’d forgotten to set your alarm the night before, and the whole process of getting ready and running to the campus brought you immense anxiety; by the time you got to the classroom, you felt a thick lump of nausea in your throat. you were answering questions on autopilot, thoughtlessly writing down words that couldn’t even form adequate sentences, and you could swear that by the end of this class you were on the verge of crying or losing your consciousness, because you felt so stupid and helpless, not being able to try your hardest, to focus and get a grip. you hadn’t had enough time to have a proper breakfast, you had forgotten half of your notes at home… god, you couldn’t even find it in yourself to answer art’s messages — as always, he sent you ‘good morning’, wishing you a nice day, reminding you about your plans for the evening. why was it so hard for you to just answer?

then someone accidentally pushed you with their shoulder in the cafeteria, and you stained your skirt with sprinkles of coffee that fell from your hands right to the floor… you were sure that you heard someone laughing behind your back, while you were frantically pushing through the crowd to make it to the bathroom. first of all, you were frustrated, terribly embarrassed and mad; second of all, you missed art so badly, that you teared up in the bathroom stall, because you still hadn’t answered his messages, and you knew that he would worry about this silence. he always worries, you know it, but he always pretends that he doesn’t, because he doesn’t want to seem overprotective or overly sensitive; right now a concerned expression of his loving eyes is the last thing you want to witness.

now, when your classes are over, and art’s car is finally waiting for you in the parking lot, you want to cry again — because he’s looking at you through the window, giving you the sweetest smile, with his thumb absentmindedly rubbing the leather surface of the steering wheel, because this very hand is waiting for its chance to settle on your thigh, or caress your cheek. art has missed you so much, you know for sure; he’s so excited about having dinner with you tonight, because both of you’ve been so busy recently, that you didn’t have a chance to spend some quality time together. and here you are, without any makeup on, with these ugly coffee stains on your skirt, and the same anxiety and suppressed emotions bubbling underneath every inch of your skin, that were making you sweat through the day. what if you smell bad? what if you snap at art, just because you feel like falling apart in front of him?

“how was your day?” art asks in this soft, soothing tone of his. as you’ve expected, his hand settles on your knee, gently rubbing your skin; you’re afraid that he’ll say something about this damn skirt, but he doesn’t even look down at it.

art smells like his usual cologne — such a faint note of it, because he’s already washed it off in the shower after training his tennis players under the scorching heat of the sun on the tennis court; you want to bury yourself in his chest and inhale the familiar scent of his skin, to nestle your nose in his neck and make him giggle, the way he always does when you’re together — so boyish and sweet, despite the age. god, he doesn’t seem much older than you at all.

but you can’t even speak, biting your lower lip, with that gloomy crease between your eyebrows. art notices almost immediately, and out of the corner of your eye, you can see his smile fading. is he no longer happy with you? what if you’ll upset him with your attitude, ignoring him just because you feel terrible? he just asks you about your day, and the next moment tears starts falling from the corners of your eyes; you can feel it prickling in your nose, and suddenly the morning nausea is back again.

art’s heart sinks into his chest, stopping its steady rhythm and falling down to his stomach, slowly dying from the sight of your reddened nose and cheeks, the faint traces of tears on your beautiful face — god, he only wishes to never see you upset again, to make you the happiest person in the world. he’s noticed everything about your busy schedule, your exhaustion and those dark circles under your tired eyes — this life is slowly pushing you to the limit, and you don’t even want him to help you. because you think that it’s completely fine, that you can handle everything that you’ve weighed down on yourself.

you think that he’ll be upset with you? the truth is, art will never leave you alone with your pain, and much less judge you for it — if anything, art will make your pain his own, too. he’s ready to absorb it, erasing the line between your difficulties and his own, because as far as he’s ready to share his bed with you, he will always share your worries, your anxiety, your bad days and overwhelming feelings.

“bunny, come here,” he whispers into your hair, already pulling you into his arms, shielding your trembling figure from the world, from all these people passing by his car — he kisses your soft hair, your rosy cheeks and lowered eyelids, wiping your tears away with his warm lips. his thumb catches a hot salty drop right in the corner of your eye, brushing it away before it rolls down your reddened skin. “that’s okay, don’t worry… no, don’t apologize, sweetheart. we’ll figure it out, i promise”

he’s rubbing your back with his firm, calloused hand, grounding you, silently promising you safety and comfort you desperately need, the same quietness and slow pace of life you miss so badly. he whispers that he’ll take you home now, that the restaurant can wait, that you can order takeout later. at this moment, you know that his home is your home, and nothing else matters anymore.

once you get there, he runs you a hot bath and ends up kneeling on the tiled floor, running his fingers through your shampooed hair and massaging your scalp with his fingertips — you’ve already calmed down enough to speak to him and tell about your day, detailing every single thing that has happened to you. he mutters his little “you did nothing wrong, sweetheart”, “they’re just a bunch of stupid kids” and “you’re still my genius” in your ear, occasionally smiling at your choice of words; to be honest, you can make him smile without even trying, and when you joke? he’s giggling, of course he is.

afterwards, you put his old shirt from one of those tennis events and his boxers on. he leads you to the large couch in the middle of his light, spacious living room, and you both settle in the mess of pillows and a blanket that he’s brought from the bedroom; you rest your head on his chest, while he’s looking at his phone screen, quietly listing what you can order for dinner — as always, he’s the one who does it, because he knows how difficult it’s for you to decide what kind of food you would like to eat.

“you aren’t listening, are you?” he notices with a slight grin, and his voice requires this attractive hint of hoarseness. he traces wet hair on the top of your head with his lips, lazily drawing invisible patterns, finalising them with a firm kiss — more like an attempt to immerse himself into the scent of your (his) shampoo.

you’re half-listening, with your eyes blissfully closed, but you’re smiling at his question — it seems like food is the least important part of being next to him right now; you put your hands under his shirt, drawing small circles on his toned stomach with your fingertips, and you know that it was calming both of you down.

“i love you, art” you whisper against his chest, sending these words right to his heart — literally and metaphorically.

“i love you too, bunny” he adjusts his position to kiss your cheek — gently and lovingly; it always feels even more intimate than making love, because at these moments he touches your cheeks like priceless gemstones, or the finest silk.

“you know that i can do anything for you, right?” his tone changes, but it’s barely noticeable, because he’s still so soft with you, treading carefully to not scare you away from him. “i know how much you value your studies. just focus on it, and i’ll help you with the rest”

you shift in his arms, only to look up at him, resting your chin on his broad chest — you seem uncertain, as always. art’s already got used to it, because you’ve never liked talking about money — his money, particularly.

“i don’t know, art. it’s embarrassing,” you admit, lowering your voice to a whisper, and you feel his hand on the back of your neck, gently massaging your tight muscles — never able to keep his hands off you. “i don’t have enough money, and i can’t give anything in return. don’t mention love, because it won’t be enough”

“love is always enough, y/n,” he doesn’t give you a chance to belittle yourself, to underestimate the value of your love. you both know that you saved him, that you healed him with your very presence, your shy smiles and and the way your cheeks flushed when his lips first touched yours. “i want you to be here, to do things that you love, to not worry about money”

art knows that money can’t buy happiness, but ever since he met you, he wishes to have a chance to buy this precious piece of pure joy, to have it on the palm of his hand, to give it to you without a second thought — and when he’s ready for such things, does money really matter? do you really have to worry about it, when he only dreams about you putting your clothes in his wardrobe, leaving your makeup products on the sink in the bathroom after getting ready for your morning classes, marking the edge of his favorite mug with your lipstick?

you’re so quiet that it almost feels eerie, as if you’re not with him anymore — but then you finally break this foreign silence.

“we can try,” you whisper, and you both smile at the same time — his boyish grin, again. ”i'll call the landlady tomorrow”

trust me, just by looking at his face, it’s obvious that at this very moment he already starts thinking about rearranging his entire house to make it the perfect place for you — dressing table, secluded corner for your bookshelves, maybe even entire room just for you… well, give him some time to think about it, and he’ll make you the happiest person in the world.

thank you for supporting this idea! i hope that the result isn’t too disappointing :( just needed some emotional support from dilf art calling me a bunny, please don’t judge me for trying 🐇

#challengers #art donaldson #dilf art donaldson #challengers fic #art donaldson x reader

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thanosscross · 2 days ago

Text

My Aein - BangChan x Reader

Summary: y/n l/n was taught from a young age that you always try to be the utmost respectful person, which causes issues in your adult life of never being able to stand up for yourself, so what happens whenever a new found friend, is extremely protective over you?

Warnings: your manager is a dick, your agency wanting you to do things you don’t want to, SMUT 👏

Christopher Chahn Bahng was protective in life, anybody could see that, especially the way he was with his group members, and his family. Nobody could predict how protective he'd become whenever he met Y/n L/n though, it was like you were made for each other.

You were a part of a growing girl group, and as the youngest of the group, you had grown accustomed to doing whatever was asked of you. Your parents raised you to be a respectful, kind, and thoughtful person, so it was only right to do what your elders asked. It'd start to become an issue once you started working for creepier staff, sure there was a handful that were absolute sweethearts, but the rest? Definitely took advantage of the fact you'd do anything for them. You'd always get the more suggestive outfits, lyrics, choreography, and the fans either ate it up, or hated you for it. They'd either love the way you'd put yourself out there, or they labeled you as the group's whore. Rumors constantly flying around about what group or group member you had allegedly slept with, or what scandalous thing you had done that week.

That's when you'd run into BangChan, you'd be at an award show backstage whenever Christopher would overhear you and your manager speaking. "When you start your single, you're going to have a planned wardrobe malfunction with your top, where it'll fall off, just keep your back to the camera, it'll fit your character" He'd explained, his words would strike anxiety through you as you instinctively brought your arms up to cover your still clothed chest "D-Do we have to?..I feel like that's a little too fa-" Your manager cut you off quickly "Are you questioning me? Next question, are you seriously arguing with your boss and an elder right now?" He snapped, you flinched back slightly, starting to stutter and ramble attempting to find the words to defend yourself. "Excuse me. She's got a right to say she doesn't want to" A voice came from behind you, you were too focused on not wanting to come off as rude or disrespectful that you never glanced back while speaking with your manager. "I-It's okay, I-I'll do it, it's okay, J-just don't worry about it" You rambled, your bottom lip starting to tremble as your manager just stormed off in the opposite direction, clearly frustrated with your behavior. As you turned around, your hands shaking slightly with anxiety, Christopher finally got to see how beautiful you looked. Taking in your shaken state, his hands quickly found yours, holding them gently as he leaned down slightly to be eye to eye with you "Hey, you're alright, you don't have to do it" He assured, frowning whenever tears started to fall from your eyes, you felt like a drama queen or crybaby, but you couldn't help it, your parents raised you as if disrespecting your elders was almost as bad as murder.

Christopher wasn't sure what to do, so he followed what his gut was feeling, and pulled you into a tight hug, keeping his hands above your waist, but not high enough to be near your chest. You just melted into his hold, finding comfort in the way it felt like your bodies were made to fit perfectly together. Bangchan felt frustration rise in his chest as he held you closer to him, why weren't the older idols in your group not helping you stand up against people like that? Why would anybody want to make you upset? It was heart shattering to him to see you like this. "Channie!!~" He heard his friends call loudly as they approached, clearly not seeing the smaller shaken frame of yours being held protectively in his arms, despite not even knowing your name yet. "Who is that?" Felix asked tilting his head as he noticed his best friend was basically holding a girl hostage in his arms. "An Idol whose manager is an asshole" He stated, rubbing his hand up and down your back slightly as he noticed your shaky breathing was slowing down back into calm state. "So..You stole her? I'm pretty sure that's illegal, Christopher" ChangBin laughed, chuckling quietly whenever his friend gave him a stern look, silently telling him to shut up.

"Y/n! Come on!" The leader of your group shouted, her tone dripping in annoyance, causing the frustration to build back in Christopher's chest. You slowly leaned away from Christopher's hug, you locked eyes with him for a moment "Thank you..Channie" You giggled, referring to the nickname you heard his friend shout whenever he walked up. "Anytime, Y/n" He chuckled, happy to see a smile on your face, finally.

You wouldn't fully fall in love with Christopher until during your performance, whenever one of your back-up dancers slipped past you, cutting the small piece of fabric that tied around your neck to keep your shirt on. Noticing what the hell was happening, Christopher quickly pushed past the staff that was standing at the walkway for the stage, hidden by the curtains and props. Before anything could be shown to the cameras and audience, BangChan would have a tight hold on you, keeping your chest flush against his. Before you could process anything, Christopher would be glaring the cameraman down as he moved around to try and get a clear shot of your wardrobe malfunction, his plan being destroyed by the older idol using his jacket he had on for their performance after you, to cover your body completely.

As soon as you'd shake off the initial shock, you'd be back in 'performance mode' holding the cut fabric together to give a temporary fix as you tried your best to match the choreography. You'd continue to fall behind and stumble, causing your fellow group mates to laugh and giggle at your actions, only giving you waves of embarrassment. As Christopher stood backstage again, he was grateful of the loud music covering his shouts, he could feel his blood practically boiling as your manager and staff stood a few feet ahead with their backs to him. Seeing that they weren't going to listen anytime soon, Bangchan stormed off, deciding to take a different approach to the situation, his mind (or heart..) not allowing him to just forget about it. Stepping back up to the tape indicating what was front stage and backstage, Christopher noticed you wiping away tears from your cheek as you tried to hit the final mark as the song ended, only looking extremely awkward with your arm reached back behind you.

You would leave stage after that, using your shirt malfunction as an excuse to run off away from anybody who saw your 'performance'. As soon as you'd get the door closed to your dressing room, you'd be quick to try and find your bag of spare clothes. Anxiety would start to rise as your usual f/c bookbag was missing from its spot on the couch, leaving you with no extra shirt for now. The panic would be short lived though, as Christopher knocked on the door gently "Y/n?..It's um..It's Christopher" He called gently, his heart shattering all over again whenever he was greeted with your upset state as you opened the dressing room door. "I-I don't..have a shirt.." You whispered, your voice shaking and cracking as you spoke, you were hoping he wasn't like your managers and would just come in anyways. Instead, Christopher hummed softly as if he was going through his mind for ideas before slipping off his jacket quickly. Before you could speak, he was pulling off his T-shirt and slipping his jacket back on, he stepped forward a bit, eyes squeezed shut as he handed you the t-shirt from the crack in the door. "I-I can't" You protested, not wanting to take the man's shirt off of his back. Christopher huffed loudly in reply "I'm older than you. Take it" He demanded, his tone coming off more demanding, smiling slightly to himself as he saw your arm disappear behind the door with his t-shirt.

Whenever the door would fully open, Christopher would open his arms slightly for a hug "If it's worth anything, I thought you did good" He whispered as you hugged him tightly, not caring that you had just met the man a few hours ago, he was so kind, and his hugs were the most calming thing you had ever experienced. What could you say? You were a hopeless romantic, and this man was hitting every box for your fairytale dream guy. "Don't lie to me, Channie" You huffed, smiling to yourself at the nickname, it was silly, but cute, especially for someone like Christopher. He couldn't hold back his chuckle as he rubbed your back gently "I'm not lying, I think with the situation you were in, you did great" He protested, pulling away slightly to look you in the eyes "I don't like to lie to my friends, especially not the maknaes" He stated, brushing your hair back behind your hair as you locked eyes "I'm not that young, I'm twenty-two" You defended, pouting slightly whenever Bangchan gasped in shock before laughing slightly "You are young! Younger than Jeongin!" He laughed, mocking your pout playfully once he was finished with his laughing session over your age. "Bangchan to the stage, Christopher to the stage" He heard through his earpiece, causing him to mentally groan, of course he had to leave whenever you two were having fun. "Listen, how about you come watch our performance, maybe it'll cheer you up, rather than sitting in here with your group" He offered softly, gently running his hand down your arm until he made it to your wrist, holding it gently as he waited for a reply. "I guess you're right..." You whispered, not wanting to disrespect him in anyway.

You sat in your reserved seat, feeling as if you were to move spots, you'd upset a lot of people, so you stayed with your group members, watching as the boys made their way out on stage. As soon as Bangchan got to his spot, his eyes would lock with yours, giving you a slight smile before motioning you to move to their table. You shook your head slightly, giving him a soft smile, hoping he'd understand that you were fine. As the music started though, a staff from his group made their way over to you "Ms. l/n? Christopher wants me to tell you that he's technically your elder, and he says sit at their table" The young woman stated, maybe a few years younger than you, tilting your head slightly for a moment before finally giving in. As you moved to sit in Christopher's reserved seat, you noticed the music changing over into a different one of their songs. Christopher smiled brightly and innocently as he noticed you sitting in his spot now, waving at you excitedly before moving to his mark for the choreography. The boys would follow the leader, all of them smiling at you and waving excitedly before moving to their marks, leaving you watching with a bright blush apparent on your face.

By the time the award show was over, you'd be asleep curled up in Stray Kids' dressing room, covered by almost every single one of the boys' coats. Bangchan would drag you into the room once everybody was done changing, not liking the way your staff and group members treated you. He wanted you to see and understand that's not how people should treat others, it doesn't matter if their older than you or not, they shouldn't take advantage of your willingness to help others. Now they were packing up the rest of their things, while you slept peacefully, unnoticed by all eight members of the group, until Jeongin would try and get your attention for Christopher. Noticing you were asleep, he'd jump back quickly, almost like he'd be scolded if he woke you, which in all honesty, he probably would've been. "Chan-Hyung" He called out quietly, trying to get his eldest hyung's attention as he finished packing his phone chargers. Turning around Bangchan raised his eyebrows, smiling as he noticed you were asleep in his t-shirt, using his jacket as a blanket, the others just piled on top. "I'll wake her up, you boys just finish up, I'm sure you're all ready to go home" He smiled softly, motioning for Jeongin to finish his packing as he swapped him places, Bangchan now standing a few feet away. As the others made their way to the car that sat outside waiting for them, Bangchan rested a hand gently on your shoulder "Y/n..Jagi...You have to wake up" He called softly, giggling whenever you huffed, pulling his jacket over your face, shaking his head he started to brush your messy hair out of your face. "Come on..I'd hate to leave you here alone" He whispered, smiling to himself whenever your eye peeked open to look at him between his jacket and the sofa you were laying on.

It'd take almost five more minutes to get you on your feet and moving, he wouldn't let you go though, wrapping his coat around you as he led you outside to the car, quite literally just stealing you for the night, even if he wished it was forever. His wish would end up coming true after a short time, you'd end up falling head over heels in love with him after that award show, which would quickly blossom into a relationship between the two of you. Bangchan would be your savior in your eyes, always rescuing you right when you need it, and never asking for much in return, other than your love. It wouldn't take long for the rest of your groups to figure out that you two were together, especially with how often Christopher would steal you in the middle of the night to cuddle with him. It became a habit, neither of you being able to fall asleep without the other, so with your demanding schedules, you spent a lot of your time together just napping with each other.

You'd be lying if you said BangChan's constant want for you learning how to stand up for yourself wasn't extreme pressure on you. You'd try your best, but sometimes people just wouldn't get the hint, and you'd need BangChan's help in order to keep a stern, No. Your staff was starting to become irritated with Christopher and the fact you were becoming less willing to just do whatever, so they'd purposely wait to make plans with you until he wasn't around.

Which is how you ended up standing anxiously in front of your manager, who was eyeing you down as an intimidation tactic. You nervously twisted your rings as you shifted your weight from foot to foot. "I-I don't know, I don't think people will respond well to tha-" You started to explain your reasoning, whenever he'd cut you off in a snippy tone "Y/n. Seriously, I'm getting really tired of this damn act you've been putting on. If I tell you that you're going to do this photoshoot, then you're going to do it" He snapped, his tone caused you to step back, your heart hammering in your chest as you tried to remember what Christopher had told you. "I'm sorry I just don't think it's a good-" Your manager cut you off again, this time his body language showing he was becoming very pissed off. "Y/n! Damnit you're doing it!" He shouted stepping closer to you, feeling like you were going to throw up you just nodded in defeat "O-Okay" You whispered before rushing off down the hallway of your agency's building, pressing yourself against the wall as you tried to calm yourself down. Your manager swore up and down that a scandalous photoshoot involving you using ropes as props would be just what you needed to boost your stats, you knew deep down though, it was the company trying to ruin the last bit of reputation you had left. Between your manager, and the spiraling thoughts and reminders of how angry Christopher got towards people because of you not standing your ground, you felt like you were going to pass out.

You slid down the wall until you were resting your forehead against your knees, your hands tangled in your hair as you hyperventilated and sobbed. Christopher was never once angry or even annoyed with you, but you despised the look you'd get from him whenever you'd explain you were stuck. The mixture of possessiveness, and pity always made you feel like a burden to him for some reason, you felt like if you were to just 'get over it' and either stand your ground or just do whatever is asked of you, he wouldn't even need to feel pity for you or get upset.

Whenever you never answered your phone for your usual lunch break call, Christopher had gotten extremely worried, even making the other seven members call your cell phone as well, only for no reply. Feeling something off in his chest, he rushed over to where he knew you'd be, a meeting with your asshole boss and manipulative group members. He still couldn't wrap his mind around why anybody would treat someone younger than them like how your group members treat you. As he entered the building, he took in your group and managers sitting in the conference room, but you and your manager was nowhere to be found inside of the glass room. "You! if you're so adamant about changing y/n why not fucking change her flaws instead of making her more difficult to deal with!" He heard a voice shout harshly from behind "Excuse me?" Christopher asked turning around to face your manager, his face showing nothing but utter disgust for the man standing a few feet away. Your manager just rolled his eyes "You heard me. Either quit your shit, or- even better!- just get her to quit the industry entirely" He spat, smirking as he watched Christopher's fist clench tightly at his sides, Bangchan was trying his best to not just swing on the guy. Who the hell did he think he was? At least you had a name for yourself, this guy was a nobody. Taking a few deep breaths, Christopher had made up his mind, he was going to kick this guy's ass, assault charge or not.

Right as Christopher took a step forward, his thoughts were halted by the short echo of a shaken cough. He would've brushed it off if he hadn't recognized the sound, even if it was barely audible, he had heard it so many times before, the sound of you having a panic attack. "Fuck off" He spat before turning around to figure out where exactly you were, his heart pounding in his chest as his quick walk turned into a jog before a full-blown run down the hallways trying to figure out where your cries were coming from. Whenever he'd finally spot you, he'd kneel down close, not wanting to risk making anything worse for you by immediately pulling you into a hug. His hands twitched as he held back his instinct to just hold you while you cried, but he needed to make sure you were okay first. "Jagiya...oh aein" He whispered, choosing to just rest a hand on your back for now, his heart shattered at your shaken terrified state, swearing in his mind that he'd make whoever responsible extremely sorry. You'd let yourself fall against BangChan's side, feeling some of your anxiety start to fade as he wrapped his arms around you. "Honey..you're safe, it's okay" He whispered, pressing a kiss to the top of your head as he held you tighter, you just attempted to hide in his hold, trying to make yourself appear as small as possible. You tried your best to calm down, but anytime you'd make eye contact with your boyfriend, you'd start crying again. "My Aein..Please speak to me" He whispered, cupping your cheeks as you calmed your breathing for what felt like the 100th time in row "I-I tried to say no a-and stick with it, I p-promise, oppa, b-but he j-just kept g-getting upset, I'm s-so sorry I couldn't-" You were cut off by your body forcing out another cry, Christopher frowned before bringing you closer into a hug, resting a hand on the back of your head so he could run his fingers through your hair. "Oh my- Jagiya, are you sorry because of me? Baby please don't be" He whispered, his voice cracking as he tried to hold back his own tears.

"Y-You've been trying so h-hard to help me s-stand up for myself, a-and I can't ever do i-it" You sobbed, clenching his shirt fabric in your fists "My Aein, I should be sorry, I never wanted you to feel pressured to, I'll always be here to be your 'bad guy', baby" He whispered, trying his best to keep his tears from falling onto you. Christopher never meant to make you feel so much pressure on standing up for yourself, he never wanted you to feel like you needed to put yourself in panic just to make him proud. After a few moments, and seeing your manager storm past, BangChan decided it was best to just to just take you home. Knowing the last place you'd want to be is your dorm room, he'd take you to his apartment style dorm he had shared with Jeongin.

Once you were sat down in your boyfriend's bedroom, next to him on the bed, he pulled you in to yet another hug "What happened today?" He whispered, running his hands up and down your back as you sighed, deciding to flop yourself on top of him before telling him about fight you had with your manager. "oof- Okay, What's that for, princess?" He chuckled, raising his eyebrows as you squeezed your arms around him tightly "Promise you'll stay in this bed no matter what?" You asked, knowing he was going to be extremely pissed off whenever you explained "..I can't make a promise that I can't keep" He stated after a moment, feeling his mind start to grow cloudy with anxiety and anger, what the hell had happened to make you this cautious about him leaving? "They want me to do a photoshoot.." You mumbled, now starting to rethink telling him anything, you knew this situation would definitely be stepping over the line. "Okay..You're scaring me" He stated, sitting up quickly as he held onto you, keeping you straddled on his lap as he tried to read your facial expressions, hoping that might give him some idea. "Their idea..was for me to be scandalous, and wear something similar to..lingerie..with ropes.." You mumbled, BangChan only heard part of your explanation, tuning out everything after lingerie and ropes, he was going to fucking kill this man and anybody else who had the stupid ass idea. You whimpered a bit in discomfort feeling your boyfriend's hands gripping your hips tightly as he glared past you at the wall, desperately trying to calm himself down before he ended up in jail for murder. No wonder you were so panicked whenever he found you. "C-Chris" You whispered, resting your hands on his as his eyes flicked over to meet yours. Christopher gasped a bit, immediately taking his hands off of your hips, carefully moving the waistband of your jeans to check if you were injured in any way. "I'm so sorry, my love, did I hurt you, aein?" He asked quickly, you just smiled a bit cupping his cheeks, caressing his cheekbones with the pads of your thumbs. "No oppa, I'm okay..Are you..okay?" You whispered cautiously, shocked at how much control he was showing by not storming out to find your manager. BangChan laughed softly shaking his head "I'm going to fucking kill somebody..but.." He whispered, trying his best to keep his mind from planning exactly how intense he was going to beat your manager. "Christopher.." You whispered, trying your best to keep his attention on you and distracted, BangChan really did appreciate you and all you did for him, but this was too far. It was one thing to force you to do an over-demanding job, it was another to try and force you to do something like that, it should've been illegal to force someone into a photo shoot like that. He was silent for a few moments before standing up, taking your hand in his gently before leading you towards his youngest member's bedroom. "Jeongin! Best friend in the world" He called sweetly through the door, smiling the best he could whenever his friend opened the door. "Hey, so can you hangout with Y/n, and make sure she doesn't leave the house to follow?" He asked, not explaining anything else before giving you a gentle push into the bedroom, rushing to grab his shoes and leave the apartment.

He had a plan, kick your manager's ass, come back home to you, his girl. As he made it to your agency building, he realized he had been so focused on his thoughts he never even noticed he had jogged the entire way there, well, might as well get some exercise in too. He was about to enter the building until he stopped, there were cameras inside, and how could he possibly knock out your manager's teeth if there were hundreds of employees inside defending him? Standing off to the side in the parking lot, he waited, watching until your manager made his way out to his car "Hey! Why don't we finish that conversation now that I know what kind of a scumbag you are" Christopher spat, making his way closer to your boss "Excuse me? The only reason you or that whore should be talking to me, is either to hand in her resignation or to agree to the gig" You manager argued, turning around to face your boyfriend, just in time for BangChan's fist to connect with his mouth. "Watch your damn mouth" He growled, leaning back quickly to dodge your manager's punch before swinging again, wincing as his knuckles split from the force of connecting with your manager's jaw. "This is assault!" He called out, BangChan just rolled his eyes "So is trying to force her to pose half naked for you" He growled, kneeling down to grab your manager's tie tightly "Y/n isn't your fucking idol anymore, so keep her name out of your fucking mouth, don't even think about her, or I swear to God, I'll fucking find you, and it'll be so much fucking worse" He snapped, delivering one more swift, hard, punch to the cheekbone before tossing him to the concrete by his tie.

The walk back home, BangChan couldn't keep his mind straight, his blood was boiling and his mind just kept going back to the idea of you dressed like that for somebody else. You were his, His girl, His princess, his best friend, his Aein, you were his, and anybody who tried to change that, or hurt his girlfriend, would have the same fate as your manager.

As he entered the apartment, he slammed the front door, huffing loudly as he kicked his shoes off making his way to his bathroom. As he entered his room, he stopped, noticing the bathroom door already open, and the shower running "Oppa?..Is that you?.." You called out from the shower, your eyes closed tightly as you rinsed the conditioner out of your hair. BangChan wouldn't answer, just making his way into the bathroom, and leaning against the counter, silently waiting for you to be done. Feeling his pissed off presence, you quickly finished up before turning off the water, grabbing your towel to wrap around you, and stepping out of the shower. "Ah! Christopher! You can't do that you scared me!" You shouted, almost losing your balance as you jumped, coming face to face with your boyfriend. Taking in his state, you felt slightly nervous, he had never looked so pissed off, his chest was rising and falling as he panted, and his fists were clenched at his sides, but you could still see the faint bits of blood on his red knuckles. "What the hell happened? Chris why aren't you talking to me" You asked quickly, taking his fist into your hands gently as you tried to examine the wound, anxiety was starting to build as he was still silent. BangChan was stuck in his mind, the thought of anybody ever seeing you like this was really pissing him off, especially with the voice in his head repeating that you were his. It confused Christopher, he had never been this possessive over anybody in his life, but here he was, about to lose his shit over just a thought of someone else seeing you like this. Before he could even react to what his body was doing, he grabbed you by the waist tightly, pulling you close to him as he planted his lips against yours roughly. Gasping in shock against his lips, you tried your best to catch your towel, only for it to slip past your fingers, landing on your boyfriend's hands that were still planted on your hips. "J-Jagiya" You whimpered as his lips moved from yours down to your neck, leaving rough kisses and nips against your skin, Christopher smirked against your skin, pulling your hips closer to press against his, letting you feel just how frustrated he was. "You're my girl, mine." He grunted placing his hands on the back of your thighs so he could lift you up, as you wrapped your legs around his waist. "I know, silly, I'm pretty sure everybody does" You giggled, not fully catching on to what was causing the sudden rush of emotions of your boyfriend.

Christopher was losing himself in his anger, roughly pulling the bathroom drawer out of the counter, onto the floor in order to grab a condom. He’d almost tear the condom itself trying to rip it open, feeling his blood starting boil again until you gently took the packaging from him. You weren’t exactly sure why he was so angry and turned on all of a sudden, but you knew he needed something to help calm him down. Calmly tearing the packaging open and slipping the condom over his hard on, keeping eye contact with him as he let out a shuddered breath, trying not to thrust into your hand. Christopher grunted, grabbing your thighs and spreading them open on the counter as he lined his cock up with your entrance “You’re my woman. This my mine.” He grunted, not really speaking to you, more of just stating a fact as he pushed his cock inside of you. You whimpered loudly as you dug your nails into his back, moaning softly whenever he bottomed out inside of you. “F-fuck, Christopher” you moaned, wrapping your legs around him, desperate to be as close as possible to him. “What, baby? Huh?” He panted, starting to thrust his hips quickly, his cock sliding out of you before slamming back in, almost hitting your cervix as he bottomed out each time. As you tried to let your head fall back, BangChan was quick to grab your jaw, not to rough, even in his beyond pissed off state he was absolutely sure not to hurt you or cause you any unintended pain. “I asked a question, princess.” He grunted, pushing his cock completely inside of you before making eye contact. “W-what?” You whimpered, not being able to remember his question, Christopher only smirked, leaning close enough to ghost his lips over yours. “Who’s the only one you can fuck you like this? Huh?” He grunted, starting to move his hips again, this time faster and even rougher. “You! Only you, Christopher Chahn Bahng!” whimpered loudly, you swore you could feel him all the way inside of your stomach every time he slammed into your pussy. BangChan was lost in his own world, not really aware of anything other than pleasure, both yours and his. His cock kept twitching inside of you anytime you squeezed him, he’d start to grow frustrated by not being able to completely go inside of you, to the point he’d lift you up into his arm, causing his cock to go even deeper somehow. You both moaned in chorus of each other, as Christopher made his way to his bed, you desperately tried to hold onto his shoulders, feeling like his cock was already poking your cervix. “I’m the only one who sees you dressed all pretty, tied up. All for me.” He growled as he dropped you onto the bed, continuing his thrust inside of you as you moaned loudly arching your back. His words made you realize what this was partially about, Christopher didn’t like the idea of you wearing something that sexy for another man. “Channie if you wanted me tied up, you could’ve just said so” you teased, pressing your lips against his jawline causing him to moan softly against your touch this time. BangChan felt like he was in a dream, getting to fuck one of the hottest women in the world and her saying he could tie her up whenever, it felt too good to be true.

“Don’t threaten me with a good time, princess” he grunted, bottoming out inside of you before starting to grind his hips. You moaned loudly, your legs starting to twitch while you trailed your nails down his back “f-fuck! Right there! Please B-BangChan! Christopher- fuck!” You begged arching your back as he smirked, pulling almost completely out of you “n-no! B-baby please” you whimpered, sitting up to grab ahold of his shoulders, desperate to get any type of friction. “I know, I will, how could I not?” He whispered in your ear, his voice a lot deeper than it usually was as he grabbed your wrists, pinning them above your head. The position was new and exposing, but Christopher’s gaze made you feel confident, like you were his favorite meal and he had been starved for days. “Look at that smirk, you know you’re fucking hot don’t you, princess?” He panted, causing you to blush brightly, unaware he had even noticed the small twitch of the corner of your mouth. Christopher slammed his cock back inside of you, adding a twist to his thrust where he’d grind his hips after every thrust, watching in amusement as you’d moan and squeal every time. “Fuck- can’t stop thinking about how fucking hot you’d be- spread open just for me, pretty silk ties keeping your hands up. I wouldn’t want my princess getting hurt” Christopher grunted, chasing after his own orgasm as his mind kept giving him different images of different ways he’d fuck you with your hands tied behind your back. “Shut up or you’re going to make me cum” you whined loudly, embarrassed you were getting close just by his words and voice, it seemed to fuel Christopher’s ego though. “Aww, I want you to cum though.” he smirked, knowing well enough you were close to cumming just by the way you’d squeeze around his cock anytime he spoke. “C-Chris!” You whimpered loudly, squeezing the hand that held your wrists the best you could. Christopher just smirked, holding your hips as he quickened his pace, adjusting himself to reach deeper inside of you if possible. “You can do it, princess, just keep squeezing around me, fuck- just like that princess, just let me do the work, baby” he grunted as you threw your head back, moaning his name as you felt yourself on the verge of cumming all over his cock and the condom he wore. As Christopher grinded his hips one last time, he smirked and groaned softly as he felt you cum around him “fuuck, just like that princess” he panted, slowing his trusts as he placed a hand on your stomach keeping your hips flat on the bed. You whimpered loudly, running your nails down his back as you felt him cum inside of the condom he wore, leaving you both panting heavily, inches from each other’s faces. Whenever Christopher pulled out, you whimpered softly, only to be silenced by his lips pressing against yours gently. As your lips moved together in sync, you started to get lost in your sex-dazed mind. You felt deep down in your heart, Christopher Chahn Bahng was your soulmate, the one, he was the man you wanted to spend the rest of your life with.

“My Aein?..are you okay? You still here?” Christopher’s voice pulled you out of your thoughts, his dopey smile coming into your view as you looked towards him. You swore his smile was contagious as you gave him a soft smile back, giggling softly whenever he’d pull you into a tight hug “there you are! I thought I lost you in that pretty head in yours” he smiled brightly, pressing multiple kisses all over your face as he rolled over towards the edge of the bed. “I’m gonna fall!” You squealed, holding onto him as tightly as you could, really not wanting to fall on the hardwood flooring that was a few feet beneath you. “I won’t let you fall, Jagiya. ever.” He whispered to you as he stood up, lifting you up from your spot effortlessly as he walked to the bathroom that connected to his bedroom.

“Christopher?…” you whispered after a moment, glancing at his knuckles as he turned the shower on “hmm?” He hummed in reply, turning around to grab two towels out of the cabinet for you both as he listened “where’d you go?..when you left earlier” you asked gently, your parents had always raised you not to question any of your elders, no matter the age ‘they always know more than you, that’s why they’re older’ your mom would constantly tell you. You couldn’t help it, you wanted- no needed to know, what if he gets himself into trouble? “I spoke to your manager, I let him know you’re not coming back to work for them, you’ve got a different agency” he spoke calmly, walking over to take your hand in his, pulling you from your spot on the bathroom counter. As you stepped into the shower, Christopher not far behind as you turned around to steal another glance at his knuckles, trying to think of the most respectful way to call him out for lying to you. “I-I’m not trying to disrespect o-or question you but I know you’re lying. If you only spoke to him then why are your hands busted?” You asked, lifting up his hand as gently as you could, not wanting to cause him any pain, Christopher sighed, squeezing your hand gently before pulling you into a hug, making sure to keep you under the shower’s water stream to keep you from getting cold. “I got a little..angry..” he admitted nervously, pulling away to glance at you as he heard your soft short giggle “a little? Honey a little is raising your voice, I think you got a little more than angry” you laughed softly, cupping his cheeks as you sighed “I just don’t want you to get into any trouble, Jagiya” you whispered, frowning softly, your expression made Christopher feel like his heart was breaking and swelling at the same time. He felt warm inside knowing that you cared about him that much to the point you were worried about trouble, but it also broke his heart seeing you that worried about him. “I won’t be, my love, whatever I get myself into, I always get myself out” he whispered, pressing his lips to your forehead.

“So wait..what’s the agency that wants me?” You questioned as you stepped out of the shower, Chris not far behind as he rinsed the conditioner from his hair “if you want, I spoke to my manager and JYP, and he’d be willing to sign you” he explained as he wrapped the towel around his waist “seriously? I would love that” you smiled in excitement, wrapping your arms around him tightly as he smiled “of course, my Aein, anything my princess wants, she shall get” he teased playfully, laughing as you smacked his bicep gently before walking towards into the bedroom to steal some of his clothes for the night.

—

I wasn’t sure how to end this, but I’m thinking of making a part two of reader joining a new agency and maybe a reader + BangChan album/concert collab? Let me know what you think! I love you lovelies, excited to hear from you!!!

—

Stray Kids Taglist!!

@ag02212023

@onyxmango

@bbokarismeow

@yaorzu-blog

(As always, just let me know lovelies if you’d like to be added to any of my tag lists! 🫶)

#stray kids x y/n #stray kids x reader #bangchan x reader #Christopher Chahn Bahng x reader #stray kids bang chan #stray kids bangchan x reader #bangchan x you #bangchan x y/n #bangchan x female reader #bang chan

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smallestapplin · 3 days ago

Text

It won’t come off

Warnings : first contact au, major character death (reader dies), Bee and reader are close despite the language barrier, could be read as platonic or romantic. Italicized dialogue means only one understand.

This was commissioned by : @bellafragolina

Word count : 1,596

You were just so small compared to him, to see someone so tiny and squishy he couldn’t believe his optics! You looked up at the towering mech in a mix of awe and fear, you didn't even come up to his knees, he's so massive to you. You speak yet he can’t understand you, he can see your intake moving but it's a bunch of cute mutters and squeaks to his audials, but that’s okay!

“Don’t worry little buddy I got you. Oh primus, this is great! I get to show you around, I’m sure A-a-tron and Steve will love ya!”

He’s gentle with you despite his excitement, picking you up with care and even taking you small little space craft with him. You don’t understand anything he says, it sounds like whirls beeps and clanking to you, but that should be fine, right? It’s clear he’s a sentient robot of sorts, you wish you could communicate and ask.

But with how damaged your space craft is, you don’t think that would be possible.

You two swiftly fall into a routine, he works and you scavenge around for any metals you can use to repair your ship, though you’re glad you still had food and supplies on board. You don’t get a lot of time to do so, however, this mech loves talking to you even if you can’t understand him, you can hear his tone.

It’s cute how he lights up when you answer, it gets him rambling that much more. Being down here with no light, unable to tell how long you’ve been here, makes it hard to keep track of how long you’ve been missing, surely communications back home would try to find you, right? Looking back at the yellow bot you smile, maybe being stuck here isn’t so bad, though you’re not sure how much food and water you have left or how long it’ll last you.

Though over the course of your stay you’ve picked up on a few words, one of which at least part of his name, the look of joy that crosses his face and the whirling metal sound which you could only think was a squeal, lets you know he’s overjoyed to hear you call him ‘Bee.’ Though he has a much harder time with your language, you can hear him call you ‘little buddy’ all the time, it’s adorable in your eyes, it worries you a little how long he must’ve been here alone.

You heard it first, the sound of something falling? Maybe it’s because everything on this planet is so much louder, but you hid in the hole in Bee’s chest plate not wanting to take chances. You hear Bee coo at you, placing a hand over where you hid, thinking you’re just so cute. Only moments later do you hear talking, and Bee excitedly rambling as your name pops up a few times.

You wish you could understand them better.

“Little buddy? Orion, please, he’s insane.”

“Dee, be nice, he can help us find a way out!”

“Oh yeah, sorry little buddy is just shy! I mean I don't blame them for how small they are, but they are so cute! Best company ever. Now that you two are here we can have massive sleepovers, dude it’ll be great-“

Even from Bee’s chest you can hear the annoyance of one of them. Being able to hear things but not see them is horrifying as you can recognize the panic in their voices, the sadness, the anger, feel when Bee is running and freaking out. Just what is happening out there? You almost didn’t want to leave the safety of Bee’s chest plate, it was safer here, and he’d protect you!

B127 cringes, looking like a guilt turbofox as Alpha Trion and now the others stare at him, yeah having a cog would be so cool! But where would his little buddy stay? you’re too close to where his cog would go, too close to-

“H-hey, you can’t just-“

“An organic?” From the open chest plate Alpha Trion holds you up, such a small little thing, fleshy and squishy.

You shake under the new bots' glazes, all of them staring you down, some in awe, some in curiosity, some in bewilderment, but the large purple one is not easy to read like they are, or even like Bee is. The yellow bot reaches for you as you shakily call his name, your voice as small as you are, and quaking in fear at this newcomer.

“They are my friend, you can’t just take them!” Even as nervous as he is, he refuses to let you get taken from him, he can protect you just fine.

Alpha Trion glances between you and the newly fogged yellow bot, before carefully handing you back to him. You cling to Bee’s zero, just as he clings to you, holding you close to his helm and trying to mutter soothing things to you.

“I see you are fond of them, but let it be known this entire world can hurt them or worse, they are too soft to handle this place on their own. And with your next journey ahead, I fear what may happen to them.”

Though the older cybertronian warns him, Bee holds you closer.

“I can protect them! I have up to this point, even before all this, they are my little friend, we spent so much time in the mines together, they even learned how to say a nickname for me!”

Their usual silly cybertronian was determined, optics narrowed filled with promise that nothing could get between him and you. Though Alpha Trion was not convinced, merely giving a solemn nod before the first blaster set off. Back into Bee’s spark chamber you went, and they went running once more, trying to figure out their new T-cogs. You groan at the whiplash from going to sit in Bee’s spark chamber, to a driver’s seat, back to the spark chamber, and constantly flipping between a soft blue and the chaos happening outside.

When everything finally goes still you wish it made you calm down, but it only made you worry more, Bee was never quiet, there was always sound around you, his humming, his chatter, the sound of his work around you, nothing was ever still like this. Yet you stay put, Bee is the only one you trust, he’d keep you guarded.

When the sound returns you breathe a sigh of relief, even if it sounded angry, at least Bee was talking.. all this adventuring has made you tired and hungry, you can’t wait to go back to the mines and back to your ship. You nuzzle against the blue pulsing thing in his chest plate with you, briefly noting how Bee’s voice shakes as you do so.

He speaks to you, yet you can only understand him saying ‘not’, maybe if you wait a little more you two can get things settled. Bee tried but taking on so many bots at once in such chaos, and trying to help Orion and Elita out was overwhelming, but he’d do it, he can’t let anyone down when they’ve done so much for him.

It was a slip up, he didn’t get the blast coming but it didn’t go too deep in his plating, he can still fight!…what is all this red stuff leaking from his chest plate? It’s no oil he’s ever seen before. His spark sank, swiftly taking cover from all the fire to rip his spark chamber open and pull you out.

You’re weak.

It hurts to move.

Your pained whimper makes his eyes leak, you can hear him frantically muttering to you, comming someone like Orin for help, but you can’t take it, he sounds so upset.

You place a hand to his face plate, softly speaking to him trying to settle his nerves, but it's just making him cry that much harder. You’re certain he’s apologizing, for what you aren’t sure, but you’re just happy to have met him and seen life beyond your stars.

“It’s okay…I’m here. Bee, please don’t…don’t feel bad.” You know he can’t understand your words, your languages apart, but the love for him united you both.

Your eyes feel heavy, but he needs you, you know he does, he’s your friend, you can’t leave him. Orion appears in view, saying something to Bee but the yellow bot lets out a wail, not wanting to let you go, you’re hurt, you need him!

You’re human.

You’re soft, just like Alpha Trion said.

This world was against you, such small thinsg to them would be the end of you.

If only Bee had taken it to spark to realize just how fragile his squishy friend was, he was sure you’d never get hurt.

Some friend, he is, right, little buddy?

Yet your body is limp, you aren’t answering his ever growing yells of your little name, you can’t leave him, you can’t…

Orion places a servo on Bee’s shoulder, letting his friend grieve such a heavy loss. You would want him to live, to fight on, protect anyone from your fate. But the larger bot stays quiet, keeping his thoughts to himself as Bee refuses to let your limp body go.

And he’d have to until you can have a proper going away after they stop this madness.

But he can’t let you go, even placing your body in his spark chamber again and weeps. You’re limp, you’re losing your warmth.

And this red stuff won’t come off.

#angst #major character death #transformers #transformers x reader #transformers one #tf one bumblebee #tf one b 127 #tf one x reader #reader dies

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veltana · 3 days ago

Text

Cate's Creation Celebration

Hello and welcome to my first ever writing event! 🫣😅😨😵

My birthday happens to fall the day before Walpurgis Night. Where I'm from we celebrate with friends, watching bonfires, listening to choirs and getting absolutely shitfaced. So we're going to combine that with the myth and folklore of Walpurgis Night and have ourselves a creation celebration! Are you going to confess to your best friend by the flames of the fire, or are you going to get snared by a dark warlock?

There are two parts of this! A writing event and submitting a writing request. For both you need to be +18 to participate. There needs to be some indication of your age in the bio of your blog.

If you want to submit a writing request, you can find the form here. Your askbox needs to be open to be able to participate. Read the rules in the form before submitting.

If you want to participate in the writing event please see the details below!

General details

The writing event is open to the end of May (but I'll accept late entries)

All entries will be put into an event masterlist.

Rules

I read for Sebastian Stan, Chris Evans and sometimes Henry Cavill characters. I'm open to reading other fandoms but no RPF.

Only reader-insert fics. Please use inclusive language and tag accordingly so everyone can have fun!

You don't have to claim a prompt but please keep to the theme of the event.

10k maximum word limit. Please put your fic under a cut after a reasonable amount of words!

Your fic can be part of a series but must be able to be read as a standalone piece.

No fucking AI fics.

No incest, grooming, underage, watersports/scat, vomit, necrophilia, cannibalism, bestiality or similar types of yucky stuff.

Otherwise works can be any genre (fluff, smut, angst ect), just make sure to include appropriate warnings. I do reserve the right to not read and/or reblog something that makes me uncomfortable. I'm not much for really dark fics or whump.

If you only post to AO3 then please send me a link or something so I don't miss it!

Tag @veltana when you post your fic and include #catescreationcelebration in the tags!

Here are some prompts to get the wheels turning!

Dialogue (you're free to change tense):

"Did you put a spell on me!?"

"If magic made wishes come true, what would you wish for?"

"Are you alone out here?"

"You have no idea what forces you're playing with."

"I can't pretend anymore."

"I'm doing this for you!"

"I'm not supposed to fall for someone like you."

"It's really hot."

"Our love will either save the world or doom it."

"Is that a pentagram?"

"Don't tempt me."

"You're not supposed to be here."

"You're adorable."

"Do you feel it? The pull between us?"

"Ugh, I hate this!"

"I'm not just your protector, I'm bound to you."

"I'm really cold."

"I warned you, being near me comes with a price."

"Hello? Is anyone there?"

"You're the only light in my dark world."

"I gave up my soul for you."

"I've always wanted to summon a demon."

"You deserve to know."

"I've heard your voice in my dreams."

"The moon has whispered your name to me."

"Oh... oh!"

"I can give you anything you desire, but there is a price."

"Who are you?"

Setting/AU:

Bookstore

Bonfire celebration

Sacrificial ceremony

Cursed/Enchanted forest

Café

Academia

Soulmate

Abandoned cottage

Moonlit grove

Demon

Priest/Priestess

Monster

Omegaverse

Ritual

Warlock/Witch

Tropes:

Friends to lovers

Enemies to lovers

Forced proximity

Fake relationship

Secret relationship

Second-chance

Marriage of convenience

Arranged marriage

Fated mates

Only one bed

Amnesia

Professor/Student

Idiots in love

Fuck or die

Haaaave fuuuuuun~

#catescreationcelebration #veltana writes

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atamascolily · 2 days ago

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Countdown to Homulilly

Like Walpurgisnacht before her, Homulilly's formal entrance to the narrative is heralded with a the whirring of a projector and dramatic countdown using film leaders (though technically speaking, she's been there from the very beginning as both Homura and the entire false Mitakihara). I've already talked about how Homulilly's countdown signs evoke Walpurgisnacht's, so I won't go into too much here except to say that the Rebellion Production Note explicitly confirms as much; instead, I'll focus on what else is going on in this sequence as the rest of the Holy Quintet braces themselves for impact.

Rebellion thrives on surrealism and dream-logic, and it's unclear how much is meant to be taken literally here. The stylized format makes it feel like we are watching actors on a stage as they prepare for a big scene, and I don't think that's a coincidence.

Regardless, note that of the girls are already transformed and wearing their magical girl costumes, presumably because the city going up in flames as the biggest Nightmare of them all gets going and they are the only ones who can deal with it, even if only Sayaka and Nagisa/Bebe have the mental framework for what is actually happening.

First up is Madoka, hiding behind a wall of ticking clocks. Unlike the clocks chiming midnight that marked Homura's revelation of her witchhood, most of these clocks are set for 4 am--which, along with midnight, is known as "the witching hour". (There's also one clock set for 3 and another a little after 5, and I'm not sure why--"the time is out of joint, O cursed spite / that ever I was born to set it right", perhaps?)

Also, the gap between midnight and 4 am suggests that Kyubey's explanatory monologue and argument with Homura was four hours long in-universe, which is just too funny for words. Alternately, the more depressing theory is that Homura got "stuck" in her own despair before she emerged in her witch form. But like everything else in Homura's labyrinth, time is malleable, so I wouldn't think too hard about it--everything happens at the most dramatic moment possible, regardless of logic or logistics.

(Still, it's kind of insane that starting with the sunset bus ride to Kazaimino about thirty minutes in, everything after that takes place in a single night, at least until Homura wakes up and resets everything. Not to mention that this all goes down approximately one month after Homura's first day of school, as if Homura can't escape her loops even in her dreams. The chronology of Rebellion is both entirely deliberate and fucking wild.)

Behind Madoka on the shelf are two teacups that previously appeared on the street as Homura walks to Mami's apartment. I confess I don't really know what's going on with these teacups--tea is usually associated with Mami but her cups are in a different style, and I've only been able to find the cups in the drawing with the clocks in the Production Note. So clearly they mean something to Inu Curry, but what I'm not sure.

Unlike the earlier film leaders, which were floating in a nebulous meta state, the rest of Homulilly's countdown signs are projected onto the landscape. This makes perfect sense when you remember that the entire false Mitakihara is Homulilly's labyrinth, so there is no separation between them. Here it's reflected on the floor of the alleyway where Homura confronted Sayaka... and sure enough, a second later we see Sayaka in silhouette, working "behind the scenes" to ensure that their plan to rescue Homura comes to fruition.

Sayaka is frequently associated with "black and white" during her transformation sequence and elsewhere during the later battle sequence, some of which is deliberately borrowing from the witch Elsa Maria from the original series who was Sayaka's foil and some of which is just because it makes some nifty artistic shots.

#3 is the bridge over the highway where Sayaka and Kyouko fought in the original series, with a glow-up even beyond what it got in the Beginnings recap film (below).

I don't know why this bridge is associated with Mami here, and I don't think it was featured in any of the establishing landscape shots earlier. It's also much better illuminated that in the original series, with a new design of lamppost I haven't seen before.

Number 2 is also on the bridge, this time next to Bebe, and we get a nice close-up of the intricate tilework that was added in for Beginnings. Also I love that Bebe's jacket has Charlotte's face on it.

Mami stands up, ready to face the witch, because that's what magical girls do, even if she doesn't realize it because her memories have been wiped. Instead, she bravely faces the unknown, and I think that's beautiful.

(Note that the fence/railing that was visible in the previous shot disappeared because reality continues to mess with us. Or, alternately, you could interpret this as the "guardrails being off", i.e., the normal rules no longer applying.)

Cut to Kyouko, hunched in her chair in front of a red curtain. The camera pans out to reveal she's at the cafe again, except that the braided innocent Homura from earlier is missing the upper portion of her head.

Abruptly and without any warning, the table is gone, allowing Kyouko to reach out to Homura as the curtain rises. Note that her posture means she is unable to look Homura in the face even if Homura had one in the first place.

Furthermore, while the curtain was closed, the background set has changed, and Homulilly is formally introduced to the narrative.

Why is Kyouko so depressed here? Well, it's not just because she cares about Homura (although there's no question that she does). The next time we see her, she's more or less in the same position, isolated away from the others. Because of the way reality works in ths movie, it's likely she was always like that, and what we saw before was just a symbolic rendering; the same action viewed in two different ways (although other readings are certainly possible).

Homura's awakening as a witch isn't simply horrific for its own sake; it means the end of Kyouko's happy dream life, and she's not happy about it. As she tells Sayaka, "I had a horrible dream about you last night. You were... dead. But it wasn't a dream, it was real, wasn't it? This, right here, us fighting side by side, is the dream, ain't it?"

Every scene in Rebellion has its counterpart somewhere, and this one echoes what Homura says to Madoka in the second flower field scene, "I had a dream and it scared me. ...In my dream, you went someplace far away and it was so far, I wasn't going to be able to see you again and everyone forgot about you."

Homura and Kyouko are kindred souls in more ways than one, but especially in that they can only meet the person they love in this dream. This is why Kyouko doesn't join the fight until Sayaka is swallowed up by one of Homura's familiars, and why she's not very active in working against Homulilly. On some level, Kyouko would be happier if Homura succeeded! And when Kyouko does fight, it's because it means she can be with Sayaka one last time before the dream ends, and there's something so bittersweet about that.

Anyway, while that particular topic is worth a whole essay in itself, I think it's fascinating that each of these five characters has a very different reaction to Homulilly's emergence, and how that's reflected in both their surroundings and the way they carry themselves.

#puella magi madoka magica #madoka rebellion #pmmm analysis

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vodika-vibes · 21 hours ago

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Hi!! If requests are open could I please request something soft and fluffy with Tech and maybe he is reading to his s/o or just telling them facts or something cozy? 💗 or anything you want really! Ty!!

Tell Me A Story

Summary: When Tech forgets another date, you decide to change the way you do dates.

Pairing: TBB Tech x GN! Reader

Word Count: 853

Warnings: None

A/N: Hihi! My requests are always open because I'm like a request-hoarding dragon! Anyway, I really liked this request, but it might not be the greatest because I definitely typed it before I had any coffee. Also, tumblr isn't allowing me to tag certain people, I'm not sure why but it might be a setting on your part. Finally, my stories are going to be short this week, because my husband is on vacation and I like spending time with him.

Click HERE to be added to my taglist

“You forgot,” You press your fingers against your temple, and smother a sigh. This is the fifth date that Tech has forgotten about. Not in a row, lucky for him, but in total. “You promised you were going to set a reminder, Tech. In fact, I watched you set a reminder.”

Your boyfriend of almost six months has the grace to look sheepish.

“I did set a reminder,” He promises, “But then I got distracted and just dismissed the alarm without reading it.”

This time, when you sigh, you don’t bother smothering it. Tech cringes at the sound, and for a moment, you’re glad for it. At least he knows that he karked up.

“It’s fine, Tech.” You finally say.

“No. No it is not.” He counters, “You should be more important to me than my work.”

“Don’t say it like that. It sounds like I’m not.”

“No. You are. You are the most important.” He pushes his hand through his curls, “I kept thinking that if I finished that project, then I could spend the whole night with you. But—” He trails off, “I would understand if you were angry.”

“I’m not angry, Tech.”

“You should be angry.”

“I’m not in the habit of kicking people when they’re down, love.” You take a step towards him, and smoothly slide you arms around his waist, “It was an accident. It happens.”

“It happens too much.” He slides his arms around your waist as well, “Crosshair warned me that, if I am not careful, you will leave me.”

“Crosshair is a dumbass and doesn’t speak for me.”

He scans your face, and you watch as some of the anxious tension drains from his features, “I would like to have that date, if we can?”

“Everything’s closed, Tech. Well, save for the bars and clubs. It’s nearly midnight.” You watch as the anxious tension returns to his features, and a slightly amused huff slips from you.

“We could go to the bar?” He offers.

“You hate the bar, and the club.” You remind him, as you reach up and press your hand against his cheek so you’re able to smooth your thumb across his cheekbone.

“I do not hate them—” He lies, poorly, and then he averts his gaze at your disbelieving look, “I just prefer not to visit them.”

You laugh softly, “I’m not going to drag you to a bar or a club, Tech. Even if it’s the only thing open. Besides, if we go to the club, people might assume I’m working, and I hate that.”

“Well,” Slowly Tech drops his forehead against yours, “You are a stunning dancer, I would not blame them.”

“Charmer,”

He grins at you, though it fades quickly, “I do want to spend time with you, to make up for our date.”

“I know,” You allow your gaze to wander away from his face for a moment, trying to find something in the room that the both of you can enjoy together, and then your gaze lands on his datapad. “Oh, I have an idea!”

“You do?”

Carefully, you wiggle out of his grip, pulling a disgruntled noise from him, and you hurry over to his datapad. You power it on as you scoop it up from the table, and then you press it into his hands, “Read to me.”

“...what?”

“You still have work you need to do, right? But you want to spend time with me. So. Read to me.”

“And, you will be happy with that?”

“Uh-huh.”

“...alright.”

For a moment, you think Tech is going to sit in his chair and read to you, as though you’re in kindergarten again, but he surprises you by heading to his bed and stretching out across it.

Happily, you drop on his bed and rest your head on his chest, shifting and squirming until you can hear his heartbeat, strong and steady, in your ear before you wrap an arm around him and cast your gaze to his face.

He’s watching you, a smile on his lips and something soft and affectionate in his gaze, but he doesn’t say anything. Instead, he wraps an arm over your shoulder and tugs you closer, before he opens his datapad to one of the many books on it.

His voice is quiet and smooth as he reads to you from the dry technical book, and you know it’s only a matter of time before you fall asleep on him. But you don’t think he’ll mind, based on the way he’s holding you.

It might not be the date you planned, it’ll definitely get you teased by your friends about being so stuck on this guy that you’re happy to have him reading to you, but right here, right now, you’re happy.

Tech makes you happy. Being with Tech makes you happy, even if you’re just listening to him talk about things you have no knowledge about.

And maybe it’s too soon to use the “L” word, but you’ve always known your heart. But for now, you’ll hold your tongue, until you’re sure that Tech is ready.

It’s fine. You can wait forever.

@heidnspeak

@justiceandwar98

@etod

@kiss-anon

@lonewolflupe

@silly-starfish

@msmeredithrose

@cdblake1565

@badbatch-bitch

@continous-mistakes

@falconfeather23435

@tiredbi-peach

@kimiheartblade

@clones-cyare

@cc--2224

@0revna0

@mira-loves-star-wars

@trixie2023

@rebell-ious

@padawancat97

@sweater-sloot

@bekahcurlygirl

@bb8-99

@maniacalbooper

@wax-birds

@adriennelenoir

@omegaprime18

@bad4amficideas

@dukeoftheblackstar

@yoitsjay

@liz-stat

@arctech-fox

@lokigirlszendaya

@sailorflora

#star wars #tbb #tbb tech x reader #tech x reader #star wars fanfiction #x reader fanfiction #gn!reader fic #answered asks

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gu6chan · 1 day ago

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work related question does anyone have any fun anime for likely 12-14 year olds that to their ulta-conservative conspiracy theory parents would have no objectionable content whatsoever that's not like . pokemon. i live in the most conservative area in michigan btw /hj

#gu6chan's musings #tl;dr so idk if i ever mentioned on this blog but i live in a very small town (less than 900 people in the TOWNSHIP which is like #...3? different towns? maybe 4)#i digress #and since i work in a public position its like #i've been trying to organise more community events this summer ESPECIALLY among the youth #and was like 'we can try appealing to hobbies; i think' and listed a couple suggestions like this and that #so i was talking to my higher ups about it and they were like 'OH! youre super into anime right'#and i was like 'uh... sure???' bc i hadn't seen ANYTHING in a hot second and am still stuck in 2008 so i dont know any new series #but they knew i was a bit of a nerd and weren't as acquainted being older so i can't blame them!! lol #anyways long story short there's been an anime club they've been trying to kickstart for like the last... 3 years?#for the local middleschool/highschool except they haven't been able to find any way to get the word accross #and i was like neato; cool; i'd love to help with that!! and told them i'd make a poster for it real quick (still haven't. work is tomorrow #so they gave me the login to crunchyroll (my first time using it) and were like 'go find some anime that kids might like!!! :)'#and i was like '...WOAH.' and told them it'd take a second bc this area is VERY conservative and there's a bit of cultural dissonance when #it comes to 'kid-appropriate' between japan and the US; particularly with nudity lmao #and a lot of even what's popular among kids (Chainsaw man; Jujutsu Kaisen i think?) wouldn't fly but ouaahahhgh #it still has to be entertaining to them and not feel like it's being 'dumbed down' i have a couple ideas like sailor moon; uhh....#cardcaptor sakura?#but those are mostly shoujo anime which is good!! But i'd also like to include some shounen-type stuff as well for balance ofc #and that's where the problem arises 😭 i'd also love to take a look at older anime since i'm still figuring out what the 'goal' of the club #is besides just having a place for kids to interact and make friends with each other like #do i want it to be based in looking at the history of anime as an art form and its evolution? should it be like a book club and more focuse #on discussing character arcs and writing? or maybe even linguistically based since I did mention wanting to help inspire kids to take up #different languages!! and i know a lot would love to learn japanese #but yeah a lot to figure out 😭 i might be cooked chat

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tankgotstuckinthecircusgate · 7 months ago

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i know that when carlo suddenly decided that he needs to marry guy made a whole list in his head n like had a deadlines n shit. like it was some kind of a task he needed to do

#whole fkin campaign. idk still not sure how it was but man was in his peacock era for sure #n it's like i need to find a wife i need to make it in 2 (or whatever) months etc etc #but its like a bg task n he didn't speak bout it w others. like he just said that he needs to marry #also idk if i mentioned this but i wrote lauretta/carlo first meet long ago n she was w her fiance #i just listened to “pretty music” again sorry. i like that uh governor or tf this character is #changes his behaviour from one woman to another so real. n that fkin “but im a lucky guy who gets to dance w u”#and “since u know what i need i'll even take your lead” <- fr like im sure lauretta screwed him for several times #just to see if he's really serious good old manipulations w men nothing new nothing superstitious #upd. he probably made a mind budget for this (i mean finding a wife)#n bout lauretta screwing carlo its like in this ukranian song Ти ж мене пiдманула ти ж мене пiдвела #but since he's a strategist he's patient (like i wanted to accent this quality sm i wrote #that carlo started thinkin bout taking moretti's place back in 1932)#anyway. “Challenge accepted” situation and idk fr for some reason when it's carlo eddie lauretta it's always bout playing #so lauretta started playing n he entered this play too. i don't even think he was exactly mad (maybe only for the 1st time)#at this point i have a clear image of how they met n their first dates (cringe word) n how he proposed #ie how it started how it ended. ending was fast i believe (deadline is approaching 🤯)#what was in between i don't exactly know but i wondered just now if he also screwed lauretta (i think yes)#bc i don't knooowwww frrr all this is so bout playing to me #but bout ending its like. boss fight (<- sex) game credits (<- marriage) ((speedrun))#also i was thinkin if he even ever met lauretta's parents (i always thought that no but idk)#can imagine lauretta calling carlo a good friend. i also hm ok #i started to write a comic like a month ago just bout falcone polycule n it starts w #carlo who says that he finally needs to get married n lauretta's mother askin (in a pushing way) why #her n her fiance still aren't married like girl tf. she jinxed it i guess #upd. carlo/lauretta is funny in my head bc right before marriage he did fell in love lauretta didn't but guy's profitable we'll take him👍#she did only after marriage i think bc it was the time when u can finally relief bc it's over #u don't need to think bout no yes no no yes yes will it work or won't etc #woman was able to fucking chill at last. she got the money sorry i mean the man #he's not runnin away let's finally look who the fuck is even this man. why he won't shut up bout astronomy can i get a divorce <- jk #but yeah “я тобi брехала” is so lauretta right after marriage to me (“i dont even know the color of ur hair”)

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always-a-slut-4-ghouls · 3 months ago

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I don’t get why people feel like the Duolingo owl is threatening, if I ever feel like he is I just get mad at him. I could fight an owl. I don’t know if I’d win, but I don’t think I’d lose (two things that can apparently coexist). I think I’d survive at least and that’s not really winning but also not losing.

You wanna be so threatening? Da bør du drepe meg!

#emma posts #I used google translate for help because they haven’t taught me the phrase ‘kill me’ yet #taught me the word for beer øle but not the more important words like ‘kill’#as far as I can tell everything else in that sentence checks out so I figured the translation was good enough #not sure if it’s in the right order or if you use better that way in Norwegian. but good enough for a tumblr flop post #Emma’s adventures in using Duolingo #I should honestly use that as a tag for it #I post enough venting about that app #until I find out if I’m dyslexic for sure and there’s a way to help that with other languages. I’m not going to pay for Babbel yet #Babbel has Icelandic lessons too I think and that is my final boss tbh #I’ve been going from easiest for English speakers to hardest as my plan #and it turns out that I forgot how much some of my issues affect learning new languages #last time I learned another language it was Spanish and I’m not fluent but I’ve had classes and been around it for so long #that i kinda forgot what it’s like to start from scratch #I didn’t start trying to learn Norwegian until I was 26 #or was it my 27th birthday? I could check my streak #I was like ‘psh. it will be harder with my disabilities. but I should be able to read. my top priority with this language’#and then I realized I had been somehow adapting to the other two languages since childhood and forgot how much I had to work around #I mean. I knew I was worse at language arts in school than I was in literature and writing. but still #I also already knew I was worse at making new sentences in other languages than I was figuring out ones that someone else made #but I thought that was just because I hadn’t used Spanish much for several years now #every time I try to re-learn Spanish it just ends up with me being able to figure out what someone said to me but not how to answer #if i brushed up on it again i could probably have a conversation with someone who understood English but better spoke Spanish #someone with the same problem as me but reversed language wise #please don’t take this as me saying I could currently have an entire conversation with someone speaking Spanish #I’m better than someone who never learned it and didn’t encounter it’s use a lot. but I really don’t think I could have a real conversation #not at the moment at least #I have been meaning to brush up on Spanish again too. there are at least real classes in my area for it and not just an app #the last time there were Norwegian classes around here my dad was in college and old people still spoke it #no one around here speaks it anymore

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vulpinesaint · 2 months ago

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Hi, I wanted to ask you how you make your quizzes. They’re beautiful and chilling, but more importantly they’re right. I’ve never had any answer tug on my heartstrings in a way that feels so personal like these

hi, my love! first of all, thank you. as to being right: i've talked about it elsewhere, but i'm really fond of the joke my friends made about quizzes being the equivalent of tarot for me. i think it's apt, both in the way that i manage to pull at some specific emotional strings and in the way that the person who gets the results gives those words meaning for themself :) if you want to live in a delightful fantasy world with me you can believe that i am a little bit psychic... i have loved doing this kind of thing forever though. in middle school i used to make little fortune tellers that would be like. different desserts as the final options. and i was always right with those too haha

to be really honest, though, i don't think there's a huge trick to it! i'm only writing about nine possible results for people to end up with, so i keep them as kind of general archetypes. are they a little specific and personal! um! yes! but you know what i mean. when an answer pulls from an idea of giving too much of yourself or a fear of never being loved or never being seen, those are very personal, but they're personal to different people in different ways. hence why it's so important that the reader gives the words a meaning that is personal to them :) plus the more specific you are the more people will pop up to tell you that their result was NOT meaningful to them. which. hey man. there are only nine results and also i am writing a personality quiz on the internet i am not going to rip someone's soul out every time <3 only most of the time <3

once you've got the results though it's just. assigning them to answers. i don't write questions with anything specific in mind rlly and results get assigned to answers based on vibes <3 in my head i am looking at the possible answers for a question and going "okay... the type of person who would end up with [ insert result here ]... which answer feels like one they would choose..." and sometimes it's a matter of optimistic vs. pessimistic answers and sometimes it's a matter of okay well. i think this is more of a lilac answer than a sunflower haha (which... again... if you want to live in my beautiful world... play in the space with me... i like to believe that i am following a little bit of an innate sense there... but it could all just come down to pattern recognition in the end <3). i really wish i had something more helpful to say but i really think it is writing about a specific yet widely-applicable issue and then following the vibes. none of this stops me from getting clocked over the head with my own quizzes either. took the last one going "haha i don't even know what answer i would get! maybe the chalice?" and then i got the statue and i had to sit and stare at my screen for a while. local man gets called out for being a perfectionist to the point of detracting from the joy of the art itself by one of the various projects where he has detracted from the joy of the art itself by insisting that it's not good enough it's not precise enough it's not exact enough. anyway. time to go back to being really incredibly normal about my poetry grad school apps

#so sorry to my girlfriend. thank you for letting me scream in agony and then sit on your bed while i feverishly edit my poems #surely if i find the right word i will be able to make this work into the way it exists in platonic perfection in my head...#anyway. hope this was what you were looking for anon <3 #if i accidentally did not answer your question or just made new ones for you. askbox is open haha #long as hell answer. jesus christ bracken.#one day i will learn how to answer a question.... one day.................#ask #workshop quiz

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devils-yui · 1 month ago

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Reposting this from a friend bc I think it is VERY important to know of this, and for immigrants, and other possible victims of the ICE Raids happening right now

Here’s to also a very huge edit, from the list of very helpful people who have been reblogging and providing more info.

I’m not as well informed but I will be relaying the information and tagging each person who added onto this post:

@onthedriftinthetardis -

The phone number in the first photo is ONLY for Orange County, California!

Look up your local ACLU affiliate here

@6feetunderwater -

It always makes me nervous to see a reporting phone number passed around without any links to verify it, so the number in the first pic can be found on the site for the Orange County Rapid Response Network, which is "an interconnected system of non-profit and grassroots organizations, civil rights attorneys, law school clinics, and individuals working together to respond to dehumanizing immigration enforcement activities and policies in Orange County"

@geekerypeekery -

The second warrant is not fake, but is an administrative rather than judicial warrant, and has no constitutional authority to bypass Fourth Amendment protections - in other words, it does not entitle the bearer to enter and search your home. It simply authorizes agents of the issuing department to contact you. Always ask to see the warrant before opening your door!

In addition to the ACLU links, try contacting the National Immigration Law Center https://www.nilc.org/wp-content/uploads/2020/09/Warrants-Subpoenas-Facts.pdf

@american-anger -

The phone number listed here is specific to Orange County in California, but you can look up other California counties here:

CALIFORNIA RAPID RESPONSE NETWORKS

@beaniebaneenie -

Unpleasant reminder: within 100 miles of the border (which is home to 200 million people and virtually all major cities in the US), ICE does not need a warrant to enter your home, your car, to search anything, or even to arrest you.

You are not automatically safe just because they don't have a real warrant.

The best and safest thing you can do is learn to have escape routes- quick ways to get out of the house or area you're in if you find out ICE or CBP are around. Those of us who do have documentation? Time for us to step the fuck up.

Film any interaction. Every interaction. If you're able, step into the conversation and be a Karen/Kyle- weaponize your privilege for Good. If you get asked about people? Use positive but vague statements so you a) cannot be caught in a lie, and b) do not give any information away.

"I don't know them that well, but I don't tend to socialize much. They seem great to me."

"I can't remember the last time I saw them."

"Maybe they speak another language, I can't remember details. But I picked up Duolingo during the pandemic and tons of other people did too."

"I'm not sure."

"I'm sorry, I can't help you."

Even if you're somewhere the 100-mile Exception doesn't apply and a warrant is in fact needed? I don't expect ICE and CBP to play by the rules for long, if at all. I fully expect this to get ugly, and fast.

Cheeto has already declared an emergency of national security at the border, and is mobilizing the military to have jurisdiction over a huge swath of the country. It's essentially tantamount to martial law. And it's only been four days.

Gear up for a long, hard fight. This is gonna be a marathon, not a sprint.

— I am leaving all of this as an edit because on the off chance someone does find the posts that have these people specifically reblogging, I don’t want it to be too late. So I’m comprising it all here

Here are a few other people’s reblogs I thought were important:

Thank you @onthedriftinthetardis @6feetunderwater @geekerypeekery @american-anger @beaniebaneenie @bunnychiffon @dubiouslynamed @trisockatops @witchy-disaster for contributing and helping me make this a more well-informed post. Thank you so much

#this is from another friend who’s in Cali rn #but reblogging this could be beneficial #support #boost!#trump #donald trump #politics #ice raids #immigration #immigrants #immigration enforcement #news #california #long post

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sappho-of-suburbia · 1 year ago

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eating a girl out for the first time? as someone with a couple of decades' experience (i started young, ok?), can i offer some advice?

take your time. your aim isn't to make her come as fast as possible, it's to make sure she enjoys every moment. slow down, revel in the process of finding out what she likes.

tell her how beautiful she is, how tempting her cunt looks, how intoxicating it smells, how sweet she tastes. she might be feeling vulnerable, especially if she's inexperienced too - it's your job to make her feel safe and adored.

enjoy the journey - i know you just want to feel your tongue on her clit NOW, but exploring her thighs, working your way slowly to her folds, trailing all the way up her cunt, drinking her juices, letting her feel your breath before she feels your touch...it'll be worth it. for both of you.

learn to read her body with all of your senses. she might be vocal but she might prefer to bite her lip or enjoy being gagged. you don't need to hear her words to know what to do. you'll feel her muscles twitch and relax - learn what it means when she lifts her hips, squirms or sinks into you. she might taste and smell differently when she is close to coming for you. pay close attention to her clit - if you're lucky and you've done a particularly good job, you might see it twitch as she recovers from the perfect orgasm. enjoy it.

you can be vocal though. moan into her. use every sensation you can. light flicks to determined, long, slow licks. blow gently on her wetness. how does she react to your lip piercing? your teeth?

build and add to the experience until she's completely overwhelmed. play with her nipples. run your nails over her skin. lift her legs and spank her.

chances are, she'll get to the point where she really needs you to fuck her. slip your tongue all the way down and inside her. if you can't breathe, you're doing it right. that means you probably won't be able to keep it up for hours, so save this move for when she's right on the edge and you're ready to let her tip over.

if you're especially lucky and she's a squirter, you will get absolutely soaked. enjoy it. show her you're enjoying it. moan into her cunt; she'll come even harder.

if she needs to be fucked harder, slip your fingers inside her cunt and curl them up towards your tongue as it circles her clit. all of her most sensitive nerves will be between your tongue and your fingers. you'll be able to feel every tiny twitch inside her; it's the most beautiful place in the world to be.

when she can truly take no more, stay close to her as you drift away from her cunt. kiss your way up her tummy and her chest, let her taste herself on your lips as you hold her and let her ride out the aftershocks. trail your fingertips over her back. whisper in her ear. tell her everything you loved about eating her out.

#lesbian nsft #sapphic nsft #wlw nsft #dykeposting #wlw yearning #sapphic #lesbian smut #my posts #femme lesbian

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unintentionalseductress · 6 months ago

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Prescription For Pleasure

Warnings: MDNI, sex, masturbation, medical masturbation, use of vibrators, clit play, piv sex, use of latex gloves, oral (fem receiving), some praise, kinda slow burn A/n: I am not normal about this man in any way. Not really proofread. Please do not use my banners without permission.

You’re seated in Zayne’s office, trying not to squirm as he sets up your appointment. Although this was now the third time you were seeing him for this regular inspection, it didn’t alleviate your nerves the slightest. Each month, according to the Hunter’s Association regulations, every hunter needed to be seen by their primary care physician for 3 consecutive days for their health.

And although the association deemed it a necessity, it was an embarrassing requirement according to you. The Hunter’s Association had done a survey and discovered that many of their employees suffered from high levels of stress because they were isolated and lacked much-needed human contact. To combat this, they made it mandatory to get physical contact by a medical professional every month.

But when all the fancy jargon was pushed aside, all the hunters called it the same thing - medical masturbation. It had become wildly popular amongst both men and women hunters, eagerly marking the days on their calendar for when they could come in. When you heard about the rule, you wished the earth would open up and swallow you whole. You had tried talking to Jenna to insist that you were indeed taking care of yourself in that aspect, thanks to your trusted vibrator, but she had shaken her head no.

“We need documentation. I’m subject to it, and so is everyone else in my order.” Defeated, you’d walked out of Jenna’s office before remembering another mortifying fact with a jolt. Your primary care physician was Zayne.

Your childhood friend, your trusted cardiologist, stoic and calm, who remained reserved during your general checkups, was going to be your medical masturbator. You had almost turned yourself into a ball on the floor, tweaked out at the insanity of it all. Although Zayne was your general physician, you had a separate gynecologist, and apart from asking if you’d had your annual PAP smear, Zayne had left that part of your anatomy unquestioned. It didn’t help that you were attracted to him, and sure, if he’d asked you out on a date, you would have been more than happy to let him inspect you all he wanted down there.

But this clinical setting, enforced by your organization was a little too much to bear. Wondering how to tackle this situation, you wander over to Tara who was humming as she made her medical bookings on her phone app. “Isn’t this exciting?” she squeals as she sees you. “God knows the dating pool is thin right now. This is just what I needed!”

Tara’s primary care physician was a woman, and you wondered if that was a pro or a con. On the one hand, dropping your panties for a woman doctor seemed less unnerving than for a man. But if you had a preference for men, would it work against your arousal? You shook your head at your ridiculous musings and focused on talking to Tara. “Are you really that excited about this?”

“You have no idea!” Tara taps her feet as she talks to you.

“And you’re ok about having a woman stimulate you?” You probe, trying to gauge Tara’s reaction. Tara giggles and lightly pats your shoulder.

“I don’t know but the idea is kind of hot. I mean, getting it on in a doctor’s office? Besides if I don’t like it, I can change the doctor the next time.”

Her words hit you like a ton of bricks. “You can change your doctor?”

“For this yes, the app gives you an option since it involves showing off a lot of intimate areas. You have to be able to trust your doctor right?”

You logged into the app, finding the little button to request a change in doctors, but for some reason, the page kept refreshing and crashing. With a sigh, you decide to get the worst of it over with and call Zayne, hoping he can make the change for you on his end. His voice is cool and professional when he answers your call.

“Yes?”

“So, you must have heard about…the new regulation?” you had put forth nervously.

“I am aware of it, yes.”

“Well, for obvious reasons, I would like a different doctor.”

Zayne smoothly says, “Of course. Patient comfort is always first. Do you have a doctor in mind?”

“Maybe my gynecologist? I tried doing it in the app but it keeps crashing.” There’s a moment of silence and you can hear Zayne’s fingers tapping away at his keyboard before a low hum leaves his end of the line.

“There appears to be a problem.”

“Problem?” you’d parrotted back.

“Yes. Because so many people are booking appointments at the same time, most of the available doctors are already taken. Including your gynecologist.”

It felt like watching a bird crashing into a window in slow motion, that brief moment of hope that it wouldn’t hit the glass shattering in an instant. “Oh.”

There’s a pause before Zayne delicately says, “I’m sorry but it looks like you will have to make those appointments with me for this month. 3 of them according to the regulation. Hopefully, you can make the change for next month.” His voice sounded slightly apologetic.

“Won’t it be weird given that we know each other personally?” The question had fallen from your lips before you could stop yourself.

“I promise not to treat you any differently than any of my other patients who are coming in for this inspection. I understand this may be a little unexpected, but I assure you I did a term of gynecology during my internship.”

A tinge of mirth carried over in his voice and you can’t help but make a noise of embarrassment. “Zayne, please!” His laugh was dry but not unkind, and you can’t help but want to hide your face even though he couldn’t see you.

“Don’t worry too much. But I do advise you to make the appointments soon. My schedule is filling up rapidly.”

With those words, he’d disconnected the call and you were left wondering if an unknown god from another planet had cursed your existence.

And changing doctors had proven to be more difficult than you’d thought. The entire organization seemed to be having a single thought. They had made appointments in the app almost halfway into the year, essentially blocking you from being able to do anything about your situation. Now on your third month with Zayne, you watch as he checks his notes from your last session, feeling like you want to scamper from the room.

The last two sessions had been incredibly stimulating, your arousal heightened by the fact you were attracted to Zayne. You’d never considered having someone watch as you touched yourself but found that you’d enjoyed it, at least, when it was him. He had remained professional, but you’d avoided him these last two months, save for when you had to get your monthly cardiac profile. He reads his notes from his computer as he prepares for your session.

“Preferred device for stimulation still a vibrator, with a large, rounded, flexible head?” His eyes remain on his screen and you’re grateful for him giving you this smidgen of privacy.

“Yes.”

“Preference for the doggystyle position still?”

Your face burns. “Yes.”

“Still consenting for verbal stimulation?”

You nod your head.

“And still consenting for internal vaginal stimulation?” You make a noise of consent, squeezing your thighs together, your panties uncomfortably chafing against your already swollen pussy.

“All right, I have everything I need.” He logs off and removes his lab coat, rolling up the sleeves of his shirt, revealing his well-corded arms, and your mouth almost waters at the sight of them. Clearing your throat, you shyly reach into your bag and pull out the vibrator in question, which he takes from you and clamps into a stand, adjusting it over the examination table you’d be on. A bottle of lube awaits on the tray next to the table and you swallow as he finishes the setup.

“Whenever you’re ready,” he says in that deep voice, and feeling like your fingers are wrapped in thick woolen mittens, you reach behind you to untie the hospital gown you’re wearing, and it falls to the floor with a swoosh, your nipples pebbling under the sudden chill. A small set of sensors were taped to your chest and on the sides of your forehead, essential medical devices to ensure your orgasm was satisfactory. Unperturbed, Zayne gestures to the table and you make your way onto it, letting your feet settle in the stirrups as he settles on a stool between your legs, pulling on latex gloves before gently spreading your folds apart. You stare up at the ceiling as he does his initial checkup.

“Labia look healthy, no signs of trauma or abnormal discharge,” he murmurs, then runs a finger down the edge of the fold that separates your inner and outer lips, causing your core to clench involuntarily. You hold still, knowing very well he saw the action, holding your breath, letting out a little sigh as he lets go.

“Normal reaction to stimuli, already semi-aroused,” he says, trashing the gloves and making another note on his computer. He glances over at you, leaning back uncertainly on the table. “You may begin.”

You swallow, then carefully turn onto your hands and knees, crawling towards the head of the table, grabbing the bottle of lube and squeezing the viscous liquid onto the head of the vibrator, avoiding eye contact as your breasts sway under the motion, nipples painfully hard from anticipation. You could feel Zayne’s gaze but can’t bring yourself to look up. Even though this was the third time, it hadn’t gotten easier, stripping naked and pleasuring yourself in his office.

Once the rounded head of the vibrator is slick, you turn, the chill of the lube against your heated membranes causing more blood to flow into your already engorged nub, and run your moist slit across the surface to spread the liquid onto your slickened folds. Your hand fumbles for the little remote control and with a buzz, the vibrator turns on at the lowest setting. You click the button a few more times until it gets to the speed you liked, then fail to hold back a moan as the sensations pleasurably begin to take hold in your clit.

The first time you had done this, nervousness had made you set the vibrator on the highest possible setting hoping to get a quick orgasm and sprint out of the office. Unfortunately, the sensors relayed this information into Zayne’s medical record that your climax had been unsatisfactory, and you had endured being lectured by him with the medical gown loosely draped on your body, your rear open to the cold office air.

His tone wasn’t unkind but it hadn’t helped you feel better either. “It helps neither of us if you rush this. The whole purpose of this examination is to ensure you’re relaxing. I know it’s embarrassing but if you fail to have a proper orgasm, I’ll have to make you repeat the process until I get data that says otherwise.”

“The sensors are-”

“The only way to measure anything. Without involving another person anyway.”

His words had left you gobsmacked and your retort had died in your mouth. After that incident, you had learned. Even with the chagrin of having him watch you, you had learned to take your time and let the feelings build, leading to incredibly savory climaxes that made your body squirm from the aftershocks.

Your hips sway, setting up a rhythm to brush your sensitive slit onto the head, letting it vibrate from cunt to clit, the lube aiding the frictionless sliding and making your core drip. Quiet noises of pleasure leave your throat as help yourself, arching your back and changing the curvature of your ass to maximize the sensations, then when the perfect pattern emerges, you let out a keening sigh, and try to remain still, letting the vibrator work its magic.

Zayne, who has been quietly observing the computer this entire time, observing the spikes relayed from the sensors, asks, “Have you found your optimal pleasure form?”

“Yes,” you gasp, the timbre of his voice sending an arrow of lust into the deepest parts of your clenching core. You knew what was about to come next. The sound of Zayne’s desk chair moving, followed by the snap of latex gloves as he pulled a fresh pair onto those beautiful hands. He approaches the examination table and takes the bottle of lube you had set aside earlier, a wet squelching noise issuing from it as he squeezes it over his gloved hand, gathering the fluid on his index and middle fingers. He leans over to whisper in your ears; the verbal stimulation has begun.

The humiliating reveal that you had a heavy praise kink had come up during your initial session and despite your insistence that it wasn’t necessary, Zayne, the ever-diligent worker, had made a note in your profile, and he’d been fulfilling it each time. A tickle of hot breath near your ear, before he murmurs, “Are you enjoying yourself?”

The hum of the vibrator in the background coupled with his voice makes your breath catch in your throat. You nod, knowing you didn’t have it in you to form coherent words.

“That’s a good patient. Good patients listen to their doctors you know. And you’re doing a wonderful job.”

Your hips snap back to push your clit against the rubber pad, letting out a whimper of pleasure, the action pushing your ass up higher, revealing your pathetically drooling cunt, fluttering with the dissatisfaction of being unfilled.

“Are you ready?” He waits for your consent and you manage a husky, ‘mm hm’.

“Good girl. Take a breath.”

You inhale, trying to relax, then let out an uninhibited moan as Dr. Zayne inserts his middle finger into your needy cunt, the ring of muscles offering no resistance to the probing digit. He gently thrusts a few times, before curling the tip of his finger up into the delicate patch of nerves on your upper wall, the smooth come hither motion awakening a new level of pleasure in your body. Your fingers tighten on the edges of the table, sobbing, trying not to scream at the feelings that threatened to explode from you. He keeps up the gentle assault before asking, “Are you ready for another one?”

“Yes…” your voice comes out shakily, knowing you desired more than just his fingers, but that you would never get to experience it.

“Perfect. So well behaved, taking exactly what I give you.” Zayne’s sensual voice floods your ear before his index pushes into you, the thickness of both his fingers sending you into overdrive. Your walls clench welcomingly around him, inciting an exciting pull of liquid heat in your abdomen, the muscles tensing in anticipation for the exquisite release you knew was about to occur.

Feeling your inhibitions abandon you as you are stroked closer to orgasm your self-control slips and his name falls from your lips as he pushes over the edge.

“Zayne…” some partially functioning confine in the back of your brain registers what you had just involuntarily purred, but the spasms rocking your core, those gratifying waves of delight flooding your body made it easier to ignore it as your being is reduced to a pliant mess of pleasure. His fingers ease up as the fluttering in your pussy calms down, your clit pulsating weakly as the final vestiges of pleasure are wrung from your body.

With a wet noise, his fingers leave your moist hole, the glove coated with your juices and the lubricant. Awareness finally comes crashing around you as you realize what you had uttered in the throes of passion.

“I…I didn’t…I wasn’t in control…” You try to find a way to explain, to let him know you had very little choice in the matter of sobbing his name as you orgasmed, but everything feels flat, almost on the fine line between explaining and insulting.

“There’s no need.” Almost as if he’s read your mind, Zayne matter-of-factly redirects the conversation. “It’s not uncommon to blurt out things during climax. Some people swear, and others call out names. It was a very normal reaction considering I was the one in the room with you.”

He throws the gloves in the trash and goes to check the computer, to ensure the sensors had given him the information he needed before starting the second round of the appointment.

“Oh.” You say quietly as he sits at his desk, feeling dejected. Although relieved he wasn’t making a big deal out of it, you can’t help but feel disappointed with his reaction. Shouldn’t a man be flattered when a woman cried out his name when she came? Maybe he really was treating you strictly as a patient. And here you were, pussy exposed and spread after being probed by his dextrous fingers, mooning over him like a high school girl. Perhaps the limit of your relationship with him was in fact, doctor and patient, the childhood friends aspect fading.

So there was no romance here at all. You had a crush on him, and he was doing his job. Reality sucks. You sniff and suddenly feel cheap, and get out of the doggystyle position and try to find the hospital gown to preserve some of your modesty. Zayne glances over at your sudden movements.

“Are you cold? I can get you a blanket.”

“I’m fine.” You try to sound normal.

“Your records show that you usually rest about 10 minutes before you are ready for the next round. Do you feel like that will be the case this time too?”

You find the gown and drag it up to your chin, covering your body as you lay back on the table. “Yeah. Actually a little sooner today maybe. I have somewhere to be.”

“You can’t rush these things. Your body will cum when it wants to. A forced orgasm doesn’t promote anything beneficial.”

“Well can we find a way for this to happen quickly and in compliance with the sensors?” You’re trying not to let your frustration show, the pleasantness of your orgasm fading. “I don’t think I have the patience to do two more rounds.”

Zayne listens to you impassively, but those amber eyes flecked with green had an underlying intensity you couldn’t place. “You don’t have the patience to do two more rounds?” He gets up and comes over to you. “You want to just leave then?” He approaches the edge of the table and there’s tension in his jaw. Perplexed, you look at him, his reaction unexpected.

“No, I’m sorry, I know I can’t leave because of compliance and all that.”

“Compliance,” Zayne mutters under his breath before grasping your chin and forcing you to look at him, a gasp leaving your throat.

“You’re getting frustrated because you have to do this a few times every month while being supervised? Do you have any idea what I have to do before you come in for these sessions?” His voice is a growl and you clam up, shocked by this aggressive display of expression from him.

“Every month I have to remain professional as you come in, pleasure yourself, and then leave. I have to endure seeing your beautiful body bare in front of me and control all my impulses to touch you, to not overstep my limitations as your doctor. I pleasure myself remembering the noises you make and ensure I’m well spent before coming in to do your appointments. You sit there, acting like it’s hard for you, but do you have any idea what you do to me?”

One of his knees is on the table, and he’s looming over you making you feel like a tiny animal caught in his fury. “It’s torture, to watch you. You’re not like the other patients I see. You never have been. Because with you, I always feel like I’m on the verge of losing control. Do you know how difficult it is to not do things to you that aren’t specified on your medical record? To have my fingers so intimately inside you, feel every little drop of pleasure clenching around my fingers, knowing at the end I can’t have you to myself? To hear you call my name and know that you only see me as your doctor?”

Your face is a bright shade of red but you can’t look away from his face. His teeth are gritted, and when you dare to glance down, you see the noticeable bulge that has formed between his legs. He follows your glance and clicks his tongue, letting go of your chin.

“I know I crossed a boundary today. It’s all right. You can go. I’ll reschedule you with another doctor. I know you didn’t want me in the first place.”

Your mind is a blur as you quickly reach out to grab his hand, your heart hammering wildly in your chest. His admission was like a prayer answered, and you weren’t going to meek about this. His breath hitches as he feels you pulling at his hand and gives you a look of uncertainty. Your lips part but the words you want to say refuse to come out.

“Damn it,” he whispers ferally before his mouth captures yours in a rough kiss. It was wild and demanding, a contrast to the reserved, patient man he usually was. You’re swept up in the feeling of his mouth on yours, the taste of his tongue, and the softness of his lips. When you break apart, his hand cups your cheek, his eyes searching your face.

“This isn’t just because of the session right?” He asks keenly and you realize what he’s asking you. He’d been aching for you before this whole stupid policy came into place. The same way you’d been longing for him.

“No, it’s not. I had a crush on you back when you became my doctor to check on my heart condition.” A sigh of relief leaves him before he tenderly presses his forehead to yours, and you’re caught up in the sweetness of the moment.

“I just had to be sure.”

Boldly, you raise your head, delighted when he meets you, pulled back into his kiss, your tongues sliding over each other, your fingers tangling into his hair, scratching the nape of his neck, pulling him closer to you.

You gasp as he breaks the kiss to drag his tongue down the column of your throat, pressing wet, open-mouthed kisses to the heated flesh, your blood humming in your veins as your eyes flutter closed. He pulls away the gown and pulls your perked nipple into his mouth, and you revel in the jolt of pleasure it brings you, each suckle felt in your clit which had already swollen up again in need. His fingers capture your other nipple, softly tweaking and pulling it and drawing little whines of desire from your throat.

Your hand finds the junction between his legs and cups the heavy bulge, drawing a groan from him, palming him through his slacks, feeling it grow and tent the fabric under your ministrations. A low guttural sound leaves him and he gets off the table, and you almost protest until you see him dragging the small wheeled stool from earlier towards the table. He settles down on it, looping his arms around the tops of your thighs and pulling you closer to the table's edge until your feet find the stirrups again.

“Stay open for me darling,” he instructs, his eyes glittering and you shiver as you feel his breath against your swollen folds. You squeak as he pushes your folds apart with his nose, inhaling your scent, his eyes growing dark with lust. “You smell delicious. I always wondered. Had to stop myself from sniffing my gloves after you climaxed. Not professional you know.”

The musky tang of your pussy fills his senses, and his tongue darts out and dips into your slit, finding the swollen bud and licking it with just the right pressure that makes your toes curl and stars pop into your vision.

Your hand rests on his head, tugging his beautiful dark locks, his name falling from your lips without barriers. Your hips rock against him, moaning, then let a sob as his lips suction around your clit. His fingers, free from the gloves at last, probe your entrance, scissoring inside to prepare you for what was to come before they curl up into that gummy patch that he knew too well.

The sensations flood you, and the sheer knowledge of knowing you had Zayne touching you this way, unbound by the usual rules was sending you into a frenzy. Incoherent noises leave your mouth, crying out hotly as he teases the orgasm from you, your body shivering from the intensity.

He wipes his mouth on the back of his hand and takes in your appearance, so soft and satisfied on his table, a dreamy look in your eyes.

“Are you prepared for the after?” he asks, you nod, more than eager to experience him. A sly smile crosses his face before he reaches over into the little chest of drawers by the table and pulls out a condom.

“Hospitals have free condoms. It would be impractical to not use one when it’s on hand.” He explains seeing your questioning look and stands to undo his pants. You watch curiously as his cock is finally freed, eyes widening as it faces you, so impressive and veiny, standing proudly with a slight curve in its length. His pubes were neatly trimmed at the base, ebony curls visible behind the shaft. As he starts to roll on the condom, you feel your whole body heating up in anticipation.

He leans down to kiss you before taking your feet and resting them on his shoulders, his cock at the perfect angle to enter you. As he sinks into your welcoming heat, you let out a sigh of longing, feeling the delicious stretch of muscle as he pushes up inside you, gasping as you feel his full length sheathe itself. As he bottoms out, his eyes close in bliss, hardly daring to believe that after all this time, he is finally getting to fulfill this private dream.

Each stroke has him brushing against your gspot and kissing your cervix as he paces himself, feeling the primal urge to take you roughly and selfishly calling at his self-control. A growl leaves his throat as you whimper, straining towards him as the both of you struggle to keep a grip on reality. He feels the seductive way your walls clench around him, hears the soft noises you make, sees your face contort in pleasure with every roll of his hips.

“Oh you feel so good,” he pants hotly, glasses askew, almost at the tip of his nose as he thrusts. “Clenching me so needily. Gonna milk me dry.”

Your response is a shuddering whimper, your back arching greedily to feel all of him, creating the perfect curvature to brush your clit against the base of his erection with each push of his hips. He feels the little bud on his heated skin, your combined fluids dripping onto his shaft, slickening the bundle of nerves with each stroke.

“Be a good girl and cum on my cock the way you do on my fingers.” Zayne’s voice is husky as he tries to hold on, damned if he came before you. “I know you want to. I can feel the way your walls are spasming. They always do this pattern before you orgasm.”

The fact that he had memorized this knowledge of you was too much and you let go, your voice filling the room as you climax. Zayne’s hips stutter as he feels you around his length, pussy fluttering so him. His pace quickens, the sound of slapping skin becoming more and more urgent, his balls hitting your ass each time as he chases his orgasm.

A shiver passes through his body as it happens and he buries himself in your warmth. You hum in satisfaction as you feel his cock twitch and pulse inside you as he spills his load. He pants, sweat on his forehead as he bends down to kiss you again, carefully lowering your legs which burn from the stretch as they settle on the stirrups.

Threading your fingers through his hair, you brush your noses together, smiling shyly at him as he smirks, his eyes closing as he catches his breath.

“Can I see you outside of my office sometime?” he asks and you laugh at the invitation.

“Are you asking me out on a date after having sex just once?” you tease as he grips the base of the condom and slides out, your pussy feeling the loss keenly.

“I have been wanting to for a while. I was just wondering if I was misreading the signals. But I think I have a solid answer now.” He helps you sit up and cradles your body against his, idly stroking your skin, before gently removing the sensors off your body.

“Let’s get dressed,” he murmurs, pressing a kiss to your forehead after a moment of cozy silence, and the both of you hunt down your clothes. As he fixes his tie, Zayne passes by his computer and lets out an amused huff.

“Something funny?” you ask as you button your blouse.

“The sensors definitely gave enough information to make anyone’s head spin.” You walk over and snort as you see the window, full of sharp spikes.

“Well, at least I am guaranteed you had a good time.” Zayne’s eyes sparkle mischievously as he pulls you in for another kiss.

“I’m not changing my doctor,” you reassure him as you pull away. There’s amusement in his gaze when he replies.

“Oh, definitely not. I think if the Hunter’s Association ever sees this record, they’ll heavily advise you to remain with the same healthcare professional.”

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